Window of Guilt

by Spallone, Jennie

  “Will do,” said the older woman, slipping off into the crowd.

  “Answer my question, Mom,” Rory whined as they walked down the hall corridor filled with pictures of temple past presidents and Sunday School artwork.

  “He needs to talk to someone,” Laurie explained.

  “Will God still be able to find Dad and write him in the Book of Life?”

  “We’re never lost to God, as long as we want to be found.”

  “That’s good, ’cause I love Dad and never want him to get sick again.”

  Laurie straightened her son’s blue and gold kipah, then led him towards the babysitting room. They hadn’t told Rory about Ryan’s panic attack, passing off his recent trip to the emergency room as the flu. “Daddy will be just fine.” Once Ryan returned from his “errand,” she wondered if her words would hold true or scrape off like a glob of chewing gum.

  *

  Ryan’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. “I certainly wouldn’t blab to you.”

  “I’m pretty good at ferreting out the truth.”

  “What if the truth is my secret?”

  Mitzy continued. “You guys have had some heavy duty money problems since you quit your job. Those problems increased manifold following your heart attack last year.”

  Ryan suddenly pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, the cars behind him honking, and faced her. “I am going to kill Laurie for airing our personal problems to you.”

  “Lighten up, Ryan. Laurie and I have been friends since high school.”

  “That’s not the point and you know it.”

  “The point is that something’s grabbed you by the gondola. A love interest gone bad?”

  “It’s none of your business,” he wheezed.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, concerned.

  He pointed to his left suit pocket. “Nitro…”

  Mitzy reached into his pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. “Should I call nine-one-one?”

  Shaking his head, he uncapped the bottle and shoved a capsule beneath his tongue.

  She loosened Ryan’s tie. After a few minutes, the color returned to his cheeks.

  “Better?”

  Extracting a map from the glove compartment, Ryan examined it in silence, then pulled back onto the four-lane highway. “Let’s just get there and get home.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Ryan pulled up to a white two-story house flanked by acres of land on three of its four sides.

  Signaling her to follow, Ryan stumbled out of the car and headed up the driveway.

  17

  Mitzy hung back as Ryan rapped on a front door adorned with a lacquered wreath of apples and pears.

  The sound of footsteps hurrying towards them, then the wooden door swung open. A college-age girl dressed in jeans and a white University of Illinois hoodie answered the door. “Hey.”

  “My name is Ryan Atkins, formerly of Great Harvest Insurance Agency. Are your parents here? I’ve come to talk to them about Todd.”

  Mitzy looked visibly confused. “Shakia’s Todd Gray?”

  “I’ll get my dad.”

  “Zip it!” Ryan hissed to Mitzy.

  “Aye, aye, captain.”

  *

  The tall, broad-shouldered man paced back and forth across the forest green carpeted living room. “You say my boy hacked into your security system and confronted you at your insurance agency?”

  “It looks that way, Doctor,” said Ryan, fidgeting in the corduroy armchair.

  “I’m mighty curious, Mr. Atkins,” said Todd Gray, Sr., staring down at him. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “As I already mentioned, we had a security guard on site.”

  “Yet he was absent from the scene.”

  Ryan smiled sadly. “Despite your son’s explosive outburst, I felt sorry for his plight.”

  “Do you have children, Mr. Atkins?”

  Ryan nodded. “Eight-year-old son.”

  “Chip off the old block?”

  “Actually, he inherited his mother’s curiosity and outgoing nature.”

  The veterinarian stooped over him, his hands clasped behind his back. “Do you know what it’s like for your child to be born with a hole in his heart, Mr. Atkins? Strep throat’s a regular visitor. High fevers rally forth and refuse to be tamed. All the while, your kid’s lying there trying to gasp the air like a dying fish.”

  Ryan winced. There but for the grace of G-d.

  “My son spent so much time in the hospital during his early years, they embroidered his name on his own special blanket. Our pediatrician told us Todd’s heart murmur produced two eighth notes followed by a quarter note. Musically inclined. But that extra beat in there, Mr. Atkins, that’s the killer.”

  Listening to the pain in this man’s voice, it was all Ryan could do to not flee the room. Yet he felt he owed this bereft father this modicum of dignity.

  The doctor continued. “Fortunately, open heart surgery closed the patento valve. Todd completely recovered. My wife and I were ecstatic. Although engaging in athletics was out of the question, our son excelled in his academic studies and started college.”

  “Thank G-d,” Ryan murmured.

  Gray looked away. “We only received a temporary reprieve, Mr. Atkins. Apparently, open heart surgery failed to completely close the hole. Todd’s heart was extensively damaged. Pneumonia took up residence with every common cold. His irregular heart beat necessitated pacemaker surgery. Todd’s cardiac output declined. More bouts of hospitalization with diuretic treatments. Somehow my son hung in there and graduated college with honors. But congestive heart failure loomed closer all the time. Todd required a new pacemaker, but this one was defective. Receiving a heart transplant was my son’s last chance.”

  Ryan’s face drained of color. “You must believe me, sir. I tried to get my supervisor to sign off on the surgery but he insisted that since Todd had already reached his one-million-dollar lifetime maximum coverage through Great Harvest, Medicare would foot the entire bill.”

  “Excuses don’t cut it when you know your son will die without a heart transplant.”

  Hearing this family’s plight, Ryan silently rejoiced that G-d had given him a healthy child. Yet, he felt dizzy with regret that he’d unwittingly contributed to this man’s misery.

  “I appreciate you coming here to explain yourself, Mr. Atkins; it was a courageous act. But forgiveness is no longer in my vocabulary. Not when my boy’s future has been forever snuffed out.”

  “We were going to open up our own chiropractic veterinary practice some day,” a girl’s voice interjected.

  Ryan twisted around in his seat to view Todd’s sister. He’d so immersed himself in the father’s saga that he’d forgotten all about the girl who’d opened the front door to him and Mitzy.

  Todd Sr. pulled his teenage daughter to him. “It was all planned. Todd was taking graduate courses at the U. of I. while interning at Dr. Grover’s animal clinic. He was convinced of the benefit of chiropractics for treating farm animals.”

  Ryan stood up and looked at Mr. Gray and his daughter. “I sympathize with your loss, I really do. But neither I nor Great Harvest forced your son to stalk me and my family at our summer home in Wisconsin.”

  Signaling to Ryan that she’d wait in the car, Mitzy headed for the door. She was almost through the entranceway when Todd Gray Sr.’s next words echoed through the house. “Our loss, as you put it, is that my son won’t be opening a veterinary practice with his sister. He’ll be thousands of miles away.”

  Mitzy caught the look of disbelief in Ryan’s eye.

  “Australia,” continued Mr. Gray.

  “Why Australia?” asked Mitzy, buying time.

  “Socialized medicine.”

  “Australia has lots of cattle ranches,” said Susie. “He can apprentice while he waits.”

  “When did your son mention he was heading to another continent?” Ryan croaked.

  Todd Sr. looked at him strange
ly.

  “We’d better be going,” Mitzy said hastily.

  Ryan extended a trembling hand. “Thanks for allowing me to explain.”

  Todd Sr. shook his hand. “I respect a man who does what’s right, even if it means apologizing for a company decision not under his control.”

  “G-d bless your family, Mr. Gray,” said Ryan.

  “And yours, as well, Mr. Atkins.”

  Mitzy pulled him out the door.

  *

  “Whew.” Ryan clicked the unlock button on the remote. Then he leaned back in the seat, his eyes closed.

  Mitzy climbed into the passenger seat of the minivan. “So you trekked all the way down here to face the man whose son you thought you’d indirectly killed by denying him a transplant.”

  “Yep.”

  “Better to have done the right thing on a hunch then to hang back and deliberate.”

  “Caused me a lot of grief,” said Ryan.

  “Let me guess. Laurie doesn’t know.”

  “Bull’s eye,” he said, drumming the ignition.

  “Time to ’fess up.”

  “Why don’t you tell her?” Ryan hedged.

  “You’ve made it perfectly clear it’s none of my business,” she said huffily.

  “But you made it your business, didn’t you?” Ryan said, his voice accusing. “Just think of the emotional punch you’ll get when you tell Laurie her husband drove all the way to Timbuktu, only to make a fool of himself.”

  “Besides, this all fits together. Officer Gomez notified Laurie a young woman by the name of Susie Gray came up to Wisconsin to view the body but failed to ID him.”

  “Whoa. Todd Gray’s sister?”

  “Evidently.”

  “But Laurie never…”

  “…Told you Gomez had phoned. With everything else going on, it probably slipped her mind. You’re not the only one with a secret, though.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Two weeks ago, Laurie and I paid a social call on Shakia Williams,” said Mitzy.

  “Okay.”

  “Shakia’s Todd had your Chicago address.”

  “I thought she only had our P.O. box,” huffed Ryan.

  “Evidently she had both. Early on in their relationship, she came down with a virus. Too ill to make it to the post office, she asked Todd to mail her rental check to you guys. Then, last March, they got into a violent argument and she kicked him out.”

  Ryan pulled to the right lane and cut his speed. “So Shakia breaks up with this prick. Two months later, he keels over dead on my property.

  Mitzy’s eyes opened wide at his mis-speak but he seemed not to notice.

  “Wait a minute,” said Ryan, his voice brightening. “Shakia’s TG was after her, not us.”

  Mitzy nodded. “Shakia feared Todd was stalking her. She gave the police Laurie’s cell phone number in case she disappeared. The CPD issued a restraining order on Todd weeks before you found the body. Shakia tried phoning him from her mom’s house the day we visited. No land line. His cell phone was disconnected.”

  Ryan hit his palm to his forehead. “Shakia’s Todd Gray can’t be the same Todd Gray who harassed me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Her dude was black.”

  “Shakia was dating a white guy whose physical description resembled that of the young man’s picture shown in the newspaper and on the Internet.”

  “We don’t know for sure,” said Ryan.

  “Considering all these variables, I get why you didn’t confide in Laurie,” Mitzy said. “Especially since the guy collapsed on your property.”

  Ryan threw her a quick glance, then returned his gaze to the highway. “I never said that.”

  Mitzy looked at him intently. “My mom used to say, ‘Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.’ Which truth is the truth here, Ryan?”

  “Lay off, will ya?”

  “I’ve interviewed lots of people. Undue stress may cause them to mis-speak once, not repeatedly.”

  Ryan clenched the wheel tighter. “The kid’s dead, isn’t he? What’s the difference where the body was found?”

  “Yet you did your best to convince Laurie she was hallucinating.” Ryan swung the car over to the exit ramp. “Get out!”

  Mitzy peered out the passenger window. “In the middle of cornfields? Not.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You don’t get out of my car, I’m calling the state police.”

  “You gonna have them physically remove me? Because that’s the only way I’m moving my butt until you get us back to temple. Temple, Ryan, remember? Day of Judgment?”

  Ryan pulled the car back onto the expressway. “I’ve had enough of your mouth.”

  Mitzy sucked in her breath. “You discovered the body while Laurie lay faint on the kitchen floor.”

  “Keep your nightmares to yourself!”

  “The question is, why didn’t you call the police when you discovered the body? And how did the body turn up on your neighbor’s driveway?”

  Ryan zigzagged across three lanes of traffic and pulled to the side of the road, then killed the ignition. “I had some intense sunburn so I stopped back at the house for Aloe Vera. That’s when I found the dead body. I ran back to the pier for my cell phone. When I returned, the body had disappeared. I saw a police car approaching so I took off. Figured the kid had been up to no good. Didn’t want to put Laurie and my son in even more danger.”

  “The police could have helped you.”

  “I prefer to protect my own family.”

  Mitzy rolled her eyes.

  “My suspicions were confirmed when Laurie found the napkin listing our Chicago and summer home addresses.”

  “Today you learned you’ve been howling at the wrong chandelier.”

  “Unless Todd Gray lied to his family about packing up for Australia and stayed behind to harass me and my family,” Ryan said warily.

  “You are paranoid, know that?” said Mitzy.

  “I need to root out the real T.G. and discover who put him onto my scent,” said Ryan.

  “All by your lonesome?”

  Ryan smiled for the first time, rubbing his knuckles. “Uh huh.”

  “You gotta notify Officer Gomez. She’ll spread the word to Maggie.”

  “I don’t ‘gotta’ do anything,” said Ryan. “The police found the body.”

  “She’s going to be plenty pissed with your withholding of information.”

  “Laurie tried to tell Gomez the body was found on our property, but she didn’t buy it.”

  “Why dissuade her when you knew otherwise?” said Mitzy.

  “Yeah, well I think I’ll keep that scrap of information to myself. I’d advise you to do the same until I find the real culprit.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Know you’ll be putting your best friend in danger.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You have to trust me on this one, Mitzy.”

  “I’m not comfortable harboring information concerning an investigation,” she warned.

  “Tell Gomez. I’ll just deny it.”

  “You and Laurie are secret mongers, aren’t you?” said Mitzy.

  “This time I’m fighting for justice.”

  “Back in the Lord’s good graces?”

  “And it feels so good,” Ryan sang. He pulled back onto the expressway.

  18

  “I’m not telling you again, Rory,” Laurie yelled downstairs into the darkened basement. “Turn off that TV and get ready for bed.”

  “Just ten more minutes, Mom. Full House rerun is almost over.”

  “I’m counting.

  “Okay, okay, I’m comin’,” called her son, bounding up the stairs. Checking the gas jets on the stove one last time, Laurie eyed the old-fashioned cuckoo clock on the wall, then flicked off the kitchen lights and headed upstairs. 9:00 p.m. Yawning, she grabbed Chicken Soup for the Kid’s Soul from the living room bookcase and trudged up t
he rose carpeted stairs.

  “Thought you got lost, Mama,” Rory kidded as he slipped on his basketball pajamas.

  “Just cleaning up the kitchen.” Laurie plopped on the Bulls bedspread and thumbed through the book for a story they hadn’t yet read.

  “‘Lost’ means a lots of things, you know?” said Rory.

  Laurie nodded as she continued skimming the book pages.

  “First, it means nobody’s able to find you.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Second, it could mean G-d’s not able to find you if you hide yourself ’cause you did something bad.”

  Laurie raised one eyebrow. “You do something bad?”

  Rory fidgeted with his pillowcase. “Not exactly.”

  “You either did or you didn’t. Which is it?”

  “Today Mr. Laperdy made me face my desk towards the back of the room because he says I’m always joking around with the other kids. Am I lost to God for doing that, Mama?”

  “You’re never lost to the Lord, sweetie. Just save you’re joking around for recess.”

  “Hey Mama, there’s one more way a person can be lost.”

  “Rory, it’s almost nine-fifteen,” Laurie noted, leaning back against the wall. “You want me to read to you or not?”

  “You can hide from yourself. Like telling yourself you did something right when inside you know it was wrong.”

  Laurie closed her eyes. She had enough to worry about with Ryan. Not Rory, too, she prayed. “Okay, kiddo, what’s up?”

  Rory threw himself into her arms. “Turn out the light and I’ll tell you,” he whimpered.

  Laurie rose to flick off wall switch. “Spill it, Rory.”

  “I was walking home from school when I saw this baby squirrel lying on its side in the middle of the road. Blood was coming out from under the squirrel and its eyes were staring straight ahead, but its nose was twitching so I knew it was still alive. I looked around for somebody to help me move the squirrel to the curb but it was four o’clock and the crossing guard and other kids had already gone home.”

  “What did you do?” Laurie asked more sympathetically now.

  “First I tried to call you, but my cell phone was dead. I thought about knocking on someone’s door, but you always say not to talk to strangers. Then I thought about walking back to school and getting the principal, but I didn’t know if he’d still be in his office. So I walked home and pretended nothing happened.”