Eyes of a Child

by Richard North Patterson

  At the center of page seven was a news photo of Chris and Terri emerging from the Carelli hearing, and next to that, a color picture of Richie holding Elena. Elena looked bewildered; Richie’s expression was pained and resolute, the abandoned and embattled father. The photo caption read: ‘Ricardo Arias raises six-year-old Elena by himself. “She’s all I have now,” Richie says. “We’re barely making it.”’

  ‘What’s so pathetic,’ Chris said quietly, ‘is that all he has to offer is lies and self-pity, and all it’s worth to him is ten thousand dollars. It’s like something from Queen for a Day.’

  Terri felt a rush of shame. She forced herself to keep on reading. The writing was florid but effective: the story of a stay-at-home father, abandoned by his wife for her rich and powerful boss. ‘We had so much in common,’ the article quoted Richie. ‘We were both Hispanic and poor, working together for a better life. Our first years were so happy with Elena, and I thought our marriage was strong. Then Terri became caught up in another world. His world. One day she just demanded a divorce and then ran away to be with him.’ Terri did not know what made her angrier: the grotesque portrait that Richie had sold them, or the way the Inquisitor referred to the ‘alleged’ affair to prevent Christopher Paget from suing.

  ‘It seems,’ Chris said in a flat voice, ‘that there’s a price for everything we do.’

  Terri shook her head. ‘Has anyone else run this drivel?’

  ‘Not yet. But there’s not a chance in hell that James Colt won’t find out about it. And even without his encouragement, journalists love this sort of thing – in some newspaper, somewhere, some reporter with the ethics of a slug is already looking for a libel-proof way to print this. Something like: “Political insiders are privately concerned that the Inquisitor has placed a cloud over Paget’s embryonic campaign.” Sound about right?’

  It was as if he were discussing a client. Terri kept herself from apologizing for Richie: it was pointless and would sound too pitiful. ‘I could sue him,’ she said. ‘I’m not a public figure. It’s easier for me to bring a lawsuit.’

  ‘Not as long as he’s got Elena. It can’t seem like you’re seeking custody to spite him.’ When he looked up at last, his expression held sympathy. ‘If it weren’t for my flirtation with politics, Richie would rate no intrest at all.’

  Terri looked away. ‘I can’t believe he’s done this.’

  She knew that it was the wrong thing to say even before she saw the look in Chris’s eyes. But all he said, very quietly, was ‘Really?’

  She made herself gaze back at him. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Play by the rules of course.’ Suppressed anger crept into his voice. ‘Within the rules, I’ve already done what I can. Our friend Slocum’s publisher agrees with me that this isn’t news – at least for now. If all this turns out to be is an Inquisitor story, it’ll probably go away.

  ‘But you don’t think it will.’

  He stood and walked to the window. ‘That may depend,’ he finally answered, ‘on what else Ricardo feeds them. Or what the media, or perhaps someone like Colt, dig up on their own.’

  Terri hesitated. ‘Carlo, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’ He turned to her, eyes hard now. ‘It’s time for me to have a talk with Richie.’

  Terri felt her nerves tingle. ‘You can’t, Chris. Not yet. It will only make things worse.’

  ‘Carlo’s my son, damn it.’ Suddenly Chris’s anger burst into the open. ‘This little weasel thinks he’s immune, Terri. We sit here like two corporate lawyers, discussing our legal remedies, while he distorts our lives and victimizes my son. How he must laugh.’

  Terri forced herself to be calm. ‘Richie and I are contesting custody. Whatever he’s done to Carlo, or you, you’re not in court with him. I don’t want Richie telling Scatena that you tried to prevent him from learning the “truth” about Carlo and Elena. And that’s exactly what he’ll do.’

  Chris stared at her, and then his voice turned cool. ‘He has a certain genius, doesn’t he. He’s put us on opposite sides: anything I can do to protect Carlo may hurt Elena. And as long as he can keep on claiming that Carlo abused her, no one can touch him. Especially me.’

  It seemed so long ago, Terri thought sadly, that Chris had dismissed Richie as a nuisance and a failure. Perhaps what was most painful was that Richie had become real to Chris: in his complete lack of scruples, the absence of anything to lose, Richie was beyond the weapons a normal man would use. ‘I’m so sorry about him,’ Terri said finally. ‘But if he keeps on doing stuff like this, he’s going to reveal who he really is. I’ll try to tell him that.’

  Chris’s shrug was dismissive. ‘Do whatever you like. I’m sure he’ll listen.’

  There was no point in saying more to him, Terri realized – not now. She went back to her office and picked up the phone.

  ‘Richie Arias,’ he answered in a cheery voice.

  ‘I’ve read the article,’ Terri said calmly.

  ‘Terri?’ His tone was still upbeat. ‘What did you think?’

  ‘That it captured you perfectly,’ Her own voice remained level. ‘In a way I’m glad you did it. You’re usually better at concealing what you are.’

  ‘Oh. And what is that?’

  It was stange, Terri realized. Richie was trying to sound derisive, but part of him was insecure without her. ‘I won’t bother to tell you,’ she answered. ‘It’s much better if you’re still in the dark about how normal people think.’ She kept her voice flat. ‘You’re tone-deaf, Richie. You can read the notes, but you can’t hear the music.’

  ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  ‘I’ll give you one example.’ Terri paused, speaking slowly and succinctly. ‘If you drag Carlo Paget into the newspapers, you’ll be publicly exploiting a teenage boy and your six-year-old daughter. And no competent psychologist can miss the meaning of that.’

  ‘Look, I’m out of money.’ His voice rose. ‘You think I wanted to embarrass myself? You and your boyfriend made me.’

  ‘No, we didn’t. As I told you once, you’re a self-made man. It’s not much to show for the only work you’ve ever done.’

  There was a tense silence. ‘And now you’ve found the perfect lover, haven’t you. The one man who could help you get out of this terrible marriage.’ Richie’s voice grew quiet. ‘Tell me, Terri, what makes you think that he’ll choose you over the Senate? You know, when things get really hard for him?’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Terri snapped. Said it without thinking, as Richie had known she would.

  He laughed softly and hung up.

  Chapter 14

  Rosa had sat down on the couch; it was as if the weight of what she felt required this. ‘You’re going to Italy,’ she repeated to Terri. ‘With Chris, because he asked you to go. Eight months after leaving Richie.’

  Her tone was flat. Rosa did not say the rest: that Chris’s son stood accused of molesting Tern’s daughter. That Terri was in the midst of a custody fight. That Richie would try to punish her.

  ‘The evaluation doesn’t start for almost a month.’ Terri kept her voice calm. ‘Chris and I need this time, Mom. Somewhere away from the office and Richie’s constant presence, where we can think through whether there’s any way to make this work.’

  Rosa closed her eyes; it was moments before they opened and she spoke again. ‘For months,’ she began quietly, ‘I’ve said nothing to you. The courts have taken away your daughter. The man who you claim loves you is a millstone. The child I love is a shell. And still I’ve said nothing.’

  Terri folded her arms. ‘What is it you’d like to say?’

  ‘That your decisions have been wrong, Teresa. Every one of them. Beginning with Christopher Paget.’ Her eyes were hard now. ‘And that Elena has paid the price.’

  ‘Chris isn’t responsible. I am.’

  ‘Oh? And then why are we talking about Chris yet again, and not Elena? This is a precious child, Terri. It hurts me even to look at her
now.’ Her voice softened. ‘I understand that you and Chris are not adulterers, at least in the sense that Richie means it. But the existense of this man has colored every decision, and tainted every issue, surrounding Elena’s welfare.’ She paused, stressing each word. ‘Including your decision to leave Ricardo Arias.’

  Terri shook her head. ‘I left because of Elena.’

  ‘Did you?’ Her mother’s smile was filled with bitter irony. ‘And now Richie has Elena.’

  ‘I’m trying to change that, Mama.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you can, Teresa, Not this way.’ She leaned forward. ‘Richie is a given. Chris is not, and he is much too costly. Please, ask him to step aside.’

  ‘Just like that.’ Terri’s voice rose. ‘Tell me, Mom, do you know what it’s like to want someone – I mean really want them? Or even just to laugh with someone?’

  Rosa folded her hands. ‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘Nor do I know what it is to lose a child. Your laughter has come at a price.’

  Once more, Terri felt the guilt of all that had happened. ‘That’s why we’re going to Italy – to talk all these things through and to see if there’s any future for us that is good for our children. Like the adults we happen to be.’ Terri heard the edge in her voice. ‘You’d be surprised how well that works – talking.’

  Her mother’s face remained impassive. ‘Are you so certain, Teresa, that Carlo didn’t molest your daughter?’

  In the silence that followed, Terri held her gaze. ‘I can’t swear to it,’ she said finally. ‘But I don’t believe he’s capable of that. The evaluator will try to find out.’

  ‘The evaluator.’ Rosa’s voice was tinged with scorn. ‘Is that like the judge? Someone to help you?’

  Terri felt her throat tighten. ‘It’s different. This person is trained to deal with children.’

  ‘And so, naturally, you now will place your hopes in her.’ Rosa’s face was still a mask; only her eyes showed the anguish behind it. ‘To abuse a child is a terrible thing. Whatever else you blame me for, it is something that I never would have let happen to you. Or to any child of mine.’

  For an instant, in what Rosa did not say, Terri felt the presence of her father. ‘What makes you think,’ Terri answered, ‘that you and I are so different.’

  As at other times, Terri’s tacit reference to her father drew from Rosa a veiled look of scrutiny. But as always, her mother did not mention Ramon Peralta.

  ‘I imagine,’ Rosa said in a tired voice, ‘that you’ve already told Ricardo.’

  ‘Yes.’ Richie had hardly reacted: he had simply taken the dates down, asking questions to be sure he had them right. ‘If there’s an emergency, Richie has to know where I am. I would never leave, Mama, if Elena were with me for more than the weekends. But she isn’t. If you take Elena on the weekends I’ll be gone, it’ll be good for both of you.’

  Rosa fell silent, defeated. It was only then that Terri saw the sheen of tears that her mother would not permit to fall.

  Terri kissed her, the offering of peace, and left.

  It was dark, a little past ten. The inside stairs to her apartment were quiet, empty. Climbing them, Terri promised herself a good night’s sleep.

  The door was ajar.

  Terri gazed at it, stepping back for a moment. Then, slowly, she pushed it open and peered into her living room.

  She saw nothing. The lights were turned out; Terri sensed the room was as she had left it.

  She stepped forward, head turning to each side. Still nothing. And then, softly, someone shut the door behind her.

  Terri turned, a scream caught in her throat. In front of her door stood the shadow of a man.

  ‘Don’t.’ Her voice trembled. ‘Please.’

  The shadow moved toward her. In the pale glow from the street, she saw one arm reach out.

  A light switched on. Ricardo Arias stood by her floor lamp, grinning at her.

  ‘What’s wrong, Ter? You used to like a little excitement.’

  Her heart was pounding. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘You seem jumpy tonight.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Waiting for your boyfriend? That would be fun.’

  She fought to control her voice. ‘How did you get in?’

  ‘Remember when I borrowed your car to drive Elena, when mine was in the shop?’ He grinned again, flipping Terri a set of keys. ‘You shouldn’t keep your extras in the glove compartment, Terri. Someone might steal them.’

  Terri looked down. Her keys lay on the floor: to her apartment, to her mother’s home. To Chris’s house.

  ‘You scum,’ she said softly.

  ‘That’s really not fair. Actually, I came here to effect personal service of an important set of legal pleadings. Regarding Elena. You remember her, don’t you? Our daughter?’

  Beside her on the carpet, Terri saw, was a flat sealed envelope. ‘Pick it up,’ Richie told her.

  There was something in his voice, an edge of anxiety beneath the air of confidence. ‘Do it yourself,’ she snapped. ‘I’m sick of picking up after you.’

  Richie stared at her. Then he bent to retrieve the envelope, and placed it in her hand. ‘I’m not leaving,’ he said. ‘Not until you’ve read this.’

  What, Terri wondered, was so important to him? She turned away, sat in a chair. ‘If it means that much,’ she said, and pulled back the clasp on the envelope.

  Inside were a set of pleadings, marked ‘Filed under seal.’ The caption read: ‘Petitioner’s Motion for Preliminary Injunction.’ The relief requested was simple: that respondent Teresa Peralta cease all contact between her daughter, Elena, and her lover Christopher Paget. And his son Carlo.

  Terri gazed down at the papers. The petitioner, Ricardo Arias, wanted the court to issue an injunction: restraining respondent from exposing their daughter ‘to the unstable and immoral sexual patterns that pervade the Paget household.’

  She could not help but read the rest.

  Richie’s first ground was a reprise of the Inquisitor article: Christopher Paget had destroyed Richie’s marriage and left Elena without a family. But the words ‘Carlo Paget’ stopped her.

  Terri looked up at Richie in disbelief. ‘So you’re bringing Carlo into this,’ she said quietly. ‘You just can’t help yourself, right?’

  ‘I’m protecting Elena.’ Richie folded his arms. ‘I thought it was time that Judge Scatena knew the facts.’

  ‘You’d drag them both into a courtroom.’ Her voice filled with anger. ‘Elena too.’

  ‘Only if you make me.’ He assumed a stiff, self-righteous posture. ‘You’ll notice that I’ve been very responsible – everything filed under seal. So none of this becomes public unless you force me to a hearing.’ He smiled briefly. ‘Not even the press has to know.’

  Will they print this? she would ask Chris. It may depend, Chris would answer, on what else they come up with.

  ‘I see the light dawning, Terri.’ Richie draped an arm around her. ‘Just think what a truly vindictive person would do with this – someone in politics, for example. Something far more painful than interrupting a vacation.’

  Terri stared at him. ‘The hearing date. You scheduled it for when we’d be in Italy.’

  ‘In Portifino, according for your itinerary. You know, I’ve never been there.’ He paused, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. ‘In light of our daughter’s crisis, I had to move quickly. But you could always ask Judge Scatena to postpone the hearing. Something about being on the Italian Riviera with your boss.’

  Deliberately, Terri took his arm off her shoulder. ‘Tell me what you want. Tell me, and then get the fuck out of here.’

  Richie’s eyes glinted. ‘Call off the evaluation, and I’ll call off the hearing. I want permanent custody, the support I’ve asked for, and fifty thousand dollars.’ His voice flattened. ‘It’s more money than I asked for the last time. But I bet you can figure out somewhere to get it. Now.’

  She stared at him. ‘And if I don�
��t?’

  ‘We go to a hearing.’ He nodded toward the papers in her hand. ‘And those become public documents. Open to anyone.’ He paused, speaking more softly. ‘Politics is such a dirty business, Terri.’

  Terri’s telephone rang.

  ‘That should be your boyfriend,’ Richie said cheerfully. ‘He must have read his courtesy copy.’

  Turning, Terri answered the telephone.

  ‘So Colt found Richie,’ Chris said. ‘I suppose it was only a matter of time.’

  ‘He did not sound himself. ‘You found the papers,’ Terri said.

  ‘Carlo did. I need to see you.’

  She glanced over at Richie. ‘Oh, I’m leaving,’ he told her. ‘I know you lovers need time to talk.’

  ‘All right,’ Terri said to Chris. As she hung up, Richie kissed her on the forehead and vanished.

  Terri locked the door behind him and sat down again.

  She could not seem to hold a thought. There were too many: making love with Chris; the look on Rosa’s face; Richie’s smile of pleasure; Carlo.

  Elena, stretching out in Chris’s bathtub.

  There was a knock on the door. Terri went to open it. Standing in the doorway, Chris tilted his head sideways, searching her face. He looked tired.

  ‘Are you coming in?’ she asked.

  He stepped inside. She closed the door, turning to him with her hand still on the knob. He looked, Terri thought, completely miserable. But his eyes did not leave her face.

  ‘Most couples have bad moments,’ he said at last. ‘But they don’t have them in public, with their children at risk. Unless one of them runs for office. I couldn’t be sorrier, Terri. For both of them. And for you.’

  Watching him Terri could see the price he might pay for Richie: the Senate race, the painful talk with Carlo. But right now, what seemed to matter most to him was how she felt.

  ‘Unless I give him Elena and money,’ she said wearily, ‘she’ll go through a hearing. You and Carlo will be spread all across the papers. The Senate will be history.’

  ‘And if you do give Richie Elena, we’d be history.’ Chris gazed at her. ‘One way or the other, he means this to end us. Just as, I suspect, Colt means it to end me.’