Danielle Steel - Vanished

John went to see her after Malcolm had left, and they sat and talked quietly. “Were you surprised?” he asked her gently, referring to Brigitte.

Marielle felt like a balloon the air had been let out of. It had been another exhausting afternoon, and in many ways a sad one.

“Yes, I was. I suppose I'm incredibly stupid, but I've always liked her. She's a nice girl, and she's always been so sweet to Teddy.” She looked thoughtful as she spoke, thinking back to all the little gifts, the things she had made, the candy, the toys, the sweaters … somehow, Marielle felt as though she had been a complete fool. She wondered how long it had been going on. Probably since the beginning, she realized, and she looked back over the past six and a half years, and that made her feel even more foolish. How stupid she had been, and how deceitful they were.

“She probably tried to make friends with Teddy to impress your husband.”

“Maybe,” Marielle said sadly. “I suppose it doesn't really matter.” He had to have been going somewhere to address his needs, they hadn't slept with each other in years, and she knew that he was a very physical person. But she had just never thought of Brigitte. It had crossed her mind once, on a day when the young German girl was looking particularly pretty, and at first she had been a little jealous when they had started traveling together, but she had really never given it a thought after that. And now she knew that he went to her apartment every day after work, spent the night there frequently, and even paid for the apartment. He was more married to Brigitte than he was to her, or so it seemed to Marielle. She had no tie to him at all anymore. No allegiance, no fondness, no loyalty, no fidelity …not even Teddy.

John watched her quietly as she thought it out, and he thought of his own wife, and what might happen when the trial was over. He knew better than anyone that they couldn't go on like this forever. But despite the feelings they shared, he and Marielle had shied away from talking about the future. There was too much happening in their lives now to think of anything except the trial, and finding Teddy.

“I almost feel sorry for Malcolm,” she said later as she walked John to the front door. He hated leaving her at night, and he had come to cherish their hours together. “It must have been difficult for him to be exposed.” He had looked furious on the stand, and Brigitte had looked panicked.

“Not as difficult as it was for you yesterday.” How could she feel sympathy for him? She was an amazing girl. “He lied through most of it.” But they'd caught him in the end. What he hadn't admitted was that he had always known about Charles, and her time in the clinic. But the jury didn't know that. All they knew was that he was a cheat, and perhaps a liar. “He deserves what he got. He deserves worse for what he did to you. They didn't have to do that.”

“Well, they did. They don't have to worry that I'll be sympathetic to Charles and weaken the prosecution's case. My testimony is meaningless now.” She wished she didn't have to go to court at all. It was all so painful.

“Are you still sympathetic to him, Marielle?”

She wasn't sure. She hadn't been in months. “I don't know. I just don't know what I think … all the evidence is there, and yet I thought I knew him better than that, even after all these years. No matter what he said, I didn't believe him when he said those things in the park …and then Teddy was gone … I don't know what to think.” She couldn't bear thinking of it anymore …the empty bed that had still been warm when she touched it. It had been three months now since she'd seen him, three months since she'd held her little boy …the little boy they said she was too weak and unstable to take care of.

“If he were innocent … if we found Teddy again,” and he still hoped they would, but he doubted it now. It had been too long. It was beginning to seem too much like the Lindberghs. “Would you go back to Charles?” He had wanted to ask her that for days. He wanted to know, because in his heart of hearts, he knew she still loved him.

“I don't know,” she said honestly. “I don't think so. I couldn't. There's too much pain between us. Think of what we would feel when we looked at each other every morning. If he's innocent, and Teddy comes home again …Charles will never forgive me for this …” She looked up at him, and John was annoyed.

“Everything that goes wrong in the world is not your fault. You didn't make those threats in the park, he did. He's the damn fool who either did it, or put himself in a hell of a spot for shooting his mouth off. Last time I looked, all you did was go to the park with your boy. This is not your fault, for God's sake, just like Teddy's kidnapping isn't …and the other boy's drowning wasn't …stop believing all the shit these jerks give you.” She smiled at him. She loved him for believing in her, and protecting her, and caring about her, and trying to find Teddy. But she wondered what else they would have when this was over. Probably very little. They would be friends, but they had met at a time that, for her, would be forever painful. But he was worried about something else now, since listening to the last few days' testimony in court. He knew what Patterson had up his sleeve now. If they found the boy, he was beginning to suspect that Patterson was going to sue her for custody and divorce, and accuse her of being an unfit mother. That's what the mental instability was all about, and the testimony by governesses and maids. John Taylor already saw where Malcolm was leading, but he didn't want to scare her. And maybe it would never happen. Maybe they would never find Teddy.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered as he hurried down the front steps a little while later, wishing he could kiss her. And as Marielle went back to her room, she correctly assumed that Malcolm was with Brigitte.

He didn't bother to come home that night, or to call. The pretense was over. She wondered where they were staying now, to avoid the reporters who were hot on their trail for a story. She wondered too how often his calls to her had come from Brigitte's apartment. It was amazing how little she had known about her husband. She had thought him so respectable, so kind, so gentle with her, and instead he had been building a case against her for years, he had always known about the hospital and Charles, and he had cheated on her for years with Brigitte. It was not a pretty picture. She was still thinking about it when the phone rang as she lay in the dark at ten o'clock. She almost didn't answer it, thinking it would be him. But there was always the possibility it would be a call about Teddy. She knew the police still in the house would pick it up, but nevertheless she wanted to listen. She was startled to hear Bea Ritter asking the policeman to put the call through to Marielle and he wouldn't.

“It's all right, Jack. I have it. Hello?”

“Mrs. Patterson?”

“Yes.”

“This is Bea Ritter.” Even her voice sounded nervous and energetic. She was an excited little woman full of life and the pursuit of a great story. But Marielle had wanted to thank her anyway, for the surprisingly decent article about Marielle's performance in the courtroom. She thanked her, and the little redhead sounded embarrassed. “They really did a job on you. It made me sick to watch it.”

“At least I didn't get carried out of the court the way the others said I did.”

“They're a bunch of jerks. If it doesn't happen the way they want it, they make it up, I don't do that.” And then there was a pause. She had half expected not to get through to her, and now they were suddenly talking like old friends, but she was scared and this was important. “I'm sorry to call so late … I wasn't sure how to get through to you …Mrs. Patterson, can I meet you for a little while?”