Time's Hostage: The dangers of love, loss, and lus (Time Series Book 1)

by Brenda Kuchinsky

  They heard the front door slam.

  “I feel bad. She’s suffering. But honestly, what a relief. She is too much for me to handle. When she was repressing everything, playing her games, being passive aggressive, I could hang in there. Barely. Now I’ve had it. And she refuses help,” Sophia said. “She showed up here last night in a blackout, loaded up on booze, Vicodin, and Ambien and holding a big butcher knife, looking for you. Or, more specifically, your balls,” Sophia said.

  “What a pair. I give up,” Barth said, shrugging his shoulders, glad to share reprehensible-behavior status with someone else. “You know what happened, Jack?” Barth asked, embarrassment in his voice.

  “Yes,” Jack said.

  “I’m just happy to be away from, Keith,” Barth said.

  “I’m afraid, from the sounds of it, he’ll be around all too soon,” Jack warned. “This guy is harassing you. I suggest you get a restraining order. This is aggravated stalking, which is a third-degree felony, not just a misdemeanor like stalking.” Jack changed the subject. “Let me make us all omelets. Here, Barth, have some coffee. You look beat. You need some tender-loving care. I don’t know if Sophia is up for that yet,” Jack said, glancing at Sophia. “Anyway, we need to talk this out. Once we’re eating, tell me all about the stalking. Then we can develop a plan of action.”

  “See why I love this guy?” Sophia said to Barth. “He’s a rock, and he cooks, too.”

  “He is pretty wonderful. I feel better already. And yes, I do need food,” Barth said.

  Once they were settled around the marble table with their food, Barth filled Jack in on what he had already told Sophia. Then he proceeded to give them the details on the notes Keith had been slipping under the door.

  “Like I told Sophia, the first note printed in red crayon was redrum, which I remembered from the movie The Shining, ‘murder’ spelled backward. That seems threatening, doesn’t it?” Barth asked. “I felt threatened anyway. Then a second note read crisscross, which, for the life of me, I could not decipher. I Googled it and got the definition, three movies, and a band. The band was spelled with Ks. None of the references made any sense to me,” Barth said.

  “Shit.” Sophia let out a long, low moan.

  “What?” Barth asked.

  “I know exactly what that means. I guess it’s been simmering on my mental back burner since you mentioned it over the phone,” Sophia said, shaking her head in astonishment. “This guy is inventive. Murderously inventive. He really lives in a fantasy world,” she said.

  “Come on, Sophia. Spill. What are you talking about?” Barth asked, frustration rising in his tone.

  “You know what a Hitchcock movie buff I am. Well, that’s a signature phrase from Strangers on a Train, one of my favorite Hitch films,” Sophia enthused, forgetting Barth’s distress for a moment.

  “But what does it mean? What does it mean?” Barth whined.

  “Sorry. It’s not good. I might be in danger. Amanda might also be in danger,” she surmised, frown lines creasing her forehead as she started mauling her left ear.

  “Okay, Sophia. Stop torturing the man. What the hell are you talking about?” Jack asked.

  “The plot revolves around a tennis star meeting a psychopath, played brilliantly by Robert Walker, on a train. The tennis guy makes the mistake of confiding in him about his slutty wife, who won’t let him go. Bruno, the smooth-talking psycho, who seems gay and is dominated by his mother, wants to be rid of his pesky father, who won’t let him spend his money, I think. But really, he just wants to be with Mummy. Very Oedipal. So he decides they should each kill the other person’s problem person. And he’s more than a bit delusional, so he thinks the tennis star has gone for it, and he quickly proceeds to seek out and strangle the slutty wife. It’s a great murder scene. Then, he expects Farley Granger, who plays the tennis star, to kill his father in return. Guess what he calls the arrangement?” Sophia leaned forward dramatically.

  “Crisscross!” Barth and Jack answered in unison.

  “Crisscross, crisscross. Bruno says it a lot,” Sophia said.

  “Now you’re surmising that his note indicates that Keith expects Barth to kill Amanda while he kills you so they can live happily ever after?” Jack asked.

  “Precisely,” Sophia said.

  “But that makes no sense. We’re not strangers. There are connections among all four of us. And he never brought it up. Just left the creepy note under the door,” Barth protested.

  “You want logic from a delusional love-sick puppy who started stalking you?” Sophia asked. “Bruno’s logic was faulty. Keith’s is just faultier. No problem for the delusional. They want what they want,” Sophia said.

  The slight relief that Barth had been exhibiting since he had returned home vanished. “What do we do now?” he wailed.

  “I like the ‘we’ this has evolved into. You fuck up, and now I’m in deep shit too,” Sophia couldn’t help reproaching Barth.

  “I’m sorry. How many times can I say it?”

  “Recriminations aren’t going to help the situation,” Jack said.

  “You’re right. It just came out. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Sophia said.

  “This is most definitely aggravated stalking. We need to get restraining orders for both of you, just in case. I’ll help you. In the meantime, you probably have a day or two’s respite. Let’s enjoy our UnChristmas. We’re meeting Lili and Chanel at the Cinematheque at four to see La Bonne Année,” Jack told Barth, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Who the hell is Chanel? UnChristmas? Is everything getting away from me?” Barth asked.

  “Chanel is Lili’s fiancée. They’re getting married right after the New Year and moving to Rouen,” Sophia said. “We had an UnChristmas Eve last night. The four of us. In honor of Ma, who loved Christmas, but couldn’t celebrate it. Everything is going to be okay. Take a deep breath, Barth,” Sophia said. “Chanel is lovely in every way, by the by,” she added.

  “I didn’t even know Lili was gay, and now she’s getting married to a woman,” Barth said.

  “You missed out on a lot in a few days,” Sophia said, forcing Dirk out of her mind since he had popped right into her thoughts the moment she said that. “Now do you want to come with us to the film or just rest here? We’ll be back right after, order Chinese, and watch the American remake of the film.”

  “I think I’ll rest and meet Chanel when you all return,” Barth said. “And thanks, you two. Don’t think I don’t appreciate this,” he said before trudging up the stairs. “Wake me when you get back.”

  Barth just took off his clothes and got into bed in his underwear. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep. Despite new fears raised by Sophia’s information, he could not keep his eyes open. Too many sleepless nights had defeated him.

  CHAPTER 23

  Lili and Chanel, looking like separated Siamese twins in matching red dresses and tiny intricate black hats that Lili had probably whipped up, were already waiting for them at the cinema when Jack and Sophia arrived.

  “Let’s get going,” Lili urged. “We don’t want to miss the beginning. One of my pet peeves.”

  There were hugs and kisses all around, and they settled in to watch the film. The theater was packed. They were lucky to get four seats together.

  All the Jews are here, Sophia thought. They’re feeling left out.

  Everybody seemed to thoroughly enjoy the film, a jewelry heist film set in Cannes and directed by Claude Lelouch, that prolific talent.

  Chanel suggested they go for coffee to discuss it since it was Christmas and they had all the time in the world.

  “Barth is back unexpectedly early. You can meet him, Chanel,” Sophia announced once they were settled at a Starbucks.

  “Why didn’t he come along for the fun?” Chanel asked.

  “He’s exhausted. A student who developed a crush on him was stalking him in Key West. He cut short his visit with his friends. He’s resting back at the house,
” she said, looking pointedly at Jack.

  “What is going on? Do we know the student?” Lili asked, concern in her voice.

  “As a matter of fact, it’s Keith,” Sophia said.

  “I knew it. I knew that guy was trouble. Amanda’s wunderkind. I never could stand that guy. I always said there was something wrong with him,” Lili said.

  “Let’s put it to rest for now. I don’t want to ruin our time together. You two will be gone all too soon. Jack volunteered to help,” Sophia said.

  “Let’s talk film criticism,” Chanel said.

  So they drank coffee and had a grand time talking film.

  “I wish I had met you earlier, Chanel. We would have had a ball together,” Sophia said.

  “Look on the bright side, Ma. You both hit it off. You could have hated each other. Now you’ll come visit us in Rouen,” Lili said.

  “I know you’re right. But I wish I could see you two get married,” Sophia lamented.

  “I just had a great idea. We’ll have a party to celebrate when you come to visit,” Lili said, lighting up at the thought of a celebration with Sophia there.

  “Barth can come too,” Chanel said.

  “Good thinking, Lili. You’re brilliant. Magnifique,” Chanel said, kissing Lili eagerly on the lips.

  “Sounds wonderful. I don’t know about Barth. Maybe Jack will want to come. You said you might swing some time off,” Sophia said.

  “I don’t want to intrude. But it’s definitely something to think about,” Jack said.

  “No intrusion and you know it,” Sophia said.

  “We better head back. I need to call Sum Yum Gai for our Chinese delivery, and we have another movie to watch,” Sophia said.

  “If the crowd at the cinema is any indication, Sum Yum Gai, like every Chinese restaurant on the beach, will be in great demand. Jewish minds think alike on Christmas Day. Chinese and a movie, a Jewish Christmas tradition.”

  They strolled back to the house, enjoying the remarkable winter weather and the relative quiet of Christmas day.

  While they were out and Barth slept, relieved of the burden of stalker vigilance, a figure, all too familiar to Barth, bounded up the front stairs, his distinctive blond spiral curls bobbing up and down. Looking every bit as if he belonged there, he confidently slipped an envelope under the door, looked at the front door, as if expecting Barth to appear magically, and then, when no one came to the door, turned and bounced down the steps, gaily whistling “The Candy Man.”

  When the four musketeers arrived at the door, they were so busy chatting and laughing, Sophia almost overlooked the envelope inside the door. Once she registered its existence, she knew immediately it was another message from Keith. She slipped it into her pocket to read when she was alone or with Barth.

  “Help yourselves to drinks. I’m going to put in our food order. Does everyone trust me to order again?” Sophia asked.

  “Yes” came a chorus of three.

  “I’m going to wake Barth too,” Sophia added.

  As she climbed the stairs, she was weighing the pros and cons of reading the note alone and giving Barth some respite or just handing it to him. Then the resentment kicked in, and she decided it was his problem. She knew it had become her problem too, but she rejected her initial instinct of sharing the burden. Let him try to clean up his mess and then come to her.

  After she had called in the food order, making sure to include plenty of meat and chicken dishes as well as lots of good veggie selections, she decided to wake Barth and hand him the unopened note.

  When she saw him sleeping so peacefully, his seraphic face framed by a blond halo, like a cherub in a Raphael painting, her heart melted like hot puddling candle wax.

  I do miss him, even though I’m whoring around with Dirk, she thought, castigating herself as the guilt seeped into her bones and hair and eyes, invading her sensibility to the very marrow. Now that he was back in the flesh, some of her righteous indignation dissipated to be replaced by harrowing guilt. He could be such a pleasure-seeking child. Why did she suddenly start acting like a lust-obsessed harridan, dropping her panties the first chance she got and embracing sex for sex’s sake? She never did this with Morton, that louche Lothario, who had surpassed Barth in the sexually naughty department a thousand fold. But once Morton was gone, she did go wild for a while.

  She hated to wake Barth, but he probably needed to know as soon as possible that there was no respite from Keith, and she wanted him to have some quality time with Lili and Chanel.

  “Barth, Barth, wake up,” she urged, nudging his shoulder. There was no response. “Barth,” she breathed in his ear, hoping her warm breath would wake her recalcitrant spouse. It didn’t work. “Barth,” she said loudly, shaking the unresponsive body.

  Finally he stirred, roused out of a deep sleep, the first peaceful sleep he had had since this whole affair with Keith began.

  “I feel so much better,” he said, stretching luxuriously, his hair tumbling over his forehead.

  “Well, don’t get too complacent,” Sophia said, unable to resist indulging in a bit of schadenfreude. “Keith left you another missive. I found it when we got home. I haven’t looked at it or anything.”

  “Oh, shit. I don’t believe that brat is for real. He got on my trail immediately,” Barth moaned.

  “Stalkers can be incredibly persistent. Remember John Hinckley?” Sophia asked “Anyway, get dressed. You’ll meet Chanel. I ordered from Sum Yum Gai.”

  “Just stay here with me while I read the note,” Barth pleaded, looking demoralized.

  “Okay,” Sophia conceded. She was on an emotional roller coaster when it came to Barth these days. She swooped from resentment to sympathy to satisfaction that he was being punished.

  Barth opened the envelope with trembling fingers. Keith had scrawled Crisscross three times, all in that infantile red crayon. Underneath that, he had written a less obscure message with a ballpoint pen: “Now that we’re back in town, meet me at the OK Corral (my Starbucks) on Friday at High Noon, holstered up and ready to make a plan.”

  “I’m not meeting that raving lunatic anywhere,” Barth said, crumpling up the note and tossing it into the wastebasket in the bathroom. “I’ll be down soon,” he called to Sophia from the bathroom.

  As Sophia made her way downstairs, she realized this was not going to end well. Something catastrophic was bound to happen. What good would restraining orders do in the face of obsessive insanity?

  She pasted a smile on her face before she entered the living room. “Anyone need anything?” she asked. “Barth will be down soon.”

  “Sit down,” Jack said. “Let me get you a drink.”

  “Thanks, Jack. There’s an opened red on the counter. I’ll have a glass of that even though it doesn’t exactly go with Chinese food,” Sophia said.

  “I thought it was anything goes these days. Red wine with salmon, white with steak, whatever your heart desires,” Jack said.

  “You’re right. I tend to drink reds 90 percent of the time. Somehow I can’t imagine someone having white with steak. But what do I know? I don’t even eat steak,” Sophia said.

  The two lovebirds made room for Sophia between them and beckoned her over. She was gratified and hugged them both to her sides before taking Jack’s proffered wine.

  “Just think, Ma, if you weren’t such a great detective, we probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now,” Lili said. “I bet she could give you a run for your money, Jack.”

  “I know she can. That’s why I’m always nagging her to consult with me. But she keeps putting me off,” he said.

  “I have my own mental detective work with my patients. That is consuming,” Sophia said.

  “I can attest to that. It does consume her,” Barth said as he came into the living room, looking like a latter day Picasso in a long-sleeved navy polo shirt with horizontal white stripes, immaculate navy sweats, which somehow looked dressier than sweats, and a jaunty red bandanna loosely tied around h
is neck. His blond locks had been styled and gelled to look carefree, and he had moisturized his face. He wore brown-leather European-style backless sandals with two bands of leather crisscrossed on top.

  “You look great,” Sophia said. She couldn’t help adding, “I see you’re wearing crisscross sandals.”

  “Thank you,” he said, quickly recovering from her flinch-inducing remark.

  “Those sandals are cool,” Lili said innocently, jumping up to embrace him. “I hear you know all about Chanel and me. Now you have to meet my darling fiancée.”

  Chanel leaped up to follow suit and embrace Barth.

  “Chanel, meet my dear Barth. He’s the best stepfather a girl could have. Well, technically I was a woman by the time he came around. But a wonderful, dear dad he is,” she said.

  “You’re making me blush. You know how I feel about you, and I’m pleased to welcome Chanel into our little family,” he said, giving Chanel a hug. “You two are like two peas in a pod. You look like you are made for each other,” Barth said.

  Lili and Sophia resumed their seats on either side of Sophia, and Barth squeezed in next to Lili to complete the cozy family scene.

  “Sophia told me you’re marrying in New York next week and moving to Rouen. I’m sorry we’ll miss the wedding,” he said.

  “You won’t miss a thing. We’re planning a big celebration in Rouen in the spring with you, Ma, and Jack in attendance. The New York thing is just a court-house formality, and it’s also a chance for us to see some of our old Parsons friends,” Lili said.

  The doorbell chimed. “That must be the food,” Sophia said.

  “Let me help you,” Jack said.

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Sophia assured him. “Why don’t you get Barth a drink instead?”

  Sophia set up on her pride and joy, a large ebony printer’s buffet table from Pottery Barn. With its many drawers and glass-fronted cupboards, it delighted her. The food gave off amazing aromas, luring everyone into the dining room. There were plenty of choices in food and wine.

  When everyone was seated around the table and had properly enthused about the food, the conversation again centered on Lili and Chanel, who were happy to take center stage and talk about themselves. Parsons New York and Parsons Paris, how they met (a modified, censored version), Chanel’s background, their business plans, and their hopes and dreams were all fair game.