Ethics of a Thief

  Steven and Stan played in the front, while Carry and I visited in our backyard. Alisa was away with a friend, so I had Carry all to myself. I was thrilled to play with someone my age, and we both were going to start kindergarten in a month.

  We stood under a large umbrella tree that covered the wood patio deck. A small table with child-sized chairs sat near the house. My dolls were on the chairs, and the table was set for a tea party. Carry didn’t seem too impressed. I took my dolls off each chair and placed them on the deck. We sat on the chairs without speaking.

  “I can’t wait until school starts,” I said.

  “Why?” Carry asked.

  “Silly, so we can play with other kids.”

  “I don’t want to go,” Carry pouted.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know anyone. Dad got a job here.” Carry’s eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t want to come here.” “But why?”

  “I like my old house. I miss my friends. I want to go to school with them. I will never see them again.” Carry’s tears cascaded down while she said, “My dad made my whole life go away.” Her eyes opened wide. “He told me his job is here, and the weather is great. No snow to shovel. But, I said, ‘I like snow and helping him shovel. We have fun. We throw snowballs at each other.’ When I said that, my dad looked sad. Now, I don’t say anything.” Abigail smiled. “I never lived near snow.”

  Carry looked up, “My mom said I have to support Daddy. No one wants me to talk about it,” she said, with eyes filled with tears.

  They both silently sat.

  “Come eat,” Mom called out.

  Before entering the house, we could smell homemade cookies.

  “Wash your hands, girls.”

  Carry and I hurried to the bathroom, quickly washed and ran to the kitchen and went directly to the cookie sheet.

  “Eat your sandwich first, girls.”

  We picked at our food. When Mom left the room, we abandoned lunch, grabbed two cookies each and hurried out. We giggled on our way back to the table. Both of us had grins as we gobbled down our treats. We were glad my mom never came to scold us.

  “Where’s the school?”

  “Over there,” I pointed behind us. “It’s across from the store.”

  “Do other children live close?”

  “Mom counted eighteen.”

  “Any my age?”

  I nodded. “Dick’s seven. Lillie’s five. They live that way.” I pointed to the left. “There’s a boy named Berry. He’s older. He lives at the end of the street. No one likes him. He throws rocks at cars. He hits Steven. Mommy gets mad.” “Let’s pretend we’re having tea with our cookies.”

  Carry nodded.

  Remembering those days, it seems like another lifetime ago, Abigail thought. I’ll be telling her every detail of our ordeal. She listened to Lisa tell Danny, “I want a tea set with my reward money.” Abigail laughed.

  “What’s so funny, Aunt Abigail?”

  “What?”

  “You’re smiling,” Danny said.

  “Oh, just thinking about Carry. We also liked having tea parties.”

  Lisa smiled. “I miss her. Can we see her?”

  “When we get home, I’ll call. Okay?”

  Great, Abigail thought, I left my stupid cellphone in the car. Everything happened so quickly that I forgot.

  *

  In the early evening, Carry English arrived home. The answering machine light flashed. She pushed the button and listened. One message was from Steven. She hadn’t heard his voice for a long while. She quickly returned his call. When he answered, he wasn’t his cheerful self. “Can I call you back?” he asked. “My parents and I aren’t home right now. Can I call you later?”

  “Sure. Steven, are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

  After placing the phone down, she stared at it for a moment. Her forehead started to form lines, and her smile disappeared.

  I hate not knowing what’s going on. I bet it’s about Abigail. Why else would he be calling? She shrugged her shoulders. I hope I’m just overreacting again, she thought. But, Abigail should have called by now. She picked up the phone and dialed Abigail’s home number. No answer. She called her cell -- no answer. She left messages at both numbers for Abigail to call back ASAP.

  Hearing Steven’s voice brought back childhood memories about the fort he built in his backyard.

  Abigail was ill one day, and he invited me to join him and his friends in his fort. I felt glad he didn’t know Abigail and I often entered his sacred place while he was at little league.

  While in the fort, the boys and I ate crackers and drank water from a canteen. Everything was going well until fifteen-year-old Berry pulled out his penis. Everyone stopped talking, and didn’t move. The boy reached for my hand and tried to force me to touch it. The other boys giggled and squirmed. Steven screamed, “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” Everyone went silent, their faces red.

  I couldn’t move or talk. I was glad when Elizabeth looked in just in time to see Berry quickly put his penis back into his pants.

  “Get out,” Elizabeth shouted. “Do it now! You disgust me, Berry. You’re no longer welcome at our house. Your parents will be getting a call about this.” Elizabeth stared at me for a moment, and yelled to all of us, “Go home, all of you, right now!”

  While walking home, my head hung low, my mouth turned down and tears were forming in my eyes. Once I opened the front door, I couldn’t hold back tears.

  “What’s wrong?” my mother asked.

  “Berry grabbed my hand; he tried to make me touch him,” I sobbed.

  Quickly, my mother wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. Mom broke the silence. “Sit. Tell me what happened.”

  After I finished telling her everything, she said, “You did nothing wrong, Honey. What happened wasn’t your fault. You’re innocent. Berry did something wrong to you.” Mom had tears in her eyes and, within minutes, she started sobbing.

  “I’m okay, Mommy. Don’t worry. Really, I didn’t touch it.”

  Once my mom composed herself, she said, “When I was a teenager, a boy at school did something similar to me. That experience filled me with guilt and shame all these years. When I said to you that you are innocent, God comforted me. I now realize what happened to me wasn’t my fault either. I, too, was innocent.” Mother and I tearfully embraced.

  Later that evening, Elizabeth called my mom. “I need to talk to Carry and you -- can I come over tonight?”

  “Come around 6:30 p.m. My husband will be home. He needs to hear what you have to say.”

  When Elizabeth arrived, Mom placed drinks in front of us.

  Elizabeth said, “I had a long talk with Steven. He set me straight on some things. None of the other children had any idea or warning that Berry would do such a thing. I believe my son.” She turned to me. “I’m so very sorry you were exposed to such a thing. Please forgive me for not protecting you.” Tears were now coming from her eyes.

  My dad stood up, his eyes were fierce. He said, “I’ll have a little talk with that punk.”

  “Let’s not do anything rash.” Mom reached for his hand.

  “That boy violated our daughter. He’ll pay for what he did.”

  “I called his parents,” Elizabeth said. “They’re expecting me to drop by at seven o’clock. Do either of you want to go?”

  My dad walked back and forth while talking. “No need for you to go. I’ll go by myself.” He turned to Mom. “You need to stay here with Carry, I’ll go.”

  Many years later, I heard what happened. When Dad had entered Berry’s home, his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Holms, acted indifferent to how their son behaved. Dad noticed a Playboy magazine sitting on the coffee table. It angered him to see it out in the open.

  Mr. Holms said, “Boys will be boys.”

  His wife said, “Most children their age explore their sexuality. It’s no big deal. It’s a natural pa
rt of their development.”

  “That’s a bunch of crap!” my dad responded. “Your son violated my daughter. If you don’t make Berry accountable for what he did, I’ll call the cops.”

  Mr. Holms got up from his chair, walked over and picked up the phone. His eyes opened wide when Dad walked over and took it from him and called the police.

  Within fifteen minutes, Officer Mitchell arrived. Although, he took a report, he told Dad, “Little or nothing will come of this. We’re overloaded with rape and murder cases to solve.”

  The officer walked over to speak with Mr. Holms. In a low voice, he said, “If you want to keep peace in the neighborhood, get your son to apologize.”

  Mr. Holms called Berry into the room. He jerked the boy’s arm, pulled him toward Dad and said, “Apologize for what you did. Do it now. Understand?”

  “I’m sorry,” Berry said, with his head down and his voice low. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it satisfied everyone. At least, Berry acknowledged he did something wrong.

  As Carry remembered the incident, it occurred to her, That is the only secret I ever kept from Abigail. But, I did warn her not to trust Berry and never be alone with him. Goodness. I’m sure nothing like that is going on. Carry’s imagination ran wild. I wish I knew what Steven wanted to tell me. Why isn’t Abigail picking up her phone? Why hasn’t she called me back? I have all these questions and no answers. I’ll just have to wait until someone calls.

  Chapter Ten

  “Lisa, you look tired,” Abigail said. “It’s been a long day, let’s head for bed.” Without waiting for Matt’s response, she took Lisa’s hand and said to Danny, “Let’s go, young man.”

  Danny looked at Matt. After patting the boy’s head, he said, “You heard your aunt, let’s go.”

  After giving the man an angry glare, he still followed them to the cabin.

  Good grief! He’s going to observe us sleeping, she mused. It feels like a week since we slept. How can I clear my head with him watching my every move?

  Once in the cabin, she shooed Lisa toward the head to clean up. She found PJs and placed them on the bed next to her. Danny lay with his legs dangling off and with his hands under his head. “Don’t get too comfortable! You clean up next.”

  “I’m too tired. Do I have to?”

  She took a deep breath and slowly released it. She found a washcloth, wet it and stepped toward the boy. “At least wash your face and hands.”

  Matt leaned against the hatch. I guess this is the most privacy I’m going to get. Wouldn’t a hot shower be grand?

  To stay alert, she examined their cabin more closely. A vivid painting hung on the wall. The vanity held a silver brush and comb set. Next to it was a tray with miscellaneous toiletries for both men and women.

  Before the children were ready for bed, Matt sauntered over to the antique dresser and opened each drawer and moved his fingers as if trying to find a hidden compartment. He then reached for the jeweled egg Danny discovered, wrapped it in a T-shirt and placed it into the middle drawer. After it was closed, he turned and faced her without saying a word.

  Lisa sat next to her aunt.

  “Are you ready for prayers?” Abigail said as if not paying attention to her captor. The children and she knelt with eyes closed.

  Quickly, Matt moved toward the hatch and leaned against the frame with his arms crossed.

  They prayed for their mommy and daddy, Abigail’s students and friends. They ended with, “Dear God, please protect and guide each man on this yacht. Let them know how much you love them. Help them to someday accept your son, Jesus.”

  “Okay, you two,” she said. “Get under those covers.” Then she listened to them giggle as they squirmed into bed. She kissed each child’s cheek and said, “I love you.” After the children became quiet, she, too, freshened up and put on her sleepwear. When finished, she reached for her book and sat.

  “Why did you pray for us?” he said, irritably.

  “Because, my dear man, we were taught to pray for our enemies and for those who spitefully use us.”

  Her words lacked malice, yet they stung. “Do you actually read the Bible? And believe that stuff?” He felt lines on his forehead form, and his eyes couldn’t make contact with her, so he paced. “Don’t you know that religion is for the weak? You seem smarter than that.” His words felt stupid.

  “You could never understand unless you were raised with Christian principles. How could you?”

  He paced faster, rubbing his hands together. “Don’t you know the Bible was written thousands of years ago? Do you actually think there’s some God up in the sky who gives a rat’s ass?”

  “What button did I push?” she said. “Sorry, you can’t understand my faith. But, without God in my life, I don’t know what I would do. It must be difficult for you.”

  After turning red, he lowered his head and he walked away. After a few minutes, he returned. “It’s hard for me to believe that some Creator up in the sky is listening to children’s prayers. I think your faith is a bunch of crap. Do you really think you will have eternal bliss, just because you believe in Jesus?” He stared at her and waited.

  She glanced at the bed. “Where do you plan on sleeping?”

  “I’ll take the couch,” he said, forcibly.

  “Can’t you sleep in another cabin? I need some privacy.”

  “No. My men are using them, and they don’t want to go near the master suite.”

  “I’m sure they don’t,” she smirked.

  As he strolled over to her, he seemed calmer. He sat. “How are you related to the children?”

  “My, you sure changed subjects quickly. They are my sister’s children. As Lisa mentioned, they are on their second honeymoon.”

  “That’s nice,” Matt said, without showing interest.

  Abigail continued as if he did, “After being separated for a year, they decided not to raise the children alone, and as Christians, divorce isn’t an option.”

  “Why did they separate?” Matt asked, with a speck of interest.

  “Over finances, I gather.” Her eyes stared at Matt until she got his attention. “Are your men professional thieves?”

  “Guess you can say that,” he said, as he squirmed.

  “How can you justify stealing?” she asked. “Am I being too direct, again?”

  “Look. We have never hurt anyone; have we harmed you?”

  It surprised her when her eyes teared up. “What do you think you’re doing to us now? We can’t even have our privacy.”

  “I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

  “Don’t you realize our family will be worried sick? You and your men have frightened us. Someone murdered our friends, and you won’t let us go. What if the murderer is on board? That would mean we’re still in danger. Have you even thought about that?”

  He breathed deeply. His eyes examined hers. “Do you think we planned this? Do you think we’re happy about the murders? None of us are thrilled about any of this.” Sweat pooled on his brow. “I wish I knew who murdered them.” His voice was low and uneasy. “Look, I’m as concerned as you, but for a different reason.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re afraid for the children and your safety, and that I understand. And you’re grieving the loss of your friends. Our fear is becoming murder suspects, or being jailed for years for something we didn’t do. It might sound strange, but we have a reputation. Among thieves, we’re known for our ethics. Once implicated in murder, that will end. It won’t matter that we’re innocent.”

  “You and your men placed yourselves in that position. You came to steal from our hosts. You could have stayed home.”

  Neither spoke for a few minutes. She studied his face carefully and said, “If Jack didn’t do it, then who?”

  “None of us, we’re friends. It’s the first time we’ve questioned each other. Jack thinks it was Robert and Brent, they think it was Jack or me, and we all think it was Forelli. Once we found those bo
dies, everything changed. We have to find the killer. Understand? The money means nothing if we rot in some federal penitentiary for something we didn’t do.” With his head and shoulders in a slump, his eyes focused on the rug. “How well did you know the Kilgores?”

  “They were family friends, why do you ask?”

  “In some way, they were connected with the men who arranged for us to be here. Have you known the couple long?”

  “Yes. My parents met them many years ago at the yacht club. They sometimes dined together. At times, they came to family parties.”

  “How did they make their living?”

  “They never said, and we never pried.”

  Silently, he turned and stared at the bulkhead. Then, he abruptly turned. “Maybe someone set us up.”

  “Why? And who?” she asked.

  “I think the same people who sent Forelli. Tell me what you know about them?”

  “My parents and they were casual friends. We didn’t know them intimately. I only saw them a few times a year. None of us knew much about them. We were curious about how they made a living. My mother joked and said they were smugglers, while my dad thought they inherited or retired young.”

  “From what Robert said, your mother might be right.”

  “What do you mean? Smugglers?”

  “I don’t know all the details, but it seems so.”

  “If that’s true, it would explain things, but it doesn’t eliminate your friends as murder suspects.”

  “You don’t get it. We would never hurt anyone. It’s against everything we stand for.”

  “So, you don’t see yourselves as criminals?”

  “We don’t go around killing people.”

  “But, what about kidnapping?”

  “What? Because we aren’t letting you go? That doesn’t qualify us as kidnappers. We don’t plan on asking for money for your safe return, and we don’t want to hurt you. Have you seen any of us with a weapon?”

  “Does that mean you’ll let us go? Can I call the Coast Guard?”

  “No, we can’t let you do that. Not until we find the murderer.” Cold silence then filled the cabin. Matt leaned his elbows on his knees. He rested his chin on his folded hands.