Ghost Light (6 page)

“Do you mean to tell me that you think… you actually
think
you can take my
children
away from me? You can’t do it!”

His voice broke, and—
damnit
—if Cindy didn’t see a glaze of tears filling his eyes.

Turning to Cindy, he shouted, “You can’t take my kids away from me! There’s no way in hell I’ll let you do this! You set her up for this, didn’t you? You pushed her! This is something you
made
her do!” His voice broke, sounding like an angry tear of cloth. “But I won’t let you! No fucking way! You won’t get away with it!”

For an instant, Cindy thought he was going to launch himself out of his chair at her and strangle her. She braced herself while fighting for mental calm. This was as much of a surprise for her as it was for Alex, and in the presence of a witness, she wanted to keep her cool, not get emotional.

“I… had no idea,” she whispered, locking eyes with Krendall and shaking her head.

Alex continued to make angry sputtering sounds, but after a moment he obviously gained control of himself. For several seconds—seconds that seemed to Cindy to stretch out into long, agonizing minutes—a muffled silence filled the room, broken only by the steady hum of the air conditioner. Her hands were shaking as she covered her face and took a long, hissing breath.

“I had no idea,” she repeated.

“The hell you didn’t,” Alex muttered.

When Cindy glanced over at him, she caught the malevolent stare he was giving her. It struck her with a cold, numbing touch.

“Well now—” Krendall said. He cleared his throat again and clapped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously. “As I said, this document creates an extremely difficult situation for the two of you. The first thing we should consider, I suppose, is if Mrs. Toland is not inclined to execute her obligation as expressed in—”

“No,” Cindy snapped, speaking before she could even think about the ramifications. “I want to have them.” She cautioned herself that there was no way she could clearly see all the consequences of accepting this responsibility, but a single, crystal thought echoed in her mind—

There were three packed suitcases upstairs! Debbie was so afraid of Alex she was packed and ready to leave with the kids!

“No, I
definitely
want them.”

“But you won’t get them,” Alex said. Hs voice sounded low and controlled, no doubt for the lawyer’s benefit, but she detected the implied threat in his words. “They’re my children.” He turned to the lawyer and held his hands up in a pitiful, helpless gesture. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “They’re all I have left… of my wife, and I’m all
they
have left… for parents. You can’t sit there and tell me that the law will actually take them away from me.”

Krendall stroked his chin, considering his words carefully before he spoke.

“Your wife’s last will and testament is a legally binding document, Mr. Harris. I didn’t get to finish reading it, but further on it also provides financially for the children.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean there’s a bank account which your wife opened up in the children’s and her sister’s name.” He slid a small, olive green booklet from the file folder and presented it to Alex, who opened it and flipped through the pages before tossing it back onto the lawyer’s desk.

“Apparently for the past year or more, your wife has been salting away money into this account. You can see that it was opened back in April of last year, and already there’s a balance of better than ten thousand dollars in there.”

Alex’s face was white. His mouth moved, but no words came out.

“I—my husband and I were never able to have children of our own,” Cindy said, her voice threatening to hitch with every syllable as she leaned closer to the lawyer, demanding his attention. “And I want to make it clear to you—absolutely clear that I’m willing—more than willing to take care of these children.”

Alex sneered. “What the hell can
you
provide that I can’t?”

A mother… and love
, Cindy thought but didn’t say. Instead, she held the lawyer’s gaze, mentally commanding herself to be strong in front of him if only to prove that she was, indeed, the better person, the one who
should
assume responsibility of her dead sister’s children.

Krendall looked at her and frowned deeply. “Did you know anything about the contents of your sister’s will before today?” he asked.

Cindy shook her head and blinked her eyes rapidly so the tears wouldn’t fall. “No… She never mentioned anything about it. I mean, I had suggested she do it, but she never told me that she had.” She could feel the heat of Alex’s gaze, searing her as he glared at her.

“Well, then, Mrs. Harris—I’m sorry. I mean Mrs. Toland, I would advise you to consider this situation very carefully. Your sister has placed a grave responsibility on your shoulders, and you have to consider the impact all of this will have on your own life. Your home life, your job, your social life—everything will be affected. My first recommendation would be that you talk about this very seriously with your husband, and then get yourself a lawyer.”

“My husband uses William Holder for his business,” Cindy said sullenly.

“Sure, I know Bill. He’s a good lawyer. So, then, I’d suggest you give him a call and talk this over with him. Once you and your husband discuss all of this and come to some sort of mutual decis—”

“She doesn’t need to,” Alex said, his voice fairly crackling with controlled fury. Cindy looked over at him and was positive that, at that moment, she had never hated him more in her life.

“She doesn’t need to because she’s not going to get them. There’s no way in
Hell!
I’ll fight you on this. I swear to God I’ll fight it all the way to the goddamn Supreme Court if I have to. There’s no fucking
way
you’re going to take my children away from me!”

Krendall obviously felt uncomfortable, caught as he was in this emotional crossfire. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before saying, “My initial advice to you stands, Mrs. Toland. I think you should contact your husband’s lawyer and fill him in on what’s happened so far.”

“But… but why can’t I use you?” she asked, hunching her shoulders. The skin at the back of her neck felt like it was on fire. “You know everything that’s happened so far, and you were Debbie’s lawyer. Why can’t you straighten it all out?”

“You said it—I’m your sister’s lawyer and, thus, I represent her husband’s interests. It would obviously be a conflict of interest,” Krendall replied. “If Mr. Harris chooses to contest his wife’s will—”

“You bet your ass I intend to!”

“—then you will need your own legal counsel. As I said when we began, this whole matter presents a quite complicated legal situation. It’s something I’ve never experienced before, anyway. Now, if the two of you can come to some kind of agreement, that would be best. If you can’t… well, then, I’ll be blunt—it’s going to get very brutal and very expensive.”

And you don’t know the half of what Alex is capable of
, Cindy thought, cowering as she glanced over at her brother-in-law. She closed her eyes a moment, fighting back the tears and wanting to explode. Then, in a tight, high voice, she said, “Can they come with me now?”

“Who?”

“The children,” she said, a bit more forcefully. “Can they come home with me… today?”

“There’s no way in Hell!” Alex shouted as he slammed his fist on the chair arm. “You’re
not
taking my kids away from me! Not without a goddamned court order!”

Cindy looked at Krendall, but he gave her a helpless shrug and said, “Look, Mrs. Toland, until you’ve retained legal counsel, I’m reluctant to say much more. I’d recommend, and I’m sure the courts would recommend, that, in the best interest of the children, they stay with their father … at least for the time being… until all of this can be ironed out. I know this must be… difficult for you, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to make some very tough decisions over the next few days.”

Cindy nodded, knowing that—at least for the moment—she’d been backed into a corner. Again, she wished Harry had come down here with her today so he could have heard everything that had been said. But now, it was time to talk with Harry and their lawyer, and get things in motion. The bottom line was the safety of the children. Cindy’s first thought was that, if Alex had the capacity to murder his own wife, then his children might not be safe in his house, either.

Wondering if she could even stand up, Cindy rose slowly from her chair and leaned across the desk to shake hands with Krendall. Her hand felt like a tangle of cold spaghetti in his beefy grip. When Krendall offered to let her take the will and bank book with her, she declined, asking him to hold on to them until she had a chance to talk with her husband and lawyer. The thought crossed her mind—and she couldn’t dismiss it, not when she knew what had
really
happened to her sister—that Alex would begin to harass her for the documents as soon as she left the lawyer’s office. No, they—and she—would be much safer if the will and bank book were someplace where Alex couldn’t get at them.

“Thank—thank you for your time,” Cindy said feebly.

She turned and started to leave, making a point of avoiding any eye contact with Alex, who she felt was glaring at her. At the door, she stopped and looked back at Krendall. “Mr. Krendall,” she said in a tight, trembling voice. “You used the phrase ‘the best interest of the children’.”

“Yes. That’s a legal phrase judges often use in custody situations.”

Cindy nodded and, in a voice that warbled nervously up and down the scale, echoed herself. “The
best
interest of the children…”

Krendall looked at her expectantly, but she turned and left the office, unable to finish what she had intended to say—
The best interest of the children. Mr. Krendall, would be to get them the hell out of the house of the man who murdered their mother!

Plotting

“G
od
damn
it, I tell you, those kids are in danger,” Cindy told her husband. “I’ve been wanting to see them, to spend some time with them, but I … I just can’t. Not when their father’s around, anyway.”

The night was hot and pressing. The rattle of the air conditioner in the bedroom window was grating on her nerves. Harry sat propped up in the bed, reading a hardware trade magazine by the light of a small reading lamp above him while Cindy continuously paced back and forth across the hardwood floor.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting… I mean, just a little bit, honey?” Harry said, his pale eyes glancing up over the tops of his reading glasses.

Cindy heard more than a trace of exasperation in his voice; but after a full day working at the store and then the two hour meeting with their lawyer after supper, what else did she expect?

The meeting this afternoon with Roy Krendall had put a cold, sick worry in her stomach—and the meeting with William Holder earlier this evening hadn’t helped her to feel any better. Although Holder had assured her that, in his opinion, she had a better than fifty-fifty chance of getting the court to grant her custody, he told her what Krendall had already told her—if Alex decided to dig in his heels and fight this, it was going to be a long, involved, and expensive case.

As she paced, she licked her dry lips. Her breathing came in rapid, shallow sips, as if the air were water and she couldn’t quite quench her thirst.

“I don’t think so… I just don’t think so,” she muttered, shaking her head.

She had exploded at Harry earlier that day, cursing at him and crying because he hadn’t come to the lawyer’s office with her. She told herself that he was probably trying to remain calm and steady because he could see that she was falling apart. On the other hand Harry was acting so distant. Even if he didn’t believe that Alex had killed Debbie, the
least
he could do was acknowledge that Alex wasn’t the best person to raise Billy and Krissy. Her sister’s will had granted her custody of the kids, and—
by Jesus!
—whether Harry was going to help her out with this or not, she wanted them…
now
!

“Come on, Harry,” she pleaded, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. “Think back on how many times you told me how you could feel the bitterness and hostility between Alex and Debbie. Even when they weren’t yelling at each other, you have to admit there was always this undertone of hatred coming from him. Christ, just about every holiday or birthday we’d spend with them, you’d come away, vowing that you’d never go over to their house again. Why was that? Huh?”

Harry shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “Mostly because I didn’t like Alex, I suppose. It’s not like we had all that much in common, and—yeah, I’ll admit it: I didn’t like the way he treated Debbie sometimes.”

“There! Exactly!” Cindy shouted. She stamped her foot on the floor so hard something on the bureau rattled.

“Yeah, but—I mean, that doesn’t mean he killed your sister, and it certainly doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything to hurt his own kids. Come on, Cin. Get a grip!”

Cindy bit down on her lower lip so hard the pain made her wince. “He’s a violent man,” she said in a low whisper, “a very violent man, and now that he doesn’t have my sister to… to—” A sudden flood of emotion choked off her words, and stinging tears filled her eyes. “—to knock around anymore, what if he does something like that? What if he turns all his hostility onto those poor kids?”

“He won’t, believe me. He’s their father, for Christ’s sake, he’s not going to—”

“And Debbie was his wife. Even if you don’t think he actually killed her, you know damned right well he hit her. You’ve seen the bruises on her arms. And that black eye she had a couple of Christmases ago. And you know
damned
right well he drinks too much, and he gets more and more belligerent when he does. That’s something you’d mention after every visit we’d ever have with them, too.”

“Well, sure, but honey… please…” He folded the magazine closed, placed it on the bed stand, and patted the bed beside him. “Come on to bed. You’re just getting yourself all worked up about nothing.”

“About
nothing?
” Cindy blew out her breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and gritted her teeth. Then she nailed him with an angry glare. “Jesus Christ, Harry, my only sister—my
dead
sister—” Again an up-welling of emotion choked off her voice. Tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving hot tracks. “—my sister who was murdered—and I don’t care what you or the police or
anyone
else says, she was
murdered
, goddamnit! She wrote a will giving us custody of her kids. You can’t call that
nothing
!” She was trembling as she looked at her husband, waiting for him to respond. “Christ, Harry, don’t tell me you’re backing out on me.”

“I didn’t say that,” Harry replied softly.

“You do want to take the kids, don’t you?”

“They’re going to be one hell of a responsibility,” Harry said. “I mean, becoming a full scale family overnight. Whew!”

“But you want them, right?”

Harry grunted and gave a quick nod of his head, not at all the overwhelming sign of support Cindy had been looking for.

“Well then, don’t make light of it and say it’s
nothing
, all right?”

“I didn’t mean it that way… Come on, honey. Jeeze, I just hate seeing you get yourself all worked up like this. It’s not good for you. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I already am sick!” Cindy wailed, shaking her fists in frustration. “I’m worried sick about those kids and what might happen to them before we can get legal custody. I’m Krissy’s godmother, for God’s sake! My mother and father and sister are all gone. Krissy and Billy are… are all I have left… They’re the only thing
real
that’s left of my sister, and she gave them to me to take care of.”

“I know, hon. I know, but what the heck are you worried about? Bill told us we’ve got a really good chance of the court giving us custody.”

“I know, but…”

“So what do you think Alex is going to do, kidnap them or something?”

Or kill them, too
, Cindy thought, but before she could say it she stopped short in her pacing and turned to Harry with her mouth gaping open.

“Oh, Jesus!” she whispered. What felt like a cold trickle of icy water ran between her shoulder blades. “Do you think he might…?”

“No. No, I don’t.” Harry slapped his hand against the bed in frustration. “There, great—just great! Now I’ve given you something else to worry about. Honey, please—I’m sorry, okay? Just come to bed now. It’s getting late, and you need your sleep.”

“Jesus, Harry, I couldn’t get to sleep now,” Cindy said.

She moved over to the window and stared out at the slate black night. The chilled breeze from the air conditioner lifted strands of her long, blond hair, making them twine like pale yellow snakes. She stared at her own reflection, focusing on her own eyes as she rubbed her chin, thinking,
How can I do it? How can I get those kids away from him?

“I have to be at the store by seven o’clock,” Harry said, stifling a yawn as he shifted down and pulled the single sheet halfway up his body. He took off his glasses and placed them on top of his magazine.

“But what if…” Cindy said. “What if Alex
does
try something like that? What if he moves out of state just to keep them away from me? People do stuff like that, I’ll bet.”

“I’m sure they do,” Harry said. “Do you want me to turn off the light?”

Cindy said nothing as she shifted her gaze and studied his reflection, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Why was he trying to go to sleep now? He knew damned right well how upset she was. Why didn’t he get up and come over to her? Why didn’t he try to comfort her, hold her, kiss her, and tell her everything would be all right? She wanted to say something, but worry for Billy and Krissy blotted out everything else in her mind.

“I’ll bet if he goes to another state, even just across the river to Iowa, he could ask for custody there; and I’ll bet, because he’s their father, I’ll bet he could have Debbie’s will canceled or revoked or whatever. I’m sure there’s a legal term for it.”

Harry heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sure there is, but he isn’t going to try something like that. First off, I don’t think he’d even think of it. He’s not all that smart.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cindy wheeled around and stared at her husband. “Well, then, I guess you don’t really know Alex Harris. He’s a damned lot smarter than he lets on.”

“Even so, he’s not going to do something as crazy as that because it would get the state police and maybe even the FBI involved.”

“True…” Cindy said, turning back to look out the window. “Alex may be crazy, but he sure as hell isn’t stupid.”

2

He wore sneakers so he wouldn’t have to worry about making any noise as he walked, but he soon realized that he didn’t have to worry about it, even this late at night—the buzzing sound of the cicadas and the distant hum of city traffic would drown out everything else. After cruising past the Toland’s house three times, he parked his car around the corner, on 52nd Street… just in case. Again, he realized that he needn’t have worried. There was a single light on in the upstairs bedroom window, and he knew that Cindy and Harry didn’t have a dog that would alert them if someone was creeping around outside. Besides, if either of them looked out and saw him, he could pretend that he was just out for a late-night stroll.

But this sure as hell wasn’t a casual, late-night stroll.

Alex was seething with rage, and just being near Cindy’s house made his rage boil all the higher.

Who the hell did she think she was, trying to take his kids away from him like that?

He knew damned well that she put his wife up to writing that will! There was no way Debbie would have thought of it on her own. He’d never like Cindy, and he knew that the bitch had never liked him, especially now. He was convinced she would do anything and everything in her power to make him suffer.

Christ, as if he hadn’t suffered enough already!

A little more than a week ago, he’d lost his wife in a tragic accident. He sniffed with laughter and thought,
Yeah, some accident! She accidentally tried to fuck with me!

For the past week, his kids—especially Krissy—seemed to never stop crying and whining about how much they missed their mommy and wanted to see her. And then today this fuck-face lawyer Debbie had hired flashes a will that gives the kids away—
his
kids!—to that bitch, Cindy!

And maybe worst of all was the amount of money Debbie had stashed away in that bank account. Better than ten thousand dollars! So that’s where his hard-earned money had gone! No wonder it had seemed like he was working his ass off and there still wasn’t enough money for groceries and bills. She’d been hiding it, stealing it right from under his nose so she could get away from him.

Alex laughed again, a thin, dry sniffle and then spit onto the sidewalk.

Well, babe
, he thought bitterly,
I guess to Christ we could say you finally got away from me!

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now, but one thing was certain: there was no way he was going to allow Cindy to take his kids away from him. No way in hell.

Melting into the dappled shadows on the side of the street opposite the house, he stopped and stared over at the silent, shadowed front door. The streetlight at the corner cast the front yard with a powdery, orange glow. Through the leaves overhead, Alex could see the faint blue light of the moon, glowing like a weak light bulb.

Crickets and cicadas whirred in the darkness so loud the sound was like a drill, biting deep into his brain. His hands were sweaty, jammed deep into his jeans pockets. He wanted like hell to light a cigarette but was afraid that even the tiny glow of it might draw attention to him. No, for now he had to play it completely safe. He had to watch and think and calculate just how he was going to get back at Cindy for what she’d done. Why, if she hadn’t convinced Debbie to try to leave him, she might still be alive today!

I didn’t kill her
, he thought, directing his hostile thoughts at the house across the street.
Cindy did by poisoning her mind against me and pushing her to try to leave!

Down at the distant intersection, a car turned onto the street and began moving toward him. Spinning quickly on his heel, Alex started walking away from the house, cringing as the wash of headlights caught up with him, casting long, angled shadows of his legs onto the sidewalk and lawn. His sneakers scuffed the asphalt. He loosened the tension in his shoulders and started whistling a tune as the headlights got steadily brighter. He wanted desperately to turn to see who it was, but he was certain that any second he’d see the flashing blue pulse of a cop car’s light. He was sure they’d pull over and ask what he was doing out here this late at night. He kept walking, pacing himself so he wouldn’t be going too fast or too slow.

Finally, at the corner of 52nd and Elmwood, the car whisked past him. He saw that it was, in fact, a police car. Alex let his breath out in a slow exhale as he drew to a stop and watched the taillights disappear around the next corner up ahead.