"Why on earth did you fly in to see Dallas?"
"I had to talk to him," I admit. "I should have waited until tomorrow, though. He was occupied." I can't keep the sarcasm out of my voice, and her almost inaudible little hmmm shows that she understands. How can she not? She sees the tabloids and gossip shows just like everyone else, and I know she's as disappointed as I am in what he's become.
"Your brot
her has to deal with his issues in his own way," she says, which is exactly what I would expect a mom to say.
"He's acting like an ass," I reply, which is exactly what a sister would say.
"I guess being an ass is his way," she adds, and I remember all over again why I love my mom so much.
"I wish he'd get over it," I grumble.
"You miss him." Her voice is gentle. "You two used to be so close."
She's right of course, but after what happened earlier, I really don't want to go there. So I shift the conversation, because she has as much of a right to my news as Dallas. "I came to see him because--oh, god, Mom--I came because Bill has one of the guys who snatched us in custody. And he wants to trade immunity for the identity of the man who was behind it all."
Silence.
There is nothing but silence on the other end of the line.
"Mom? Mommy?"
I hear the sharp intake of breath, and I realize that she is trying to talk, and that she can't through the tears.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have dropped it like that. I didn't mean to--"
"No." Her voice is raspy. "No, baby, of course I want to know. Of course you can tell me. I was just--after so much time--"
"I know. I can't believe it."
"What did Dallas say?"
I think back to his reaction--his guilt that I'd been caught up in his kidnapping. My guilt that I couldn't save him. That I got out and he didn't. All of it. Every horrible bit of it. I don't know how to tell Mom any of that, though, and so I go with the simplest and truest answer. "I think he was a little shell-shocked. I get that. I am, too."
"And Bill will keep us informed?"
"Of course. He's going to call Daddy, too. He wants--well, he's going to want Dad to press charges."
"Oh."
I frown. I'd been hoping she'd say that Daddy would jump on the chance. But of course he won't. He kept the kidnapping secret back then, so I doubt he'll be keen on it going public now. "You'll talk to him, won't you? If they really do find whoever did that to us, I want to see him strung up by his balls." I wince. I may be an adult, but I'm usually not so vulgar when I talk to my mother.
"I'd like that, too," she says, completely unperturbed. "But so much publicity on you after all this time--it's going to bring back the stress and anxiety."
"Bring it back? It never went away."
"You're doing better, sweetheart, and you know it. You and Dallas both are."
I snort. "That's because he has a harem to help him cope."
I can practically hear my mother pressing her lips together to keep from commenting. After a second, she says, "I'm thinking about your career. About your books. If your kidnapping becomes public you're going to end up in the spotlight in a much less pleasant way. The media will be sympathetic--you and your brother were the victims--but they'll be relentless. Is that what you want?"
"Want? Of course not." I hate the tabloid attention that comes with my family name. Piling on more attention--and for so horrible a reason--sounds like a living nightmare. "But if that's what it takes to punish the person who did that to us, then I'll deal."
"Well, all right," she says softly, but she doesn't sound convinced. "I suppose we'll see what your father has to say."
I don't respond. Because honestly, I don't understand her reaction at all. I mean, objectively I understand why Daddy wanted to keep the kidnapping secret. Our lives were public enough without adding that kind of horrific spotlight. But we're adults now, and if we can catch the man who did this to us, then I want him punished. Even if that means stepping into that circle of light.