Infected. Son of a bitch.
Still feeling the remnant of nightmare terror, more tired than he had ever been before his nap, he started the car. He was useless out here.
So nice of you to join us.
Oh, you bitch, he thought. Whoever you are, whatever you are, I’m going to get you.
With a squeal of tires he pulled out into the street, glad of the sudden wind in his face.
“I don’t want to go,” Evan said.
“It’s only for during the day, Evan. Just until we can work out something else.”
Bonnie steered the car along the winding crescent. Oak trees towered above, their leaves and branches knitting a ceiling over the dividing boulevard. The houses, well back from the street, were surrounded in manicured lawns with fountains and flower beds. The comparison to her own neighborhood was shocking.
“What if they don’t let me leave?”
“Oh, don’t be silly.”
But the very same thing had occurred to Bonnie, and the mention of it only made her tighten her grip on the steering wheel.
“They said they wanted me.”
“But you’re my son. They can’t just take you. Don’t even think about it. How much farther?”
“A little bit.”
There were clouds in the sky this morning, and the air was heavy with moisture. The forecast called for another thundershower during the morning or early afternoon.
“Why couldn’t I just stay at home?”
“Because you’re only eight, and it’s illegal. I have to go to work, Evan.”
“Daddy let me stay at home.”
“But he had somebody to look after you.”
“So what? Why can’t you do that?”
“Because I can’t afford it,” Bonnie said softly.
Evan looked out the window and clamped his lips. Two bends in the road later, he sat up straight.
“That’s it.”
The neighborhood was beginning to seem familiar. It had been so long since she had been here. Not since the early days with Harris. She had never felt welcome.
She turned into a winding drive that led up to the front of a granite-faced house. The triple garage was attached to the house by a glass-walled tunnel which led to a basement entrance. Glass-encased stairs also led from the tunnel to the kitchen.
“My God, it’s huge,” she said.
The front door opened as she brought the car to a halt, and Tom Laws came out to the front steps. He waved. Evan got out of the car.
“Hi, Grandpa.”
Bonnie hesitated a moment, then got out.
“Are you in a hurry, or can you come in for coffee?”
Bonnie was surprised at the invitation. She checked her watch. 8:15. Plenty of time. She had wanted to talk to the Laws anyway. She might as well take advantage of the opportunity.
“Come on,” Tom said. “It’s fresh.”
She followed Evan up to the house. Inside was as grand as the outside. A wide central staircase, carpeted in red, led upstairs. To the right was a gigantic living room/dining room combination with two open fireplaces. To the immediate left was a study, cluttered with books and papers, and next to that a large eat-in kitchen that could have swallowed Bonnie’s entire house.
“Evan’s got a room upstairs, if you’d like to see it.”
“I had better not.”
No sense in compounding her feelings of inadequacy. Evan bounded up the staircase. “See you later, Mom.”
She waved at him. “Be good.”
Tom led her into the kitchen. He sat her down at a huge oak table and poured her a cup of coffee.
“The boy’s looking well,” he said.
“He’s still a bit off.”
“To be expected.”
The kitchen opened onto the back yard, a rolling field that descended into a thatch of trees, and beyond that the river. The bronze water moved sluggishly in the gray morning.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Bonnie said.
“Yes it is. A good place for a boy.”
Roberta had come into the kitchen. She stood in the doorway and looked back and forth between her husband and Bonnie. Bonnie blushed.
“That’s enough, Roberta. I asked her in for coffee.”
Roberta came around the central island with the built-in stove and oven and sat down at the end of the table.
“I saw Evan upstairs. He looks sicker than usual, and thinner, too.”
“Roberta!”
“Well, he does.”
Bonnie sipped her coffee. “He hasn’t been well,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Roberta asked.
“Since the accident, he hasn’t eaten much. He has bad dreams. He’s frightened.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you might be able to help.”
Tom sipped his coffee and frowned. Roberta lifted her chin.
“Perhaps if you’d let us take him in the first place.”
“It’s not that. Evan thinks his father is coming back to get him.”
“He’d be back by now.”
“Roberta, shut up.”
Roberta glared at her husband.
“What I mean is, he’s frightened of that. He’s frightened of Harris. He says he thinks Harris wants to give him to some people.”
“Give him?”
“I don’t know what he means,” Bonnie said. “You started to tell me something on Tuesday. You said something about changes. Changes in Evan? Harris?”
Both Roberta and Tom stared at her silently.
“Evan has been very difficult,” Bonnie continued. “He’s terrified that Harris is coming for him. He thinks there are people out to get him. When we went shopping, he had me convinced a poor mentally challenged man was following us. And yesterday, he ran away while I was in the bookstore, and when he came back he was crying and wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”
“Why was he alone to begin with?”
“Roberta!”
“I took him to a psychologist yesterday, at the suggestion of Lieutenant Peterson.”
“A psychologist?”
“And although she agreed that Evan is suffering a memory loss, probably caused by the accident, she could find no evidence of consistent abuse.”
“Abuse?” Roberta was wide eyed. “Are you suggesting that our son abused his son?”
Bonnie sipped her coffee. “I’m not suggesting anything, Mrs. Laws. I just want to find out what happened to Evan, so I can help him get over it.”
“There’s nothing to find out.”
Bonnie took a deep breath.
“We didn’t see much of Harris or Evan for a while,” Tom said slowly. “He did change.”
As he said this he looked directly at Roberta.
“But he never hurt the boy,” Roberta said.
“No, I don’t believe he did,” Tom said. “But he did change. We couldn’t get him on the phone. He wouldn’t come and visit. When he did drop Evan off one day for us to look after him, the boy was morose and quiet. But he showed no signs of being abused.”
Thinking about what Dr. Johnson had said, Bonnie asked, “Did Harris have a girlfriend?”
“My dear, he’s seen women since he left you, if that’s what you’re asking,” Roberta said.
“That’s not what I’m asking. The psychologist said that Evan may be harboring some resentment to a current girlfriend. I wondered if you knew of one.”
“No,” Roberta said.
Tom fingered his chin. “That day Harris dropped Evan off, there was a woman in the car. She wouldn’t come in. Evan wouldn’t talk about her.”
“Red hair?”
“You know, I think she might have had.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Roberta snapped.
“It’s just that Evan keeps talking about this redheaded woman who wants to kiss him.”
“Kiss him?”
“He’s terrified of her.”
�
��Kiss him?” Tom said in a softer voice than his wife’s.
“I don’t know what it means. Did you ever get the impression that Harris was involved in some sort of group?”
“You’re talking devil worship, aren’t you?” Roberta demanded. “Are you listening to her, Tom? She’s saying our son was involved in devil worship!”
Tom looked evenly at Bonnie. “Are you saying that?”
“I don’t know what I’m saying, or what to think. I’m just worried about Evan. I thought you might be able to help.”
“Stabbing Harris in the back won’t help anything,” Roberta said.
Tom shushed her. Bonnie finished her coffee. She was getting nowhere with the Laws. It had been silly to bring the subject up at all. Roberta was unwilling to accept that Harris was capable of anything untoward, and Bonnie couldn’t blame her. She didn’t believe it herself.
“Well, I had better be going.”
Roberta said nothing. Tom led her from the table to the front door. On the steps he said, “You know, I don’t know if there’s anything to what you’re asking, but I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Thanks, Tom. I’m sorry if I ruined your breakfast.”
“Nonsense. Come by any time.”
“I appreciate you agreeing to look after Evan during the days. It won’t be for long. Until I get something worked out.”
“Our pleasure. See you later. And don’t worry. He’s safe here, in mind and in body.”
Bonnie climbed into the car. A movement upstairs caught her attention, and when she looked up she saw Evan standing at a window, hand pressed to the glass, staring at her. He looked so small and helpless, and frightened.
She waved at him. He waved once, then disappeared.
Bonnie started the car and drove away.
The morning went quickly for Bonnie. There was a lot of work to catch up on. In the few days she had been gone, receiving had fallen way behind. There were twenty unopened boxes in the back room, including a huge mass-market shipment from NAL and three boxes of special orders from Baker and Taylor. A lot of work.
She spent the morning running from the back of the store to the front, taking care of the sporadic customers, while Mike stayed in his office catching up on accounts-payable.
It was good to be back at work. Her mind was off of Evan, off of his fears, off of all of it. She could almost imagine that her life had returned to normal, that she had nothing to worry about at all.
She broke for lunch at 12:30. The sun had come out in the midmorning, and she walked along the street to a Dairy Bar a block away. She ordered a cheeseburger and a milk shake, and sat outside in the shade.
The streets were busy. College kids finishing up their summer courses dawdled in the stores. Bonnie loved the feel of it.
She had finished her burger, and was halfway through her milk shake, when she noticed the man on the other side of the street. Actually, she had noticed him earlier, standing in the door of a record store with his back turned to her. He was wearing a white shirt, open collar, and blue slacks. Now he was standing in front of a men’s clothing store, studying a mannequin. Pretending to study a mannequin.
He was watching her. She knew that as surely as she knew her name was Bonnie Laine. He had followed her from the store.
The cheeseburger and shake turned into a solid lump in her stomach.
He can’t be watching me, she thought.
She forced herself to turn away, to face the other way, to relax, and finished her milk shake. When she turned back again, he was still there.
She bit down on a gasp.
Oh, God.
Leaving the empty cup and wrapper on the outside table, she stood slowly, and began to walk back toward the store. Across the street, the man in the white shirt walked in the same direction.
She was at least a couple of minutes away from the store. What if he crossed and came toward her? She could scream. That would frighten him off. She could start screaming right now, sort of a preemptive strike.
No, no, don’t be ridiculous.
When she reached the bookstore, he was even with her across the street. From the front counter, she watched as he stepped into a jewelry store. She could see him in there, watching her.
“You back already?”
She jumped as Mike came up behind her.
“Hey! Calm down! What’s wrong?”
She was shaking. She could not speak.
“Jesus, Bonnie, go sit down, take a breather. You still got twenty minutes.”
“I’m being followed.”
“Followed? By whom?”
“He went into the jewelry store. He was watching me eat lunch. He followed me back.”
Mike peered out the window, at the jewelry store. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“This have something to do with your kid?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What else could it be?”
Mike took her arm and led her to the back of the store. “Call the cops, right now. No sense in letting this get any worse, is there?”
She shook her head. Mike went up front. Bonnie opened up her purse and found Peterson’s card. She dialed his number, and after a short delay got through to him. He calmed her. He told her not to go to the front of the store. He’d be there in a few minutes.
Bonnie waited. She felt sick. She told Mike what Peterson had said.
“I’ll send him back when he gets here.”
It was fifteen minutes before Peterson arrived. He came to the back room and leaned on the receiving counter.
“How are you feeling?”
“Frightened.”
“I checked the jewelry store. Nobody there. Clerk doesn’t remember anybody coming in.”
“I saw him go in. I saw him down by the Dairy Bar, too.”
“He couldn’t just have been a shopper?”
“No.”
“What did he do that made you think he was following you?”
What had he done? Bonnie could hardly remember any more.
“I saw him three times. Three different times. He was always across from me.”
“Maybe you were walking in the same direction?”
Bonnie closed her eyes. He was right. “I feel really stupid.”
“Don’t. Better safe than sorry.” He didn’t sound like he meant it.
“I’ve been so on edge, with Evan.”
“You don’t have to explain to me. Call me again if anything happens. Will you do that?”
When Peterson left she went up to the front. Mike would not look at her. She sensed his confusion. His best employee was turning into a loony.
“Just a mistake,” she said.
“Happens all the time. I’ll be in back.”
Alone at the front, she sat down. What was happening to her?
She was lost in thought when the door opened, and the bell tinkled. Startled, she jumped to her feet with a cry. The young woman who had entered the store let out a cry herself at Bonnie’s reaction.
It was too much. Bonnie ran to the back, got Mike, and proceeded to sob.
Chapter Nine
Evan’s room upstairs was a theme-park with him as the theme. The bed was a double, covered in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle quilt that Grandma had sewn together herself. The walls, where they weren’t hung with posters of dinosaurs or spaceships, were set with shelves laden with toys and books. Fifteen different Lego sets elbowed for room beside a full set of The Children’s Encyclopedia, which was pushing at the sides of a deluxe electronic keyboard, which sat below the entire Hardy Boys collection, which led right into a set of airplane models, two of them still shrink-wrapped. In one corner sat a bright red six-inch reflector telescope that Grandpa had helped him to make, although he’d painted the tube all by himself, and in the other corner sat a twenty-one-inch color television and a VCR.
He hated the room.
He hated it because it wasn’t like his own room that Dad had helped him set up, with its single post
er-map of the moon on the wall facing the door, and the small bookcase full of his favorites. And it wasn’t anything like the room Mom had given him which was empty except for the smell of the paints, which made strange and wonderful pictures appear in his head, just like Mom said.
This room was nobody’s room. It was for a kid right out of a Toy World catalog.
But he stayed up there the whole morning, flipping through the S volume of the encyclopedia, poring over the articles about Snakes, Space, and Spiders. By the time Grandma called him down for lunch it was after 1:00, and his stomach was growling.
“Well, if it isn’t little Mister Antisocial,” Grandma said.
She was standing at the stove, flipping grilled cheese sandwiches already too dark and crisp to be any good.
“Leave the boy alone,” Grandpa said from the table. He was reading a magazine, but he kept glancing suspiciously at the sandwiches on the griddle.
“I was just reading.”
“All morning?”
“The encyclopedia.”
“You should be outside playing. At least you’ve got a nice yard to play in here, you should take advantage of it.”
He sensed the attack on his mother in the suggestion, and he bridled at it.
“There’s a park right across from Mom’s house.”
“Surely not as nice as this.”
“It’s got swings and climbing bars and a baseball diamond.”
“Well, how nice.”
“Robbie, serve those damned sandwiches before they turn into charcoal!”
Grandma harrumphed and lifted the sandwiches on to plates. She cut hers and Grandpa’s in half, but cut Evan’s into five triangular pieces and arranged them into a little house. Evan eyed the structure distastefully.
“Can I have some ketchup?”
“That will just cover the taste.”
“I like it.”
“Give the boy some ketchup. I think I’ll have some myself.”
Evan ate slowly, nibbling away at the corners of the sandwich. The bread was dry and crisp, the cheese hardened. Even the ketchup wouldn’t soften it. Grandma didn’t touch hers. She just watched him and Grandpa eat.
“Evan,” she said carefully, “has your mother been telling you anything bad about your dad?”
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