The Will
Page 53
“Then, swear to God, it was like a teenaged Nicolas Sparks movie. Con moved in, picked her up, asked her if she was okay and she burst into tears right on the spot and took off. The whole school is yammering about it.”
This might not be good news.
“Good talk or bad talk?” I queried.
“Uh…Josie, Con’s hot, he got screwed over by Mia and Ellie so everyone’s thinkin’ he’s the misunderstood hero with a wounded heart. And Sofie’s pretty, sweet and far’s I know, never been kissed. Every girl who keeps a diary is going to be chronicling this story in pink ink with loads of hearts drawn around it.”
“I’ll take that as good,” I stated as the last DVD regurgitated itself from the tall red box.
“Yeah,” he replied and I could hear his laughter. Then he went on, “Oh, and Amber’s waving and yapping at me. She wants you to tell Mr. Spear she’s gonna be late tonight. She and Alexi are going to a movie after school then he’s taking her out to dinner.”
This was a smooth maneuver a la Amber, giving me this information to give her father who was resigned to his daughter dating but that didn’t mean he liked it.
“Tell her I’ll handle that,” I said.
“Cool,” he replied.
“Now, you have a good afternoon, young Taylor. Stay alert in class.”
“Will do. You have a good afternoon too, Josie,” he replied.
“I will. Take care and say hello to Amber and girl Taylor for me.”
“Consider it done. Later,” he bid his farewell.
“Good-bye, Taylor,” I bid mine, added the last DVD to my pile, turned and stopped dead.
Then I took a step back and ran into the Redbox.
“Stupid little bitch,” Uncle Davis hissed, leaning into me threateningly.
I stared at him, my body frozen, but my heart was slamming in my chest.
I’d taken him in that night he’d made his surprise and unwelcome visit but that night was dark.
Now, it was a shock to see what the years had done to him.
When I was young, he seemed so powerful, so threatening, so fearsome. He terrified me, even more than my father. I knew my father had violence in him, I’d witnessed it and experienced it from the moment I had memories.
But Uncle Davis somehow was worse.
Now he was a shell of his former self. A fragile, chipped one that appeared easily crushed should you trod on it.
I had these thoughts in a blink of an eye.
And in that same blink, Uncle Davis got close.
“Asshole who found me and told me about the wad Ma laid on you had that attorney’s firm on retainer. Now, seein’ as he has to pay for that shit outta pocket, he don’t feel like ponying up. Especially when that stupid bitch who told him she had it all covered and…fuckin’…didn’t then told him it wasn’t gonna go easy. She also laid that shit on my door when the first judge she was tryin’ to get to fast track me to my rightful inheritance refused the case since he said me and Chess played some fuckin’ prank on him a half a fuckin’ century ago and he’s not over it so he can’t be impartial.”
I blinked as all this information, and there was a good deal of it, processed through me.
Uncle Davis seemed not to know, or possibly care, how much he was giving because he kept giving it.
“Now, that asshole Stone says it’s up to me. I got me a lawyer who’d take the case for a percentage of what he gets me and then your”—he jabbed a finger at me so close to my face, I made a futile attempt to press further into the Redbox—“lawyer buried him under so much shit, now he’s sayin’ he needs a retainer from me to stay on the case.”
I swallowed.
Uncle Davis’s eyes narrowed and he got closer, his mouth opening to say more but he didn’t get it out.
This was because someone close ordered, “Step away from Ms. Malone.”
I looked to my left to see Magdalene’s tall, handsome sheriff there, wearing a sheriff-style shirt but with jeans and although tall and handsome (something I noticed when I met him several days ago, seeing as he was that tall and that handsome, it was hard to miss—something I noticed even more now for that sheriff shirt was quite something on a man like him). However, tall and handsome he was, he was not happy.
“What’s goin’ on here?” I heard at that point and looked to my right to see Mickey bearing down on us.
But, alas, Uncle Davis was focused.
On me.
Thus I had no choice but to focus on him.
“I’m not payin’ for this shit, shit I shoulda got straight from Ma,” he announced.
“Sir, I asked…step away from Ms. Malone,” the sheriff repeated.
Uncle Davis again ignored him.
“That house and that money are mine, bitch, and the half I was willin’ to give you outta the goodness of my heart is really Chess’s and since I didn’t fuck Chess over like you did, I figure that’s mine too.”
The sheriff and Mickey were much closer when the sheriff reiterated, “Sir, I will not ask again. Step away from Ms. Malone.”
He didn’t get the opportunity to comply. Mickey wrapped his hand around my bicep and slid me out from in front of Uncle Davis then he pressed me behind him as he stepped between me and my uncle.
Uncle Davis glared at Mickey. “I wasn’t done talkin’ to my niece.”
“Oh yeah you were,” Mickey replied quietly.
Uncle Davis’s brows shot up. “You takin’ on an old man?”
“Just tellin’ you whatever else you gotta say to Josephine, you’re not gonna say it,” Mickey returned then shifted slightly my way and ordered, “Get to your car, honey.”
“Don’t you move a fuckin’ muscle,” Uncle Davis commanded, again lifting a hand and jabbing a finger my way.
Mickey stepped to the side, between me and my uncle’s finger, at the same time shielding me from view.
“Sir, calm down and move away from Mr. Donovan and Ms. Malone,” the sheriff demanded.
Uncle Davis leaned to the side to catch my eyes. “This is not done, bitch. I’m gonna get what’s mine, however I gotta do it.”
“Now I gotta ask you to stop threatening Ms. Malone and remind you that not only are you doin’ that in front of witnesses but an officer of the law.”
Uncle Davis turned to the sheriff. “You think I give a shit?”
“I think you aren’t very smart if you don’t,” the sheriff returned.
Uncle Davis opened his mouth to speak but I did it before him.
“Bring it on.”
I felt all attention come to me and stepped from behind Mickey so Uncle Davis could see me clearly. Mickey wrapped his fingers around my wrist but that was all he did before I started talking again.
“Do you honestly think I’m still frightened of you?” I asked.
“I think you never learned that lesson from your father like you should,” he answered.
Highly inappropriate.
So Uncle Davis.
“Yes, I did, Uncle Davis,” I told him. “I absolutely did that last time when he put me in the hospital.”
I felt Mickey and the sheriff go alert but I wasn’t done.
“But I’m older now. Wiser. And you’re older too. Weak. And not very smart. And all this is just what you do. Making people’s lives miserable because you’re a sociopath and you enjoy it. I think it’s only fair to warn you that you can put a good deal of effort into trying to make me miserable but you won’t succeed. It will end being quite frustrating so I’d advise you to cut your losses now.”
“I got a hankerin’ to put a fair amount of effort into it, Josephine,” Uncle Davis replied and I shrugged when he did.
“My invitation still stands. Have at it. It’ll be your time and money that you lose.”
His eyes narrowed on me, something shifting in them before they did, and he offered, “Make things easier for you. You give me a check, I’ll get outta town.”
And I knew precisely what that meant. I remembered the w
ay I grew up. I remembered the way he and my father were. How they lived. How my father living that way meant I lived. Even as I kid, I knew it because, especially as a kid, you couldn’t miss it.
“What you’re saying is, Boston Stone paid for your trip here and now he’s washed his hands of you, you don’t have the money to get wherever home is.”
He glared at me but shifted on his feet.
This meant I was correct.
“You won’t get a penny from me,” I told him.
“Then I’ll get it all from you by takin’ that house and Ma’s money,” he fired back.
“If you honestly think you can win that fight, bring that on too,” I retorted. “It’s not me who’s seventy-two years old and out of money in a place without a friend.”
“We’ll see,” he returned.
“We most certainly will,” I agreed. Then I dismissed him and looked to the sheriff. “Lovely to see you again, sheriff.”
“Coert,” he corrected, grinning at me.
Another unusual name. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it but it was better than Boston.
“Coert.” I smiled at him then looked up at Mickey. “Thank you, Mickey.”
“No problem, babe,” he replied.
“Maybe you’ll come to dinner soon?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Good,” I murmured then looked between the two men, ignoring my uncle, and decided to get on with my day. “Later, gentleman,” I said as I started toward the door.
“Later, Josie,” Coert called.
“Later, darlin’,” Mickey said.
I lifted a hand in a wave and walked out the door.
I was halfway back to Lavender House when my phone rang. I took the chance to glance at the screen as it was sitting face up on my passenger seat. When I saw who was calling, I broke a rule I normally always kept, grabbed my mobile and put it to my ear.
“Hello, darling,” I greeted.
“Seriously?” Jake replied.
Again, I thought this word was overused, and further, particularly in this instance, I didn’t understand it.
So I asked, “Seriously what?”
“Just got off the phone with Mick.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Oh?” he asked. “That asshole pins you against a Redbox, you don’t call me? Then I call you and all you say is ‘oh?’”
“Jake, darling,” I started soothingly. “He’s quite elderly. Boston Stone has withdrawn his assistance. I’m relatively certain he’s destitute. Although that encounter was unpleasant, he’s hardly a threat and anyway, Mickey and Sheriff Coert were there.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t and that shit happened to my woman. And I gotta know when shit like that goes down.”
“You can hardly beam yourself to me on a whim should you get a sense I’m in danger,” I pointed out.
He said nothing so I went on.
“And furthermore, it’s over. I’m fine. And he did impart on me a good deal of news that was not good for him but is very good for me, that being that Boston Stone has washed his hands of Uncle Davis and Arnie is on the case so he’s finding it difficult to hire alternate representation.”
“Babe,” he said low and not soothingly. “Hear me. Shit goes down with you that’s unpleasant, I don’t care how unimportant you think that unpleasant is, you tell me.”
“I dislike speaking on the phone while driving,” I shared. “But just so you know, I did plan on sharing this with you over dinner.”
“Dinner is five hours away.”
I said nothing for there was nothing to say. This was true.
Jake, however, said something.
“Remember what I said about you even feelin’ funny about a look you get in the grocery store?”
Oh dear.
I did remember that.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
“So, next time something unpleasant happens to you, what are you gonna do?”
Apparently, I was going to share this with Jake without delay.
“Contact you,” I replied.
“Good answer, Slick.”
I gave it a moment, kept driving and when he said nothing more, I shared, “I was able to acquire all Ethan’s viewing selections for him and his friends this evening.”
His voice was a strange combination of exasperated and amused when he replied, “Excellent news.”
“I was worried at least one would be checked out but that’s not the case,” I informed him.
“I’ll bring the champagne.”
I grinned at his quip.
Since he was quipping, I decided to share news he would like much less than me getting all the videos his son wanted for that evening.
“Amber has a date with Alexi that starts after school. She’ll be home late.”
“Great,” he muttered unhappily.
“And reportedly Conner behaved like the hero from a romance film when Sofie dashed away from him, took a tumble and he picked her up off the floor.”
There was a moment of silence before, “Jesus, boy Taylor’s got a big mouth.”
“He keeps me informed.”
“He fuckin’ does,” Jake agreed before querying, “Con get in there with Sofie?”
“Alas, she burst into tears and ran away.”
“Good for him to have a challenge,” Jake murmured as if to himself. “Don’t appreciate it unless they make you work for it. You win it, you know what you got, you know to take care of it.”
This was when I was silent but I was this way with my belly feeling very warm.
Jake broke into my silence to say, “Right, see you later.”
“Okay, darling. See you later.”
“Bye, Slick.”
“Good-bye, Jake.”
He rang off.
I tossed my phone to the passenger seat when he did and finished driving home.
* * * * *
The mattress moved and I felt a blast of cold as I lost Jake’s body because he was exiting the bed.
I turned and called out sleepily, “Jake?”
“Do not turn on the lights. Get your phone. Listen. You call 911, you hear something you don’t like.”
My heart shot to my throat so I had to push through it, “Pardon?”
“Motion sensor light, baby. Back door. Phone. Now,” he said into the dark then he was gone.
I lay on the bed frozen for a moment before my body became a flurry of movement. I threw back the covers, grabbed my robe from the end of the bed and tugged it on. After that, I reached out and grabbed the phone and, fumbling but succeeding, I tied the belt on my robe once I got the phone in my hand.
My eyes went to the alarm clock, which told me it was 4:12 in the morning then they moved to the window. I could see dim illumination coming up from the light at the back door and I stared out the window wondering how on earth Jake sensed that when he had to be dead asleep.
That was when I heard the faraway crash of a window breaking.
My heart seized but my thumb flew over the keypad of the phone which fortunately lit up the instant I pressed a button.
I hit the three numbers as I dashed to the table by the window where I knew an antique bank made of iron and shaped like the Empire State Building sat. I grabbed it and ran to the door as the 911 operator answered.
I hit the hall and said, “This is Josephine Malone at Lavender House in Magdalene. Ten Lavender Lane.” I stopped dead in the hall, tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder and lifted a hand sharply when I saw the shadow of Conner coming out of his room and kept talking. “We’re experiencing a break in and my boyfriend is downstairs.”
Conner heard me, moved swiftly my way, which meant toward the stairs, and the 911 operator spoke to me but I hissed to Conner.
“Con, no!”
He ignored me but grabbed the iron bank out of my hand before he moved past me and disappeared down the stairs.
I followed him and interrupted the operator to say, “Now Jake’
s seventeen year old son is going down there.”
“I’ve dispatched a unit. Please get to a safe place and lock yourself in if you can.”
I hesitated at the top of the stairs and looked down the hall.
“We have three eight year old boys in this house and a sixteen year old girl,” I told her.
“Assemble them and lock yourself someplace safe. A unit is on the way.”
I dashed down the hall to Amber’s door, asking, “What about Jake and Conner?”
“Ma’am, take care of the children.”
Blast!
Of course!
I threw open Amber’s door, raced to the bed and put a hand to her, shaking.
She turned, murmuring, “Wha?”
“Up, honey, hurry. We need to get to Ethan.” She didn’t move for a moment so I ordered urgently, “Up, Amber.”
She threw the covers off and had her feet on the floor when we both shrieked as the lights went on.
Conner in a pair of sweats with a bare chest stood in the door.
Vaguely I noted I was correct upon seeing him some time ago at Gran’s funeral. He’d inherited much from his father, including his physique.
“Josie, Dad’s got your uncle in the kitchen. He says to call 911 and get Coert out here to take him away,” Conner announced.
“Ma’am, what’s happening?” the operator asked in my ear.
But I wasn’t listening.
I was fuming.
And thus I stomped to Conner and handed him the phone, ordering, “The 911 operator is on the line. Inform her of this news.”
I then stomped around him, down the hall, the stairs and into the fully lit kitchen.
There I saw Jake in pajama bottoms and nothing else towering over my uncle who was sitting at the kitchen table.
I watched as my uncle tried to stand and Jake put a hand on him and shoved him back in the chair.
“Sit. Stay. Do not try to get up again, old man. I don’t give a fuck I could break you in half. Give me a reason to do it and I’ll take it,” Jake growled.
“Jake,” I called, advancing into the room.
Jake sliced angry eyes to me and asked immediately, “You call 911?”
“Yes. Conner’s on with them now,” I answered, my eyes going to my uncle who was glaring up at Jake.
My words were proved true when Conner came in behind me still on the phone. “Yeah. It’s okay. The guy who tried to break in is about seven hundred years old. He’s not a threat. He’s sitting at the kitchen table. Okay. Thanks.” He beeped off the phone and looked to his father. “Police are on their way.”