Liv Constantine - The Last Time I Saw You

Gordon clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “I’m not sure how to bring this up, except to just tell you.” He took a dramatic pause as they all looked at him expectantly.

“What is it?” Harrison asked.

“I received a phone call from Lily.” Again he paused. “It was the day before she … ahem … anyway, she asked me to keep it confidential, but now that she’s gone … well, she wanted to come in and make changes to her will.”

“What?” both Harrison and Kate said at the same time.

Gordon nodded somberly. “I’m assuming, then, that you knew nothing about this?”

Kate looked at her father. His face had paled.

“No, nothing. Are you sure that’s what she wanted to meet with you about?”

“Quite sure. She specified that she wanted a notary available. I had to mention this to the police, of course. I wanted you to know.”

Harrison stood up, moving closer to where Gordon was sitting. “What exactly did my wife say?”

Color rose to Gordon’s cheeks. “I told you. That she wanted to change her will. The last thing she said before we hung up was, ‘I’d appreciate your keeping this between us.’”

Kate looked at her father again, trying to gauge his reaction. His expression was inscrutable.

“Is there anything else, or can we go?” Harrison asked, his voice tight.

“Just a few more things to sign,” Gordon answered.

After the papers were signed, the meeting ended, and Gordon came around from behind his desk, once again taking Kate’s hands in his.

“If there is anything, anything at all, I can do for you, please call me.” He let go of her hands and pulled her to him in a stiff hug. There had always been such awkwardness to Gordon, from the time they’d been children together.

As a child, he’d had few friends, and that continued throughout his teen years. Kate wasn’t sure that he’d ever had a girlfriend, certainly not when they were young. He had always been odd, eschewing jeans for checkered or printed golf pants along with starched shirts and bow ties when he wasn’t in his school uniform. Although she never felt completely comfortable around him, she also never failed to defend Gordon when others made fun of him, so while she had never thought of Gordon as one of her friends, because of their parents’ long-standing relationship, they’d been thrown together frequently growing up.

Once, at the Bartons’ annual New Year’s Day open house, when Gordon had just turned fourteen and Kate was almost thirteen, he’d cornered her.

The party was well under way when Gordon said, “This is boring. Come on. I’ll show you something interesting.”

“I don’t think so. Maybe another time.” As she edged away, he moved closer to her.

“Come on. You’ll like this. I promise.”

“I’ll like what?”

“My new art project. I’ve been working on it for months. Follow me.” He reached for her hand, but Kate clasped her hands together as he led the way out of the room.

She followed him to a wing of the large house where she’d never been before. After leading her down a long corridor, he stopped in front of a closed door and turned to her. “Mother gave this room to me for Christmas,” he said. “For my art projects.”

He pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. Kate ran her tongue across her upper lip and tasted salty perspiration. The door opened, and Gordon flipped the switch. Soft light filled the room, making the small space look warm and cozy. The walls were painted dark red and covered in large black-and-white photographs of old downtown row houses.

“Did you take these?” Kate asked, moving closer to one of the framed images.

“Yeah, a while ago. But I want to show you what I’m working on now.”

He pushed a button on the wall and then went to stand behind a metal desk where a computer and projector sat. Kate turned to look as a film screen rolled down.

“I’m going to dim the light,” he said, turning on the projector.

Black-and-white images of houses appeared on the screen as the film opened, and then the camera focused on one house alone, slowly moving in closer until she could see the occupants. A thin blond woman sat on a sofa watching TV while two young children sat on the floor playing some kind of game. The camera then withdrew, and another house came into focus. The camera again moved in for a closer look at two women sitting at a kitchen table, while another one stood at the sink washing dishes. The film went on moving from house to house, recording the activities of the occupants. When at last it finished, Gordon switched off the projector and turned the light on.

Kate was stunned.

“Well, how do you like it? I’ve been working on it for months. I’m calling it ‘Contemporary Mundanity,’” Gordon said. He’d been positively beaming.

“Gordon. You’re spying on people!”

“I’m not spying. It’s what anyone would see if they walked by and looked in.”

“No, it’s not. It’s like being a Peeping Tom.”

His face had fallen. “I thought you’d be the one person who would like it.”

“You’re a really good photographer, but I think you should find a different subject next time. Let’s go back.”

They left the room in silence. As crazy as it was, she’d felt sorry for him. He’d seemed genuinely excited about his project, and he wasn’t without talent—but he also seemed to have no idea how violating the project was, and that had bothered her. It still bothered her, but he’d never shown anything but discretion in their business dealings, and he’d never crossed a line with her after that, so she’d kept with the family tradition of having a Barton handle her money. She’d tried to put it out of her mind, and the only person she’d ever told about the incident was Blaire.

Simon put his hand on her back as they all exited Gordon’s office.

“We’re all through, Sylvia,” Kate said.

“Annabelle and Hilda are right down the hall. I’ll take you to them,” she said, and the three of them fell in behind her.

She opened the door, and when Kate stepped inside, her heart stopped. The room was empty. A box of crayons lay on the table, and a half-colored picture had fallen to the floor.

Kate’s heart started pounding, and she felt as if she might faint. “Where is she?” She could barely get the words out. “Where is my daughter?”

“I, I …,” Sylvia stuttered.

Kate felt the room begin to spin, and then she felt her father’s hand on her arm.

“Kate, honey, I’m sure they just went to the bathroom.”

Without a second thought, Kate ran from the room, down the hallway, and pushed open the door to the ladies’ room.

“Annabelle? Hilda?” she yelled, her voice rising hysterically. But there was no answer. A toilet flushed, the stall opened, and a young woman in a suit stepped out, looking confused.

Where were they? Running back out to the hall, she saw Gordon, who was now with the others.

“Kate—,” Gordon began, but before he could finish, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

“Mommy, look what Miss Hilda got me.”

Kate spun around and saw Annabelle standing in the elevator, grinning and holding an apple and a juice box.

Kate ran to her, stooped, and picked her up, burying her head in her daughter’s shoulder and shaking with relief.

“Mommy, my juice is spilling,” Annabelle scolded.

Kate brushed the curls back from her forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Daddy, look what I have,” Annabelle said, and Simon took her from Kate’s arms. She squealed with delight as he twirled her around.

Kate turned to Hilda. “You scared me to death. Why on earth did you leave like that?” Her tone was sharp.