by E. C. Diskin
“Come on.” Meg turned, grabbed Lizzy and her bouncing chair, and Abby followed them to the large, round table by a giant bay of windows. The room was bright and filled with morning sun.
“I spend so much time in this house with this little terror,” Meg continued, as she carefully placed the baby and the chair on the table, “I’m just glad for some adult company. I’ve been on leave for four months. The only people I talk to are the workers and most of them don’t speak English.”
Meg seemed to be as laid back and easy going as Abby had imagined and hoped. “Nate mentioned that you’re doing some work here. It looks beautiful.”
“Thanks. We feel so lucky to have found it. The previous owners had lived here for sixty years. They took great care of it, but when we came to see it, it was like walking into a time machine. Nothing had been updated in like forty years. It was pretty funny.”
“Well, you’ve obviously already done this room,” Abby said, looking around at the sparkling stainless appliances.
“Yeah. We’re almost done with everything now. I’ve been working with this wonderful design firm. The woman has a great eye and she’s so easy to deal with. We’ve just got to finish the basement at this point.”
“How long did all this take?”
“It’s been like eight months. It wasn’t so bad when I was still at work, but once I had the peanut here and we’ve both been home, it’s like ‘Stop hammering!’”
Abby offered Lizzy a Cheerio from the pile of cereal on the table. Lizzy accepted the offer and grabbed Abby’s finger. Meg got up from the table then. “So, you hungry?”
She couldn’t even pretend. “God yes!” But then she felt bad. “Please don’t wait on me. I can help myself. You’ve got someone else to worry about.”
Meg stopped her. “Oh, don’t worry about it. You hang out with Lizzy. Looks like she likes you. I’ll make us some coffee. And how about an egg sandwich? I’ve got some ham and cheese and good muffins.”
“Sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And, Abby, please stay as long as you want. I really wouldn’t mind at all.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll think about it.” She hoped that this whole mess would be over today, but until they caught Callahan, she was happy to stay right here.
· · ·
MARCUS turned off Sheridan onto Deerpath. “Wow. Nice digs,” Duvane offered.
“Yeah. Should be just another block down.” Each home was unique. Most looked stately and old, like they were built in the early 1900s. They saw the number 502 on a gate and knew they had to be close. Just up here. One more. A giant hedge flanked an eight-foot-high iron gate. The gate was open. A gravel circular drive lead them to the front door. A red Porsche with gold hubcaps was parked out front. Marcus recognized it from the parking lot behind Weber Properties. He couldn’t forget those hubcaps.
He pointed at the car and mouthed to Duvane, “He’s here.”
They parked behind the Porsche and walked to the door. Marcus reached for the doorbell.
Duvane stopped his hand. “Now I know this guy got the better of you yesterday, but you’re going to stay cool, right?”
Marcus replied impatiently, “Of course.”
“Callahan has no reason to be jumpy. At least not until he sees you. Maybe you should stay out of sight for a minute. Let me go in. Keep this scene calm. Get him cuffed without some sort of panic.”
“Yeah, okay.” Marcus wanted to see the look on his face when the cuffs went on, but he knew that as soon as Callahan saw him, the wheels would turn and panic would set in. They had to play this right. He stepped back from the entry and remained hidden from sight with his gun drawn. Duvane rang the bell.
A woman in a black maid’s uniform opened the door. “Yes?”
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m looking for Trip Callahan. I believe that’s his car?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could you let him know that an old friend is here to see him?”
“I’m sorry, sir. But he just left. He and his mama went off together. Just about fifteen minutes ago. Should I tell him who came by?”
“Can you tell me where they went?”
“No, sir.”
“Ma’am, this is an official police matter.” He flashed his badge. “You need to tell me where they are.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know.”
TWENTY-NINE
MEG brought the sandwich over to Abby with a few pieces of fruit. The smell of brewing coffee filled the room. Abby thanked Meg and took a bite. Cheese dripped from her mouth. Lizzy watched and giggled.
“See, we’re both messy eaters!” Abby said to Lizzy. The baby now had oatmeal covering most of her face and hands. “Yum!” Abby added with exaggeration for Lizzy’s entertainment.
She turned to Meg, back at the stove. “This is great.”
Meg was working on her own. “Good. I make one for myself almost every day.” Sounded like a much better start than the Dunkin’ Donuts muffin Abby usually ate.
“I see why.”
The doorbell rang. Abby perked up. Marcus. Please be here with some good news.
Meg looked toward the hall. “Shoot. Abby, would you watch the stove for me?”
“Sure.” Abby got up from the table, with sandwich in hand, and took over at the stove. She listened to Meg’s slippers shuffle along the tile in the hall.
“Hi Margaret! I forgot you were coming this morning,” Meg said.
A woman’s voice replied. “I hope this is a good time.”
“Of course. Come on in.”
And then Abby heard the woman again, “And you remember my son? I think you met when he picked me up here a couple of weeks ago?”
Meg replied. “Sure, hello again. Is it Thomas?”
“Good memory. But everyone calls me Trip. You’re Meg, right?” the son asked.
Abby almost dropped the spatula. A chill crawled up her spine and into her scalp. Her heart pounded wildly. She surveyed the room. Lizzy in her chair; the egg, sizzling in front of her.
“Well, come on in,” she heard Meg continue. The footsteps on tile got louder and louder. “Would either of you like some coffee? I was just making breakfast for Lizzy and my friend, Abby.”
Abby darted into the dining room. She could still hear them.
“Hey, Abby, this is my…, Abby?” She heard Meg go to the stove and move the frying pan off the heat. “Well, that’s weird. I’ll introduce you in a moment. So, who wants coffee?”
Both voices said “Me!”
Abby peered into the doorway. Callahan and his mother were standing by the stove with Meg. Lizzy was looking at her, smiling and cooing and reaching out toward her. Abby tucked back out of sight, tiptoed through the living room, slid along the tile in the front hall, and ran upstairs. The guest room was straight ahead. She grabbed her cell and called Marcus.
“Henton here.”
“Marcus, he’s here!”
“What? Abby? Callahan?”
“I’m at Nate’s house and Callahan just walked in the front door!”
“He’s at Walters’ in Wilmette!” she heard him repeat.
“Where are you?”
“Duvane and I just left Callahan’s parents’ house in Lake Forest. We’re not far. We’re on the way! Don’t move, Abby. How could he know you’d be there?”
“I don’t think he did. I can’t believe—”
“Stay out of sight. We’re coming!”
Abby closed the phone and went back into the hall and listened over the railing. She needed to know if he knew she was here. She could hear them chatting but couldn’t quite make out the words. She went down a few more stairs to hear better. Then a few more.
· · ·
TRIP took his coffee, walked to the window, and looked out into the backyard. Just hearing the name Abby had his blood pumping. It had to be a coincidence. She’s dead. He looked around the room. Whose house was this, anyway?
“So, Meg,” he b
egan casually. “How’s motherhood?” He sat at the table with Lizzy and offered her a Cheerio.
“It’s great,” Meg offered with a big smile. “Maternity leave is a tad challenging, but motherhood is great.”
“What do you do?”
She brought her coffee toward the table where Lizzy sat. His mother followed. “I’m a lawyer.”
“Oh,” he continued, leading her right where he wanted. “Is your husband one, too?”
“Isn’t that how it always seems to go? Yes. Though we don’t work together.”
“I know several lawyers in the city. What’s his name?” Trip took a sip and looked around the room for clues.
“Nate. Nathan Walters.”
The coffee caught in his throat and he coughed. He looked around and brushed his right foot against his ankle holster. It was there.
His mother reached over and touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, the coffee just got stuck in my throat.” He turned back to Meg. “I don’t know that name. You said you have a friend visiting?”
“Yeah, an old friend of Nate’s. She should be right back.”
“Is she single?” his mother joked. “I’m always on the lookout for a nice girl for my son.”
Meg played along. “Well, from what I’ve heard, Abby is single and quite a catch. So, who knows?” She smiled at Trip.
His mother’s smile faded when she turned to him. “Trip, you look pale. Are you feeling okay?”
His head was spinning. He ignored his mother. Reilly said she was dead. He had to know for sure. He continued to stare at his coffee mug as he addressed Meg. “I know an Abby. I wonder if it’s the same one.”
“I don’t know. Abby Donovan? She and my husband grew up together in Georgia.”
Trip froze with his coffee halfway to his mouth. His tongue went dry. “No. Not the same.” He put down the mug and got up from the table, heading for the hall. “Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure. It’s right under the stairs in the hall.”
· · ·
HE knows. Abby scurried out of the hall to the dining room when she heard Callahan walk toward the bathroom. His footsteps got louder. He wasn’t going to the bathroom. He was looking for her. Abby moved further into the dining room, looking for a place to hide. She ducked under the table. Lizzy spotted her through the doorway and began making noises while lifting her arms toward Abby. “Shhh,” Abby softly pleaded.
“Abby?” Meg spotted her.
Her heart was pounding. Abby cautiously stepped into the kitchen.
· · ·
TRIP turned back when he heard her name. He walked back into the kitchen just as Abby entered from the dining room. They stared at each other.
“Looking for me?” Abby stood between Meg and his mother.
“Oh, hello!” His mother stood immediately and offered her hand. “You must be Meg’s friend.”
Abby did not reply.
Trip stepped back toward the women. He never took his eyes off Abby.
“What’s going on here?” Meg asked.
“Are you surprised to see me?” Abby asked.
He smiled and began to bend down.
“Stop!” Abby yelled. “Meg, please take Lizzy and get out of here. Callahan, it’s all over. The police will be here any minute. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“What’s this about?” his mother insisted.
“Your son kidnapped me yesterday, ma’am. Drugged me and left me to die in a motel room.”
Meg nervously stood and began lifting Lizzy from her chair.
Trip laughed and shook his head.
“That’s absurd!” his mother responded. “Trip?”
“Mom, remember I told you about that lawyer I was dating. Here she is.”
“What?” replied all the women.
“Meg, get out of here!” Abby shouted.
Trip grabbed his gun from his ankle holster and pointed it at Meg. “Don’t move.”
“Trip, what are you doing?” cried his mother.
“Don’t!” Abby cried.
“Shut up! All of you!” Trip’s gaze remained fixed on Meg and he held the gun with both hands, pointed at her face. “This bitch has caused me more problems….” His hands felt shaky. “Just shut up!”
Lizzy started crying and Meg tried to sooth her.
Abby spoke. “You want me, Trip. Not anyone else.”
He was still looking at Meg and the baby but he could see Abby in his periphery.
“So come and get me!”
He turned to Abby’s voice and fired the gun, but she was gone. The bullet shattered the window behind them. Meg and Trip’s mother screamed. Lizzy cried harder and louder. Trip ran into the dining room.
· · ·
DUVANE and Marcus slammed the car door shut just as the shot rang out. He looked back at Duvane. “Did you hear that?”
Both men pulled their weapons, instinctively crouched toward the ground, and scurried toward the house. Marcus motioned to Duvane. He’d head around the back as Duvane began looking through the front windows.
Marcus went to the backyard and peered through the windows. He looked into what appeared to be a study. No sign of life. Suddenly, he saw Callahan with gun drawn, creeping around the corner. Marcus stood firm, pointed his gun and yelled, “Freeze!”
Callahan turned to the voice and fired. Marcus ducked as the bullet shattered the glass window between them. He looked back. Callahan was gone.
Marcus ran further along the building. He saw nothing in the living room and continued past the dining room and came up to the kitchen windows. Two women were huddled in a corner, one holding a baby. Marcus knocked on the glass and motioned for them to open the door. “Police,” he mouthed. The older woman quickly opened the door.
“Where are they?” Marcus whispered.
She shook her head frantically. “I don’t know.”
The younger woman chimed in from the corner. “He has a gun. Abby said he kidnapped her!”
“Both of you, don’t move. Get back on the ground. Don’t come out until I say.”
Marcus silently stepped into the dining room. He caught a glimpse of a shirt in the hall.
“Freeze!” Callahan turned and fired at Marcus. He fired back and ran toward the man.
Another gunshot rang out and a window shattered. Marcus went into the front hall and saw Duvane clutching his arm on the ground outside. Marcus turned to the empty living room. He shouted, “Thomas Callahan, you’re under arrest! Don’t make this worse for yourself!” Marcus slowly moved through the room with gun at the ready and continued. “There are a lot of innocent people here. Your mother for one. A baby. Don’t make this any worse.” He walked through the dining room and looked back into the kitchen area at the women in the corner.
“How could this get any worse?”
Marcus turned to Callahan’s voice. Callahan was standing just inside the dining room by the hall, with his gun pointed at Marcus. Marcus’s gun wasn’t aimed at him. He made a slight move. Callahan cocked the trigger.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
Marcus moved slightly to face him. “Surprise.”
“I guess I’ll have to kill you both again.”
Marcus didn’t move. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.” The bathroom door under the stairwell began to open.
Callahan chuckled. “Yeah, I bet you do.” He lifted the gun slightly, closed an eye to perfect the shot, and straightened his firing arm. Abby was behind him. Lifting something big and white over her head. Whack. The weight of it came down hard against Callahan’s head. Abby dropped it. Callahan collapsed on the ground, dropping his gun. The white object shattered as it hit the tile floor. Marcus moved in with his gun pointed at Callahan, rolled him onto his back, and put all of his weight on top as he grabbed his arms and pulled out his cuffs.
· · ·
ABBY fell to the ground.
“Abby!” Meg’s voice called out fro
m the kitchen.
“It’s okay!” Marcus shouted toward the kitchen. Meg and Callahan’s mother ran into the room. Lizzy was still in Meg’s arms.
“Trip!” His mother ran and crouched at his side. He was regaining consciousness.
Marcus forced Callahan to stand and ushered him outside. Callahan’s mother followed. “What’s happening?” She was pleading for information as they went out the front door.
“Abby!” Meg ran to her and they hugged.
“Meg, I’m so sorry!” She looked at Lizzy then, flushed and puffy from tears. “Lizzy! Hey, baby girl. I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” She was shaking her head. “I can’t believe I brought this into your house.” She couldn’t speak anymore.
“We’re okay! We’re okay!”
Abby looked around at the shattered porcelain surrounding them. “I broke it.”
“What is that, anyway?”
“The lid to your toilet tank.”
Meg let out a chuckle. “Are you telling me that you nailed him with my toilet?”
Abby smiled then. “Guess I did.”
THIRTY
WHEN the doorbell rang the next morning, Abby looked out the front window from the hall. It was Marcus.
Nate shouted, “I’ve got it!” from the kitchen. Abby went back into the guest room, grabbed her things, and walked down the hall to the nursery. Meg was sitting in a chair, rocking Lizzy.
“Okay, I’m heading out. Thanks again for the clothes,” she said as she posed in the blue business suit.
“Hey, that looks good on you!”
“Well, it’s lucky for me we’re the same size.”
“Well, at one point we were. Take your time returning it. I’ve got some baby weight to lose anyway.”
Abby walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Meg, you look beautiful. And you’re the nicest person on the whole planet. After everything that happened here yesterday, I….” She didn’t know what else to say. “Thank you for everything.”
Meg stood then. “You know what they say: A traumatic event brings people together! I can tell we’re going to be great friends. Now get out of here. You’re late.”
“Okay. Thanks. Thanks for everything.” She planted a kiss on Lizzy’s head. “Bye, baby girl!”