At Risk (31 page)

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I suppose there’s really no use in carrying this conversation any further, is there? It must delight you to be right and have everyone else wrong.”

“You’re right, Katie. There isn’t any reason for us to continue this conversation. It’s not my fault that your father is a shit or that you have to hear it from me. Call me when you’ve had time to think this over and decide who the villain really is—because it’s not me.” Liz hung up the phone and kicked the cat’s water dish halfway across the kitchen floor.

“Has everyone gone stark raving mad?” she shouted. How in hell could her daughter blame her because Russell had done to Danielle what he’d done to them and to wife number two? She didn’t hate Russell. She was just sick to death of cleaning up after him.

Liz poured herself another cup of coffee, drank it black, and called Katie back.

“Moms, I’m sorry,” her daughter said. It was obvious that she had been crying. “It’s not your fault that Dad . . . that he let us all down again.”

“He started out right,” Liz said gently. “But addiction and bad choices have messed up his life so bad that I don’t know if he’ll ever get it straight again.”

“I know,” Katie replied. “I know that he never keeps his promises, and I know you always do. I just kept thinking that this time . . . I love you, Moms.”

“And I love you more.”

“I love you much.”

Liz smiled. It was an old game that they’d played since Katie was tiny. “Love you mostest.”

“Is mostest correct English for a full professor?” Katie’s voice wavered between tears and laughter.

“Did you get the letter I sent you?” Liz asked her. “About Aunt Crystal and my mother?”

“Yeah. I did.” Katie paused. “I guess Grandmom’s not coming to Christmas dinner, is she?”

“No, she’s not. But we’ll go out to Arizona together and say a prayer at her memorial.”

“I’d like that. Sort of hello and good-bye all at once.”

“Katie?” Liz’s eyes welled up with moisture. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

With a sigh, Liz told her about Amelia’s accident. Katie listened and then offered to come home.

“For you, Moms. You need me.”

“I need you where you’re at, finishing the summer term. If you want to stay another year, we’ll decide about that together when I come over. Fair enough?”

“Deal. I really miss you,” Katie said.

“And I miss you.” They exchanged good-byes and Liz hung up a second time, relieved that in the middle of everything else, Katie was safe and an ocean away from Clarke’s Purchase.

Liz put the dirty cups in the sink, rinsed out the glass carafe of the coffee maker, and put a fresh filter in for the morning. She swept the floor, retrieved the cat dish and washed it. When the kitchen was reasonably neat, she again tried the number that Nora had left. This time, Gregory McMann answered.

“Yes, I got your earlier message. May I ask who you are?”

“Elizabeth Clarke. I’m a friend of Jack’s.”

“And he gave you my private number?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you, but this is an emergency. Jack’s in trouble.” She explained Jack’s request that Mr. McMann contact an attorney specializing in criminal law. Surprisingly, McMann didn’t hang up on her and didn’t ask if she’d lost her mind.

“You say these were Delaware State Police who took him in for questioning? I assume that this is Kent County?”

Liz assured him that it was. Then she passed on the information that Jack wanted the best representation, regardless of cost.

“That goes without saying,” McMann answered. “Tell Jack that I’ll have someone there tonight.”

“Tonight?” It was already seven-thirty. How could he find an attorney of that caliber at this hour? “Could I ask what your relationship is with Jack?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, but that’s privileged information, Ms. Clarke. I can tell you that I also consider Jack a friend. Tell him not to worry. I’ll handle this.”

As soon as she had completed that conversation, Liz called Nora to tell her that McMann had promised to find a criminal attorney for Jack. Nora was thanking her once more when Liz heard the sound of a vehicle coming up her lane.

“I’ve got to go,” Liz said. “Someone’s here. And don’t worry; I’m sure this is all a mistake.” She placed the receiver on the hook and went to the back door in time to see Michael’s van pulling to a stop beside the gate.

As she approached, Michael powered down the front passenger window. “Hi,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Get in,” he said.

She opened the van door and stepped inside. Michael was holding a bouquet of long-stem yellow roses.

“For you,” he said, handing them to her. “I’m worried about you, Elizabeth. So I brought you some company.” From the back of the van, she heard Otto’s excited whimper.

“Oh, Michael, thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. But I can’t accept Otto. Not after what happened to Heidi.”

“That wasn’t your fault. If you keep him in the house with you, he’ll be safe.” He raised a hand. “Wait, let me say this before I lose my nerve. I know my timing couldn’t be worse. It’s been terrible for you,” he said. “Your student’s death, your home being broken into, your mother’s passing, and now the loss of your friend. You’ve had more than enough to break you, Elizabeth, but you haven’t cracked. You’re strong. But sometimes life can be too much, even for the strong. I want you to take the trip with me. And if it’s all I think it will be, I want you to consider becoming my wife.”

Liz leaned back against the door. “You’re right, Michael. I feel like I’m ready to come apart. It has been too much. And I’m too crazy right now to think straight.”

He took a deep breath. “I’m not done. All I ask is that you hear me out. You’re a beautiful woman. You’re smart and you love life. I’m not asking you to go into an unnatural marriage. I promise you that I’ll be able to satisfy you sexually. I’ll be a father to Katie, and I’ll protect you both from anything the world throws at you.”

“Michael, I . . . I’m honored, but . . .” The thought that she loved him but wasn’t in love with him rose in her mind, but before she could utter it, he went on.

“I’m not asking you to give me an answer anytime soon. I just want you to know how I feel about you. Think about it, Elizabeth. Aren’t friendship and respect a stronger foundation for marriage than infatuation?”

“Yes, they could be,” she admitted.

“I never expected to marry again after I lost Barbara. I didn’t think anyone could take her place until I met you.”

“If . . . if I did decide to say yes, and I’m not saying I will,” Liz said, “I could never take Barbara’s place. I wouldn’t want to.”

He cleared his throat and reached for her hand. “I love you and I want to take care of you.”

Liz tensed. “I have to be completely honest. I’ve been dating Jack Rafferty.”

“I know. You deserve better than that. He’ll never make you as happy as I can.”

“Jack and I have been intimate, Michael.”

“Has he asked you to be his wife?”

“No, he hasn’t. And I couldn’t make that commitment to him if he did. Not now. To be truthful, my life is in such turmoil, I can’t decide what I want for dinner, let alone what I want to do with the rest of my life. I need time, Michael.”

“I can respect that. I wanted you to know where I stand.”

“How did you know about me and Jack?”

Michael shrugged. “It’s Delaware. Everybody knows everything, don’t they? I don’t care. I want you to be my wife. I want us to be a family—you, me, and Katie. Promise me you’ll think about it?”

“I will.” Liz felt stunned. She’d known that Michael’s interest in her was more than friendship, but she hadn’t expected this. “You’re a good man, Michael.”

“For a cripple.”

“Don’t say that. You have to understand that I’ve been independent for a long time. I made a terrible mistake with my first marriage, and I’m not certain I can trust my own judgment. If I do marry again, I want it to be for keeps.”

“Me too.” He raised his hand to her cheek, caught her chin between his fingers, and leaned to kiss her on the mouth. She closed her eyes and kissed him back.

Maybe I should say yes tonight,
she thought. Marriage to Michael would be solid; he’d provide the father figure that Katie had never really known.

But could she? Could she turn her back on the passion she and Jack shared? Was what she felt for Jack love, or had she been lured by the excitement of playing with fire?

“You keep Otto with you,” Michael said. “You heard about what those boys found in the river? There’s a crazy out there, and I won’t take chances with your life.”

“I don’t think I need—”

“Please, Elizabeth. For me. I lost one woman I cared for. I couldn’t bear to lose a second.”

“All right. I’ll take him, but only for a little while. And I can’t tell you how long I’ll need to think about this.”

“You’ll never want for anything if you marry me. You have my word on that.” He kissed her again.

Michael’s lips were warm and firm, but they weren’t Jack’s lips. “Would you like to come in?”

“No, you go on in and get a good night’s sleep. I’d like to drive you down to Norfolk for Professor De-Laurier’s funeral next week.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the beautiful flowers.” She got out of the van, opened the side door, and called to the big German shepherd. “I’ll be good to him,” she said. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”

“It’s you I’m worried about,” Michael said. “I’ll sleep better knowing that Otto’s looking after you.”

It was ten-thirty when the telephone woke her. Liz hadn’t been asleep more than a few minutes, and she was groggy as she raised the receiver.

“Lizzy. It’s me. I’m sprung.”

“Jack?”

Otto got up from the rug by the bedroom door and fixed her with a keen gaze, obviously picking up on the apprehension in her voice.

“Did I wake you?”

She pulled the phone onto her bed and wiggled to a sitting position. The German shepherd’s ears pricked up, and muscles coiled beneath his sleek hide. Liz covered the bottom of the receiver with her hand and spoke to the dog. “Easy, boy.” She removed her hand and said into the phone, “The police let you go?”

“I’m coming over.”

“No, not tonight. I’m tired, Jack. And I think you owe me an explanation.”

“Do you think I’m a homicidal maniac? That I murdered someone and chopped them up for bait?”

“No, I don’t. But you haven’t been completely honest with me. I’ve got too many unanswered questions.”

“Trust me. I’ve got reasons for—”

“No, I’m tired of your dancing around the truth. Is McMann F.B.I. or some sort of government agent? Is he a business associate of yours? What’s your connection with him, and why would you call him to find you an attorney?”

“I’d rather not go into it now.”

“That’s your right. Mine is to cool things between us for a while.”

“What?”

“This has all happened too fast. I think I’m losing control. I can’t deal with us now. Hell, I don’t know what I can deal with. I’m thinking of going to Ireland for a month after Amelia’s funeral. Maybe there I can put things in perspective.”

“Look, Lizzy, I know—”

“Do you, Jack? Do you have any idea? As if my life hasn’t been crazy enough these past weeks, tonight Michael Hubbard asked me to marry him.”

“Are you serious?” he demanded. “What about us? Does he know—”

“I told him we’d been dating.”

“Is that what you call it? Dating?” Jack swore softly. “Lizzy, I won’t let you do this.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. And you being arrested tonight doesn’t help. What am I supposed to think?”

“I wasn’t arrested. They took me in for questioning. How many times did your father spend a night in jail?”

“That’s a cheap shot. You’re the one who wanted a high-powered criminal attorney.”

“Mom shouldn’t have pulled you into this. I asked
her
to call McMann, not you.”

“Good night, Jack. Call me when you’re ready to stop playing games.”

It was after one a.m. when the Game Master, face darkened with body paint and garbed in a black wetsuit, paddled his kayak silently out of the marsh to the dock at Clarke’s Purchase. There was no moon; the clouds hung thick and heavy with rain, and the mournful cries of night birds mingled with the rustling of reeds and the croaking of frogs.

The house lay quiet, illuminated only by an overhead porch light and the flood lamp in the back yard. The Game Master slipped into the water and pushed his kayak under the dock. The cool water closed around his lower body as he snugged the craft to a tarred post with unsteady hands.

He was not himself.

Since he’d stopped for the tramp, everything had gone wrong—her too-easy disposal, the discovery of her bones, his loss of control. Even tonight, his blood pulsed with the echo of the taunting voices that plagued his existence and would not let him sleep.

Was this the professor’s hour? He didn’t know. He wouldn’t know until he laid eyes on her. If she slept, he might grant her mercy for another week . . . another day. But if the dog woke her, if she caught him in her bedroom, both she and the animal would have to die.

Resolute, he waded along the shadowed side of the dock to the shoreline and crouched behind the last piling. He inhaled the night air, relishing the scents of marsh and woodland . . . intoxicated by the sweet, rotting tang of a bloated fish that the outgoing tide had stranded on the sand.

The feeble circle of light didn’t deter him. He would circle around to the end of the house, enter from the cellar door. Locks and bolts couldn’t keep him out. He moved stealthily, his eyes and ears missing nothing.

The Game Master flexed his powerful fingers, hoping that he’d not have to choke the life from his professor tonight. If he captured her alive, there might be time for a lingering good-bye before he had to move on to sweet Katie.

He hated to be rushed, but the professor no longer trusted him. He must strike soon, before she evaded him completely. And the voices plagued him, pushing, pushing, urging him to act before he could cautiously plan the final moves of his game.