61

At 4:15 on Friday afternoon, Zan called Kevin Wilson. I don’t know how to begin to thank you for taking responsibility for everything that was ordered for the apartments,” she said, her voice calm, “but I can’t let that happen. I’m about to be arrested. My lawyer thinks I’ll be given bail, but whether or not I am, I won’t be of much use to you as an interior designer.”

“You’re going to be arrested, Zan?” Kevin could not keep the shock out of his voice even though Louise had warned him that she was surprised the arrest had not already happened.

“Yes. I’m to be at the police precinct at five o’clock. The way it was explained to me is that I’ll be processed after that.”

Kevin could hear the effort Zan was making to keep her voice from breaking. “Zan, this doesn’t change the fact that—” he began.

She interrupted him. “Josh will call the suppliers and explain that everything must go back, and that I’ll try to work out some sort of settlement with them,” she told him.

“Zan, please don’t think that my decision to accept the deliveries was some random act of kindness. I like your designs and I don’t like Bartley Longe’s. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Before you came in, Josh told me that you and he worked on two jobs concurrently, and that while you were at one, he was at the other. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes. It is. Josh is truly gifted.”

“All right, then. On the business level, I am hiring Moreland Interiors to take over the decorating of my model apartments. Whether or not you receive bail, my decision is firm. And, of course, I need a separate bill for your usual fees over and above the actual cost of the furnishings.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Zan protested. “Kevin, you’ve got to be aware of the kind of publicity my case is generating and it is bound to get worse. Are you sure that you want people to know that a woman accused of kidnapping and maybe murdering her own child works for you?”

“Zan, I know how bad it looks, but I believe in your innocence, and that there is another explanation for everything that has happened to you.”

“There is, and please God, it will be found.” Zan attempted to laugh. “I want you to know that you have the distinction of being the first person to express any belief at all in my innocence.”

“I’m glad if I’m the first, but I’m sure I won’t be the last,” Kevin said firmly. “Zan, you’ve been on my mind constantly. How are you able to handle all this? When I saw you, you were so upset that I was heartsick for you.”

“How am I now?” Zan asked. “I’ve been questioning myself about that, and I think I have the answer. Years ago, when my parents were stationed in Greece, we flew to Israel and visited the Holy Land. Have you ever been there, Kevin?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve always wanted to go. For a long time I didn’t have the money. Now I don’t have the time.”

“What do you know about the Dead Sea?”

“Not much other than that it’s in Israel.”

“Then to explain how I feel, I swam in it when we were there. It’s a salt lake that is twelve hundred and ninety-three feet below sea level. That means it’s the lowest point on earth. It’s so thick with salt that you’re warned not to get the water in your eyes because if you do, they’ll be terribly burned.”

“Zan, how does that relate to you now?”

Zan’s voice broke as she said, “I feel as if I’m at the bottom of the Dead Sea with my eyes wide open. Does that answer your question, Kevin?”

“Yes, it does. Oh, God, Zan, I’m sorry.”

“I really believe you are. Kevin, my lawyer just came in. Time to go get fingerprinted and booked. Thanks again.”

Kevin replaced the phone on the cradle, then turned away so that Louise Kirk, who was opening the door of his office, would not see the tears in his eyes.