Not What She Seems

by Victorine E. Lieske

  “Are you saying to me that you pushed William, and that’s how he died?”

  “Yes.”

  Steven pulled out his copy of the newspaper article. He spread it out on the coffee table.

  “Did you read this article?”

  She shrunk away from the paper, as if it would harm her. “No.”

  “It says William was hit in the back of his head with a hammer.”

  Emily’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. She mumbled softly, “No. No. No. I didn’t.”

  “Emily, I don’t think you killed your husband.”

  “Then who…?” Her face filled with confusion, doubt, and then realization. “Richard. Oh no.” A sudden crashing noise coming from the back of the house made them both jump.

  Steven hissed, “Get Connor and go outside, now!”

  She dashed into the other room while he inched his way to the kitchen. He could hear Emily calling Connor, trying to sound calm. When he turned the corner he let out his breath with relief. Connor stood in the kitchen, a broken drinking glass on the floor.

  “He’s in here!” Steven leaned over and picked up Connor, who looked like he was going to cry.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Connor sniffed.

  “It’s okay, honey, it was an accident.”

  Emily came running into the room and took Connor into her arms. She trembled. “Sweetie, we have to go now. Let’s go use the bathroom.”

  “But I’m thirsty.”

  “You can have a drink after you use the toilet.” She took him into the other room while Steven stood staring at the broken glass on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move outside. He went to the window, examining the backyard. There were footprints in the snow up to the house. Unease swept through him, and he raked his hand through his hair and turned. Emily was down the hall waiting for Connor to finish in the bathroom.

  “There are footprints in the snow in the backyard. Did you make them?”

  The color drained from Emily’s face. “No.”

  “Get Connor’s coat on him. I’ll go outside. I want you to lock the door behind me.”

  “No, if Richard’s outside he could hurt you.” The way she said it made him almost think she cared about him.

  “I need to make sure it’s safe for you and Connor to go out.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then nodded and followed him to the front door. Steven unlocked the chain and dead bolt. He opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. The door closed behind him and he heard the click of the lock.

  At first glance, everything looked normal, but as he started down the steps he saw footprints close to the house, winding a trail all around the perimeter. With adrenaline causing his heart to race, he walked around the home. A branch snapped under his foot and a few words flew out of his mouth that he wouldn’t normally say.

  He walked around the entire house without seeing anyone. He almost went back inside, but something made him go around once more. The footprints were heavily concentrated around one area, by a basement window. Steven took his foot and pushed on the glass, and the window freely swung inward.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily slid the chain lock into place after clicking the dead bolt. Steven will be fine, she told herself. The neighbor boys must have come to the back door this morning, leaving the footprints. She grabbed Connor’s coat and called for him to come.

  “Where are we going, Momma?”

  “We’re going for a drive. Put your coat on while I get your shoes.” She walked down the short hallway to his bedroom. A rattling noise coming from the back of the house made her head snap up. It sounded like Connor was trying to open the door to the basement. She always kept it locked. The basement was unfinished and dirty, and she didn’t want him playing down there. She stalked toward the kitchen. “I asked you to put your co–”

  Connor wasn’t at the basement door. Richard was glaring at her through the glass panel recessed in the wood. Panic surged through her and a scream tore from her throat. Richard slammed his fist into the glass and swore when it only cracked.

  Emily dashed to the living room and grabbed Connor, who looked terrified. Someone started pounding on the front door and ringing the doorbell. Steven!

  She fumbled with the locks with one hand, finally managing to get the door open. “He’s inside,” she hissed, nearly knocking Steven down as she barreled down the steps toward the driveway.

  Cold snow quickly melted into her cheap canvas shoes. She frantically pulled on her car door handle while awkwardly holding Connor in her arms. “It’s locked!”

  “Get in my car, now!”

  She turned to see Steven getting into the driver’s seat of his rental. Richard came shooting out of the front door, blood dripping off his hand and sprinkling on the white snow. There wasn’t enough time for her to get to Steven’s car; Richard was right in her path. Frenzied, she scampered into the street, slipping and sliding on the ice.

  Connor wailed, but there was no time to comfort him. All she could do was run as fast as possible, and try not to fall. She heard an engine roar to life behind her, and Steven’s car shot several feet past her before he slammed on his brakes. He leaned over the passenger side, opened the door, and Emily threw herself inside, clutching Connor close.

  Steven didn’t wait for her to shut the door. He floored it. The wheels spun uselessly on the ice while the car slid one or two inches to the left. Emily pulled on the door, but Richard caught it, smearing blood on the window. Connor screamed.

  “Get out of the car, Emily!” Richard yanked the door open, almost sending her onto the street. The car slid another two inches; tires caught pavement and the vehicle lunged forward sending him face first into the snow. Emily slammed the door shut and pressed the automatic lock button.

  ******

  Steven eased off the accelerator, his pulse slowing down to a more acceptable level. Connor stopped crying and buried his head in Emily’s shoulder.

  After Steven caught his breath he asked, “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m okay.”

  Steven took out his cell phone. Emily’s eyes widened.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling the police.”

  “What? No! You can’t.”

  He pressed several buttons. “I should have called a long time ago.”

  She grabbed his arm, pulled it down, and cradled his hand in hers, sending sparks of energy through him. “Please, Steven, wait. Don’t call right now. I need to figure out who can take Connor for me while I sort things out with the police.”

  He glanced at her, wiggled his hand free, and put the phone to his ear.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “I saw a man with a bleeding hand on eighteenth and Juniper Street. Looked pretty bad, thought I should call it in.”

  “What’s your name, sir?”

  “I’d like to remain anonymous.”

  “Okay, sir. What did the man look like?”

  “He’s tall, long blond hair, blood dripping from his left hand. Please hurry.” Steven snapped his cell shut and slid it into his pocket.

  Emily was silent for a few minutes, before whispering, “Thank you.”

  He gripped the steering wheel tighter and didn’t say anything. After a few blocks he pulled over. “You should buckle Connor up in the backseat. It’s not safe to drive with him on your lap like that.”

  “You’re right.” She pulled Connor back to look him in the eyes. “Sweetie, you need to get into the backseat for me, okay?” He nodded, and Emily got out, situating him in the back.

  “Why was Richard so mad, Mommy? Because we didn’t bring him to our new house?”

  “Something like that, love. Now stay buckled in your seat and be a good boy for Mommy, okay?”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  No one spoke for several more minutes, until Emily sat up straight and said, “Where are we going?”

  “To
the airport.” Steven kept his eyes on the road.

  “Airport? I can’t get on a plane!”

  “I think you and Connor should come to New York with me.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” Emily’s voice started to rise. “And when were you planning on telling me this?”

  “I really didn’t think you had much of a choice. You can’t go back to your house with Richard there, and I’m not dropping you off on a street corner.” He chanced a glance at her.

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and then sat back in her seat, her bottom lip sticking out. “And how am I supposed to get on a plane? I have no money and no ID.”

  “You don’t need ID to get on my jet. I’ll fly you to New York and we’ll contact a lawyer on Monday.”

  “I can’t afford a lawyer. I’ll talk to the police by myself.”

  “I will pay for the lawyer.”

  Emily didn’t speak for some time. When she finally did, her words sounded deep and raspy. “Why are you doing this?”

  Because I’m in love with you. Steven shook his head, swallowed hard and said, “Because I can’t let you go to prison for what another person did, and Connor deserves to have his mother there to raise him, and it’s simply the right thing to do.”

  ******

  Richard pulled himself up to his feet, swaying a little as he watched the car speed down the street and turn. Cringing, he bit back the words that wanted to escape. Holding his hand up, he assessed the damage. The gash was quite deep; he should have grabbed something else to smash the window with. He acted in haste when he saw her, a mistake he was not going to repeat.

  He went inside the house and rummaged through the bathroom cabinet, blood dripping on the floor, making a noise like a metronome. Finding nothing suitable, he resorted to wrapping one of Connor’s shirts around him and securing it with duct tape.

  Richard wandered into the kitchen, kicking the broken glass out of his way, and opening the refrigerator. His eyes scanned the contents. The sound of police sirens wailed in the distance. He grabbed the milk container and brought it to his lips, and froze. The sirens grew louder. The milk dropped to the floor, spilling amongst the bits of glass. He ran outside, cradling his makeshift bandage in the crook of his other arm. Seconds later he sped away.

  ******

  With feet and hands frozen, Emily fidgeted to keep warm. Steven must have noticed, because he reached over and turned up the heat. She was too mortified about everything that had happened to say anything. This day couldn’t get any worse.

  She peeked at him through the corner of her eye. His jaw clenched tight, he kept his eyes on the road. She sunk into her seat a little more.

  Steven took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, “So, how did you get a job at the Downtown Café without being caught by the police?”

  Emily fiddled with her hands. Any ounce of dignity she may have had left, slipped to the floor and crawled under her seat. “When I was several months pregnant, Richard took me to Chicago, to some guy he found on the Internet. He gave us fake IDs and Social Security numbers.”

  “If Richard was afraid of you leaving him, why did he get you fake papers?”

  “He didn’t want to give the hospital my real ID.”

  Steven nodded his head. After a few moments of silence he said, “Why didn’t you leave Richard before now?”

  “I tried once, before Connor was born. I told Richard I was going to give myself up. I wanted to give my baby to my parents. I knew they would take him if I got sent to prison. But when I tried to contact them I found out they had been killed.”

  “Do you think Richard killed them?”

  Nausea enveloped her. “I—I don’t know.”

  Steven didn’t ask any more questions, and Emily silently thanked the heavens for it. She was relieved when they arrived at the airport. Connor was excited to see the planes, and it was a welcome distraction. Her only goal was to get through the next few days, then get as far away from Steven Ashton as she could.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The limousine pulled up to the main entrance to the condominium, pausing while the large iron gate opened. The late afternoon sun reflected off the bars. Emily looked down at her son sleeping peacefully, leaning on her arm, his stocking feet sticking straight out in front of him. She hoped his feet weren’t cold. At least he had his coat.

  The spacious motor court was lavishly decorated for the holidays. Live trees were lit up with twinkling white lights that reflected off the marble walls and ceiling. Stylish gold bows were tied on each column, and soft Christmas music filled the air. Emily glanced down at her grubby appearance, feeling quite out of place. The chauffer opened the door and she stepped out, tugging at her coat.

  Steven opened his own door and got out. “Thank you, Ted.” The chauffer nodded.

  Emily leaned into the limo and lifted Connor, smiling as he opened his eyes and gasped, “Are we at Santa’s house?”

  Steven’s chuckle filled the courtyard. “No, this is where I live.”

  “Wow.” Connor’s eyes drifted half closed, and he put his head down on her shoulder, falling back asleep. She wasn’t sure what he weighed, but her arms started hurting as she carried him. Steven was still smiling when they entered the lobby, and Emily’s heart jumped into her throat, apparently attempting to escape. Why did he have to be so blindingly handsome?

  They boarded the elevator. Steven pulled out a security card, and swiped it. The elevator doors closed and they ascended. Emily had never seen such a thing before. Apparently not just anyone could go up to Steven’s apartment. This made her feel better.

  They rode the elevator without conversation, and Steven’s smile faded as they rode. The elevator opened up into a cozy sitting room, with several leather wingback chairs, a lamp on a table, and an expensive looking rug. Steven waited for her to exit first.

  They walked through the sitting room, and Steven stopped at the first door on the left.

  “This is my guest apartment.” He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, then stepped aside so she could enter. “I had Elena stock the refrigerator and put fresh linens on the beds.”

  Emily tried not to gasp as they walked through the foyer into the huge living room, the view of the New York skyline displayed before her through large panoramic windows. The room was furnished tastefully with dark wooden tables and plush furniture. A few plants were scattered throughout the room, a reminder to Emily that someone was here every day to at least water the plants.

  “Steven, I–” Her words caught in her throat. She patted Connor’s back, trying to think of what she wanted to say.

  “He must be heavy. Let me help you put him down.” He reached for Connor, and Emily gladly let Steven take him. She followed him into the bedroom where he laid Connor down, unzipped his coat, and slipped his arms out. Connor rolled over and hugged the pillow. Steven grinned at Emily, and pulled the blanket over his little shoulders.

  When they were back in the living room, Emily sank down onto the couch. Steven ran his fingers through his hair, and looked out of the window. She closed her eyes, knowing that he wasn’t going to leave yet.

  She took a breath. “I’m very sorry. I know that doesn’t make up for what happened, but I truly am sorry. I’ll pay you back, somehow.” She bit her lip, waiting to see what he was going to say.

  “I’m sorry too, Emily.” He didn’t turn around to look at her.

  She raised her eyebrows. “What in the world are you sorry for?”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what was going on. That was my fault, for lying about who I was in the first place. I’m sorry I wasn’t the kind of person who you could tell the truth to.”

  Emily folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t think she would have told him the truth, no matter what he had said to her.

  Steven turned around to look at her. “I don’t mean to change the subject, but I need to know something.” He rubbed the back of his
neck.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer any more questions, but stiffened and said, “All right.”

  “What size do you and Connor wear?”

  “What?”

  “I um...” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Connor doesn’t have any pajamas, or even shoes. I was going to have some things sent up, but I couldn’t possibly guess…”

  “Oh, right.” Emily felt her face flush. “Connor wears a size four T, and I think his shoes are a size ten.”

  He stood there, looking uncomfortable. Finally he said, “And you?”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  He frowned. “What will you wear to bed?”

  “I don’t need anything to wear to bed.”

  Steven coughed, and his face turned a deep shade of red. Emily stammered, “I mean I can sleep in this.”

  “And what will you wear tomorrow?”

  “I can wash these clothes and wear them again.”

  Steven folded his arms. “Just tell me.”

  “No.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to guess then. Twelve?”