by Iris Kincaid
Jeremy lived in a very modest two-bedroom cottage with a sweet deck out back, and only four blocks from the beach. As they walked toward the entrance, Jeremy remembered to prepare her a bit.
“My son is leaving today. Jonathan. I just wanted to be home to see him off.”
His son! That would explain a whole lot. She had no idea that Jeremy was a father. Oh, she couldn’t wait to meet little Jonathan. And the fact that he was leaving probably meant that Jeremy was divorced, with shared custody. Wanda wondered how far away the mother lived and how long she and Jeremy had been together. She was pretty good with little kids. This would be fun.
“Jonathan! Get out here. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
At the bustling sound coming from one of the bedrooms, Wanda remembered to pull off her wig. She wanted to have a proper introduction to the little guy.
Jonathan quickly appeared, although Wanda could no longer think of him in her mind as little Jonathan. He was a good four or five inches taller than Jeremy. A lanky nineteen-year-old whose age was deeply incongruous with the status of being Jeremy’s son. They both had light brown hair, but there the resemblance ended. He was pleasantly surprised at the sight of her.
“Jonathan, this is . . . Wanda Macomber.” He turned Wanda. “I almost gave you an alias, but I guess you’re pretty safe here.”
Jonathan took in the pretty young woman, a black wig beside her, and the mention of an alias. “Oh, my God, you’re in witness protection, aren’t you?”
“She is not in witness protection. She’s just a friend whom I wanted you to meet before you go back to school.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Jonathan. You’re leaving today for school?”
“Yeah, it’s my second year at UMass Amherst. That town is as dull as all get-out. Nothing to do but study,” he complained good-naturedly.
“And what are you studying?”
“I’m getting ready to major in architecture.”
“Really! What got you interested in that?”
“Well, have you heard about the UMass library building? This happened over forty years ago, but everyone on campus has heard about it. They created this humongous tall building, right, and then the bricks started falling off. And the library can’t even be used, and then they discovered that the architects didn’t take into account the weight of the books. That was so crazy. I guess when I heard about it was when I first thought about building things a whole lot better.
“And then after Pops took me to Hamburg, we saw that dope concert hall, and that wild parasol building in Seville—have you ever seen it? It’s insane. I just thought it might be pretty cool to build things.”
“He’s getting terrific grades in math and graphic design. And he already won a national design contest,” Jeremy said proudly.
“The first of many, I’m sure.” Wanda smiled. It was wonderful to see how proud Jeremy was of the boy. “You wouldn’t happen to have pictures of your award-winning design, would you? I’d love to see it.”
“I might have a copy hanging around,” Jeremy said slyly. “And maybe a few things I’ve been working on. If that won’t bore you to death.”
He disappeared back into his room. Wanda turned to Jeremy.
“Okay, Pops. Might I inquire how a man of your relative youth managed to wind up with that bean sprout of a college son?”
“His mother ODed. His father was a serial killer. That was my first big court victory. And they left this twelve-year-old boy behind. Without a family, and ready to be tossed into the foster system. Foster families . . . some are good and some are bad, but it’s a real crapshoot, and I didn’t think he should have to take that gamble. So, I signed up as a foster family and he’s been with me ever since.”
“That’s a pretty heavy responsibility,” Wanda marveled. “He was a complete stranger to you.”
“Yeah, but I saw quite a bit of them during the trial. At least he felt a little bit comfortable with me. Even then, not very. He wasn’t very talkative at all those first couple of years. But who could blame him? He’d lost both his mother and his father.”
Like me, Wanda thought.
“He didn’t trust anyone. And I was in way over my head. I was just a few years out of law school, twenty-seven years old, with a twelve-year-old kid. I just wanted to make sure that he got every opportunity, that he learned how to talk to people and trust people, and to see a future for himself.
“I sent him to this great camp for troubled kids. They really drew him out of his shell. I noticed such big differences every time he came back from a session. And this summer, he actually went back as a counselor. That was when I knew, when I really knew that he was completely okay. Being able to reach back and help someone else . . . he is a pretty amazing kid.”
Oh, Jeremy was so bursting with pride. It almost brought tears to Wanda’s eyes. Jonathan rejoined them and spent a gratifying twenty minutes showing Wanda his major projects for the last few years. Jeremy fixed some coffee and snacks, very pleased that Wanda and Jonathan were getting on so well.
But finally, it was time for Jonathan to take off. He had a ton of suitcases, and he was pretty stoked. He was going to be one of the resident advisers on his hall this year. His car was an old beater, but sound enough for the six-hour drive that lay ahead. Wanda watched their heartfelt goodbye.
Jonathan glanced in her direction. “Usually, this is where Pops tells me how much he’s going to miss me.” He took in the sight of his father’s pretty new companion. “You aren’t going to miss me at all, are you?” He elbowed his father in the ribs. “Not mad at you. Maybe I’ll let you meet my girlfriend one of these days.”
Jeremy threw up his arms apologetically in Wanda’s direction. She didn’t mind a bit. She felt really honored that Jeremy had introduced her to the most important person in his life. After Jonathan’s car pulled away, they went back to retire on the sofa.
“He’s right about one thing. I did get a little mopey this past year when he left. Empty nest syndrome, I think they call it. I think I went into a little panic, even as happy as I was, the day I watched him graduate from high school. He walked across the stage, and I knew that he was ready to spread his wings and leave the nest.”
“Were you bawling?” Wanda teased.
“I don’t think that three tears can be characterized as bawling. So, I categorically deny that misleading depiction.”
“All right, counselor. You keep stickin’ to that story.”
Something about the timing of Jeremy’s paternal journey suddenly leapt out at her. “He came into your life seven years ago. That was the same time that . . . that was about the same time that you disappeared. Wasn’t it? That was why.”
Disappeared from Wanda’s life. The end of stopping by and gabbing away, and flirting, and hoping. Yes, the overwhelming demands of a silent, depressed little boy had forced Jeremy to put aside all thoughts of his own personal happiness. And yet, not a day in the past seven years had gone by that he hadn’t thought of her. He’d always hoped that she had never experienced it as a painful loss. Looking into her eyes today, he could see that he had been wrong.
He gently cupped both of his hands around one of hers. “That was why.”
She nodded, finally able to let go of that bit of hurt and disappointment that she’d carried around, that hurt of being rejected. What Jeremy had done was so much bigger than the two of them. He had done exactly what he should have. “That was why,” she said again, almost to herself.
He raised her hand to his lips and gave it the gentlest kiss. “That was why.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The following morning, Wanda was taking Butler for a walk around town. After all, before she took her in, Butler was footloose and fancy free. She shouldn’t be cooped up in the house all the time. Then Wanda saw a sight across the street that caused her to duck into a nearby doorway, hidden from sight.
It was Harley Osborne, stepping off the bus. That itself wasn’t surprising.
He’d mentioned that he’d had to sell his car for cash after an unsuccessful job hunt and having Heather Kelton ruin his chances of getting an unemployment check. But where was he going? This wasn’t a really big commercial area.
She wanted to follow him, but if he spotted her, he would probably change destinations. Assuming that he was doing something he shouldn’t be.
“Follow that man. Remember exactly what door he goes into, and come back to me. I’ll be right here. And then you’re going to lead me to the door,” she told Butler, who took off like a light after Harley.
Wanda only had about fifteen minutes to wait before Butler led her to The Children’s Hospital. Who could he be visiting? Could it be his nephew? She was going to have to wait until he left before she could find out anything. She walked past the building, away from the return path that Harley would take to the bus, and settled down with Butler to wait.
It was well over an hour before Harley made his exit. Wanda was free to badger the records clerk and confirm that Harley had come to visit his nephew, Eric Osborne. He was in an urgent care ward. That was a shame—for all the kids in there. But it looked like a well-financed, state-of-the-art facility. Pricey. But hadn’t they said in court that Harley had lost his health insurance? Who was paying for this treatment?
That’s not the kind of sensitive private information that a complete stranger could typically walk into this facility and obtain. But Wanda was far from typical, and she needed to know everything about Harley that she could.
As it turns out, little Eric Osborne was not covered by insurance. But his treatment had been upgraded recently to a top-tier. An anonymous donor had paid two separate $50,000 payments to cover his treatment for the next six months. That was just as confounding as the question of who’d paid Harley’s jaw-dropping $200,000 bail.
A little more digging into the facility’s financial records uncovered the name of the generous party—Misty Chandler, Powerball Princess and Harley Osborne’s very unexpected benefactor. For sure, Jeremy was going to find this an interesting development.
And so he did. They had finally decided that, given their need for communication on the down-low, it was probably a good idea to exchange cell numbers and be able to text when the occasion required. Jeremy said that he would grill Harley about Misty paying his nephew’s bills, and undoubtedly, she was the one he had to thank for his bail.
But he probably won’t speak to me. He’s shut down pretty tight. What I wouldn’t give for a look at Misty Chandler’s financial records, Jeremy’s message read.
Wanda wrote back, I’m on it.
No, no, no, no. Misty Chandler’s house is not a crime scene. It’s in this neighborhood with pretty great security systems, all around. Not even your talented cat would be able to get in.
We’ll see, Wanda wrote back.
What was there to see? A locked house is a locked house. But Jeremy was starting to know better than to underestimate his new friend. Good thing he was a defense attorney, ’cause Wanda really might need a lawyer. And soon.
*****
Wanda watched in rapt admiration as artist Gillian Swann completed a portrait of a child on the pier. It was the most exquisitely detailed painting, filled with moving, pulsating colors. What an amazing talent that Gillian’s new abilities had given her.
After the child and his mother had happily departed with their new painting, Wanda stepped up to introduce herself.
“Hi, I’m Wanda Macomber. You and I have a mutual friend.”
“Oh, really? Great. I’m Gillian Swann. Whom do we both know?”
“Lilith Hazelwood.” Wanda just let that one sink in.
A slow smile crept over Gillian’s face and soon, she was grinning widely.
“You don’t know how happy I am to meet you. What part of Lilith did you get?”
“Her voice.”
“You have an incredible voice. But how can a voice be transplanted?”
“Vocal cords—windpipe, larynx, thyroid. And voila, a whole new voice. Believe me, I used to sound a lot different.”
“What can you do?”
“It’s given me a pretty unfair advantage on the world. Everyone has to do what I tell them to do.”
“What, exactly, does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like—crazy, excessive power over other people, which I’m well aware can lend itself to gross abuse.”
“For example?”
“I had Dr. Svenson show me the Lilith Hazelwood transplant records, which he was not happy about, and since he doubted my abilities, I forced him to do the Macarena.”
They both burst into laughter.
Gillian shook her head. “Why couldn’t I have been there? What’s the point of having these glorious new eyes if I can’t feast on the vision of Doctor Svenson in a dancing frenzy?”
“Your eyes are rather glorious, and I was hoping you could help me out. I’m the jury foreman on the Heather Kelton murder trial.”
“Wow! That’s a pretty big deal.”
“It is. And I want to make sure the right person winds up behind bars, even if that means breaking a few rules to get information. Where exactly do you stand on breaking rules?”
“Been there. Done that,” Gillian admitted.
She readily agreed to join Wanda on an expedition to Misty Chandler’s house. On the drive over, they asked one another nonstop questions about their new lives and abilities.
“Do you have a familiar?” Gillian wondered.
“My cat, Butler. Very smart. I just taught her to turn on the coffee pot at seven AM so it’s all ready for me and my roommate by the time we get up.”
“Sweet. My Morty is more of a bodyguard.”
Thankfully, Misty Chandler’s car was gone, so they could stroll in her backyard and peek through the windows. The house was filled with moving boxes.
“Looks like she’s going somewhere,” Gillian noted.
“No kidding. Even I can see that. Even our cats could see that. Impress me. What has she been up to?”
As Dr. Svenson had correctly informed Wanda, Gillian could see right through the house walls and through bureau drawers with pinpoint clarity.
“Well, she’s got quite a stash of lottery tickets. Why do people keep those things? I mean, when you lose, why not toss them? In these little bundles of ten tickets each, same lottery numbers. Every week, same numbers.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, she’s going to Vancouver. She has a United flight out of Boston in three days.”
“That’s interesting. Any checks, financials, any ties to Harley Osborne?”
“Her checkbook is there. Whoa, there’s over two hundred million dollars in her account.”
“That would be Powerball winnings, minus taxes paid. What about outgoing money this past month?”
“Okay. Looks like she paid $200,000 in bail money recently. Plus two separate $50,000 checks to the West Bay treatment facility.”
“Now that’s what I’d like to hear more about. Anything else?”
“After she got her winnings, she’s been on a spending spree like nobody’s business. Big purchases every day.”
“What about August first? August second? August third?” Wanda wondered if her friend Heather’s death had slowed down Misty’s consumption, if only in the smallest degree.
“At least three purchases every single one of those days. Is it even possible to burn through two hundred million dollars? Because she’s trying as hard as she can.”
“Thank you so much, Gillian. I’m going to drop you off, and I’ve got to get to my lawyer. What a silly thing to say. He’s not my lawyer. He is a lawyer. But he’s not mine.”
Gillian noted Wanda’s flushed cheeks, accelerated heartbeat, and brightening pink aura. “Are you sure he’s not yours? ’Cause I’m thinkin’ he might be yours. Hmm. Too bad I can’t force people to tell me things.”
“I won’t lie. It can come in handy.”
With vows to see one anot
her after the trial is over, the young women finally went their separate ways, and Wanda hurried to find Jeremy.
*****
He was at the law library. Wanda had on her black wig again. It didn’t suit her as well as her natural hair, but it sure didn’t hide her beauty.
“I found all kinds of interesting things inside Misty Chandler’s house.”
“That sounds frighteningly illegal. I’m going to guess that she didn’t invite you in.”
Wanda shook her head sheepishly.
“I’m probably going to regret this. What did you find?”
Wanda excitedly told him about the contents of Misty’s checkbook and desk drawers.
Jeremy was incredulous. “How could you possibly know any of this? Are you saying your cat got you into Misty’s house? Which, incidentally, is not a crime scene. Can’t even be justified by saying that you are investigating a crime scene. She’s got to have top-notch security. Some kind of alarm system. I want to know exactly how you got that information.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
Wanda got up and started backing away. “Your hacker could probably confirm the plane information. Oh, one more thing, Mr. Todd.”
“Oh, when you’re wearing your black wig, you can call me Jeremy.”
“If you could find out the winning Powerball number, that would be useful.”
As Jeremy watched Wanda walk away, he could only wonder Who is this woman? Is she a criminal or the answer to my prayers?
*****
In court the next day, Misty’s smart new fashion acquisitions were on display. A salmon Armani suit, diamond earrings, large pearls, and a beige Yves Saint Laurent bag. From the jury box, Wanda again had to wonder, Is it even possible to burn through two hundred million dollars?
Jeremy approached the witness. “Ms. Chandler. You have a plane ticket from Boston to Vancouver that leaves in three days. Is that correct?”
“How–how did you find out about that?” Misty stammered.
“Is that a yes?”
“Why–why, yes. I am going to Vancouver. Things have just been so stressed. I really did need a bit of a vacation.”