Jonathan.
“What do you want?” I blurted out. It was like seeing a ghost. No, it was worse. Once this man had been my entire life and now, as I looked at him standing there in front of me after so long, I felt nothing but indifference. He was no longer part of our life, by his own choice, so what was he doing here in my new one? My heart had begun to heal from his mistreatment, but here he was again to reopen old wounds. I put on a fake smile and stared at him as if he were Santa Claus come too early, like on Halloween.
“I saw the newspapers.” The four words said it all.
I sighed aloud and opened the door so he could come in.
I felt stiff and searching his strange, yet familiar face, I tried to read his intentions. The square jaw was firm, his eyes were steely and bottomless. I remembered that look. A mingling of annoyance and impatience that came off as arrogance. He’d been the kind of man who took what he wanted and never cared who got hurt in the process.
“Well?” I stood inside the door frowning at him. This was the stuff of my wildest fantasies. Jonathan before me after all this time. Jonathan here. I could put my hand out and touch him. Jonathan, my son’s father. Jonathan, whom I’d loved since I was fifteen and been faithful to. Jonathan, who hadn’t been faithful to me. Loving Jonathan. Hateful Jonathan.
I felt nothing. He was an irritation, that’s all, and someone I no longer had to worry about. I wished I could snap my fingers and have him dematerialize. As the truth washed over me, a burden was lifted from my heart. I wanted to laugh with relief. It no longer hurt. He couldn’t touch me anymore. I was free.
“When I heard about your connection with these murders, Sarah, you can imagine, well, it came as a shock.”
He was looking right through me as if I wasn’t there. Typical. If something was distasteful, he pretended it didn’t exist.
“I’m worried about my son.” He leveled his eyes at me and his jaw worked under his skin. I’d surprised him with my indifference and he was trying to get back at me. I knew the trick too well to fall for it. He was trying to bluff me into giving myself away. But he no longer knew who I was. I wasn’t the weak-willed, love-sick woman he’d left.
“How strange. You’ve never worried about him before, Jonathan.” I stressed his name and smiled sweetly into his empty face. Why hadn’t I seen it before? He wasn’t handsome or sensitive. Watching him now I was amazed at how different my perception of him had become with distance. Jonathan was shorter than I remembered, and a little…pudgy. Nothing like Ben. I’d forgotten, too, how pretentious Jonathan could be. It was hard keeping a straight face.
“I’ve always worried about my son,” he snapped indignantly, peering around to take in his surroundings.
I saw his eyes judging us as they roved my home, probably filing every little detail away in that clinical mind of his for further dissection and later criticism. I resented it as much as I resented his being there. He turned back to me. “Where is he?” It came out like a demand, not a simple question.
I resented that, too. How dare he? “If you were so worried about your son, why did you leave us?” I hated myself the moment I said it, but it was too late and the harm was done. I knew I’d hadn’t meant the words as I’d uttered them but the funny thing was I didn’t care anymore. Another surprise.
“I left you, not my son.” His blue eyes flashed at me and a tinge of sadness invaded their depths.
It was then I felt sorry for him. He loved Jeremy, too. Of course, he’d miss him. Wouldn’t I, if it was the other way around? I could see it now. My ex-husband loved and missed his son.
So in the end, I nodded and genuinely smiled for the first time. “Truce?” I asked and he nodded back, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
There wasn’t enough of anything left in either of us, and not enough to keep the hate alive. Each one of us had come to terms with ourselves, our actions, long ago. “There’s nothing to worry about.” Though I knew it wasn’t really true. He followed me into the kitchen.
I didn’t have to announce him. Jeremy, with a squeal of delight, was out of his chair and in his father’s arms in two seconds flat, laughing and talking a mile a minute as if his father had never left or hurt us in any way. I felt tears fill my eyes, for what once had been and could never be again. All of us together as a family. We’d gone separate paths and there was no going back. Ever.
But seeing them happy together made me happy as well, if only for a short time.
“Why are you really here, Jonathan?”
He looked up at me as he hugged his son. “I’d like to take Jeremy back with me, if I may. For a while.”
His eyes were kind now, not cold as before, and there was a pleading in them.
“After all that’s happened, Sarah, I’m afraid for him to stay here until the maniac is caught.” He didn’t have to tell me what maniac he was referring to.
I stared at him. Anything else I might have expected, but not this. I’d been prepared to fight his hate or his disdain, but this pity I felt for him, I couldn’t fight. He loved Jeremy. Whatever reason he had for leaving us or staying away from his son for so long, no longer mattered. He loved him as much as I did.
Only he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand anything. Something inside me cried I should stop it now. I should tell him no and be done with it.
I didn’t believe Jeremy would be allowed to leave. It wouldn’t allow it. Or would it?
“Sarah, for God’s sake! Can’t you see it’s dangerous for him to stay here?” His voice lowered to a whisper. “With a maniac out there killing children? You’re involved in the case and now everyone knows it.” His eyes said even more. Because of you, and what you’re doing, Jeremy isn’t safe anymore. It was there in his eyes for me to see.
“Let me take him home with me.” He stood up with Jeremy in his arms. Jeremy was looking at both of us, torn between, his eyes large and puzzled. “I’ll protect him. He’ll be safe with me, I promise.”
“For how long?” I gulped, my heart racing as fast as my mind. Was it possible Jeremy could get away safely? Surely nothing could happen as long as his father had him? Surely, it only wanted me? If I stayed, couldn’t he go? If I stayed…
“Until this nut is caught or until it’s safe,” Jonathan said flatly. His eyes were fever bright and his voice was sharp. He was really worried. He really cared.
“Then I’ll bring him back. I promise. I miss him so much, Sarah.”
I thought he was going to say something else, but he didn’t and I would never know what it might have been. For a moment I almost wished there could have been something else and then it, too, passed. We lived in different worlds now, and mine was a very troubled and dangerous one at the moment. If Jeremy could escape? It was the best solution.
It only wanted me, after all. I needed to be sure my son was safe.
My confusion didn’t stop me. I made the decision and locked it in.
“All right. I agree. It’s about time he goes with you for a visit.” I touched his arm and felt sad he stiffened as I did. “But, Jonathan, only until everything’s under control or I think it’s safe for him to come home. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Sarah.” The voice was the same as I remembered it, the face, even the way he hugged Jeremy close to him, yet he wasn’t my Jonathan anymore. There were so many subtle changes I had to constantly remind myself he was Jonathan at all.
He spoke to Jeremy, “You’re coming to visit with me for a while, son, how would you like that?”
My son turned questioning eyes towards me and I smiled, nodding. “You go.”
“But, Mom—what if you need me?”
“I won’t. I have Ben and your Uncle Jim will be here soon. I’ll be fine.” What was so wrong about Jeremy going with his father for a simple visit? He would return. He wasn’t leaving fo
r good, I told myself. It was about time his father spent some time with him, and he’d be safe.
I sent Jeremy upstairs to get his clothes together, saying I’d help in a minute.
“Who’s Ben?” Jonathan grilled me the moment Jeremy left the room.
I smiled. I should have felt good knowing he cared enough to ask, but I didn’t. “A friend,” was all I said. “Why have you stayed away from our son so long? It’s been months.” I tried not to accuse him but I could hear the words coming out harshly anyway.
“You moved so far away. What was I supposed to do? Fly down every weekend? Remember, I’m not rich.” He was instantly on the defensive.
“A telephone call doesn’t cost as much as a plane ticket,” I reminded him. I didn’t give him a chance to answer but went upstairs to help Jeremy pack. I knew I was being unfair but the man standing down there was someone I’d once trusted. He’d betrayed me in every way, and not only with another woman. He’d broken every promise he’d ever made. Especially the one that said, until death do us part. There was no way I could make him understand how he’d let me and his son down. He wouldn’t get it. He never had.
There were no easy answers. Jonathan no doubt had his reasons for what he’d done, but I’d never truly know or understand them. He’d never enlighten me now; I was sure of that. Either he wouldn’t or couldn’t.
Jeremy was stuffing his clothes into my old suitcase. “Everything will be wrinkled if you do it like that.” I took over. I neatly refolded everything he’d need for a week. Too much had happened and I felt as if I were in shock. Jenny’s death. The old spiteful gossip about me and my family. The newspapers.
Jonathan was downstairs waiting to take Jeremy away. I shook my head trying to clear it. Was this really happening? Was Jonathan going to take my son?
“It’s enough, Mom,” Jeremy protested. “I’m not going away for a year. I’ll be back in a few days, right?”
My son took my hand and smiled up at me as he sat on his bed. A short while ago he’d shed tears for his dead friend. I steeled myself against emotion or selfishness. I didn’t want him to go, but I knew he had to. It would be safer for him away from this place. It’d also get his mind off Jenny’s death, and most of all, he needed his father right now. He’d missed him terribly these last months. He’d never hid it very well from me. I didn’t realize until now what seeing his father again, really meant to him. I had to let him go.
When he was ready I went downstairs with him, my hand on his skinny shoulder. I hugged him so tightly he complained. “I’ll miss you so much, son,” I said, my voice muffled in his shoulder. I didn’t want to let him go. I tagged after them to Jonathan’s car.
“You’ll telephone me every day, won’t you?” I made Jeremy promise. As he got into the car it was as if my heart were going with him. There was a feeling of endings, as if nothing would ever be the same again.
Jonathan gave me a frozen smile as he started the car. Jeremy waved at me through the window, trying not to cry. I could stop him still, I thought frantically as the car began to move away. I walked along beside it as it backed down the driveway. I had a sickening premonition that somehow this wasn’t right. How could I let Jeremy out of my sight? How could I be sure he’d be safe? But then, how could I take care of him when I couldn’t guarantee my own well-being? The scars on my arm sent out a twinge of pain.
The car’s shiny paint glinted in the sunlight and I stood and wiggled my fingers goodbye as it pulled away and gathered speed. Jonathan was intent on his driving. I saw him turn and smile down at our son. My heart was heavy, I gasped and wrapped my arms tighter around me. The car disappeared down the road and into the sun.
Dazed, I looked around and then at my empty arms. I stifled a cry and trudged back alone into our home. Without Jeremy, it wasn’t a home. It was only a house. It had all happened too swiftly, Jonathan’s arrival and their departure. I was numb.
I shouldn’t have let Jeremy go. But it was too late. It was done and for whatever reason I’d let it happen there was no changing it now. He’d said he’d call every day and I could always have Jonathan bring him home. Or could I? The thought plagued me as I fixed a strong cup of coffee and got myself together. I was lost without my son and the knowledge shook me. Had I come to depend on him so much I couldn’t bear him out of my sight?
It was best he’d gone, then.
The day moved on like any other day, yet the house was full of echoes and shadows which pulled at me and made me anxious. Weary. So many times I found myself in Jeremy’s room, staring at his things as if he’d died and not gone away for a short visit. I found myself wondering if I’d dreamed everything, as if I couldn’t believe what I’d done. I knew I was being silly. There was something wrong with me. It was probably strain and the fact I missed my son. It seemed strange to have him gone when he’d been so close all these months.
Not to mention the shock of seeing Jonathan again. It had taken all the wind out of my sails for sure.
I ripped into the house with a vengeance. I cleaned everything I could lay my hands on and pushed my fears and unpleasant thoughts out of my mind. Jeremy was fine. He was with his father. He was safe. Accept it and forget it. Calm down.
I telephoned Ben, no answer, and when the phone began ringing like crazy and it wasn’t him or Jim, I fled the house. I drove to the shopping center and walked around window shopping like a zombie for hours, trying to act oblivious to the stares and finger pointing of people who recognized me as the face on the front page. I finally put on a pair of sunglasses and wrapped a scarf around my hair. I wasn’t ready to go home. I couldn’t.
When darkness slipped in I reluctantly went back and tried to call Ben yet again. I felt guilty I hadn’t been there most of the day to receive the call from Jim I’d been expecting and wondered where he was and why he hadn’t phoned yet. I told myself I had to get an answering machine as soon as possible. Jonathan had taken the old one to his new home. The heck with this waiting for a call.
I was never so glad to see Ben as I was that evening when he showed up looking frazzled. I ran straight into his arms.
“What a welcome. I should come over more often.” He pushed me away to study my face. “You’d better tell me now—what’s wrong? You look upset.” There was a gentle concern in his voice. I told him about Jonathan and about sending Jeremy away.
He held me in his arms and didn’t say a word.
I asked him in a whisper if I’d done the right thing.
“You did. You positively did.” He stroked my hair and held me tighter.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The bus jostled its tired passengers through the long night. Jim dozed or stared out the window into the dark, thinking. He calculated he should be home in a couple of hours, if nothing happened. It would be none too soon. He had the feeling they weren’t alone on this dark highway—something was tracking them.
But Jim was so exhausted he didn’t care. If he was meant to make it, he would, it was all there was to it. His face was haggard and the man beside him thought he was sick. Which was fine with Jim, as the guy left him pretty much alone.
His friends, anyone his life had touched lately, had a way of coming to harm or death. Nothing new about it as it’d happened before. Jim didn’t want to involve or talk to anyone. They were safer that way.
When he first detected the sleek white Buick, it was speeding to pass the bus, beeping its horn and flashing its headlights as if it were in a big hurry to get somewhere. Jim remembered thinking it was going too damn fast and when it finally passed them on a precarious curve, it came too close for comfort.
“What the hell?” Jim sat up, blinked, as it raced by in a white flash.
Another inch and it would have left white paint along the side of the bus. Then it was gone.
“That car was really moving, huh?” the man on his left rema
rked.
“Yeah.” For some reason Jim couldn’t forget the Buick. It’d looked so familiar.
An hour went by, and he bounced back and forth between sleep and consciousness. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a white flash. It was the Buick again. The car had passed them so fast and so many miles ago, it should have been in Alaska by now. How could it be right behind the bus, gaining and crowding them? It had to be another car but not the same. His eyes, heavy-lidded with lack of sleep, must be playing tricks on him.
The white Buick honked wildly and passed them as the other one had. Very close, too close. Jim fumed and scowled through the window as the tail lights winked out up ahead of them. Something slithered in his memory and his hand nervously gripped the seat in front of him. What was there about the car bothering him so much?
“The car—” he started to say to his seat mate but glanced over before he finished. The man was asleep, so he wouldn’t have seen it recklessly whiz by.
It was raining outside, a fine drizzle lightly tapped on the roof and windows. Through the glass the wind was slapping at the trees. He’d unconsciously been waiting, so he wasn’t surprised when the car reappeared behind them a few miles down the road. There was a funny buzzing in his head as his eyes traced its progress. This time it didn’t pass them right away. It drew up beside the bus and maintained the same speed for a long time.
It was the exact same car. The inside was in shadows, so Jim couldn’t see who was driving. All of a sudden it crashed into the side of the bus and rebounded away, still keeping pace alongside as before. The bus jolted slightly.
“What the hell does that idiot think he’s doing?” The bus driver yelped.
The man on Jim’s left was wide awake now and his eyes were wide in disbelief, as he watched the car head in for another hit. The bus lurched and people began to shout and cry out.
“If he keeps it up, he’ll force us off the road!” The bus driver swore, yanking the wheel to the left as the car made contact again. He fought to keep the bus on the road. “That nut’s gonna cause an accident if he don’t cut it out! Damn!”
Evil Stalks the Night Page 29