"I'm here, Mom."
"Good. I was hoping you'd reconsider," she said, her voice coming closer. "Those women were just trying to hold you back. That's why your father tried with the money first..."
Chad's face turned to a look of horror as she rounded the doorway to the kitchen.
"Oh," she said, blinking. "I didn't know you had company."
"She's just leaving," he said.
"I am," I said. "But what did you mean about those women?"
"Just..."
As she spoke, there was another knock on the door, and it opened.
"Chad," his father bellowed.
Mrs. Berman turned pale. "Oh, goodness," she murmured, and her hand leaped to her mouth.
It was time for me to leave, I decided.
"Well, I've got to run," I announced. "Thanks for the water."
"But you can't go," his mother said, her eyes wide; for all her expensive clothing and makeup, she reminded me of a startled rabbit.
"Why not?" Chad asked, looking agitated. "Look, Mom..."
"Why is she here?" Chad's father asked as he strode into the kitchen.
"Your son gave me a glass of water," I said, feeling adrenaline pulse through me. What had I gotten myself in to? "I'm just on my way out. Good to see you," I said.
"Oh, Charles," Chad's mother said. I had no idea what her name was, I realized. "I think I made a mistake."
"Again?" he asked. "What is it this time, Julia?"
"She heard me," she said in almost a whisper, wincing as she spoke.
"Heard you say what?" he asked in a menacing tone that made my skin crawl. Disguised under the light Polo shirt, neatly pressed khakis, and Docksiders, I saw now, was a man who seethed with anger.
"It's nothing, Dad," Chad said, stepping toward his mother. "Everything's fine."
But Chad's father's eyes never swayed from his wife's. "Heard you say what?" he repeated in a tone that made my mouth dry up and my heart rate double. Chad's mother cringed, putting up her hands over her head, and I suddenly wondered if her foundation might be disguising something other than aging skin.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "She heard... she heard me say something about those women... and money."
"Jesus. You are such a moron," he said. "Man. Now I know where this one here gets it from." He shot a contemptuous glance at his son, whose face burned, as he towered over his wife. He raised his hand as if to hit her, then spotted me and smoothed down his hair instead. "All I do is try to save you from mistakes," he said, turning to Chad. "I give you opportunities you never could have earned for yourself, and then you squander them and shame me. You must take after your mother," he said, sending a contemptuous glance at Julia, who flinched.
"Dad..."
Charles ignored him. "I try to help you establish yourself. Try to keep you from getting mixed up with some gold-digging dingbat. Save you from making the mistakes I made. And what do you do?” He clenched his fist. "You spit in my face."
This was a family conversation I had no desire to be privy to. I glanced around, looking for a way out, but Charles was standing between me and the only exit I knew of. Julia looked absolutely terrified. So did Chad, but there was a streak of defiance I admired. I'd felt almost disdainful of Chad and his apparently easy life, but I now saw him with fresh eyes. Chad's life wasn't exactly the bed of roses I'd imagined. Or if it was, it came with some rather nasty thorns.
Not just nasty, I thought as I looked at Charles Berman, whose face was contorted with anger to the point where he was almost unrecognizable.
I started to edge away from the soapstone island in the direction of the front door, hoping Charles was so focused on his family that he wouldn't notice.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t how it worked out.
"Where do you think you're going?" he spat at me.
"I just thought I'd let myself out," I said quietly.
"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to the barstool I'd vacated. I decided that would be the best course of action, at least for now, and found myself wishing I'd told Catherine I was coming to visit Chad.
"Now," Charles said, addressing his wife and son again, in a silky-smooth, condescending tone that could have curdled milk. "You've gotten us into trouble yet again. How do you propose we get ourselves out of it?"
"I don't know what you mean," Chad said.
"She knows about the money I gave that slutty girlfriend of yours to keep her mouth shut and go away," Charles said in a harsh tone. "And unless she's a total idiot, she's probably putting a few other things together in her head right now."
"Really," I said, starting to get up again. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about. I shouldn't be here."
"Sit," he barked again.
I sat, but as he turned back to face his wife and son, I reached in my pocket for my phone. I had slid it out of my pocket and had started texting John when a fist came down on the counter next to me. I jumped, and the phone skittered out of my hand and across the floor.
Chad's father snatched it off the floor and read my text out loud. "'At blue house by the lighthouse. In trouble, Chad's....'"
"Give me back my phone, please," I said.
"Give you back your phone?" He let out a derisive snort. "You don't know what trouble is. Who else knows you're here?"
"Catherine," I lied. "My mother-in-law."
"If she knows, then why are you telling this John guy—" he glanced down at my phone again "—he's the deputy. Your husband, right? Anyway, why are you having to tell him where you are?"
The words tumbled out of my mouth too fast. "I don't know if he's talked with Catherine yet."
"And you think they're going to come to save you." He put my phone in the back pocket of his khakis, and my stomach sank. "We're done here," he said in a cold voice.
"That's fine," I said, trying not to sound as if my blood was running cold. "If you just give me back my phone, I'll go."
"Give you back your phone," he said. "So you can go run off to your husband and tell him to reopen the investigation? I don't think so."
"They've already arrested someone," I reminded him.
He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You're a liability now."
"Charles," Julia said in a wobbly voice, looking pale. "I don't think this is a good idea."
"Shut up," he said in a flat voice, without turning around.
"Dad," Chad said. "She's right. This has gone too far."
Charles turned to his son, his jaw set, his face dangerously red. "This is all your doing. Everything that's happened is because of you. It's all been for you. Are you really willing to throw everything away after all I've done for you?"
"Dad... I never asked for..."
"No," Charles spat. "Of course not. You just expected it. And now that it's getting uncomfortable, you're going to wuss out. I should have known."
"I didn't want any of this!" Chad protested.
"Ingrate!" Charles spat. "I sacrificed for you. I gave you all the opportunities I never had. And you've done nothing but throw it back in my face."
"I never asked you to kill anyone."
I swallowed hard. If I wasn't in the soup before, I was now.
Charles didn't deny it. To the contrary, in fact. "If you'd been able to keep yourself from being shamed, I wouldn't have had to!" he bellowed. "Your reputation would be mud without me. How much do you think your pieces would have gone for after that girl wrote another exposé about you? I already get enough crap from my golfing buddies because you're an artist." His upper lip curled in contempt. "A failed artist? I could never show my face again."
Chad's face turned red with shame.
"No," Charles said. "I couldn't let that happen. And then, shacking up with that girl... and marrying her!"
"I wasn't going to marry her," Chad said.
"That's not what she said," Charles told him. "She was plotting to get pregnant and trap you. I know the type," he added, glancing over at Julia. "How do you think you ended up
here?"
"Charles!" Julia said, looking horrified.
"It's the truth, Julia," Charles said. "It's your fault he's a total failure."
"He's not," Julia said. "He's very talented. His third-grade art teacher..."
"Third-grade art teacher? Really? I think we're done here," he said, and turned to Chad. "But this is the last time I go to bat for you. Next time, you're on your own."
"I don't want you to go to bat for me," Chad said. "I never wanted you to. Not like this."
"You sure didn't complain when I got you into that fancy school."
"I didn't know!" Chad said. "It was so embarrassing... I wanted to crawl into a hole when I saw that article. I had no idea you'd pulled strings to get me accepted."
"You never even thanked me."
Chad crossed his arms over his chest, a mix of fury and fear on his face. "I'd rather not get in at all than have you buy me a spot without telling me. It wasn't fair."
"Fair?" Spittle spewed from Charles's mouth as he spoke. "I bend over backward for you, and it isn't fair?"
Julia put a tentative hand on her husband's arm. "Charles..."
He whirled to face his wife, slapping her hand away. "I said, shut up!"
She took a step backward, her face sheet white, cradling her hand against her chest.
"I think we need a breather," Chad suggested.
"No," Charles said. "We need to deal with the situation." He turned to me. "You. We're going for a walk."
"If you kill me like you did the others, they'll know they have the wrong murderer," I pointed out as calmly as I could, trying to buy time.
"Like I hadn't thought of that. You're a regular genius, aren't you?" he said. "No loss to the gene pool with you gone."
"Leave her out of this," Chad said, stepping toward him.
"It's too late for that," Charles said. "Surely even you can see that." He turned back to me. "Now, let's go."
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"For a walk," he said shortly. "Come on."
"Charles..."
"I'll be back in fifteen minutes," he said, glancing at his watch.
"I'm not going," I said. After all, he didn't have a gun. I stood up and made a break for the door, but he caught my arm. I tried to wrench myself free, but his hand was like a vise just above my elbow.
"Let me go," I said, yanking on my arm.
"No," he said, yanking me over toward the countertop.
"Dad! Stop it," Chad commanded. Julia just stood there, wide-eyed, apparently paralyzed.
Charles ignored his son and yanked open a drawer, rifling through the contents until he pulled out a shiny meat mallet.
"You wouldn't," Julia breathed as he raised the mallet in one swift motion, then brought it down toward my head. I flinched and lunged to the side, but it still smacked me above my left ear. The kitchen wobbled, and my knees buckled beneath me.
I jerked my head, up, expecting to see Charles raising the mallet for a second blow, but as I hit the floor, I heard the word "No!"
Chad launched himself across the kitchen, smashing into his father. The mallet tumbled from his grip, hitting the wood floor with a bang; at the same time, the grip on my arm loosened. I pulled free and scrambled away from the two men, who were now writhing on the floor with Julia standing nearby, staring at them.
"Charles! No!" she screamed as Charles's hand reached out toward the mallet.
I tried to get to my feet, but I was too dizzy. As Chad struggled to keep his father down, the older man's hand crept closer and closer to the mallet. I was horrified. Would he really kill his son?
As I watched, Charles rolled toward the mallet, taking his son with him. His fingers closed on the handle, and he pulled it up, raising it over his son's head.
Before he could swing it, there was a crash. A potted fern exploded on Charles's head. The man went limp, the mallet tumbling to the hardwood floor.
Above him stood his wife, Julia.
23
"Oh, no," she whispered, her whole body shaking. "Is he... did I hurt him?"
She'd just dropped a potted plant on the man's head, so odds were the answer was yes, but I wasn't about to scold her.
Chad disentangled himself from his father, looking like he was still in shock, then stood up and wrapped an arm around his mother.
"I didn't mean to hurt him," she said in a small voice. "I just... he was going to hurt my boy. And I couldn't let him do it."
"I know, Mom," he said. "I know."
As they spoke, I crawled over to Charles and touched his neck. He had a pulse, thank goodness. On the downside, that meant he could come to at any minute.
I fished my phone out of his pocket and called John. He answered on the second ring.
"John, I'm at the blue house by the lighthouse. I need you to get the van and come now."
"Why? What happened?"
"Charles Berman just..." I looked up at the stricken faces of his wife and son. "Well, I'll explain when you get here. Just come. Quickly."
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I am. For now," I said, and hung up. "Do you have any rope, or twine, or anything?"
Julia blinked. "Why?"
"In case he comes to, I'd like to make sure he can't do something like that again."
"You're going to tie him up?" Julia asked, then seemed to reconsider. "Yes. It seems cruel, but you're right.” She gave her son a hug. "I can't risk my boy."
"I saw some rope in the garage, I think, hanging by the door," Chad said.
"Where's the garage?"
"Down that hallway and to the right," he said, pointing beyond the Sub-Zero fridge, and looked at me. "I'll keep an eye on Mom and Dad, if you'll run and get it."
"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.
He nodded. "I'll be fine," he said. "Go."
I hurried down the hallway and opened the door to the garage; thankfully, it was right where Chad remembered it being. I grabbed the coil of white-cotton rope from a nail on the wall and ran back down the hallway to the kitchen, where Chad had rolled his father over.
I quickly trussed up his hands and feet, using the knots I'd learned to tie since moving to a seafaring community. Chad watched me, grim-faced and pale, and Julia cried into her hands.
As soon as Charles was secured to my satisfaction, I checked his pulse and breathing and brushed away soil and pottery shards to examine the wound on his head. He'd gotten quite a bump, but already his eyes were moving behind their lids, and he was groaning.
"Do you have an ice pack?" I asked.
"I don't know," Chad said.
"I can make one," Julia said, seeming almost happy to have a task to do. I watched as she dug a plastic bag out of the pantry and filled it with ice, then wrapped it in a dish towel and put it on his head. When she was done, she looked at a loss again, and stood with her arms wrapped around herself, rocking slightly. A moment later, she buried her head in her hands again, while Chad looked at me helplessly.
I stood up and went over to Julia, putting a hand on her shoulder. She flinched and jerked away, and my heart ached for her. Hers had clearly not been a happy or healthy marriage, and I suspected the effects would be long-lasting.
"You saved your son," I reminded her. She didn't remove her hands from her face.
"I almost killed Charles," she moaned.
"You didn't," I said. "You knocked him out while he was attacking Chad. You did what you had to do. He was going to hit your son over the head with a meat mallet."
"He gets angry, but he's never..." She swallowed hard. "Never that I saw, anyway. I mean, a little bit of shoving, and maybe things got a bit out of hand sometimes... but he never... never..."
"Killed anyone?" Chad said in a stricken voice. "But he did, Mom. Somebody died because of me."
"Not because of you," I corrected him.
"No? If I'd been a decent son, he wouldn't have had to do all those things for me."
"Everything he did was his choice," I told Chad.
"You didn't ask him to do any of the things he did. You didn't even know he did them."
"But..."
"No 'but.' He made the choices he made. He may have thought he made them to help you, but they were bad decisions, they were his decisions, and they were one-hundred percent his responsibility.” Chad finally met my eyes, and I put my hands on his shoulders. "I promise, Chad. None of this is your fault."
"She's right," Julia said. "If anything, it's my fault. I didn't stop him. Didn't speak up."
"Did you know he was buying my way into Middlesex?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "I was scared to tell him no," she said in almost a whisper. "And then, with those girls... I didn't know until it was too late. And now I just... I feel like I should have said something earlier. That if I had..."
"You didn't know," I said.
"Of course she didn't know," Charles said from the floor. The ice pack slid to the side as he moved his head. "Why would I tell her? She'd be too stupid to keep her mouth shut."
Julia stared at him. "I can't believe I stayed with you so long. You're... you're a monster." She reached for Chad's arm. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."
I was sorry, too. For both of them.
By the time the paramedics and the police took Charles away, Chad and Julia had both talked with the detective, and were sitting in the kitchen of their rental looking shell-shocked.
"Why don't you come back to the inn with us?" I offered, holding John's hand. "It'll be good to be around people."
"But they'll all know what happened."
I shrugged. "It wasn't your doing. Just come," I offered again. "You can have dinner in the kitchen with us if you'd like to avoid everyone else. I've got plenty of room and plenty of food."
They exchanged glances. "I... I think I'd like that, actually," Julia said. "I don't want to be anywhere that reminds me of him. Chad, will you come? I don't want to be alone."
"I'll come," he said. "Let me just get my stuff. I don't want to stay in the same room, though," Chad said. "It'll remind me... remind me of Quartz."
"We'll put you on a different floor," John promised.
Scone Cold Dead Page 16
