“Oh, I think it will,” Jim said with confidence. “I’m pretty certain you’re going to change your mind.”
As he was speaking, Jim slid his free hand into the pocket of his jacket. When he drew it back out, I saw that his fingers were cupped around a small black object. It took me a moment to realize that he was holding a taser.
Sondra glanced at the weapon only briefly. Her lip lifted in a taunting sneer. “What are you going to do, Jim, tase me?” When he didn’t answer, she lifted a hand and gestured around the room. “Are you going to tase all of us?”
Aunt Peg took a prudent step back. I followed her lead and did the same.
My aunt is the bravest person I know. So now I was surprised when she purposely angled her body so that it was half-hidden behind mine. Surely Aunt Peg didn’t intend to use me as her shield?
Then all at once I realized there was a bigger problem. Poppy was by herself, alone and defenseless, on the other side of the small room. The only way I could get to her was to cross between Sondra and Jim, thereby drawing attention to us both. Under the circumstances, that seemed like a terrible idea. I could only hope that Jim wouldn’t be so depraved as to think about pointing the weapon at his own daughter.
“I bet you don’t even know how to use that thing,” Sondra scoffed. She was so intent upon goading her husband that she didn’t appear to care that the level of tension in the room was rising exponentially. “Where did you even get it from anyway?”
Jim lifted the taser and pointed it like a gun. I watched as his thumb slowly moved, sliding back the safety cover that hid the push button trigger.
“I keep it in the glove compartment of my car,” he said. “For protection. It’s been there for years. I always knew it would come in handy someday.”
“You mean like last Saturday?” I asked. “In Union Cemetery?”
Jim spared me a brief glance. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Platt and I had a deal. The dog in exchange for the money. I was ready to pay him what we’d agreed but at the last minute he decided he wanted to renegotiate.” Jim looked grim. “I don’t like it when people do that.”
“So you shot him,” I said.
“I only meant to frighten him. Scare him enough to make him hand over the dog. I’d never even used a taser before. It just went off.”
And yet he must have known enough to push aside the taser’s safety cover, I thought skeptically. Just as I’d watched him do a minute earlier.
“I saw Platt go down,” Jim said. “And I grabbed the dog and got out of there. I figured he’d only be incapacitated for a few minutes, then he’d get up and go home. I had no idea what happened after I left until I heard about it later on the news.”
“Who cares about that now?” Sondra said impatiently. “It was an accident. It’s over and done with.”
If she truly believed that, I thought, she had to be the only one who did. But Sondra’s focus was laser sharp. And she was only worried about one thing.
She stepped toward her husband and held out her hands. “Come on, Jim. Give Kiltie to me. We’re done here. It’s time for us to go in the house, sit down, and settle our differences like adults.”
Jim raised his arm and brought the Westie forward. For a few seconds, I thought he was going to do as she’d asked. Then Jim repositioned his other hand—the one grasping the taser—and I realized how wrong I was.
Instead of pointing outward, the weapon was now aimed squarely at Kiltie’s head.
“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” he said.
Poppy’s gasp sounded loud in the suddenly silent room. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as Sondra abruptly stopped moving. I saw her swallow heavily. For the first time since our arrival, Sondra appeared to be unsure about what to do next.
“You can’t tase Kiltie,” she said. “That’s animal cruelty. I know you wouldn’t do such a terrible thing.”
“I can do whatever I want,” Jim replied. “This dog means nothing to me.”
“But you said you wouldn’t hurt him!” Poppy’s plea ended on a strangled cry.
Jim spoke to his daughter, but his eyes never shifted away from Sondra’s stricken face. “Get a grip on yourself, Poppy. You’ll get your dog back—just as soon as your mother cooperates with me.”
“Do it, Mom.” The young girl sniffled. “Do what he wants. Please.”
“You bastard,” Sondra swore. “I can’t believe you would sink this low.”
“Believe it,” Jim said shortly. “We’ve been married long enough for me to know exactly what’s important to you. So if this dog lives or dies, it’s all on you. It’s your choice and nobody else’s.”
“Just put the taser away, Jim. Okay?” Sondra’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “Give Kiltie to me and we’ll talk.”
“We’re talking now,” Jim pointed out. “And our positions suit me fine. I brought some papers with me for you to sign. So you were right about one thing. We are going to settle our differences like adults. But we’re going to do it my way, not yours.”
“Jim, please, you have to listen to me—” Sondra stopped midsentence. She spun around and stared at the half-open door. If she had been a dog she would have pricked her ears.
A moment later I realized what Sondra had heard. It was the sound of sirens, at least two of them. They were wailing in tandem and growing steadily closer.
The McEvoys and I froze in place. Not Aunt Peg. Deliberately she stepped out from behind me. Staring hard at Jim, Peg lifted her hand and opened her fingers. Her cell phone was nestled in her palm.
“I called nine-one-one,” she said.
“Shit.”
Jim quickly snapped the taser’s protective cover quickly back into place. He shoved the weapon into his pocket and thrust Kiltie toward Sondra. She barely managed to catch the little terrier before he fell to the floor.
Finally reunited with his owner, Kiltie squirmed and wriggled in Sondra’s arms. As I watched the happy reunion, I realized that Aunt Peg hadn’t been using my body to shield her from danger, but rather to hide her movements as she hatched a plot of her own. I should have known.
Jim turned to his daughter. “Poppy, come quickly and stand with Mommy and Daddy. And for God’s sake, put a smile on your face. We’ll tell the officers nothing is wrong. We’ll convince them that the call was a mistake.”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand,” said Aunt Peg. “I didn’t make the call just now. The line’s been sitting open with an operator on the other end for the last ten minutes. That’s why the police are on their way. They heard everything you said, including the part about your accident with Jerry Platt. I didn’t summon them. The police are coming here because they want to talk to you.”
Jim’s face went pale. Sondra’s gaze flew wildly around the room as if she was looking for a means of escape. “Peg, surely you didn’t . . . you can’t mean . . .”
“Sondra,” her husband said ominously. “Shut the hell up. Right now.”
For once she took his advice. Sondra snapped her mouth shut and didn’t say another word. The glare she directed in Aunt Peg’s and my direction, however, spoke volumes.
Jim wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Come,” he said. “It will look better if we go out together to greet the police. Let me do all the talking. We’ll present a united front, shall we?”
Sondra just nodded.
The sound of the sirens was almost deafening now. The squad cars must have already entered the McEvoys’ driveway. Side by side, the couple walked out the kennel door. Neither spared a thought for Poppy. Eyes wide, the young girl watched them go.
“Ms. Travis,” she said, her voice quavering. “What’s happening?”
There was no good way to answer that question.
“The police need to talk to your parents,” I said finally.
“It’s about Kiltie, isn’t it?”
“Partly. And some other things, too.”
The child gazed toward the empty door
way where her parents had disappeared. Once again, her eyes were brimming with tears. “Am I in trouble?” she asked.
School rules be damned, I thought. I reached out and gathered Poppy into my arms for a long, hard, hug.
“No, honey,” I said softly. “You’re not in trouble.”
After a minute she pulled away. Poppy tipped her head back to look at me. “Daddy did something wrong, didn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so,” I told her. “But it had nothing to do with you.”
“I know that.” Poppy sighed. “It can’t be about me. It’s never about me.”
The girl’s whole world was falling apart, and the two adults who mattered most to her were only concerned with their vengeful negotiations over a pile of money. The McEvoy parents weren’t arguing about Poppy’s custody. Neither one of them had rallied to her side. It was as if Sondra and Jim’s only child was nothing more than an afterthought, a remnant left behind in the scattered rubble of their unraveling marriage.
That had to be about the saddest thing I’d ever heard.
Chapter 26
With Christmas only a week away and Bob and Claire’s wedding following shortly thereafter, I found myself spending the rest of December pondering the true nature of family. I reflected upon the significance of those innate bonds that hold us together—both the people we’re born related to and those whom we choose to add later.
My own family’s history is filled with its share of disruptions, deviations, and contentious behavior. Still there was something deeply troubling to me about Sondra and Jim McEvoy’s careless disregard for their only child’s feelings. Like Jim Platt, Poppy had gotten caught up in her parents’ marital warfare and ended up as collateral damage. In my mind, that was unforgiveable.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, I found out several days later that Poppy wouldn’t be returning to Howard Academy after Christmas break. Mr. Hanover called me at home to tell me that the McEvoys had enrolled their daughter at a fancy boarding school a hundred miles away. She’d be starting there when the new semester began.
“Her parents wanted Poppy removed from the current disturbance,” the headmaster told me. That man is ever handy with a euphemism. “They felt that sending her away was best for everyone involved.”
“Best for them, you mean.” I made no attempt to hide my displeasure. “Sondra and Jim barely paid any attention to her when she was right in front of them. Now they won’t have to think about her at all.”
I heard the headmaster sigh. “The decision is out of our hands.”
“I know that,” I retorted. “But it’s still wrong.”
“Ms. Travis,” Mr. Hanover said gently, “I applaud your energy, your empathy, and your conviction. They are all wonderful qualities to bring to your job. But much as you might wish to, you can’t save the whole world. None of us can.”
I knew that. But I still felt utterly defeated. More than anything I wished that I’d given Poppy more hugs when I’d had the chance.
As for Jim McEvoy, he hired himself a terrific lawyer, the best that money could buy. He and Sondra have cleaned up their act—at least in public. They’re still maintaining that all-important united front for the police, the media, and the judicial system. My cynical side is betting that Sondra is being compensated quite handsomely for her cooperation.
With Jim’s legal team playing all the angles, it’s beginning to look as though there won’t be a trial, much less a jail sentence, for the man who caused Jerry Platt’s death. While I’m relieved about that for Poppy’s sake, the outcome does leave me wishing that the rules for acceptable behavior weren’t different for the uber-rich than they are for everyone else.
Kiltie is back home with Sondra now. But since Jim has also moved back into his former house for the time being, I’m guessing that means that the Westie has been banished once more to the kennel. I’ve heard that Sondra now refers to that week-long period when Kiltie was missing and she was half-panicked about his disappearance as “a silly misunderstanding.” According to Aunt Peg, Todd Greenleaf still expects the Westie to be headlining his roster of dogs after the new year.
As might be expected in a household with two young boys, our Christmas was a joyous, disorderly, and rowdy affair. Kev started the proceedings just after dawn when he came racing into Sam’s and my bedroom, threw himself onto the bed between us, and shrieked, “Santa came! Santa came!”
Even Davey couldn’t sleep through that. Within minutes, he too had joined us on the bed, bringing Augie with him. The rest of the Poodles could be forgiven for taking that as a tacit invitation. At that point there was nothing else for Sam and me to do but rub the sleep from our eyes and troop downstairs to see what kind of bounty Santa Claus had left behind.
Amid the pile of toys and games, Davey found a new tablet that he’d been craving since summer. Kevin was mesmerized by the large tabletop aquarium, filled with angel and rainbow fish, that Santa Claus had left for him on the sideboard.
“Santa brought me fish.” Kev stared at the tank and exhaled an enraptured breath. “How did he know?”
“The same way he knows what a good boy you’ve been all year,” I said, ruffling my fingers through my son’s blond locks. “He cares about you very much.”
“I love Santa Claus,” Kevin announced.
Sam cast his eyes my way. “Me, too,” he said.
Bob and Claire’s wedding, which followed a week later, was utterly enchanting. Snow drifted downward through the crisp evening air. The church’s tall white steeple, lit from below, pointed upward like a beacon toward the stars. Organ music stirred the soul and echoed out into the dark, winter night.
The sight of Davey, standing tall beside his father in front of the altar, made my heart swell with maternal pride. Bob’s expression, as he awaited his bride, was wondrous with happiness. I hoped he and Claire enjoyed a long and happy marriage and I thanked the twists and turns of fate that had brought me to this place where I was able to wish only good things for my first son’s father.
Thanks to some last-minute scrambling and a timely intervention by Sam, Kevin was still wearing his dark suit and bow tie when he preceded Claire down the aisle. Having aced the rehearsal, the toddler now decided to ad-lib the actual performance. He made it halfway to the altar at a decorous pace before taking off and running the rest of the way. Kev stopped just short of the communion rail, flung the satin ring pillow at Davey, and wrapped his arms firmly around his brother’s legs.
Even though I was seated up front next to Claire’s sister, Anabelle, and her nephew, Alexander, I could still hear the sound of Claire’s delighted laughter coming from the back of the church. After a few seconds, Bob joined in. It seemed like a wonderful way to begin a marriage.
The ceremony was brief, but moving. I never cry at weddings but after the emotional whirlwind of the last two weeks, all my senses felt raw. I’d accomplished what I’d set out to do, but nothing had turned out the way I’d hoped. In the end, I’d still been left with the feeling that I hadn’t managed to help nearly enough.
Sam quietly passed me his handkerchief and pressed his body a little closer to mine as we sat side by side in the pew. I appreciate the silent support. Sam got it. He always does.
Aunt Peg had arranged for the reception to be held at a nearby country club. She never would have done such a thing on Bob’s behalf; the gesture was a sure sign of her fondness for Claire. My ex-husband realized that and I saw him thank her privately later. Aunt Peg brushed off his expression of gratitude but I knew she was pleased. Maybe there’s hope for their relationship yet.
The mood at the reception was festive. I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and went to greet the happy couple. Claire and Bob were surrounded by well-wishers. A few minutes passed before my turn came.
“Welcome to the family,” I said, holding my drink aloft in tribute to her intrepid act. “And hold on to your hat.”
Claire didn’t appear fazed at all. Instead she just grinne
d.
“I don’t know about that,” she said lightly. “Since you and Bob are divorced, we’re not really related, are we?”
“Sure we are.” Bertie came to join us. “Even if it’s only in a step-something kind of way, it still counts. We’re not going to let you get away from us that easily.”
“Look what happened to Bob,” I said. “He’s still here. It must be our magnetic attraction.”
“It’s more like flypaper,” Bob told his new wife in a loud stage whisper.
Unexpectedly I found myself sniffling again. “I got my first sister by marriage,” I said, glancing Bertie’s way. “And now I have a second. I couldn’t have done better if I had chosen you both myself.”
Sam came over, carrying Kevin in his arms. Davey was trailing along behind.
“This is the best Christmas ever,” Kev announced happily.
I couldn’t argue with that. I was surrounded by my family, the most precious people in my world. I wanted them to know how much they meant to me. I wanted to treat them with exquisite care. And I had no intention of taking even a single minute with any of them for granted.
Drawing Davey closer, I wrapped my arms around Sam and my two sons and held on tight. No member of my family was ever going to feel like they didn’t get enough hugs. I would make sure of that.
“Mom, enough,” Davey complained after a minute. “It’s embarrassing.”
“I know,” I said, but I didn’t let go.
It felt great.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2015 by Laurien Berenson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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