Read Online I'll Walk Alone by Mary Higgins Clark - Free Book Online
Authors: Mary Higgins Clark
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Ted thought. I wish I could tell her to go to hell.
“You’re not hooking up with your ex, are you?” she demanded.
“My ex-wife is the last woman I want to see right now. You ought to know by now that I’m crazy about you.” Taking a chance, Ted deliberately let a note of irritation creep into his expression and tone of voice. He could afford to do that only occasionally but he knew, when he did, it sent the message to her that it would be insane to imagine he could look at another woman.
Melissa shrugged and turned to the others at the table. “Teddy’s chickening out,” she laughed. “Everyone who’s going with me to the Club, let’s split.”
They all got up.
“You have your car?” Ted asked.
“No. I walked. For God sake, of course I have my car.” She tapped him on the cheek, a playful slap for the benefit of the onlookers.
Ted signaled to the waiter to put the bill on his house account as usual and the group left the café together. Melissa held his hand and stopped to smile for the paparazzi. Ted walked her to her limo, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her a long, deep kiss. A little more fodder for the gossip mills, he thought. That should keep her happy.
Her former bandmates piled into the limo with her. As his own car was brought up to the curb, a reporter stepped forward, holding something in his hand. “Mr. Carpenter, have you seen the photos the English tourist took that day your son was kidnapped?”
“Yes, I have.”
The reporter held up an enlarged version of them. “Would you care to comment?”
Ted stared at them, then taking them, he moved closer to the brightly lit window as if to get a better look. Then he said, “As I said before, I believe these pictures will turn out to be a cruel hoax.”
“Isn’t that your ex-wife, Zan Moreland, picking up your child from the stroller?” the reporter demanded.
Ted was aware of the cameras surrounding him now. He shook his head. Larry Post was holding open the door of his car. He rushed to get into it.
When he got home, too shocked to feel anything, he undressed and took a sleeping pill. His night filled with tortured dreams, he awoke aching and nauseous, feeling as though the fictitious flu bug had become a reality. Or was it those damn gin martinis? he asked himself.
At nine o’clock the next morning, Ted called his office and spoke to Rita. Cutting off her shocked reaction to the photos, he told her to call Detective Collins, who had been in charge of the investigation the day Matthew disappeared, and make an appointment for him to see Collins tomorrow. “I’m going to stay home at least until mid afternoon,” he told Rita. “I may have a fever, but I’ve got to get in by then. I need to look at the proofs of that photo shoot that Melissa did for Celeb Magazine before I can okay them. Tell anyone in the media who calls that I will have no statement until the police have investigated the authenticity of those pictures.”
At three o’clock, ghastly pale, he finally arrived at the office. Without asking, Rita made a cup of tea for him. “You should have stayed home, Ted,” she said matter-of-factly. “I promise I’m not going to say another word about it, but there is one fact that you should keep in mind. Zan adored Matthew. She would never hurt him.”
“Notice you use the word ‘adored,’” Ted snapped. “That’s past tense in my book. Now where are the Celeb proofs of Melissa?”
“They’re gorgeous,” Rita said reassuringly, as she took them from an envelope she had laid on his desk.
Ted stared at them. “To you they’re gorgeous. To me they’re gorgeous. But I can tell you right now that Melissa is going to hate them. There are shadows under her eyes, and her mouth looks too thin. And don’t forget I was the one who told her she ought to accept posing for that cover story. Good God, can it get any worse?”
Rita looked at her boss of fifteen years with compassion. Ted Carpenter was
“You’re not hooking up with your ex, are you?” she demanded.
“My ex-wife is the last woman I want to see right now. You ought to know by now that I’m crazy about you.” Taking a chance, Ted deliberately let a note of irritation creep into his expression and tone of voice. He could afford to do that only occasionally but he knew, when he did, it sent the message to her that it would be insane to imagine he could look at another woman.
Melissa shrugged and turned to the others at the table. “Teddy’s chickening out,” she laughed. “Everyone who’s going with me to the Club, let’s split.”
They all got up.
“You have your car?” Ted asked.
“No. I walked. For God sake, of course I have my car.” She tapped him on the cheek, a playful slap for the benefit of the onlookers.
Ted signaled to the waiter to put the bill on his house account as usual and the group left the café together. Melissa held his hand and stopped to smile for the paparazzi. Ted walked her to her limo, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her a long, deep kiss. A little more fodder for the gossip mills, he thought. That should keep her happy.
Her former bandmates piled into the limo with her. As his own car was brought up to the curb, a reporter stepped forward, holding something in his hand. “Mr. Carpenter, have you seen the photos the English tourist took that day your son was kidnapped?”
“Yes, I have.”
The reporter held up an enlarged version of them. “Would you care to comment?”
Ted stared at them, then taking them, he moved closer to the brightly lit window as if to get a better look. Then he said, “As I said before, I believe these pictures will turn out to be a cruel hoax.”
“Isn’t that your ex-wife, Zan Moreland, picking up your child from the stroller?” the reporter demanded.
Ted was aware of the cameras surrounding him now. He shook his head. Larry Post was holding open the door of his car. He rushed to get into it.
When he got home, too shocked to feel anything, he undressed and took a sleeping pill. His night filled with tortured dreams, he awoke aching and nauseous, feeling as though the fictitious flu bug had become a reality. Or was it those damn gin martinis? he asked himself.
At nine o’clock the next morning, Ted called his office and spoke to Rita. Cutting off her shocked reaction to the photos, he told her to call Detective Collins, who had been in charge of the investigation the day Matthew disappeared, and make an appointment for him to see Collins tomorrow. “I’m going to stay home at least until mid afternoon,” he told Rita. “I may have a fever, but I’ve got to get in by then. I need to look at the proofs of that photo shoot that Melissa did for Celeb Magazine before I can okay them. Tell anyone in the media who calls that I will have no statement until the police have investigated the authenticity of those pictures.”
At three o’clock, ghastly pale, he finally arrived at the office. Without asking, Rita made a cup of tea for him. “You should have stayed home, Ted,” she said matter-of-factly. “I promise I’m not going to say another word about it, but there is one fact that you should keep in mind. Zan adored Matthew. She would never hurt him.”
“Notice you use the word ‘adored,’” Ted snapped. “That’s past tense in my book. Now where are the Celeb proofs of Melissa?”
“They’re gorgeous,” Rita said reassuringly, as she took them from an envelope she had laid on his desk.
Ted stared at them. “To you they’re gorgeous. To me they’re gorgeous. But I can tell you right now that Melissa is going to hate them. There are shadows under her eyes, and her mouth looks too thin. And don’t forget I was the one who told her she ought to accept posing for that cover story. Good God, can it get any worse?”
Rita looked at her boss of fifteen years with compassion. Ted Carpenter was
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