“And you said that something changed after that incident on the dock, when they tried to make you leave without the baby.”
“Yes.”
“He had a look on his face, like the Pratts may have crossed the line,” Abby said. “We want you to finish the story, fill in the gap between your first escape attempt and your final escape that brought you home.”
Cass looked at her hands again, concentration pulling across her face. “Do you think you’ll find him soon? Now that you have the sketch?”
Leo answered her. “The problem is that he has no incentive to come forward. He participated in kidnapping. And he already has a guilty conscience from the incident with that woman on the fishing boat in Alaska. Then there’s the loyalty to the Pratts, whatever might be left of it. It may come down to finding his family. Seeing if they know anything. Did he ever mention that? His own family?”
Cass shook her head. “No. He never did.”
“Okay. That’s fine,” Leo said. “Why don’t you tell us what you can about him.”
Cass nodded slowly, then began to speak about the boatman. “I thought a lot about loyalty.” Her voice was steady, as if she were explaining a term paper she’d written in school. “… I think it’s founded on one of three things. The first is debt. For example, if you saved my life, I may be loyal to you forever. The amount of loyalty and the time it lasts will depend on the debt that is owed.”
Leo leaned forward, confused and about to interrupt her. It was a strange way to begin her story about Rick, and how he went from turning her in to helping her leave. But Abby reached out and touched his hand, shaking her head. Stopping him. This was exactly what she wanted from Cass. The truth would come as much from the digressions as from the story itself.
“What’s the second one, Cass?” Abby asked her.
“The second is money. If you pay me to be loyal, then I will be loyal as long as I need the money.”
Leo nodded. “I can see that. Do you think it was money that made Rick so loyal?”
“Well, the third thing is about keeping secrets. If I know you will keep my secrets, then I will keep yours in return. This is the most pure form of loyalty, I think. But like most pure things, it is also the most vulnerable.”
“Because secrets can hurt you?” Abby offered.
Cass nodded, her gaze somewhere on the table in front of her clasped hands. “I did a lot of thinking about Rick after that first time I tried to leave. I thought about how he didn’t seem to care about anything. The fishing boat may have done bad things to his mind like the Pratts told me, but there was a reason he was on that boat to begin with. Why would someone choose to do that at eighteen?”
Abby drew a long breath and leaned back in her chair. She was buying time before answering the question.
“Sometimes people do things like that to escape emotional pain. Extreme things that cause them to focus their attention away from the cause of the pain.”
Cass glanced up then, an excited look on her face. “Yes! I think that’s it. I think he was already in pain. The thing is, the Pratts did pay him, but he could get work as a boatman anywhere. And from the way he dressed, I didn’t believe they were paying him more than other people might. So that left two things—debt and secrets. The Pratts helped him get off drugs. They paid for some rehab program and let him go to meetings every Wednesday night. If we ever needed something on a Wednesday afternoon or evening, we were out of luck. Lucy told us that every Tuesday because, as she said, ‘I don’t want to hear any complaining tomorrow if you don’t have ice cream or a new DVD.’
“In my mind, he had paid off this debt. The Pratts had gotten him off drugs, and they’d helped him with his conscience, but he had helped them with our kidnapping. He had taken my rowboat and put it back on the dock. And then he’d told them about my failed escape, and because of him, Emma and her baby were nearly drowned, and we were forced to stay—”
Cass stopped herself. Her face had turned red like she was about to scream or cry or pound the table with her fists. She was so different from other times when she’d told stories that should have been hard to tell. Even harder than this one. But she had been remarkably calm.
Abby touched her hand. “I understand what you’re saying. He repaid that debt.”
“So you think it was about secrets?” Leo asked.
Cass nodded.
“The secret he had about Alaska and how he didn’t help that woman?”
She nodded again. “As far as he knew, the Pratts never told a soul about what he had witnessed in Alaska, what he had let happen in front of his own eyes. But I knew, didn’t I? I know I’m still young. But it shocks me some of the things I know that other people don’t.”
She turned her eyes back to the spot on the table.
“Your secrets are never safe. Not ever. Unless you never tell them to another person. It was so obvious. Lucy felt worthless for not having a baby. Helping Rick was one of her shining moments and it made her feel like she was a good person even though she couldn’t have a child and had to steal Emma’s. But she hated herself so much that it wasn’t enough just to have it inside her, to know it herself. She needed us to know about this wonderful thing she’d done for Rick, and that need trumped any trust that Rick had placed in her.
“Do you ever feel conflicted by this?” she asked, her eyes now on Abby.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I know that we all need people. I mean, we need to trust people and we’re always seeking out love, aren’t we? But I can’tignore what’s in my head. Everyone I could ever trust, everyone you could ever trust, could betray you. It doesn’t matter who they are or whether they mean to do it. Your friends. Your husband. Your wife. Your siblings. Your child. Even your parents. Some people just do it and they don’t care. They don’t think twice about it. But others do it and they justify it in their heads so you can’t even blame them. They have their reasons. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
