Scarlet asked in a small, weak voice, “Was he trying to kill me?”
“No, I don’t believe he was. However, he will be doing some serious time.”
Scarlet’s eyes widened with terrified remembrance. “Gary’s still out there.”
Clearing his throat, the Detective, eyes slightly downcast, said, “Gary Sterling is actually Gary Myers. His wife’s father owns a law firm here in the city, but Gary never passed the bar. He met his wife in college, she became pregnant, and they married two months before the baby was born. I believe the marriage was strongly encouraged by the girl’s parents.”
Feeling as if she’d fallen down the rabbit hole, Scarlet said, “You must have the wrong Gary. I met Gary Sterling on a singles’ site. He was always available. I mean really available … for Christmas and even overnight trips.”
Smyth frowned. “A sad truth I’ve discovered during my years with the force is married men are very available. They’re, for lack of a better word, quite skillful at it. Many will force an argument so they can storm out of the house. Things like a friend going through a tough time and desperately needing them. If the wife can’t understand, then it’s her problem. You wouldn’t believe how creative these men are when it comes to cheating on their spouses.”
Feeling like a naïve fool, Scarlet said, “So the woman I saw him with in Macy’s, was his wife?”
The detective pulled a face. “I don’t know for sure, but I would guess so.”
Scarlet scowled. “And he’s not a civil rights lawyer.”
Smyth shook his head. “He’s a courier for his father-in-law’s law firm.”
Scarlet forced a smile. “He does sort of work in the legal field.”
Narrowing his dark eyes, the detective returned, “The good news is, Gary, is not a physical threat to anyone. You won’t be hearing from him again. He asked us to apologize on his behalf, for lying to you and wasting your time.”
Feeling her face color with embarrassment, Scarlet asked the question hanging heavily in the air,
“So, Stew is the killer, and he’s still out there?”
During the drive from the hospital to Rose’s house, all three passengers agreed not telling Marilyn, Niles or Tom, until after the holidays, was the right decision.
Scarlet might, but probably wouldn’t fill her mom in on the whole story later. Niles and Tom would certainly get a blow-by-blow account, but not until they were sitting in her living room. Scarlet didn’t want to risk them returning home early or worrying when they should be enjoying Christmas.
Joe unlocked the large front door to reveal a newly bathed pig. Prudence greeted Scarlet with a distinct sense of nonchalance.
“Yeah, she’s pretty at home,” Scarlet’s father gave in explanation while heading up the staircase with Scarlet’s bags.
“She was slightly taken aback,” Rose said, “to see us walk into your home without you last night. But the minute we got her here, she started marching about like she owned the place.”
Scarlet and Rose stood transfixed as the little pig followed Joe up the stairs.
Rose put a slender hand to her throat. “I’m glad to see she can get to the second floor under her own steam. She made me carry her last night.”
Resisting the urge to giggle at the image forming in her mind, Scarlet said, “Gran, I’m so sorry. She’s getting heavy.”
Rose waved a hand in dismissal. “I confess, with your Dad staying the night with you at the hospital, I was thankful for Prudence’s company.”
Joe returned to the foyer. “I hope I grabbed everything you’ll need for your trip to Aptos, my love.”
Scarlet expressed her thanks and assured him, whatever he had brought from her house, was just fine.
Rose rubbed Scarlet’s shoulder. “I think some food might be in order.”
“I suspect hospitals and schools share the same chefs,” Scarlet proclaimed, upon entering the kitchen. “But I did get a kick out of the teeny weenie box of Rice Krispies this morning.”
Joe, head halfway in the refrigerator, shook his head. “You and your sister would wear me down until I bought you those packs of miniature cereals. Then, you’d fight over the Rice Krispies and Frosted Flakes and leave the rest.”
Laughing, Scarlet looked past her father into the large open fridge. “Is that more than one so-happy-before-I-died chicken, I spy in there?”
Joe stood aside, allowing his daughter a clearer view. “You spy correctly. We’ve got the whole carefree family of chickens now.”
Gently pushing her son from the fridge, Rose retrieved a large ceramic bowl filled with, what looked to Scarlet, like pasta. “Your Dad and I decided we couldn’t exclude the rest of the family from Christmas, as tempting as the thought of a peaceful and relaxing holiday was.”
Cutting generous slices of French bread, Joe contributed, “Anna told us her parents didn’t even attempt to celebrate Thanksgiving. It was treated like any other day, with she and your Aunt Elsa eating leftover pizza while your Uncle Cecil watched football at some friend’s house.”
Sighing heavily, Scarlet confessed she was concerned about how merry Christmas would be for her mom, with just one daughter for company.
Swallowing a large chunk of French bread, Scarlet continued, “It’s always a little stressful with Lisa’s rules about the boys, but I know Mom still loves having them around.”
Handing Joe a large tray laden with three, now steaming, bowls of pasta and meatballs, Rose led the way to the family room.
“I know you don’t want to worry your Mom with all that’s been going on here,” Joe began, “but how will you explain the surveillance guys?”
Mixing her spaghetti sauce evenly over a generous helping of bowtie pasta, Scarlet responded,
“I’m not sure I’ll need to. They’re pretty much invisible.”
The room fell silent with only the occasional sound of forks hitting porcelain.
Joe effectively changed the subject with his Christmas party anecdotes.
“So, there I am in my monkey suit, feeling awkward.”
“Your father looked very handsome,” Rose interrupted.
Joe patted his stomach. “My swims in the bay have helped get me into shape.” Running a hand through salt and pepper wavy hair, he struggled to regain his train of thought.
“Why did you feel awkward?” Scarlet asked.
Narrowing, large brown eyes, Joe replied, “I think for the plain fact I was alone. It’s odd when you’re with a spouse or a date, I don’t think you notice if people around you are alone or not. But last night, I was so acutely aware of all the couples. I swear I didn’t see one other person who’d come solo.”
Wiping spaghetti sauce from her chin, Scarlet volunteered, “I’m sorry Dad, that must have been uncomfortable.”
Joe shook his head. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me after the night you …”
Trailing off, Joe redirected, “So what did you get your nephews for Christmas? You mentioned, whether Lisa likes it or not, you’re dropping off gifts at their place.”
Smiling gently at her father and noting the concerned look on Rose’s face, Scarlet said,
“I’m okay talking about what happened last night, and the reality of the killer still being at large. I appreciate you two wanting to take my mind off it, but actually, I think we should discuss it.”
Experiencing an equal mixture of apprehension and relief, Rose asked, “You’re not going back to the radio station until this guy is caught, right?”
Scarlet swallowed her last bite of pasta. “Brian, the station manager, called my hospital room this morning. They’re going to stream some sports show from Spokane for the next week. He says past ratings for this time slot indicate listening is down over the holidays anyway. Seven days is plenty of time for me to recover and be rearing to go.” Scarlet avoided meeting her Gran’s eyes. “But whether they catch him in that time or not, I will go back to work.”
Rose gave a small smile. “I know you
too well to pretend not to understand. Besides, I’m sure they’ll catch him within the next couple of days.”
Scarlet inhaled a deep breath. “I agree, and if they don’t, I still have surveillance and Sylvia with me the entire time I’m at work. Plus, if Abbot and Costello can stand it, I have an escort home every night.”
Laughing as he put empty bowls on the tray, Joe said, “Pretty certain those two are still in business.”
Over chocolate mousse and whipped cream, the story of Gary drew more laughter than tears.
By the time they’d progressed to coffee, Andree’s name came up again.
Scarlet shook her head. “I should have taken his first harassment of me more seriously. Why was I so quick to dismiss him as just a young punk showing off to his girlfriend?”
Hands clasped around her coffee mug, Rose suggested, “Maybe because of the girlfriend.”
Scarlet thought for a moment. “You think I made light of it because I didn’t want to upset Sylvia?”
Joe waved his biscotti in the air. “You’ve mentioned how fond you are of Sylvia. I’m sure she felt bad enough about having brought that monster into the station. If you’d been completely traumatized by his initial actions, she’d probably have felt a hundred times worse.”
Scarlet narrowed her green eyes. “I’m not convinced you two aren’t just trying to justify my poor decision making. But, nonetheless, I’m totally on board with your rationale.”
Three generations stayed up until the wee hours, predicting what joys and drama the Christmas holiday would bring.
Awaking to the welcoming sound of Rose placing a cup of tea on the bedside table, Scarlet felt as if she’d slept the day away.
“It’s only ten,” Rose soothed, watching Scarlet make a mad grab for her phone. An hour later, sitting in the sunroom with Prudence curled up beside her, Scarlet’s motivation to start the trip to Aptos was sadly lacking.
Joe, presents stacked precariously in his arms, reentered the warmest room in the house. “Gifts from your Gran and me. Just some tokens for you, your Mom, Trent, Lisa, and the little rascals.”
Scarlet jumped up to help her overburdened father. “That’s lovely, and above and beyond, considering.”
Joe sat on the padded sofa opposite Scarlet. “I won’t lie and say I’m not a little bitter about your Mother’s determination to keep me in a job I’m hating, but I do understand how upset and lost she’s feeling.”
Smiling up at Rose, as she joined them with a plate full of freshly baked blueberry scones, Scarlet volunteered, “I’ve come to a conclusion, after many hours of Mending Men, there is no right time to leave a marriage. Some may argue, if a couple splits while the children are young then the children are less affected because it’s all they know. But, when I think about you and Mom doing that, I realize all the time us kids would have missed with you. Yes, we were aware you weren’t crazy in love, but you both managed to make our home a safe and loving one.”
Joe stood and placed a kiss on Scarlet’s cheek. “Thank you for that. I can’t tell you how good it feels to hear those words. The guilt I have for leaving is ridiculous and I truly never wanted to hurt your mother.”
Scarlet squeezed her father’s hand. “I think Mom is just feeling unsure of herself and her ability to find someone. She’s hurt and sadly, I believe she needs you to be hurting too.”
Pouring more hot water from a carafe into the teapot, Rose said, “My darling Scarlet, are you aware of how perfect your new job is?”
Almost choking on her first bite of scone, Scarlet enquired, “Mending Men?”
“Yes, your top forty show was fun and glamorous, but what you’re doing now has much more meat to it.”
Laughing at his daughter’s bemused expression, Joe added, “We do listen you know.”
Blushing, Scarlet asked, “You listen to Mending Men?”
Grinning widely, Joe said, “Of course we do, we’re very proud of you.”
“You’re helping these men,” Rose volunteered. “They’re getting an intelligent, unbiased, female perspective on their relationship problems.”
Giggling, Scarlet interjected, “But you must have heard that awful guy who gives his own sleazy advice. And what about the one who wants to replay every game and I can’t get a word in.”
Joe attempted to keep a straight face. “I tried the ATM receipt ploy at the Christmas party. Worked like a charm.”
Throwing a napkin at her father, Scarlet said, “I really struggle with the sports metaphors. It’s so hard to find ones that apply or heaven forbid, help these guys.”
Rose leaned back in her chair. “Who says you have to use them. I’ve heard you omit the sports theme a couple of times lately. I don’t recall hearing the guys complain.”
Scarlet bit her lower lip. “You do know my misuse of said metaphors is the reason surveillance guys are surrounding your house right now.”
Joe’s eyes softened. “I know deep down you know this, your words didn’t make that man kill anybody. He was a psychopath before he called into your show.”
Scarlet gave a half-smile. “Just bad luck to have a serial killer call in on my first day.”
Scarlet’s mind was so preoccupied, the drive to Aptos was completed with no real knowledge of how she got there.
Marilyn excitedly ushered her daughter into the living room. “Voila!”
Scarlet lowered her pig to the floor. “The place looks amazing Mom. You went to a lot of trouble.”
Marilyn drew in a deep breath. “I decided no matter how the rest of the family wanted to behave this year, you Prudence and I would have a wonderful festive holiday.”
Scarlet smiled broadly before walking towards the tall Christmas tree. Gently touching a shiny green needle, she asked, “Is it real?”
Marilyn chuckled. “Looks it, doesn’t it? It’s an expensive fake. It even came with a pine scent spritz thingy. I saved the star for you. Do you remember how you kids would argue over who placed it on top of the tree?”
Scarlet pulled a face. “Oh yes. Trent would run off and hide it. By the time it resurfaced, Violet and I had lost interest. Clever logic, now I think about it.”
With unmistakable resolve in her voice, Marilyn said, “Well, Trent won’t be doing it this year, will he?”
Scarlet chose the moment to exclaim delight at a Christmas village adorning eighty percent of the large coffee table.
Marilyn’s determination to be in the festive mood proved infectious. Scarlet suggested a serious amount of baking while listening to their favorite Christmas songs.
****
Having slept soundly in her childhood room, Scarlet awoke the following day to find her mother gone. A note on the kitchen counter explained Marilyn had nipped into Aptos for a few last-minute items. Scarlet used the time to wrap her gifts and place them around the tree.
Just as Scarlet tied the last bow, Marilyn swept into the house, arms piled high with bags and boxes.
Eyebrows raised, Scarlet enquired, “A few last-minute items?”
Marilyn placed the packages on the sofa. “I had the best time picking out some new clothes for my rather shabbily dressed daughter. Why you hide that figure of yours is beyond me.”
Scarlet looked at the mountain of bags and boxes. “Mom, that’s way too generous. I don’t need a ton of clothes. I’m on the radio, nobody sees me.”
Picking up Prudence before the little pig knocked over the contents of a large silver bag, Marilyn retorted, “Nonsense. You’re a celebrity; I had confirmation of it today, in Aptos.”
Before Scarlet had a chance to enquire how that was possible, they heard a loud rap on the front door.
Plumping her hair in the mirror above the mantle, Marilyn exclaimed, “Who on earth could that be?”
There, on the doorstep, looking suitably remorseful, stood Trent.
Marilyn, sporting a wide-eyed expression, returned to the living room, Trent following closely behind.
Glancing at the parcel covered
sofa, Trent, with all the drama of a Shakespearean thespian, fell into the one empty chair.
Running hands through light brown hair in need of a wash, Trent began, “I know you struggle with her, Mom.” Looking over at Scarlet who remained standing by the tree, Trent added, “And you have no time for her at all.”
Scarlet opened her mouth to protest, but Trent hurried on, “She’s different to us. Lisa doesn’t go with the popular notion that everything’s okay. We grew up believing if it feels right, then do it. Lisa doesn’t follow that way of thinking, and I respect her for it. Look at Violet. We’re all responsible for her living in a hippie sex camp. We should have reined her in, but we just stood by and let her run wild.”
When Trent finally paused to take a breath, Marilyn argued, “Now that’s not fair, Trent.”
Scarlet, not usually at a loss for words, continued to stand with her mouth open.
Nodding his head slowly at his mother, Trent continued, “I couldn’t let Christmas go by without coming to see you. I wanted to tell you in person how sorry I am we won’t be celebrating together.”
He turned to Scarlet. “I’m glad you’re here, and Mom won’t be alone.”
Scarlet gave her brother a smile she saved for people she didn’t know. “I have some gifts for you, I’ll be right back.”
Returning from her room, Scarlet found Trent pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. Marilyn, parcels all around her, sat perched rigidly on the edge of the couch.
“It’s so important to Lisa… and to me,” Trent added as an afterthought, “our children be raised knowing right from wrong, with real structure and purpose to their lives.”
Finding her voice, Scarlet said, “We get that Trent. You and Lisa have made it clear. What is it you want us to do, that we aren’t already doing?”
Evidently irritated, Trent scratched at his stubbly chin. “Be more on board with her values and ideas. Don’t defend Violet all the time. How many times does our sister need to leave this family before we leave her?”
Scarlet Oaks and the Serial Caller Page 17
