Close to You (31 page)

Jimmy Willis crouched behind a tree and waited as the police patrol car passed.

Tough.
This curfew was stupid and he was determined to hit a few more houses before he went home for the night His mother was already ticked off at him for being hauled into the station last night after the cops caught him egging the neighbors' house. She had forbidden him to go out tonight, but it had been a cinch to sneak out anyway. Might as well have some good loot in his bag for his pains—and the grounding that was sure to come.

The fourteen-year-old waited until the red taillights were out of sight. He came out from his hiding place and continued down Saddle Ridge Road.

 

Samuel looked like he had lost his best friend as he sat on the sofa in her den. Eliza's heart went out to him.

“I can't eat I can't sleep. I feel terrible without you in my life.”

The phone rang, buying Eliza time.
Saved by the bell.
What was she going to say to make him feel better?

“Excuse me, Samuel.” Eliza walked over to the desk and picked up the receiver. A proud new father was on the other end of the line.

“Congratulations, Keith! That's wonderful. How is Cindy?” Eliza could feel Samuel watching her as she listened to Keith's response. She picked up the audition tape and began to fiddle with the box.

“C-section? Oh, that's too bad. But better that than something happening to the baby.”

Absentmindedly Eliza clicked the box open and then closed it again.

“Nine pounds? Wow! That's a big fella. Have you named him yet?”

Keith told her his son's name, but it did not register. Eliza had opened the box and looked at the label affixed to the video cartridge.

Under Linda Anderson's name was that of her business representative. The agent was named Samuel Morton.

Abigail scrubbed the brown makeup from her face and changed into sweats. While she didn't want to be part of the Halloween craziness on the streets, she didn't want to sit in all by herself, either. She went out to see if she could find a quiet bar.

 

The tiny eyes were clamped shut, the rosebud mouth opened, emitting a tiny yawn. Perfect ears, perfect nose and, wrapped snugly beneath the cotton receiving blanket, perfect fingers and perfect toes.

Robert Keith Chapel, his son.

Keith gazed at the miracle that lay in his wife's arms.

Cindy looked up at her husband and their eyes locked in mutual understanding.

It had all been worth it. Now they could move forward, together, as a family.

Cindy had been through so much and Keith hoped she could forgive him for the way he had behaved and, eventually, he hoped he would be able to forgive himself.

 

Eliza tried to remember. Hadn't she told Samuel about the
FRESHER LOOK
she was working on? Yes. She had, that night at dinner at Esty Street. He hadn't remarked on it.

She wanted desperately to give Samuel the benefit of the doubt. She didn't think she had mentioned Linda Anderson. Maybe he hadn't made the connection. But even if she hadn't mentioned Linda by name, the case she had described to Samuel should have provoked a response from him about the anchorwoman he had represented.

Eliza's spine stiffened. She needed time to think. Perhaps it was another Samuel Morton. She took her seat across from Samuel.

“Where were we?” she asked.

“I was telling you how miserable I am without you. Please, Eliza, isn't there some way you'll reconsider? We can go slowly. I promise, I won't push things. But I need to know that we can still see each another.”

“We can, Samuel, as long as you know that it will be as friends.”

That was not the answer Samuel wanted. He winced as though Eliza had struck him.

“Come,” she urged, rising from her chair. “Let's go into the kitchen and get you a drink.”

She had just finished filling his glass with wine when the telephone rang again. “I don't want to let it go,” she apologized. “It might wake Janie.”

Samuel nodded glumly.

“Ms. Blake? This is Bob Lieber from Sloan-Kettering. I hope you don't mind that I'm calling you at home.”

“No, not at all. How are you?”

“Concerned. I'm here in my office working late tonight. Our counseling department ran your friend's daughter's name through our computer.”

“Yes?”

“Over the last six months, no one named Sarah Morton has been admitted to this hospital.”

 

One more house and that was it. Jimmy was going to stop pressing his luck.
That TV newswoman should be good for some decent candy.

He tossed away his forbidden cigarette and walked up to the brightly-lit colonial, pushed the bell and waited. The door didn't open.

Someone was home. Jimmy knew it.

He lifted the door knocker and slammed it insistently.

 

“Don't answer that.”

“It will just take a minute, Samuel.”

“I'm telling you, Eliza. Don't answer it.”

She wanted to run to the front door and fling it open, escaping into the dark night. But Janie . . . Janie was upstairs. She couldn't leave her little girl behind.

Eliza was stunned at the depth of Samuel's deception. There had to be a mistake. No Sarah Morton had been in
the cancer hospital. Why had Samuel lied about that? She couldn't think of a reason.

And then the truly awful fear occurred to her.
What if there never had been a child?

But she had seen the girl's picture on the album of letters Samuel had given her. There was a definite resemblance between the child and Samuel.

A visceral fear rose.

What if Samuel Morton had been Linda Anderson's killer?

 

Who did this woman think she was? Would it kill her to open the door and throw out a piece of candy into his pillowcase? His mother thought it was so cool that this big shot had moved to town. Jimmy was unimpressed.

Jimmy tried the bell one more time and waited until he heard a car coming up the street
Cops.
He ducked behind the bushes beneath the front window.

By the time the police sedan passed, Jimmy had made up his mind. If the homeowner didn't give him a treat, he would give her a little trick. He pulled his weapon from the pillowcase.

He peeked into the front window and looked into the living room. Seeing no one inside, he did a good soap job on the small panes.

But he was still ticked off. He went to the other side and peered into the library. Again, no one there. Angrily he smeared the glass.

Why not finish the job? Emboldened, Jimmy walked quickly to the backyard. The lights were on in the kitchen and from the side window he could see a man and a woman.

He should hightail it out of there.

But what Jimmy saw mesmerized him. He recognized the woman from TV. She was standing with her back to the counter. The man was pacing up and down. While the man wasn't looking, the anchorwoman picked up a knife
from the countertop and slid it under her sweater, into the back of her jeans.

 

She had to get Samuel out of the house. She couldn't let him know what she suspected and she had to get him away from Janie.

Eliza pretended to take a sip of her wine. “Samuel, maybe I've been wrong. Maybe we
can
work things out I'm so confused. I have to think.” Eliza ran her fingers through her hair.

Samuel looked at her hopefully.

“Let's go for a walk around the pond and clear our heads,” she suggested.

“And leave Janie?”

“She'll be okay for a little while. We won't go far. Come on.” She reached out and took his cold hand. “Some fresh air will do us both good.”

 

Holy cripes!

Where were the police when you needed them?

Jimmy ran down Saddle Ridge Road and, for the first time in his life, he prayed he would run into a police car.

He didn't.

 

They said it happened this way sometimes.

You met someone and, instantly, you knew.

Abigail studied the face of the young woman who sat on the bar stool beside her. For the first time in months, she didn't think about Eliza.

 

The pond was peaceful in the reflected autumn moonlight.

Eliza used all her willpower not to recoil as Samuel put his arm around her shoulders. Better there than around her waist.

“Do you really think we can work things out?” he asked softly.

“I'm sure we can,” she lied.

Why doesn't a car drive by? Please, God. Let somebody come. Please, please, please.

Samuel stopped walking and turned her toward him.

“I love you, Eliza.” He lifted her chin and leaned forward to kiss her. She kissed him back. Her life depended on it.

 

“And just where have you been, young man?” Jimmy's mother demanded angrily.

“Mom! Mom! We have to call the police!”

“Don't you think we've had enough of the police lately?”

“You don't understand, Mom.”

“I understand perfectly well. I'm sick and tired of your antics. I told you not to leave your room. Now, you're grounded.”

Jimmy pounded up to his room and flopped onto the bed. He should let the whole thing go, but he couldn't He picked up the phone extension and called information and then asked the number for the HoHoKus police.

His adolescent voice cracked as he began to tell his story.

“Who is this?” demanded the desk sergeant.

“Jim Willis.”

‘The kid who was in here last night?”

“Yeah. But don't worry about that now. I'm telling you, you better get over to that anchorwoman's house on Saddle Ridge Road. This guy and her were in the kitchen and I saw her sneaking a big knife behind her back. It looked real scary in there.”

“Yeah, kid, sure. Happy Halloween.”

 

Eliza didn't close her eyes but watched as Samuel opened his, midway through the kiss. He pulled his mouth from hers.

‘What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. Nothing's wrong.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eliza's right hand moved to the back of her jeans.

“You know, don't you, Eliza?”

“Know what?”

Her hand felt for the handle of the knife.

“About me.”

“What
about
you, Samuel?” She couldn't keep her voice from quivering now. Why didn't someone come? If she screamed, no one might hear her and Samuel would know that she was on to him.

“Don't lie to me, Eliza. I can tell you're lying now. I have watched you for far too long. I watched you in the mornings when you were anchoring
KEY to America.
I've watched you these past months on the
Evening Headlines.
I've taped you and watched you over and over again. I can tell when you are lying.”

“Lying about what, Samuel?”

“You know there is no Sarah, Eliza. I know you do. Don't play coy with me. I made her up to get to you.”

“But I saw her picture,” Eliza answered. “She looks just like you.”

“That was a picture of my brother Leo's daughter.”

Eliza gripped the knife handle.

“I had to find a way to reach you, Eliza. I knew we were meant for each other, and I hoped you would come to see it, too. It was going so well. We were getting closer. You were confiding in me. But you blew it. You ruined it.”

Eliza's mind raced.

Linda had thought she was being stalked but when the police began escorting her, no one had bothered her. Had Linda confided in her agent, unwittingly alerting Samuel that it wasn't safe to follow her while the police were protecting her?

“I hoped it wouldn't have to come to this.” Samuel looked at the gleaming pond. “But you love the water, just as I do—just as Linda did. The water is a tranquil, final resting place. I think so often of Linda. How wonderful to be at rest in the vast Atlantic Ocean.”

“Is that where Linda is, Samuel?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I guess I can tell you—you won't be telling anyone now. Yes, Linda's tomb is off the coast of Sandy Hook. I like to think she's at peace near the place where we had walked so happily together.”

“Surely Linda's body would have washed up somewhere, Samuel.” Eliza tried to keep her voice steady.

“Give me some credit, Eliza. I took Linda from my trunk and strapped her to a good strong air raft and tied some weights on for good measure. Then, just before I launched Linda's funeral bed into the dark sea, I made a small slit in the raft. I watched in the moonlight as Linda floated out and then sank beneath the waves.”

Eliza's decision was made. In one quick movement she thrust the knife up into Samuel's side.

 

The police sergeant would bet a week's pay that the Willis kid was lying. The teenager would get some perverse thrill having a squad car rush out on a false alarm.