Too Far

by Jason Starr

  Then I saw the gray-haired guy go over to Anthony’s sister and say something to her. I’d met his sister for the first time several minutes earlier when I’d told her how sorry I was for her loss.

  Shawn and I weren’t planning to go to the cemetery.

  ‘Wanna get going?’ I asked him.

  ‘Sure,’ he said, ‘how ’bout ten minutes?’

  I was chatting with Shawn and Maggie, sharing our favorite Anthony stories, when I heard:

  ‘Jack Harper?’

  Anthony’s sister had come over to me. Her eyes were reddish from crying, but she looked more angry than upset.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t make the connection before when you came over,’ she said. ‘Who invited you here?’

  She was talking loud. Shawn and Maggie were overhearing us, and so were several other people nearby.

  I didn’t think I’d ever felt more embarrassed and awkward.

  ‘I read about it on Facebook,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to be here to support –’

  ‘If I wanted you here, I would’ve invited you myself!’

  Her tone had gone from raised to full-blown screaming. Now more people, maybe the whole funeral home, were our audience.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘I didn’t mean –’

  ‘If it wasn’t for you, Anthony would still be alive.’

  ‘That isn’t true –’

  ‘How’s it not true?’

  I hesitated, then said, ‘Because I…’

  ‘He was my fucking brother, you asshole! Now he’s gone! He’s fucking gone!’

  The gray-haired guy came over and pulled her away, then a few other people got between us.

  I couldn’t leave the funeral home fast enough, and Shawn wanted to get away too.

  When we got back in the Zip Car, I was distracted by my thoughts and didn’t say anything. The scene at the funeral home – getting yelled at, with everyone watching – still felt surreal, like theater. I guess I was a little in shock.

  Shawn, driving, didn’t say anything either until we were passing LaGuardia Airport, almost back in the city.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me Anthony was working for you?’ He sounded like he was releasing pent-up anger, like he’d been trying to figure out how to bring this up with me since we’d left Smithtown.

  ‘He wasn’t actually working for me,’ I said.

  ‘So you didn’t hire him?’

  For some reason, I felt guilty.

  ‘He was doing me a favor,’ I said.

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell me, man?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I guess I didn’t think it was important.’

  ‘You didn’t think it was important I know how my friend died?’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I said. ‘Come on, give me a break, man.’

  Shawn maintained a serious glare for the rest of the trip.

  When he dropped me off near my apartment in Manhattan, things were still awkward. When I got out of the car, he drove away without saying goodbye.

  At home, I couldn’t shake my guilty feeling, like I’d done something wrong. Maybe it was because I’d been lying when I’d told Shawn that I’d told the police everything I knew. Actually, I hadn’t.

  I still had about an hour before I had to pick up Jonah from school, so I sat on a bench in the garden of a church and did some searching on my phone. On our Verizon bill, I checked the numbers of calls and texts for the past couple of weeks, but nothing seemed unusual. Then I checked the recent history on our credit cards and Chase bank account. Nothing unusual there either.

  At school pickup, a couple of Jonah’s friends and their moms were headed to 16 Handles for frozen yogurt. I asked Jonah if he wanted to go with them, but, still acting sullen and not himself, he said he just wanted to go home.

  ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to go if you don’t feel like it,’ I said, wanting him to know that I respected his emotions.

  At home, I hung out with Jonah, watching TV.

  From her office, Maria texted: stopping @ whole foods after work we need eggs?

  I checked the fridge, saw we had an almost full carton of eggs.

  Sent: No we’re good

  She replied, Okay, leaving in few. Be home half hour!

  Back on the couch next to Jonah, he asked, ‘When can we see Return of the Jedi?’

  ‘Soon,’ I said.

  It was great to see Jonah excited about something, getting his mojo back. Kids – they were so resilient.

  A couple of minutes later, I remembered that there was one credit card account I hadn’t checked – a Discover Card that we rarely used.

  I didn’t carry the card with me in my wallet. We had a filing cabinet in the hallway closet where we kept our important papers, documents, and correspondence. In the ‘credit card’ file I found my card which had expired about three years ago. I didn’t think I’d gotten a replacement card so maybe I’d deactivated the card and didn’t remember it. I was going to forget the whole thing, then I decided I’d call Discover to see if a new card had been sent to me.

  I waited on hold for a while, and then the representative, a man with an Indian accent, picked up. I explained the situation and gave him my card number and name.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he said, ‘but you’re no longer on this account.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘The only name on the account is Maria Harper.’

  ‘That’s my wife, but there has to be a mistake,’ I said, ‘that account was in both our names.’

  He asked me to hold. Then he returned and said, ‘Your name was removed from the account, sir. Maria Harper is the primary account holder and she removed you.’

  This seemed off, but did it mean anything?

  ‘Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘thank you so much.’

  I figured I’d ask Maria about the account later, or sometime soon. Then I had another idea. Just because my name had been taken off the account, didn’t mean I couldn’t log on.

  On my phone, I went to Discover.com online and tried logging on with my old password. Sure enough, the account information appeared.

  I was surprised to see that the card had been used actively. Since Maria paid the bills, I could also see how this had been easy for her to hide. I was shocked to see hotel bills, restaurant bills, and bills from stores like Victoria’s Secret and The Pink Pussycat, a sex shop in the West Village.

  What the fuck? Had I accessed the wrong account? Was there some mistake?’

  I checked recent transactions – there were seven transactions listed, all within the past few weeks.

  Six of the charges were for ‘Business Services,’ and the other was for $159.96 at Bloomingdales.

  Business Services? What the hell?

  One of the ‘Business Services’ charges was for $69. Four of the others were for $20. The others were for $10.

  Wait, $69? The date of the charge, and the other charges, were from a few weeks ago, around the time I’d joined Discreet Hookups. Could it just be a coincidence?

  I was too surprised, and had too much adrenaline pumping, to contemplate all of the implications. I went online and checked the transactions for the Visa card that I’d used for my Discreet Hookups membership, and sure enough there was a ‘Business Services’ charge of $69, and additional charges from when I’d purchased credits.

  Okay, so Maria had been on Discreet Hookups; but what did this mean? Did she go on to check up on me, to spy anonymously? But why had she kept it a secret, especially after I’d become a murder suspect?

  The other charge at Bloomingdales didn’t seem significant.

  Or was it?

  I checked the Discover transactions again and saw that
the transaction had occurred fourteen days ago.

  The day Sophie Ward was murdered.

  23

  Maybe I was in deep denial, but I still didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I kept thinking, Maybe there’s some explanation for all of this, something I don’t understand. After all, less than a minute ago, I’d been convinced that I was paranoid about everything, and my opinions tended to change rapidly, especially lately.

  I called Bloomingdales. It took a while before I could speak with the proper person, but she gave me all of the information I needed.

  Next, I logged on to Discreet Hookups. All of my chats with ‘FUGITIVE_RED’ were still there. In a Word file, I created a timeline of all of my chats.

  ‘Hey.’

  Maria was standing in the doorway to the bedroom. I immediately clicked away the file, returning to the home screen. I didn’t think she had seen.

  ‘Hey, how are you?’ I asked, trying to sound natural.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ I said. ‘Just, um, checking out some possible work leads.’

  ‘Great,’ she said. ‘How was the funeral?’

  Odd question. How was any funeral?

  ‘Sad. Bleak.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’re glad you went. I bought a chicken and some sides. Are you hungry?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I mean yes. Sounds great.’

  During dinner, the focus was mainly on Jonah, which was fine with me. I had a lot on my mind and I felt way more comfortable talking to Jonah than Maria. I realized halfway through the meal that I wasn’t making enough eye contact with Maria. This was bad because I didn’t want her to think that anything was wrong, so I made a conscious effort to look at her.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘You keep staring at me.’

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realize.’

  As I helped clear the table, I announced, ‘I think I’m going to hit an AA meeting.’

  ‘Great.’ Maria gave me a sexy look, biting on her lower lip a little. ‘I’ll help Jonah with his homework, then maybe we can rendezvous in bed later.’

  She kissed me. Although my instinct was to pull back, I didn’t.

  I wasn’t planning to go to AA, though.

  Instead, I cabbed it downtown to East 32nd Street, to Lawrence and Sophie’s townhouse. There was a For Sale sign in front from, you guessed it, Wolf Realty. I had to smile, though I wasn’t in a humorous mood. I walked up and down the block several times, taking pictures here and there with my iPhone. Then I returned to the townhouse and took some pics.

  Back home, I went on Verizon’s website and tried to log on to Maria’s account. I thought it would take a while, or perhaps it would be impossible, to guess her password, but it turned out to be one I knew she used frequently. The log of her phone calls seemed to confirm that I was right about everything.

  I still didn’t want to believe it, though. I needed to be one hundred percent, and there was only one way I could get to one hundred percent:

  A confession.

  * * *

  When Maria joined me in bed later, I didn’t want to have sex with her. I didn’t want to get her paranoid or suspicious either.

  Lying side by side we kissed for a while, then she climbed on top, kissing me some more. I couldn’t get excited; fight or flight kicking in?

  ‘I’m just tired,’ I said. ‘I was up early and it was a long day.’

  After a long period of silence she said, ‘You think I’m sexy, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I think you’re sexy,’ I said.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I know in these situations the worst thing you can do is take it personally, so I won’t.’

  We fell asleep the way we’d slept during most of our marriage – facing opposite directions.

  * * *

  Although I couldn’t sleep for most of the night, I woke energized, fixated on what I had to do.

  I dropped Jonah at school then I spent the day preparing for my talk with Maria. I needed to get Jonah out of the apartment, so I called Carly, our sitter, to see if I could drop him at her parents’ apartment for a couple of hours. Carly was busy, had a test to study for, but when I told her I’d pay her an extra hundred, her schedule suddenly freed.

  ‘Definitely,’ she said. ‘I can watch him the whole night if you want me too.’

  I told her that two hours should be fine.

  Later, after school, Jonah was on his bed, playing a video game.

  ‘Come on, get your shoes on,’ I said, ‘you’re going to Carly’s.’

  Surprised, maybe worried, he asked, ‘How come?’

  ‘Because Mommy and Daddy want to spend some time alone together, that’s why.’

  ‘But I don’t wanna go.’

  ‘You have no choice.’

  There was no way I was going to put Jonah in front of another round of drama, especially when I had no idea how my talk with Maria would go.

  After I dropped him with Carly on the sixteenth floor, I returned to our apartment and waited for Maria to come home. I activated the record feature on my cell phone, and placed my phone on the dining table.

  When she arrived, holding a few heavy-looking paper shopping bags from Whole Foods, she said, ‘Hey, can you give me some help? These are heavy.’

  I took the bags from her and brought them into the kitchen.

  ‘I probably bought too much stuff, but I want to start cooking more,’ she said. Then she looked beyond me, into the living room, and asked, ‘Is Jonah in his room?’

  ‘No, I brought him to Carly’s.’

  ‘Carly’s?’ She seemed confused. ‘Why?

  ‘I just thought it would be nice to have some time alone,’ I said. ‘You know, just to talk.’

  Maria seemed skeptical, like she didn’t buy this explanation, and assumed I had to have some kind of hidden agenda.

  ‘A talk, huh?’ she said. ‘What do you want to talk about?’

  Did she suspect that I suspected her? Was she going to confront me when the whole point of this was for me to have a chance to confront her?

  ‘Nothing in particular,’ I said.

  ‘About what?’ she said, as she put the milk and yogurts away in the fridge.

  ‘We should probably sit down,’ I said.

  ‘You’re making this sound so serious,’ she said. ‘Should I be concerned?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said.

  I waited on the couch until she put the frozen food away. Then she joined me.

  ‘Hey, just realized, Jonah’s out of the house.’ She put a hand on my thigh. ‘Maybe we should talk in bed. We haven’t had the apartment to ourselves since you came home from Bellevue.’

  I pushed her hand away.

  ‘What’s going on with you?’ she asked.

  ‘A lot, actually,’ I said.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘The evening Sophie Ward was killed,’ I said. ‘Where were you?’

  I hadn’t meant to blurt out this question, but I couldn’t unsay it.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Maria said, seeming surprised, not shocked. ‘Why are you asking me this?’

  ‘We just never discussed this, that’s all,’ I said. ‘I’m just wondering where you were.’

  ‘For what purp –?’ she cut herself off, then said, ‘Wait, you don’t think I had something to do with it, do you?’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘This is a joke, right?’ she said. ‘A bad joke. You don’t actually mean this?’

  ‘I spoke to Carly when I dropped Jonah off tonight,’ I said. ‘She said on the night Sophie was murdered you had asked her to watch Jonah for a couple of hours.’

  ‘I had some chores to do aro
und the neighborhood,’ Maria said. ‘I can’t believe you actually –’

  ‘You were fucking Lawrence Ward, weren’t you?’ I said.

  Looking panicked, she said, ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘I saw the phone records from Verizon,’ I said. ‘It took me a long time to figure out your password, but I knew it would be some version of your mother’s maiden name.’

  ‘I don’t know why you’re doing this,’ she said, ‘trying to make up a story when everything’s been going so well.’

  ‘I have evidence,’ I said. ‘There are hundreds of calls to him.’

  ‘Lawrence Ward was a client of our company. We were discussing business.’

  ‘You really expect me to believe that he was your client, and it was just a coincidence that his wife wound up dead?’

  ‘Well, it had nothing to do with me,’ she said.

  For an instant, I thought, Was it possible? Had I gotten it all wrong?

  It was incredible how she could always get me to doubt reality and my own instincts.

  ‘You have to stop digging,’ she said. ‘Let’s just go on with our lives.’

  She tried to grab my hand again.

  I stood and said, ‘Stop with the bullshit already. I know everything. This is why you took me back, isn’t it? Forgiveness, my ass. You just wanted to make sure Lawrence didn’t tell me anything about you before he died. That’s why you wanted your lawyer with me while I was answering Barasco’s questions. What if Lawrence did tell me something? What would you have done?’

  ‘You know what I think you should do?’ Maria said. ‘I think you should call your psychiatrist at Bellevue and describe these symptoms. You’re acting extremely paranoid and unstable right now, Jack.’

  ‘I also noticed some credit card charges,’ I said, ‘on our Discover Card – well, it used to be our card anyway. I know you were on Discreet Hookups, just like I was. At first I thought you were just checking up on me, but there was another charge on the same card for one hundred and fifty-nine dollars and ninety-six cents. The transaction occurred at three thirty-eight p.m. on the day Sophie Ward was killed.’