David was living in another world. Their worlds would never meet again, she thought in raw anguish. Hadn’t she realized long ago that the timing was never right for David and her?
Chapter 30
PHIL WAS FIGHTING YAWNS as he hurried into the restaurant to meet his father for breakfast. When was the old man going to stop this routine? Still leaving Greenwich at 5:50 A.M. five mornings a week. Expecting him here no later than eight. Hell, he’d earned the right to come into the office at 9:30 or 10—to by-pass the breakfast shit.
He stared in surprise when he saw his father was not alone in their booth. The old man had dragged the P.I. here this morning. He slowed down as he saw the man rise from the booth. Whatever the old man said, the P.I. was pissed. He stared in recognition at Phil and strode past him without a word.
“What was that all about?” Phil asked as he slid into his seat.
“I just fired the bastard,” Julius told him. “We know she’s been back for five weeks now, and he still can’t come up with an address.” His father never referred to Kathy by name—it was always “she.”
“I told you, Dad. We can’t hire the creep for two days a week and expect results.” His impatience surfaced despite his intention of staying cool. “He’s got to be out there every day until he comes up with what we want.” The old man was always trying to cut corners at the wrong time.
“We’re hiring somebody new. I got the name of this hotshot guy. He’s cutting our throats with his fancy fees, but I’ve had enough of this.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “Call him. Set up an appointment as soon as you can. We’re nailing her.”
The private investigator Julius wanted to hire stalled them for another two weeks, until he completed a current assignment. Then he went to work. Two days later he called Phil to report that Kathy took a train from Grand Central each night.
“She could be anywhere along the line. Tomorrow night I’ll be on the train with her,” he promised. “After that it should be a breeze.”
Three mornings later he phoned to give them definite information regarding Kathy’s address.
“She’s in a house on East Mount Airy Road in Croton-on-Hudson. The name on the mail box says ‘Moses,’ but she’s living there. She picked up a gray Dodge Coronet and drove to the house.”
“She could be visiting,” Phil pointed out in irritation. Moses didn’t ring any bells with him, but then he didn’t know all of her friends. “How do you know she’s living there?”
“I was back out there at 6 A.M. to follow through. She drove to the Harmon station a little past seven. She wore different clothes.”
“Did you see a kid anywhere around?” Phil pushed. This might be it. “A little boy about nine. No,” he corrected himself, searching his mind for dates. “He’ll be eleven in June.”
“They’ve got this long driveway—it must run back three or four hundred feet from the road. There’s no way I can see into the house without digging up an excuse to get back there.”
“Then find an excuse,” Phil ordered. “Or park below, walk up in the dark. I want to be sure the kid’s there.”
“If he’s around eleven, he’ll be in school—the school year isn’t over yet. I’ll pull off on East Mount Airy a hundred feet or so past their driveway,” the P.I. decided. “I’ll let you know if the little boy lives there.”
Shortly past nine the next morning, the new investigator called Phil.
“There’s a little boy living there in the house,” he reported. “I saw him get on the school bus.”
“Great! I’ll call you later in the day with further instructions.”
Phil sat gazing into space for a moment. They knew where Kathy lived. She had Jesse with her. The name on the mailbox was a dodge. He tingled in satisfaction. The little bitch thought she was so smart.
He left his office and went to tell his father the news. He waited impatiently until Julius completed a lengthy call to London. He suspected it had been an incoming call. The old man would make a London call billed to them a short deal.
“Kathy’s living in Croton,” he said. “Jesse’s with her. Now we have to figure out how to get hold of him and—”
“Back up, Phil,” Julius rasped. “We’ve waited a long time for this. Let’s don’t mess it up. You want a divorce and custody of Jesse, right?”
“Right,” Phil agreed. Actually, he wasn’t so keen on full-time custody, he thought, but that was the road that would push the old man into turning over the stock. He’d do whatever it took. “So?”
“So let’s see you go into divorce court with evidence that guarantees she won’t walk off with any financial settlement, and that gives you custody of Jesse on the grounds that she’s an unfit mother.”
“That’ll be rough,” Phil warned.
“Look, any good-looking broad that’s come up as fast as she has must have been in a lot of beds. We’ll take our time, get enough to mess her up good, go into court. You get your divorce and Jesse. She gets shit. She’ll be sorry she ever tangled with us.” His eyes gleamed at the prospect of vengeance. “We’ll see her face splashed across the front pages of the News and the Mirror.”
“You’re talking about dirty scandal.” Phil felt a tinge of unease.
“So what?” Julius chuckled. “You’ll come out smelling like a rose, and she’ll get what’s coming to her. We won’t rush, we know where she is. Let’s just get the goods on her. It’s the old cat-and-mouse game, and she’s the mouse.”
This summer Kathy drove out to the Montauk house on Thursday evenings, remaining until very early Monday mornings. Usually Marge went out with her, so the weekends could become working periods. Jesse, Lee, and Harry were in full-time residence. At intervals Kathy’s parents and Aunt Sophie went out to stay with Jesse and Lee. Always Kathy was haunted by the fear that Jesse might be deprived of family.
“I’m keeping the house open all through the winter,” Kathy told Marge as their small entourage headed back to the city the Sunday morning before the school season opened. “I’ve hired a local handyman to keep an eye on things. The thermostat goes on fifty-five degrees as soon as the weather turns cool. I won’t have to worry about turning off the water that way.” Involuntarily, she remembered this had been how she and Phil handled the Greenwich house once they moved into the Fifth Avenue apartment. “You said you’d be going out to Fire Island next weekend, didn’t you?”
“I changed my mind.” Marge sighed. “It’s crazy. Every time I start to get involved with a man, I ask myself if he’s interested in Marge the woman or in Marge the designer with mucho money.”
“If you’re mad about somebody, you’ll forget that,” Kathy predicted.
“I guess I’m more mad about career,” Marge admitted. “And I resent the condescending attitude so many men take toward career women. If you’re a woman and you have a brain, you’re supposed to hide it. I’ve come too far, worked too hard to take second place.”
“Amen,” Kathy said softly.
In the fall the 4-S Shops launched another expansion. By the end of the year they would have shops in every major city in the country. In November Noel flew east for a weekend conference with Kathy and Marge at the Montauk house. Jesse was delighted to be spending that weekend with his grandparents and Aunt Sophie. It was a source of delight to Kathy that he felt so close to his grandparents and that there was an endearing relationship with his great-great-aunt.
“We’re entering a new age of flying,” Noel chortled as the three of them relaxed over espresso before the living room fireplace after hours of plotting their new business campaign. “Can you believe the new jets? They’re bringing the whole world close together. Now you can jet to London for the weekend.”
Did David ever fly to New York, Kathy asked herself. Was he married? He must be—he was seeing someone that time they met in Paris. Did he have a family? Why had he left Berlin for Copenhagen? These were questions that would never be answered for her.
In
mid-November—when Kathy was planning a family Thanksgiving at the Montauk house—she received a phone call from Noel. He was close to hysteria. Three hours ago Chris had been killed in a freakish accident.
“Why, Kathy?” Noel mourned. “He’s twenty-six years old with a brilliant career ahead of him. Why did this happen?”
At last off the phone with Noel—shaken and grieving—she called Marge, in Atlanta to make a personal appearance at their new shop down there. She knew that either she or Marge must fly immediately to be with Noel. His sister Wilma and he were on bad terms. An aunt and several cousins had distanced themselves from him when he abandoned hiding his homosexuality.
“I can’t believe it,” Marge said in stricken tones while they talked about Chris’s fatal accident—he had been killed by a falling chunk of granite from a downtown building. “We were already planning a big bash for his gallery opening next month.”
It was decided that Kathy would fly out immediately, see Noel through the agony of Chris’s funeral, and bring him back with her to New York. Marge would cut short her Atlanta trip and return to cover for Kathy.
Within hours Kathy was on a westbound flight. Distraught and haggard, Noel met her at the airport and took her home with him. She was grateful that Chris’s parents were not barring Noel from sharing in the plans for the funeral. Unlike Noel’s own family, Chris’s family was understanding and compassionate about the relationship between the two men. Chris had loved Noel, and that made him special to them.
Kathy decided that the day after Chris’s funeral she and Noel would fly to New York. She’d arrange for indefinite coverage at the West Coast offices. Noel would stay at the Croton house until he felt himself able to cope again.
From habit—even though his father was in Toronto on business—Phil stopped in for breakfast at their restaurant. He was restless, frustrated because Andrews—his father’s fancy P.I.—was coming up with nothing on Kathy. And until the divorce went through, the old man was not going to put the stock in his name, he reminded himself. Suppose Andrews never came up with dirt on Kathy?
Maybe it was time to make a move on his own. There was one quick way to make sure Kathy agreed to a divorce with no alimony, no up-front settlement. All at once he felt a surge of excitement, of towering optimism. To hell with what the old man said—this situation called for a bold move.
If he grabbed Jesse, Kathy would sign anything, as long as he agreed to visitation rights instead of full custody. Hell, he had no time to raise a kid. His father was off-track on that point. He could handle this. Get hold of that old P.I. they had in the beginning. That one was always hungry. He’d check him out as soon as he got to the office.
When he located the old P.I.’s number, Phil dialed it. He reached the answering service.
“Tell him to call me as soon as possible,” Phil instructed and gave his name and number. “Tell him it’s important.”
Forty minutes later the P.I. called him.
“I’ve got a job for you,” he began.
“Your father told me to get lost,” the man reminded, bristling.
“My father isn’t in on this,” Phil said tersely. “You want the job or not?”
“We can talk about it.”
“Meet me in ten minutes at the coffee shop across from the office,” Phil ordered. Not their regular place. He didn’t want to be seen there with the creep.
Phil headed for the coffee shop, found a rear booth that was unoccupied. Why the hell wasn’t the bastard here? His office—a hole-in-the-wall—was two blocks away. A few minutes later the P.I. arrived, looked around until he spied Phil. Somewhat belligerently he sauntered toward the booth.
“Sit down,” Phil told him, and launched into his proposition.
“Let me get this straight.” The P.I. was wary. “You’re asking me to kidnap the kid?”
“I’m asking you to bring the kid to his father. I’ll take it from there. Don’t you think my son wants to see me? Look, they can’t charge us with kidnapping when my wife ran off with him that way. A father has rights.”
“You say that. What’s a judge going to say if we get caught?” the P.I. shot back, but he was contemplative. “I could lose my license. But I know a guy who might be willing to pull it off for you.”
For a few minutes they quibbled over money. A fee for his bringing in the man, a fee for the man himself.
“Okay, it’s a deal,” Phil finally agreed. “Set it up for tomorrow afternoon when the kid gets home from school. I’ll fill in all the details.”
Phil met the hired kidnapper at the southwest corner of Broadway and 40th at 2 P.M. sharp. They’d drive up together to Croton and wait for Jesse to arrive on the school bus. The guy was nervous, Phil judged, but hungry for the thousand-dollar payoff.
They picked up Phil’s car, headed up toward the ramp and onto the highway. Traffic was light this time of day. The man was plying him with questions about the car. Probably the first time in his crummy life he’d been in a car that cost this kind of money.
“Look, suppose the kid don’t wanna come with me?” he asked Phil forty-five minutes later, when they were minutes from their destination.
“You put a hand over his mouth so he can’t yell, and you pick him up and carry him to the car,” Phil said bluntly. “I’ll be waiting there at the foot of the road. We won’t run into many cars along East Mount Airy,” he said with confidence. “Just get him into the car. Don’t rough him up,” he cautioned. “Tell him his father’s waiting to give him a fancy present.”
Phil consulted his watch. Timing was important here. Let them spot the school bus, follow it up that steep, winding hill. The school bus would stop to drop off Jesse. There was a four-hundred foot road up to the house. They’d catch him before he got there. Whoever was waiting inside for him couldn’t hear the school bus arrive. The woman—probably the housekeeper—would think the bus was late today when Jesse didn’t show up on schedule.
Phil drove slowly, watching for the bus. There it was. He felt a rush of anticipation as he followed it along East Mount Airy. He dropped to a crawl when the bus stopped at a rural mailbox marked “Moses.” A boy stepped down. Phil stared in disbelief. That was Jesse? God, he was as tall as Kathy!
“Get going,” Phil ordered the man, trying to brush aside unexpected apprehension. “Play it cool. ‘Your father is waiting down the road. He’s brought you a terrific present.’”
“Yeah—”
Phil watched the tall, wiry figure push through the winter-bare bushes and onto the property. He could handle Jesse even if the kid put up a fight. Battling anxiety, Phil thrust open the car door and stepped out for a clearer view.
He frowned, swore under his breath. The creep was scared shitless. Why didn’t he move? Don’t let Jesse get too close to the house. Talk him into coming down to the car. Grab him if he balks.
He was moving in on Jesse now. Jesse saw him. They were talking. They were too far away for him to hear what was being said. Speed it up, jerk!
All at once a woman appeared on the deck. A rifle in one hand.
“Get away from him!” the woman yelled. “Get away before I fill you full of lead!”
Damn, the jackass had botched it! Phil slid behind the wheel of the car and started up the motor. Moments later the would-be kidnapper stumbled into the car. Gray with terror.
“You fucking idiot!” Phil snarled and stepped hard on the gas pedal. “You screwed up the whole deal!”
“You didn’t tell me I might get shot,” the man whined. “You said it’d be a snap.”
“I’ll drive you back to town,” Phil told him. “Forget today ever happened.” If the old man found out about this, he’d be pissed. They’d tipped their hand. Kathy would guess they were on her trail. Hell!
“What about my money?” the man asked defiantly.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks for your trouble. And keep your mouth shut,” Phil repeated. “You don’t want to go up for attempted kidnapping.” That bitch at t
he house hadn’t seen him, Phil thought with shaky confidence. Nobody could prove anything.
Cold with shock, Kathy listened to Lee’s report of the incident with the intruder while Noel and Jesse went out for Harry’s last walk of the night.
“Harry didn’t hear a thing,” Lee told her. “He was fast asleep before the fireplace. But you would have died laughing if you saw me—” Lee was striving for a lighter note now. “There I was with that toy rifle Jesse’s friend left here last night. I’m pointing it at him and yelling, ‘Get away before I fill you full of lead!’ That’s what comes from watching those detective shows on TV.”
Now Jesse and Noel came into the house with Harry, who insisted on greeting Kathy all over again, as though he had not provided a joyous welcome on their arrival half an hour ago.
“Jesse—” Kathy strived not to show her anxiety. “Tell me again what that man said to you.”
“He said my father was in a car below, and he’d brought me a terrific present,” Jesse said somberly. He had only vague recall of Phil, Kathy reminded herself. He’d accepted the fact that—like some of his friends’ parents—she and Phil were divorced. “Was he there?” Curiosity stirring in him now, she thought with frustration.
“No, darling. It was just some bad person who knew I’d give him a lot of money to get you back.”
“You mean like ransom?” Jesse was awed that he had been the subject of such an effort. “Wow!”
“Jesse, tomorrow’s a school day. You take yourself off to bed,” Lee ordered.
“But Mom just came home,” he complained.
“And I’m here to stay,” Kathy reminded. “Off to bed. We’ll have breakfast together in the morning.”
She waited until she heard Jesse close his bedroom door.
“That had to be Phil,” she said tautly. “Oh Lee, if you hadn’t been looking through the window!”
“I always watch for Jesse when the bus is due,” Lee said.
“We have to move. I have to get Jesse away from this house—” He’d be upset at changing schools again, Kathy thought with anguish.
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