The Widow's Walk (18 page)

He caved and picked up the phone. “Mr. Jeffers, Mrs. Elizabeth Levine to see you.”

An Alvin the Chipmunk voice, unintelligible, dribbled from the receiver.

He replaced it gently on the cradle. “I trust you recall the way.”

The door buzzed open. Liz ducked in before he changed his mind and crammed herself into the elevator. She needed some company to distract her, help her pretend this was a routine business or social call.

She hopped out and walked toward Bill’s gorgeous three-bedroom with panoramic views of Boston. He was waiting in the doorway, his look somewhere between a cornered fox and a deer who’d just realized it was about to be hit by an SUV. She slid her hand into her pocket, took out her phone, and tapped on the voice to text.

Eddie, lulled to sleep by the car ride, hung like a lead sinker. Liz’s back and neck ached, the pain in her leg now extended up into her right hip. She struggled not to slouch, to limp.

Barefoot, baggy chartreuse silk pajama bottoms that had seen more prosperous times, the matching shirt partially buttoned over paunch, a day’s worth of scraggly beard and tousled, gray streaked hair that stuck up like devil’s horns on the back of his head–the once high powered lawyer was obviously melting in the heat of investigation.

“Liz.” The stench of stale beer laced Bill’s breath. His eyes, red rimmed, darted side-to-side.

“Bill.” Though toting an infant, one leg in a brace, her heart threatening to come out of her chest, Liz’s clothes fit, and she wasn’t drunk. Seeing him rattled bolstered her confidence.

“Come in.” He tripped on a drooping pant hem but righted himself. Still had that leer. The same one as when he’d propositioned her.

“No, thanks.” No way would she allow herself to be in his apartment while holding her baby. Her arms closed around Eddie, as if that would protect him.

To Bill, being in control, being on top, was paramount. Not being there had to be killing him. Small consolation, but he was as miserable as all the people he’d defrauded. “What are you doing here? Don't you use that phone to take a picture.”

Deep inside, Gerry’s fury gurgled and spewed from Liz’s mouth in a feminine version of his deliberate incisive trial lawyer’s drawl. “The last thing I want is a picture of you. But I’ll call 911 if you get anywhere near me. Why did you do it, Bill? You took advantage of my son’s vulnerability. Used it to prop open a window and sneak in to rob me. And then, not content with destroying one family, you went on to decimate others. You ruined a practice that took years to build, betrayed your partner, your staff. And you have the balls to ask me what I’m doing here?”

“I could have you arrested for harassment, stalking.” Bill struggled to control his boozed up tongue.

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Jeffers?” She could push him over with little effort.

“You’re the one who showed up uninvited, Mrs. ‘whatever you are now,’ pretending to be Mrs. Levine to get past the doorman.”

“Call the cops, Bill. I dare you. Have me arrested. Wait until I stand up in court describing how you felt threatened by a woman holding a baby in the hall outside your apartment. You know, a widow, like the other widows you stole money from. You’re a scumbag. You’re going to jail. You’re going to hell.”

He waved her away and turned to go back inside, fists clenched. Just before the door closed, Liz put up her hand to hold it ajar.

“Give it back. All of it.” The words were out before Liz realized that Gerry had stolen her voice.

“You better get the fuck out of here now.” Bill gritted his teeth. The muscles in his neck twitched, the veins bulged, pulsed.

Touché
. Probably having nightmares. “Gerry’s haunting you, isn’t he? Sweet dreams.” Liz walked away.

Bill’s gaze bored into her back. Would a bullet go through her and kill Eddie, too? The door slammed as she turned the corner to the elevator and slumped against the wall, dripping sweat, her heart pounding.

She hugged her son close. Liz had done her dirty work, now it was Elisabeth’s turn. She took the elevator alone and dashed across the lobby. Huffing, puffing, limping, abandoning all pretense, she passed by the doorman.

“Good night, Mrs. Levine. Nice to . . .” His greeting vanished into the revolving door.

The cold froze tear droplets on her face. Eddie whimpered. Two police officers walked across the plaza in her direction. Could Bill have called the cops?

Nauseated, shaking, Liz walked as slow as she could so as not to raise their suspicions. She contemplated ducking into the T station, but would be cornered there buying a Charlie Card or waiting for the train.

She hurried down the plaza steps toward Fanueil Hall and blended into the dinner-going crowd, wishing she could just stop into the old
Steaming Kettle
and relax. It was a Starbucks now, anyway. The cops did come down the stairs, but from her vantage point behind a shuttered souvenir kiosk, Liz saw them going in the opposite direction. She hastened to the taxi stand and hopped into the first car.

The driver turned, a wicked grin on his face. Was she being paranoid? Should she get out and take the next one? The baby’s desperately needed diaper change diffused the tension. The cabbie lowered his window and put the car in drive.

“Howard Johnson’s Fenway.” She exhaled. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 26

The ghosts faded into the tiniest motes of dust. Mike just made it to the bathroom sink. Kevin’s patted his back.

Mae closed the lid on the toilet, sat down. “It’s all coming back to me, dear God, like it just happened. I was so tired. We’d been up all night. I shouldn’t have . . .”

“No more.” Kevin took her hand while still tapping Mike. “It wasn’t your fault the last time, and isn’t this time either.

Mike rinsed his face, his mouth, the sink. Goosebumps popped out. Chilled, shaking, his stomach hurting like he’d been punched, he forced himself to breathe. He took a swig of water.

Neither had noticed their brogues fading, Kevin’s into stilted turn of the century speech, and Mae’s into Katherine’s shy, wispy British.

He had no idea who he was, never mind who he sounded like. “What did your letters say?”

Mae shrugged before burying her face in Kevin’s chest.

He embraced her and spoke to Mike over her shoulder. “Only that she was sorry to upset me, but not to worry. To please give the horses extra snacks because they’d miss her and Eddie visiting. That she’d be back as soon as possible.”

“Any idea where she went, Mae?” The two women shared lots of secrets, maybe she’d be able to parse some meaning, some inkling from the wording.

She grabbed a tissue and mopped her nose. “I don’t know. Maybe if I study it. I’m too upset.”

Shit, this was too weird. Did they realize their ghosts were speaking for them, through them?

Kevin was typically upbeat, optimistic. “We’ve got to be calm, think this through. She doesn’t have much money . . .”

“Oh, yes she does.” Mike interrupted. “Got a payout of a CD. The question is, where else could she go? Boston? Her lawyer is there, and her old friends. I bet she’s down there holed up with Marti. I’ll try and find her number on an old cell phone bill.”

“Good idea! We can look online and see the call activity. I have all the account passwords in case I need to pay bills.” Mae snapped back to herself, seemingly never realizing she’d been gone.

“What about Sandra?” Kevin put his hands on his hips. “Are the two of ya forgettin’ what we just saw?”

“Ya should’ve been here last night. Looked like Jared was about to attack Liz, and that Elisabeth was ready to escape from inside her.” A look of alarm, like someone had stuck her with a pin jolted Mae upright. “If Elisabeth’s in control, I’m not sure Liz can stop her.”

Mike grabbed her shoulders. “What happened?”

Mae chewed her lip. “Jared was coming toward Liz. It looked like hands, legs growing out of her.”

Another piece popped into the jigsaw, but the puzzle was far from complete. “Out of the dimension Sandra said she was trapped in.”

Kevin raised his hands like he was doing the wave at a baseball game. “I said fifteen minutes ago we should call Sandra. The longer we wait, the further Liz can travel.”

Mae shook her head. “No good will come of that woman bein’ here, Kevin. She’ll blab it all over town. Liz will be ruined, committed.”

Mike stroked Mae’s arm. “I trust Sandra more than I trust my wife right now. I think Kevin is right. Two against one.” Mike fumbled in his pocket, found his wallet, rifled through the cards. “Here it is.” He picked up the phone.

“If ya think I’m goin’ to be in the same room when ya go through yer little black book, Michael Keeny, and callin’ yer . . .”

“Mae!” Kevin put his hand over her mouth. “What’re ya sayin’ fer the love of God!”

“Sandra is my friend, nothing more. I want my wife back, whole, healed.” Mike dialed.

Mae stormed out.

Three rings, and the message picked up. “Moonstone. Leave a message.” Chiming bells, a gong. Each sound pounded Mike’s head like a hammer.

“Sandra, it’s Mike Keeny. I need you to come over as soon as you can. Liz is missing, and we need your help to figure out what to do next.” He left off the part about the angry ghosts.

Mae walked into the room blabbering on her cell. “No Jay, I . . . I don’t . . . wait, please . . .”

Jay talked so loud they all heard him. “Where the hell is she? I tried leaving messages but she won’t call me back. I was about to drive to the Cape, but now I guess I need to track her down in Boston. She’s probably with that rabble rouser Marti.”

“Jay, listen. Yer mom is under a lot of stress. She can’t talk to ya. That’s your doin’, not hers. All this nonsense with the lawyers. Call them, not her. Jay, Jay?” She looked at them. “He hung up.”

Kevin rolled his eyes and raised his hands to heaven. “Just what we need now.”

The phone rang. A Boston area code. Mike grabbed it, fumbled the receiver, recovered. “Hello.” “Mike, this is Marianne Hartley. We’ve got an emergency. Do you know where your wife is right now?”

His stomach lurched. “What happened to her?”

Marianne’s normally calm voice sounded like it could shatter glass. “She showed up at Bill Jeffer’s apartment this afternoon. He claims she’s stalking him, threatened him, and has filed a police report against her.”

He suppressed a chuckle. Liz was acting like a normal, twenty-first century woman scorned instead of a Victorian hysteric. “She did? Good for her. I’d like to see an account of that go down in a courtroom.”

Marianne did not seem to share his relief. “Mike, things are very delicate right now. There are a lot of legal wranglings. I’ve had this discussion with Liz already. She can’t do anything to make herself appear unstable. I need to speak to her right away. Get her side of the story.”

“Well . . . she’s not here. Went off with Eddie. Didn’t say where.” So far he wasn’t lying.

“Mike, she’s not answering her phone. I emailed her three times. Are you sure she’s okay? The last time I spoke with her she was in such a state.”

Worry prickled him again. He had no business not telling the lawyer the truth. “Marianne she left me a note saying she’d be gone for awhile, trying to straighten things out. We’ve been having some difficulties lately.”

Her voice dropped an octave, like a doctor delivering somber news. “This is very concerning. Look, Mike. I’ll be frank. This behavior is very uncharacteristic. Now you tell me Liz just disappeared after I wired nearly $10,000.00 to her bank account. Where is the baby?”

What remained of his you go, girl humor vanished. “He’s with her, and she assured me they were both fine.”

“And you believe that?”

Now he’d be lying. “We just found out, Marianne. Of course we’re all concerned. Not much has been going right for Liz lately.” He looked at Mae and Kevin. “I’m going to put you on speaker.”

The electronic twang reverberated in the room. Mae and Kevin looked like the ghosts were still standing in front of them.

“Mae, tell Marianne what Jay wanted.”

“Er, well, he just called askin’ fer his mom. Seems Bill Jeffers rang him up to let him know his mother had been visitin’, totin’ his little brother, lookin’ like a bag lady. Mind ya, these are Jay’s words, and I’ve no idea what’s the truth.”

Marianne sighed like she was melting. “So, Jeffers called Jay. Just what I feared. As you recall there is still an open matter involving Liz’s competence to manage her affairs. Bill is still handling it. Until the Bar censures him, he can practice law. And for all his supposed anguish, Jay has not asked that the matter be closed. She might lose her right to manage the assets of the estate. That would tie up any settlement money.”

Mike banged on the desk. “And that spoiled brat is still dealing with that crook? He’s been calling his mother all contrite and conciliatory.”

“Mike, I have no idea what is going on with Jay and Jeffers. But do not give any information to Jay. Do not let him into the house. Liz has been instructed not to see her son. They could use anything against her.”

Mae broke in. “Ms. Hartley, is Liz in any danger of being arrested?”

“That depends, Mae. If Jeffers presses charges, the police will want to talk to her. If they can’t find her, they’ll issue a warrant. She’ll be picked up wherever she is and taken into custody.”

Kevin gritted his teeth and growled. “The guy steals her money, and she’s gettin’ arrested? I never understood American law.”

“I’m going to ask the three of you some hard questions. First, do you believe that Liz poses a danger to herself or to anyone else, the baby included? Second, do you have any inkling of where she might be so I can send a private investigator out to find her before things get out of hand?”

The three of them looked at each other. “What should we tell her?” Mike mouthed.

Mae and Kevin shrugged their shoulders.

“Are you still there?” Marianne asked.

“Yes.” Mike decided to answer the easy one first. “She’s probably with her friend Marti Goldman in Boston.”

Marianne exhaled. “Great. I represented Marti a few years back. Do you have a current phone number?”

Mae stopped biting her nails. “It’s in the red address book.” She rifled through the drawers.

Marianne pressed on. “And are you at all concerned about her being suicidal, or that she might neglect or hurt the baby?”

Mae looked at Mike and raised her voice so Marianne would hear it clearly. “Liz is one of the most devoted mothers I know. Attentive, very safety conscious. She made us all take infant CPR classes. There is no way she’d harm that child.”

Mike hoped that would be enough–and that she was right.

“And herself? Because if there is any concern we should contact the police.”

“We’ll call Marti and get back to you, Marianne.” Delay, distract. But was he really doing Liz a service? Jared flip-flopped. No, he wasn’t.

“If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m calling the police.” Marianne seemed to have gleaned their misgivings even over the phone.

“Give us an hour.” Mike disconnected. “I better call and warn Marti.”

“We’ll give you some privacy, Mike.” Kevin led Mae into the kitchen.

He found the number and dialed, not sure how he was going to explain he’d just involved her in Liz’s legal troubles.

“Liz?” Her voice was expectant, or maybe it was relief.

His hope for quick resolution tanked. “Hi, Marti. No, it’s Mike Keeny. I was wondering if you’ve heard from her. We had an argument, and she left with the baby. Then I got this call from Marianne Hartley, the lawyer. Liz paid a visit to Bill Jeffers and stirred up the pot.”

Marti giggled. “That’s my girl. I’ve been telling her not to take any shit from that ass-hole. Don’t worry, Mike. She’s in Boston. Called me a little while ago. I owe her big time for helping me out a few years ago, and I’ve got her back. Promised not to say anymore to anyone, but I know she’s crazy in love with you and once all this financial mess is over, things will work out.”

Something about her cheerful demeanor seemed overdone, but he barely knew the woman. Liz always said she was pretty tough, and pretty rough, but that Marti was the best friend she’d ever had.

He wanted to believe that. “Marti, please tell her to call me. And Marianne Hartley. Bill is raising a big fuss and might press charges. The police may want to talk to her, and I want to avoid a bigger mess.”

If she was concerned, Marti didn’t let on. “I’ll tell her, Mike. But she’s good. Really. Trust her to work it out.”

She’d made it easier than he’d expected. “Marianne wanted your number. Is it okay if I give it to her?”

“I think she has it already, but sure. That’s another person Liz has battling for her. Marianne Hartley knows how to get things done. And she doesn’t take any shit either. Bill is going to jail, and he knows it. He’s desperate.”

“Thanks, Marti. Tell Liz I love her, and to kiss Eddie for me.” Tears spilled out of his eyes.

“Hugs to you, Mike. I will. Bye.” She disconnected.

Mike wiped his eyes as Mae came back in. The timing was too perfect. She probably heard everything. “Liz is in Boston. Marti didn’t know about the thing with Bill, but said Liz was fine. They have some kind of
Ya-Ya Sisterhood
pact, something about having each other’s back.”

“But she isn’t with Marti?” Mae frowned.

“No, not now. But they’ve spoken. Still, something about Marti’s tone of voice–I don’t know.”

“Liz will not hurt the baby.”

Mike turned his head to the strange yet familiar voice so fast his neck muscles seared.

Sandra appeared next to Kevin. How had she gotten in here so silently? “I found this in the driveway.” She brushed one of Liz’s scarves across her cheek as she stared into a flat black piece of glass in her palm. Her eyes didn’t blink, and she rotated her head clockwise, then counterclockwise.

“I see an airplane, cold, fog.” Sandra looked up and blinked. Her awareness returned to the room.

Mae’s eyes launched daggers. “What are you doin’ here? Where did you get Liz’s scarf?”

Kevin came to her defense. “Mike asked her to come. Sandra asked for something that belonged to Liz. I found it in the driveway. Must have fallen out of her car.”

Mike found words. “Where did she go, Sandra?”

“To search for Edward. To tie up the dangling threads of her life.”

The dreamy, nonspecific rambling was getting on the last nerve he had left.

Mae’s was already snapped. She rustled through a ledger. “I’m going to check the credit card records. She has to have spent some money.”

If Sandra was insulted, she didn’t show it. “Do you have the pendant I gave Liz, Mike? That might help locate her.”

He wished he had them now. “Both the pendant and key fob are missing. She put them somewhere.”

“So, the power in them frightened her. She doesn’t want to be found.”

The computer keyboard clicked. Mike looked over Mae’s shoulder, going with modern methods. They saw the charge at the same time.