Mr. and Mrs. Wrong

by Fay Robinson

  “What really happened to her? She obviously didn’t die in a car accident with your father.”

  “Emphysema. She was sick most of the time I was growing up, but it finally got bad around my fourteenth birthday. She couldn’t do much after that. Ray had been in and out of jail for years, and we couldn’t count on him for anything but grief. Emma…she’d run away by then, so it was only me and my mother living together when she died.”

  “You told your father you don’t know where your sister is. Is that true?”

  “I haven’t seen her since I was twelve. I’ve searched, but I don’t know where she went when she left Springfield. I doubt she wants to be found.” The confusion in her eyes made him add, “Springfield was where we were living at the time. We moved whenever Ray got into trouble or the landlord wanted the rent. He had a lot of associates, as he called them, friends he met in jail or that he’d pulled jobs with at one time or another. When we didn’t have a place to stay, we’d look up one of them.”

  Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. The spark of compassion in her eyes gave him hope. “Sounds like a terrible life for a child,” she said.

  “The worst part was never knowing what I was going to find when I came home, whether Ray would be there or had been arrested again.”

  “You called him a thief. Is that why he went to jail?”

  “Burglary, theft, running numbers. He did whatever he could to make cash without having to work. I doubt Ray’s ever made an honest buck in his life.”

  “Why did you call yourself a thief? Have you been to prison?”

  “No, it never came to that, but I was headed down that road. I knew Ray was pulling jobs long before my mother did. Sometimes…he’d take me with him when he hit a house. Because I was smaller, he’d send me in through a window, or if it was a commercial building, the air-conditioning duct. By the time I was ten, I could pick any kind of lock. It really tickled him that I could do it, and because I was young and stupid and wanted my father’s attention, I thought it was pretty cool.” He hung his head, shamed by it. “I never got caught, but I knew it was wrong and I hated the way we lived—the lies, the fear… We never had any money, no matter how much he stole. My mom got sicker and sicker. We lived in places no human should have to, where we could look through the holes in the floor and see the dirt below.”

  “Snakes,” Lucky said quietly.

  “Yeah, but at least they ate the rats.”

  A sob escaped her lips. “Oh, Jack…that’s horrible. Your sister shouldn’t have left you to deal with those problems alone.”

  “I don’t blame her. The situation was even worse for Emma, because Ray had her helping him with his cons. Breaking into a house and stealing from people you never see is hard enough, but Emma was eye-to-eye with the people she stole from.”

  “What kind of things did she do?”

  “Mostly scammed people out of their money. Emma had this uncanny ability to transform herself. She could look younger…older. With a little makeup and a disguise, she could pass herself off as someone’s eight-year-old kid or their eighty-year-old grandmother. She loathed it, though. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore. Neither could I. I told Ray I wouldn’t help him, that I wanted him to stop and get a real job and buy a house so we could take care of my mother the way she deserved. I wanted…to live for once like decent people.”

  He swallowed his pain. The conversation had been years ago, but he remembered it as though it was yesterday. Remembered how hopeless he’d felt afterward.

  “But he didn’t quit,” he said, continuing. “He was afraid he couldn’t make it by going straight. Not long after, he got arrested again. We were living in Maryland by then, the wrong place to get into trouble. They sent him up for hard time—prison. I heard a few years later that he tried to escape and got another ten years. I figured I’d never have to worry about seeing him again after that, but obviously I was wrong.”

  “How did you and your mother get by?”

  “Public assistance.”

  “And when she died?”

  “A guy who owned a hardware store where I had a part-time job pretended to be a distant relative, only he didn’t take me into his home like the caseworker believed. He gave me a cot in the back of the store, and I lived there for two years. The deal was sweet for him, because I worked whenever I wasn’t in school and he paid me virtually nothing. Those were two of the loneliest years of my life.”

  “Wasn’t there any other place you could go?”

  “A foster home, but the store seemed to be a better option than going to live with strangers. At least I had a dry place to sleep and a little money. And, too, I knew the guy wouldn’t physically abuse me in any way. He was a greedy jerk, but he wasn’t mean.”

  “The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.”

  “Yeah, that was how I figured it. I promised my mother that I’d finish high school, so I was willing to do whatever it took to fulfill her dying wish. When I graduated, I joined the army and did my two-year stint. I changed my name, used my G.I. benefits to enroll at Penn State and later joined the police force in Pittsburgh. That seemed like the smart thing to do.” He smiled humorlessly. “I already had an intimate knowledge of crime.”

  “What did your father mean when he said he guessed you’d turned into Marshal Cahill?”

  He looked away, embarrassed. “Cahill, U.S. Marshal was a movie starring John Wayne. My eighth-grade teacher played it at the end of the school year to keep us quiet while she graded papers. I became obsessed with it. Ray teased me unmercifully. I’m sure he thinks it’s pretty funny I chose that name.”

  “Great. I’m married to a John Wayne character.”

  He grimaced, not knowing how to respond. She must think him a fool.

  The baby moved, rolling across her stomach hard enough that he could see the movement through her sweatshirt. She put her hand to the spot.

  “That’s everything,” he said. “I swear it. I love you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful from the beginning. Tell me what I have to do to make you forgive me.”

  She wiped her eyes with the tissue her mother had given her. “Hearing about your past breaks my heart. I can’t imagine how you survived it and turned out so well. I’m proud of the person you’ve become, but…a marriage is based on truth and trust. We don’t have that, Jack…or J.T. or whatever your name is. And I don’t see how we can ever have it after today.”

  “We can.”

  “How, when I don’t even know who you are?”

  “You know everything about me, every miserable fault I have. I’ve told you things today I’ve never told anyone.”

  He leaned forward and took her hand, but she pulled it away. “No, please don’t touch me. That’s the last thing I need right now.”

  “Then tell me what you do need. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

  “I’d like you to leave the cabin.”

  Fear knotted his stomach. “Move out? Why?”

  “Because I need time alone if I’m going to get past this. I’m so hurt and angry that just being in the same room with you is difficult. Please, pack some clothes and stay in town for a while.”

  “For how long?”

  “That’s not a question I can answer right now.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CLOSED UP in the bedroom she’d used as a child, Lucky had plenty of time to grieve, for grief was what it felt like.

  After Jack had left, she’d told her parents and grandmother what had happened. They’d been shocked but supportive. Her dad had offered to drive out to the cabin, pick up Beanie and bring her back to the house so Lucky could stay with them, but she wanted to go home.

  Once she knew for sure that Jack had collected his things, she’d think about putting her miserable self in the truck and making the trip. Right now, though, she had family to deal with. Against her instructions, her mother had called Leigh, Shannon and Cal and filled them in, and within ten minutes the Mathison si
blings had descended on the house.

  Shannon commiserated with her. So did poor Cal, who seemed more upset than anyone. Jack’s betrayal had hit him hard.

  When another soft knock sounded, Lucky knew who it had to be. Leigh opened the bedroom door. “Will you let me come in? I’d really like to talk to you.”

  “Not if you came here to gloat.” She grabbed another tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew her nose. “I already know how stupid I am. A dumb, stupid hick.”

  “I promise, no gloating. I thought you might need somebody to cry with.”

  “I’m all cried out.” When Leigh continued to stand there, hesitant, Lucky muttered, “But you might as well come in, anyway.”

  Leigh sat with her on the bed. “I’m so sorry. I mean that. I’d give anything for this not to have happened. And you’re not a stupid hick. This wasn’t your fault.”

  “I should’ve listened to you. Everybody tells me what great intuition I have, but where was it when I needed it?”

  “Didn’t you suspect just a little something wasn’t right?”

  “I guess,” she admitted, feeling like a complete idiot. “I suppose I didn’t want to know the truth.”

  “You love him. It’s easy to overlook problems when love is involved. That doesn’t mean you’re stupid. It means you’re trusting and you have a big heart. Hey, talk about stupid. I’ve got two university degrees, and Keith was banging his secretary for six months before I even noticed anything suspicious.”

  “This child keeps me tied to Jack forever, but I don’t know how to survive even the thought of it. When I imagine having to see him every day, I hurt so much I want to die.”

  “So divorce him. You could try suing for full custody and blocking him from your life completely. He entered the marriage without disclosing his full past. A judge would be sympathetic to your side.”

  “I could never do that. Being separated from his child would kill him.” The tears started again as she thought of all the plans they’d made, how he’d painted the nursery and put up the crib, how he’d already bought toys. “He’ll be a good father.” She sobbed into her sister’s shoulder.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Leigh patted her back. “You’ll get through this. I promise.”

  “I don’t want a divorce. I still love him—whoever he is.”

  “Then stay with him.”

  “But I don’t trust him. I’m not sure he’s even telling me the truth now. He could be some con artist. An ax murderer.”

  Leigh released her and made her wipe her eyes. “I don’t think they allow ax murderers in the police academy.”

  “But how do I know he’s really even a cop? He could be like that man they profiled on TV who assumed multiple identities and married wealthy women to bilk them out of their life savings.”

  “Are you stashing money I don’t know about?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t think you have to worry that he married you for the salary I’m paying you.”

  “Am I overreacting?”

  “Just a teeny bit.”

  “I don’t know what to think or do. My head is telling me I can’t trust him and that he’ll hurt me again, but my heart is telling me he’s worth the risk.”

  “Give yourself time to sort all this out. Would you like to come and stay with me and Susan? We’ve got that extra bedroom, and I’d love to have a baby in the house again. Having another one of my own doesn’t appear to be an option.”

  “I appreciate it, but I’m going home. I feel safe and comfortable there.”

  Leigh nodded. “I understand. If you need me, all you have to do is ask. Day or night.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “You should go ahead and take maternity leave. I know you wanted to work up until the last day, but you’re under so much emotional stress right now you should quit and relax.”

  “I might do that. I’d like to think about it for a couple of days, okay?”

  “Whatever you want. I’ve got another part-time person hired to do reporting, and she has photo and darkroom experience.”

  “You’re not replacing me, are you? Lord, I couldn’t stand losing my job on top of losing Jack.”

  “Kiddo, we could never replace you. You’re the heart of the whole company. This new person is going to be handling my reporting duties since I’ve gotten so busy, but she’s there to step in and take over for you temporarily whenever you say the word. So don’t start inventing things to worry about, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “What else do you need me to do for you? Anything?”

  “Well…there is something, but you won’t like it. I want you to promise not to confront Jack about what’s happened. Don’t fight with him.”

  “Lucky—”

  “No, listen to me. I’m furious at him, but he’s hurting, too. I don’t want him feeling any worse than he already does. That won’t help him or me get through this.”

  “He doesn’t deserve compassion. He might be an ax murderer, remember?”

  Lucky managed a small smile through her tears. “I remember. But in case he’s not…for my sake, don’t fight. Please? I can’t bear the thought of you and him going at each other.”

  Leigh didn’t want to agree, but Lucky kept after her until she did. “Okay, for your sake, I won’t fight with him. Can I at least tell him he’s a bastard?”

  “That you can do.”

  Leigh laughed. They hugged again. “There you go. We Mathison girls can still find our sense of humor even in the worst of circumstances.”

  “I’m lucky to have you. Poor Jack. He has nobody.”

  Leigh shook her head. “Don’t feel sorry for him.”

  “I can’t help it. His mother is dead. He doesn’t know where his sister is. And that father of his is a real character.”

  “Tell me about him. Did you two talk?”

  “Not really. I stood there dumbfounded while Jack did the talking. He was furious. He gets this little throbbing place in his cheek when he’s trying not to show how angry he is, and it was going ninety miles an hour.”

  “Not easy, I suppose, having your convict father show up after all these years. I’m surprised he even recognized him.”

  “Oh, that was no trouble, believe me. They look so much alike it’s uncanny. You’d know him in a minute.”

  “No one in town noticed the resemblance?”

  “I’m not sure, but I doubt it. I’d imagine Ray Webster has done his best to avoid the people Jack hangs out with.”

  “Cops.”

  “Uh-huh. Apparently he was released from prison only a few months ago.”

  “What I still don’t understand is why he was following you if he came here to see Jack.”

  “I don’t, either, but I plan to find out.”

  RAY LIT A CIGARETTE and settled back in a chair on the porch of the boardinghouse to wait. Didn’t take long. The boy came screeching up in that unmarked car of his twenty minutes later and stalked to the house.

  “Why aren’t you packing?” J.T. asked before he’d even reached the top step.

  “I’m not leavin’.”

  “I have things to say to you, old man.”

  “So say them.”

  A couple of the old poops were playing checkers as they did every afternoon, and they were pretty interested in what was going on.

  “In private,” J.T. said.

  “Suit yourself.” Ray got up and went inside, and the boy followed him to his room on the second floor. “Home, sweet home.”

  “It’s better than any home you ever gave us.”

  “I’m sure that’s right.” Ray sat in a rocker the widow had provided, but the boy preferred to pace back and forth, wearing a hole in the floor. “Is that why you’re here, J.T.? You want to remind me of every bad thing I ever did?”

  “That would take more time than I’m willing to spend with you.”

  “Bitter. I expected it, but it ain’t pretty, son.”

  “
I told you, I’m not your son. You killed whatever feeling I had for you a long time ago.”

  “I never claimed to be a good father, but maybe I’ll have better luck with that grandbaby.”

  J.T. stopped and yanked him up by the shirt with both hands. “You stay away from my wife and child.”

  “I only want to get to know them. That wife of yours. She’s a pistol. Seems to get herself in more trouble than I do.”

  “You listen to me. If I even see you on the same street as Lucky, you’ll wish they’d kept you in prison.” He released his hold, and Ray fell back in the chair.

  He straightened his clothes. “I was only watching out for her, boy. No need to get yourself riled up.”

  “I want you gone.” He opened the closet, got out the old suitcase Ray had bought at the pawnshop and flipped it open on the bed. Ray sat there and watched in silence as J.T. pulled his shirts from the closet, stuffed them in the suitcase and emptied the drawers of the bureau.

  When he’d finished, he took money from his wallet and tossed it on the bed.

  “You trying to get me busted, J.T.? If I leave town, they’ll send me back up.”

  “Now wouldn’t that be a shame?”

  The boy wasn’t going to cut him any slack.

  “All right, this is the way it is… I can’t take back what I did to you and Emma and your mama, and I know you hate my guts, but I ain’t going back to prison just because you can’t stand the sight of me. If you want me gone, I’ll go, but not until I find me another place and the parole board says it’s okay. I ain’t running again. I did it once and it cost me a chunk of my life.”

  “I’ll explain the situation to your parole officer.”

  “And have everybody know I’m your daddy? Fine, go ahead.” J.T. swore. “That’s what I thought. Didn’t figure you’d want those cops you work with to know your daddy’s an ex-con.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, boy, only layin’ out the facts so there won’t be any misunderstanding. I’ll leave, but I ain’t running away. I’m through with running. And I want to see that grandbaby once before I go.”