Payback

by Jonnie Jacobs

  “I’m about ready to leave,” Marta said, stepping around to the front of Carol’s desk. “Anything we should go over first?”

  Carol looked up. She hadn’t been concentrating on work. She’d been crying.

  “What’s wrong?” Marta asked. Carol wasn’t given to emotional swings.

  “Nothing.” Carol sat up straighter and forced a thin smile.

  “It can’t be nothing. Is it a client? Something about the business?”

  “It’s nothing, really. Mark and I had another fight.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Carol shook her head. “It will blow over.”

  Carol’s voice was a little too bright to sound believable but Marta didn’t want to badger her. “If you’re sure—“

  ”I am.”

  “Okay, I’ll be going then. See you in the morning.”

  Carol cleared her throat. “Don’t you want to know if my investigator found anything on Todd?”

  Mostly Marta wanted to put all memories of the creep behind her. It pained her to think what a fool she’d been. But she also wanted to mollify Carol, who seemed unwilling to let it go.

  “I assumed you’d tell me if he discovered something important.” Marta paused. “Did he?”

  “Not yet, but he’s convinced there’s something odd going on.”

  “I thought we already knew that.” Marta’s take on Todd wasn’t the same as Carol’s, but they did agree he was something of a con-man, even if they weren’t sure what the con was. And now that she and Carol had patched their differences, she didn’t want to dig further. “Is it really worth pursuing?”

  “Yes,” Carol said emphatically. “It is. It’s not right that he get away with lying like he did.”

  “Okay. Tell me what your investigator found.”

  “Todd’s cell phone is registered to someone named J.D. Conrad.”

  “Another alias?”

  “I doubt it. Conrad is in his sixties.”

  “You think he stole the phone? Or maybe Conrad’s identity?” Marta was trying to sort through the logistics. Surely Conrad would know if he’d lost his phone or was getting bills that weren’t his.

  “I don’t know. But makes you wonder.”

  “I guess so.” Curious, yes. Maybe even criminal. But Marta didn’t see that it was their concern. Besides, she was more perplexed by Carol’s tears than anything Todd was up to.

  Chapter 25

  Marta was setting the table for dinner when she spotted Jamie strolling down the street toward home.

  “Hi, honey,” she called out when Jamie came through the door. “You didn’t walk all the way from school, did you?”

  “I got a ride most of the way.” Jamie dropped her backpack in the hallway on her way into the kitchen. “And no,” she added, anticipating Marta’s next question, “it’s not anybody you know. Just some kids from school.”

  “They can’t bring you all the way home?”

  “It’s fine, Mom. I live out of their way and I don’t mind walking a few blocks.” Cell phone in hand, she opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda.

  Her phone pinged. Jamie glanced at the screen and tapped out a response, thumbs flying at a speed that awed Marta, whose own fingers never seemed to hit the right letter.

  “Was Oliver one of them?” she asked when Jamie had finished.

  “Huh?”

  “Was Oliver—”

  Another ping, and once again Jamie focused on her phone.

  Irritated, Marta asked, “How was school today?”

  Jamie didn’t respond.

  “Can’t you ignore that damned thing for a few minutes? We’re having a conversation.”

  Jamie didn’t look up from the phone. “We’re not actually having a conversation.”

  Marta could feel her blood pressure rising. “I’m trying to have one.”

  “Why?” Jamie tossed her head, a habit that she’d only recently adopted. She reached for a glass, filled it with ice, and poured in the soda. “What’s for dinner?”

  “I made that chicken dish you like with artichoke hearts.”

  “Yum.”

  “It’s just the two of us tonight. Your dad is having dinner with one of his colleagues. It’s just about ready.”

  “Good, I’m starving.” Jamie sat down at the table, tossed her head again, and guzzled down half her soda.

  Fleetingly, Marta caught site of a splotchy reddish bruise on her daughter’s neck. She looked closer. It had been a long time, but she recognized a love-bite when she saw one.

  Flustered, she turned away. How was a mother supposed to react? She was happy Jamie had a boyfriend, but the thought of her daughter locked in the arms of a young man wasn’t something she was ready to contemplate.

  She put the salad on the table, dished out the chicken, then joined Jamie at the table.

  “I talked to Aunt Cassie today,” she said, and tried like the devil to keep her eyes from returning to the mark on Jamie’s neck.

  “More trouble?”

  Marta shook her head. “No, it sounds like she’s doing well.”

  “Great.” Jamie picked up her fork and dug in, keeping one eye on her phone.

  “Please put it away. You know the rule. No phone during dinner.”

  “What does it matter? It’s just you and me tonight.”

  “I don’t count?” Marta kept her tone light but the comment hurt.

  Jamie rolled her eyes. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like we ever talk about anything interesting. You should be happy I’ve got friends.”

  “I am happy for you, but they shouldn’t become your whole life.”

  Jamie ignored her.

  “You’ve never been this consumed with talking to Alyssa.”

  “So?”

  Marta wanted to handle this the right way but she didn’t have the foggiest idea what that was. “I understand what it’s like to be young,” she said after a moment. “What it’s like to have a new boyfriend. It’s . . . it’s magical.”

  Jamie looked at her like she had two heads.

  “We didn’t have cell phones in my day, of course, but I do remember how nothing else seemed to matter. Still, there are times—”

  Ping. Jamie grabbed her phone.

  “I’m talking to you, young lady!”

  “Whatever.”

  Without thinking, Marta snatched the phone from Jamie’s hand.

  “Give me that!” Jamie shrieked.

  “You’re like an addict with this thing. Your behavior is rude. And it’s unhealthy.”

  Jamie lunged for the phone, knocking over her glass and sending soda across the table and onto the floor. She made no effort to stem the flow or mop it up.

  “You’ve no right,” she screamed. “That’s mine!”

  Marta pulled back, holding the phone out of Jamie’s reach. “Your father and I paid for it and we foot the monthly bill. The phone is yours only so long as we say so.”

  “So I’ll get a job,” Jamie cried. “I’ll pay you back. Now give it to me.”

  “Is this how Oliver acts?”

  “Who cares how Oliver acts?” Jamie was screeching, her arms flying in an attempt to retrieve her phone.

  Marta had had enough. “Maybe I should call him right now, talk to him myself.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  She felt her anger rising. She’d never seen Jamie like this. Was it Oliver’s influence?

  The phone pinged again, and Marta glanced at the screen. She blinked and looked again. Her heart hammered in her chest.

  Not Oliver. Todd.

  She scrolled down. Text after text from Todd.

  Marta could barely speak. “Why is Todd sending you text messages?”

  “Because he wants to.” Jamie crossed her arms and glared.

  Marta’s head was pounding. A ferocious anger bubbled up inside her.

  She scrolled through the most recent messages. There was an intimacy to the tone that sent her head spinnin
g.

  “It’s Todd you’ve been seeing, isn’t it? Not Oliver.”

  Jamie’s smirk told her everything she needed to know.

  Marta’s stomach clenched with a deep, nauseous fear. This couldn’t be happening. “How long has it been going on?”

  “A while.”

  This was so wrong on so many levels, Marta didn’t know where to begin. “Well, it’s going to stop. Right now. You are not to see him or talk to him again. Understood?”

  “I can talk to whoever I want!” Jamie tried to wrestle the phone from Marta’s hand.

  Marta pushed back. “No. You cannot. I forbid you to have any more contact with him. Do you understand? As of this minute, your phone stays in my control.”

  “You can’t!” Jamie lunged for her, but Marta held her own. She stepped to the side, over the spilled soda, and held the phone tight.

  “I love him,” Jamie sobbed. “He loves me. What’s so wrong about that?”

  So much Marta didn’t know where to begin. “He’s too old for you, for one thing.”

  “He’s only twenty-eight. That’s not so old.”

  “He’s much older than twenty-eight, Jamie. But even that is too old for you.”

  Jamie’s face was red with rage. “You can’t do this to me. I’m happy for the first time in . . . practically forever!”

  The phone pinged again. Marta tossed it into a drawer and stood squarely in front. “He’s using you, Jamie.”

  “He is not. You just don’t want me to be happy.”

  As angry as she was, Marta was also heartbroken for her daughter. She wanted to wrap Jamie in her arms and protect her. “I know you can’t see this now, but−”

  “You can’t stop me!” Jamie screamed hysterically, pounding Marla with her fists. “You can’t keep me away from Todd. You may think you can, but you can’t! You’re nothing but a dried-up old prune.”

  Marta grabbed Jamie’s wrists. “He’s using you, Jamie. He doesn’t care a wit about you.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. He’s using you to get at me.”

  Jamie stepped back. “What? Are you delusional?”

  She needed to shut up. She’d already said more than she’d intended. But exasperation mixed with fear and a sense of helplessness. She had to make Jamie understand.

  “It’s true. I met Todd on a business trip. We went out for drinks, then dinner, and we . . .” No way could she tell Jamie what had really happened. “We kind of flirted,” Marta continued. “It was my birthday and I was feeling sorry for myself because no one remembered or cared. I just wanted to have some fun. But for some reason Todd thought it was serious. He’s in Sterling because of me. To see me.”

  “You are such a liar.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Jamie. He’s angry because I rejected him, and he’s using you to punish me.”

  “Have you lost your mind? You expect me to believe that just because you two had drinks one night—” Jamie stopped midsentence. Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, my God. Did you sleep with him?”

  Marta felt the blood drain from her face. “No. Absolutely not.”

  ”You’re disgusting. You’re beyond disgusting.”

  “Honey, please—”

  “I hate you.” Jamie ran from the room.

  Marta was shaking. What a mess she’d made of everything. She’d handled it badly. Horribly. Jamie hated her. Gordon would hate her, too. She’d have to tell him now.

  She sat at the table and put her head in her arms, choking back tears. What other choice had she had? She had to make Jamie see Todd for what he was. It was Marta’s job to protect her daughter whatever the cost to herself.

  *****

  By nine o’clock, when Gordon wasn’t yet home, Marta decided to take a hot bath and then crawl into bed with a book. She’d cleaned up the kitchen, then done nothing but fret all evening, and she was worn out.

  She stopped by Jamie’s room and knocked on the door. She wasn’t going to apologize—she had nothing to apologize for. But the rift with her daughter was tearing her apart. She wanted to try once more to explain.

  When there was no response, Marta knocked again, more loudly. “Jamie, can I come in? Please. I feel terrible about the way we left things.”

  Silence.

  Marta hesitated, then turned the door knob, half expecting it to be locked. But the door opened easily.

  The room was empty and Jamie’s window was wide open.

  Chapter 26

  In the darkness of night, Jamie didn’t recognize Todd’s car until he pulled to a stop right in front of her. She heaved a sigh of relief. He had come for her.

  She had sneaked into her dad’s study and used the home phone to call Todd. When she couldn’t reach him, she left a message. She was afraid he wouldn’t get it, more afraid he wouldn’t show up. She worried her pleas and tears had frightened him away.

  She’d never done anything remotely like this. She had never even called Todd, much less asked for his help. She’d never climbed out her bedroom window, either. But she’d been out of her mind, shaking and sobbing like a crazy person. Her own mother! How could she?

  Jamie’s whole day had been awful, but the scene with her mother was the crowning blow. She needed to get away. She needed Todd.

  “Get me out of here,” she said, flinging herself and her packed bag into the car.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything. Please, just go.”

  Todd looked wary. “Where to?”

  “I don’t care.” Jamie leaned back, closed her eyes, and tried to quiet her tears. “Take me away.”

  “Away?”

  “As far as possible.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He seemed oddly uncomfortable, not tender and caring as she’d hoped. Jamie wondered if he was mad at her for disrupting his evening.

  Or maybe what her mother said was true?

  No. No way. Jamie could tell that Todd wanted her, not her mother.

  “I climbed out my bedroom window,” she told him.

  “You what?”

  “I’m leaving home.”

  “Jamie, for God’s sake—”

  “I’m upset.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But why?”

  She wiped her eyes. “My mom. I hate her. I really fucking hate her.”

  Todd was looking at her, waiting for her to continue.

  “Would you just go! I want to get away from here.”

  He drove to the next block, pulled to the curb, and parked. “Let’s try this again. What happened?”

  “My mom got hold of my phone,” Jamie said. “We had a big fight, and she just grabbed it out of my hand.”

  “That’s it?”

  Wasn’t that enough? “She saw your texts. She knows we’ve been seeing each other.”

  “Does she?” Todd didn’t seem worried. In fact, he sounded almost amused.

  “She thought I was seeing a boy at school. When she found out it was you, she got really mad.”

  “I bet she did.”

  “She says you’re too old for me,” Jamie added.

  “I am too old for you. I’ve told you—”

  “Don’t say that.” Jamie felt her throat tighten, her eyes again fill with tears. “Please, don’t keep saying that.”

  “It’s true.” He fell silent, tapping the steering wheel with his fingers and staring off into space.

  Jamie was sure he was going to tell her they had to stop meeting. Maybe he’d even confirm her mother’s outlandish story and admit it was her mother he loved. Jamie’s longing for him was so deep it hurt all the way down to her bones. She couldn’t bear to lose him.

  “A few years doesn’t matter,” Jamie insisted. “It’s how we feel that’s important.”

  A muscle in Todd’s cheek twitched. He had retreated into some private place, his face unreadable. He was silent for what seemed like forever, then he leaned closer and touched her face. “If I were a bet
ter man, I’d stay away from you. But I can’t. I’m falling for you. Big time.”

  Jamie’s heart swelled. Todd didn’t think she was silly or fat or childish. He liked her. He was interested in her. He was falling for her.

  But her mother’s ugly words echoed in her head. “My mom said you were just using me.”

  “Mothers worry a lot.”

  “She said she met you on a business trip,” Jamie said. “That you had dinner and . . . that she slept with you.” She knew this last part was true no matter how much her mother had denied it. “She says you don’t care about me at all, you’re just trying to punish her.”

  “Wow.” He brushed her forehead. “No wonder you’re upset.”

  “Is it true?” Jamie held her breath.

  Todd shook his head. “No.” He took a minute to look out the darkened window before turning back to her. “Not in the way she made it seem.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We did meet. I’d had a long, hard day. I just wanted to have a drink and relax. Your mother came on to me, all flirty and seductive. She seemed a little old for that kind of stuff but she said she wanted to celebrate. So I bought her a drink.”

  “And?” Jamie couldn’t breathe.

  “That’s it.”

  “That’s all? You didn’t come to Sterling to see her?”

  “Is that what she told you?” Todd laughed. “No, I came on business. I ran into your father when he was in the garage working on that car of his. I didn’t even know your mom was his wife.”

  “She thinks you wanted to see her again.”

  “I don’t know what kind of head trip she’s laying on you, but she’s full of it.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I don’t know. Probably because she’s a desperate woman.”

  “Desperate?” Could that really be it?

  “I’m sure she’s nice enough and all, but a woman gets on in years and maybe things aren’t going so well in the marriage, or maybe she just begins to feel her age. She might feel the need to convince herself she’s still hot. It’s sad, but I’ve seen it happen before.”

  “So you didn’t sleep with her?”

  “Good God, no. She’s way too old for me, and she’s not my type anyway. It wouldn’t surprise me, though, if she’s rewritten the evening in her own mind to make herself feel better. But lying to you, that’s inexcusable.”