Devil's Spring

by Aaron Lazar

  “Right, Rosita?”

  The maid turned to smile. “Si, Miss Lollie.”

  “Okay, then. I’m going up to shower and change. I’ll be down in a bit.” She waltzed out of the room, feeling happy for the first time in months. This was going to work out, after all.

  Chapter 26

  Two weeks later, they’d settled into a routine of sorts. Colby couldn’t say he exactly loved it, but it was keeping Lollie happy. And when Lollie was happy, the household was happy.

  He came out of the shower Sunday evening to find his wife and the two babies already settled in their bed. She grinned and blew him a kiss, knowing he wasn’t thrilled with this arrangement.

  “Join, us, sweetums.”

  He sighed. Another night of Disney movies and jabs of little elbows and knees in his back.

  Life as he knew it had changed, and for now, he’d just given up hope of resuming relations with Lollie. Oh, sure, she’d tossed him a few bones in the morning or afternoon when the children were sleeping. But he didn’t feel her heart was in it, and she refused to make love in the bed anymore. It had to be in the shower, with him sitting on the hard plastic seat.

  The first time it was exciting, exotic even. They’d never done that before. But after the second and third time, he’d felt rushed. And that had made him stressed. And this morning, when she’d basically rammed herself on top of him, he’d almost lost his erection.

  Damn, she was a beautiful woman. He’d always thought that. But the rest of her—like her up and down moods—was still hard to bear.

  If he was honest with himself, he had to admit she’d conned him two years ago when he’d fallen for her sweet ways and demure attitude. He had to admit, he’d mostly fallen in love with her looks. She was voluptuous and so very pretty. But then there were her odd ways. Her mood swings were more like unscheduled rages. It was so odd and unsettling.

  But by now, he was used to odd.

  He dried his hair with a towel and brushed his teeth.

  Yeah, she’d bamboozled him, all right.

  And her parents had seen it coming, but hadn’t said a word. He figured they’d been glad to get rid of her with her crazy ways and made up stories.

  Half of what she’d told him about her childhood had been fabricated. She’d even imagined she’d been pregnant and lost three babies this year. She’d moped around the house as if in mourning, and he’d had to put her in the Sea Breeze Home for a month before she came out of it.

  Adopting the kids had been good for her, but sometimes he felt guilty about that, too. Was it good for the children? What would happen the next time they threw a tantrum? Or when they were teenagers?

  He pulled on his pajamas and headed to the now darkened bedroom, where all three of them took up the whole bed.

  “Lollie?”

  She lay with her eyes closed and arms stretched over the children, snoring softly.

  He rolled his eyes, sighed loudly, and grabbed his pillow.

  “Kicked out of my own bed,” he grumbled.

  He scuffed along the hall to the guest room. Closing the door, he settled onto the too-hard bed and clicked on the television.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad. At least he could watch whatever he wanted tonight.

  He clicked into Netflix and found The L Word, which he secretly watched whenever Lollie wasn’t awake. He loved the excitement of peeking into another world that he’d never even heard about as a youth. The girls were pretty, and the characters were fascinating. Of course, Lollie’d assume he watched it for the sex. And he did love that part. But he liked the stories of the girls, too.

  When he’d gone through three episodes, he switched to the local channel to catch the news. He hadn’t watched it in a long time, ever since the night after the children arrived and Lollie brought them into their bed. He wondered what was happening in the world, and barely caught two minutes on the radio on the way to work most mornings.

  More terrorist attacks. More identity thefts. More boring politicians begging for his vote.

  He sighed and reached for the remote. “Nothing’s changed. Guess I didn’t miss a thing.”

  But before he clicked off, another story came on. It showed a family from Vermont begging for the return of their little children. His heart went out for them.

  “Three weeks ago, this family was duped by a cunning thief,” the black reporter began. “Under the guise of a modeling agency, a mother and son team kidnapped two young children. The family has been in agony ever since, and pleads with anyone who may know details of this event to come forward.”

  The scene flashed to a cobbled up video of farmland, a humble looking home, and what must be the grandparents on a porch, looking out at the mountains. Next it panned to horses in a field and a young couple standing side by side, looking worn out.

  The reporter continued. “Two couples lost their children in this event. In this clip, we hear Anderson and Grace Rockwell pleading for the return of their little girl, Caroline.”

  The screen filled with the images of two devastated faces. The man was tall and sandy haired, the woman blonde and beautiful. “Please,” the man said. “If you have any knowledge of Vikki and Truman Wheedle, contact the police. And if you’ve seen our baby Caroline,” his voice cracked and he stopped to gain control. “Please contact Agent Katrina Walsh at 555-444-3000.” The woman next to him held up a large photo of their daughter.

  Colby’s heart skipped a beat.

  It couldn’t be.

  All babies looked alike, right?

  He stared at the screen, and then the other couple was shown. Boone and Portia Hawke made the same plea for their son. And when they zoomed in on the photo of little Joey Hawke, he sat straight up in bed.

  “No way. No freakin’ way.” He pulled the pillow over his head and moaned.

  Chapter 27

  Two nights later, Colby woke to the sound of screaming. He still wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room and had to take a moment to orient himself.

  What the hell was that? Had he dreamed it?

  No, he heard the children crying.

  “Go to sleep, you goddamn little brat!”

  Oh, God. Not Lollie. Not again.

  He threw back the covers and ran down the hall in his boxer shorts, bursting into their bedroom suite. “Lollie!”

  Lollie held Scarlett in her arms. The baby was screaming. Rhett sat on his knees on the bed, his face registering shock and horror. Tears streamed down his face.

  “Lollie!”

  Her red face contorted and her lips pulled back into a hateful sneer. The vile language that spilled from her mouth made him shudder.

  “Get out of here, you judgmental son of a bitch. I’m handling it. I'm a good mother!”

  No, he thought, you’re a queen bitch and you’re traumatizing these kids.

  “Lollie. You need to calm down. They’re just children. They don’t know any better.”

  Now Rhett reached for him, his little arms shaking. Colby reached down to take him, but she rushed between them and shoved Colby backwards, so hard that he almost fell.

  “Get away from him! He’s my son and I’ll take care of him. He just needs to learn his lesson.”

  “Baba?” the boy cried. Colby hadn’t heard him use this term since he’d arrived, and he feared he was regressing, asking for his bottle.

  “I’ll take him in with me,” Colby offered gently. “Let me help you.”

  Her voice rose to such a fevered pitch he almost had to cover his ears.

  “NO! You think I’m a terrible mother. I’m a good mother!”

  Slowly, he advanced toward Rhett, wishing he could grab both children and run.

  Lollie started sobbing and screaming at the same time. “You never…trusted…me!”

  “Honey, of course I trust you. I just think it might be better if we both work at this.” He gathered his courage. He couldn’t let her bully him another second, not when the welfare of children was at stake.
Boldly, he stepped forward. “I’m taking Rhett,” he said. This time she didn’t lunge at him. He lifted the quaking child into his hands and grabbed his cuppy. The boy plastered himself against Colby’s chest. “Mama. Dada.”

  Rosita appeared in the doorway in her white nightgown, her face a mask of concern. “Miss Lollie? Everything okay in here?”

  Lollie’s head snapped in her direction, and he saw her try to control her fury. That was one thing he could count on, because she rarely showed her true self to “the help.”

  He nodded to Rosita. “You want Rosita to take Scarlett for the rest of the night? Then you could get some sleep, darling. I know you must be exhausted.”

  “I am exhausted.” Stifling her sobs, Lollie dropped into the armchair by the window, trying to calm Scarlett. “There, there. Mommy’s here.”

  Colby gestured Rosita closer. Slowly, they both approached her.

  With a sniffle and pout, she finally held the crying child out to Rosita. When safely in the maid’s arms, her crying slowed, finally stopping altogether.

  “You get some sleep now, dear.” He backed out of the door and made sure Rosita got to her own apartment before he went back to the guest room.

  Back in the guest room, Colby settled the boy on the bed near the wall. He placed pillows on the bottom of the bed so if he shifted toward the bottom he wouldn’t fall off. “Are you okay, little fella?” He stroked the boy’s damp hair back from his face and patted his little hand. “It’ll be okay. Want to watch a show?”

  He flicked through Netflix and chose “Finding Nemo,” one of Rhett’s new favorites. The boy loved the shark scenes and often asked for them over and over again.

  Nemo squeaked from the television and Rhett settled back on the pillow with his Sippy cup tucked under his arm.

  How much had Lollie damaged Rhett? Would he be traumatized for life? Or would he even remember this?

  What should he do?

  Now that he knew these babies weren’t legitimately theirs, he’d been struggling how to break the news to Lollie. He knew every second of delay would translate to seconds of agony for the poor parents. And he hated himself for being so weak, for putting off the decision. But it was time. And Lollie needed to get help. Serious help.

  But every time he imagined telling her, he knew she’d fly off the handle again, maybe even hurt the children in the process. So how could he do it safely?

  He wondered if Rosita had seen the news yet. He thought she was staring at the children in a curious way this morning, her head tilted, as if she were trying to convince herself they couldn’t be the kidnapped babies.

  So he had to act fast. He couldn’t let her report it, or they might be charged as accomplices or something worse. It had to come from him. And he had to do it soon.

  The boy’s eyes flickered once, twice, and finally closed.

  He caressed the child’s cheek with the back of his hand, feeling so sorry for him. “Goodnight, Rhett.” Shaking his head, he corrected himself. “No. Goodnight, little Joey.”

  ∞∞∞

  Lollie wiped her cheeks and flopped onto the bed.

  Alone.

  Depressed.

  Alone.

  She longed for the children now, their soft, warm bodies beside her. She pictured their sweet faces, their adorable laughs.

  Then the anger returned.

  How dare he? How DARE Colby question her mothering abilities? He was just a fat slob who brought in the bacon. He should do as she said, listen to her. She was the woman. She knew children.

  The thought slammed into her so rapidly, she blinked.

  He has to go.

  She sat straight up in bed, her eyes wide. Her lips pursed.

  He has to go.

  She pondered the idea with growing enthusiasm.

  Yes...Yes! Why should she have to endure his sweaty body on top of hers any more? Why put up with his constant criticism? She could live her life the way she wanted if he were…gone.

  She warmed even more to the thought.

  How would she do it?

  It had to happen on a day Rosita was off duty. It had to look like an accident, because she needed the money, the house, and the cars. She wanted it all. And she wanted him gone.

  “I can play a grieving widow,” she said aloud, then looked around nervously. She had to watch out for Rosita. That woman was good at sneaking up on her.

  She took another Xanax and opened her laptop. In the search bar, she entered, “untraceable poison.” Hundreds of hits came up. She wanted to click on one, but got nervous.

  Could the police check her searches?

  She went up to the tools menu and erased all of her history.

  But was it really erased? Or could some fourteen-year-old geek dive deep into the hard drive and find a record of it?

  Panicking now, she took the laptop into the bathroom and set it in the tub, filling it with water. They’d never trace it to her now. And she’d put the equipment in the trash in the morning. Tomorrow was trash day, she thought with a relieved sigh. It would be gone long before she actually killed him.

  She’d have to find another way. Something that couldn’t be traced to her, no matter what.

  She might not have gone to college, but she was clever. More clever than most other women out there. She’d snagged Colby, hadn’t she? And now she could snag his millions.

  Chapter 28

  Colby walked into the bedroom where Lollie lay asleep and set her steaming coffee mug on the nightstand. At the window, he looked down to see Rosita pushing the double stroller toward the road. Almost there. Almost beyond shouting distance.

  She’d been a little surprised when he asked her to take the children for a walk before breakfast, but after they prepared a bottle for Scarlett and had filled Rhett’s Sippy cup with milk, she’d packed a bag of dry cheerios and some Arrow cookies for the children and had headed out with a diaper bag on her shoulder.

  “I need at least an hour, Rosita. Two would be better. Can you manage that?”

  Rosita looked worried. “Si. But what about the coffee for Lollie? What about her breakfast?”

  “I’ll take care of it. I just need a little time alone with her.”

  Rosita blushed and lowered her eyes. “Oh. I see.”

  Colby had choked on a laugh. “Oh, no! That’s not what I meant. I just need to have a discussion with her. You know, without children wandering about.”

  Relief flooded her face. “Okay, Mister Colby. I will take them to the park.”

  He stuffed a twenty in her hand. “And if you want, stop at the coffee shop and buy yourself a muffin or something. Rhett might like one, too. And you can lay out the Cheerios for Scarlett.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Si, Mister Colby.”

  He knew she’d been uncomfortable, and she was probably worried about the wrath of Lollie like he was. She never went against Lollie’s rules or routines, and this was breaking the rules big time.

  The maid and stroller disappeared onto the sidewalk.

  Good.

  Lollie stirred.

  His heartbeat kicked up a notch, and he sat on the side of the bed. “Hey, beautiful.” He stroked the hair on her forehead, to be rewarded with her pushing his hand away.

  “I’m not even awake yet, Colby. Leave me alone.”

  “Just saying good morning, sweetums.”

  “What time is it?” One eye cracked open and she suddenly sat up and looked around nervously. “Where are the children?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned.

  “They’re with Rosita. And it’s seven. Did you get a good rest?”

  She leaned back against her pillow. “I guess.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  She glanced sideways toward the mug. “What? In here? Why not downstairs like usual?”

  He just smiled. “I want to talk with you. Without the kids or Rosita listening, you know?”

  Disgust washed over her fac
e. “Oh, great. You want to get it on before I’ve even brushed my teeth?” She rolled her eyes and reached for the coffee.

  “No, I’m not after sex, Lollie. I just want to talk. It’s important.”

  “Sure it’s important, Colby. What’s it about? Another benefit to plan? Another trip to Bermuda? What’s so damned important that it can’t wait until I’m up and dressed?”

  “It’s about the children, Lollie.”

  Now he had her attention. Her eyes narrowed. “What about my children?”

  He noticed she emphasized the “my,” which she’d been doing lately. In the beginning, she’d call them “theirs.” This was going to be even harder than he imagined.

  He stood and turned on the television. The news should still be on the morning shows. “You need to see something.”

  “You want me to watch goddamn television? What’s that got to do with Scarlett and Rhett?”

  She was starting to get pissed off, and he hurriedly searched through the channels until he hit the local morning show. The weather lady stood in a bright green dress, pointing to a screen behind her. “Just a second, dear.”

  She stood up and stomped toward him. “Give me that remote.”

  He handed it to her. “But it’ll just take a second.”

  She muted the volume. “What the hell is this about, Colby?” Fury began to spark from her eyes.

  “Okay. I guess I’ll just have to tell you. You’d better sit down.”

  She grabbed his wrist and twisted. “I don’t WANT to sit down. You tell me. You tell me right now!”

  He pulled back from her, surprised at the level of her malice, which was much worse than usual. Where was her morning niceness? Had she always just pretended to be glad to see him? And if so, why wasn’t she pretending today?

  “Lollie, the adoption was a sham. We were duped.”

  “A sham? What do you mean? You signed the papers, right?”

  “It was a fake. These children were kidnapped from a family in Vermont. I saw them on the television last night.”

  She laughed in his face. “Oh, sure. Our babies are from Vermont. Are you nuts? You’re paranoid. Besides, Miss Gilly flew in from Los Angeles, remember?”