Stolen in the Night

by MacDonald, Patricia

  “Brrr…the weather’s changing,” Ben said, coming back into the house with the puppy. “You finding what you wanted?”

  The transcript was open on her lap, but Tess’s attention was distracted. “I was just looking at that painting,” she said truthfully. “It’s really nice.” It looked as if it had been painted in a forest and the shadows on the woman’s averted face had a tinge of green in the gray.

  “Oh, thank you,” he said. “I painted that.”

  Tess saw no reason to pretend not to know he was a widower. “Is it a painting of your wife?” she asked.

  Ben looked away from the painting. “Yeah,” he said brusquely.

  Tess reddened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend…”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “Sometimes I forget it’s there.”

  Tess nodded. “I understand that,” she said. “I’ve had a lot of that lately.”

  He frowned at her. “A lot of what?”

  “Well, you think you’ve adjusted to a loss and then something reminds you. It jumps up and grabs you by the throat when you least expect it.”

  Ben’s gaze returned to the painting. He shook his head. “I’m over it,” he said.

  Liar, she thought. But instead she said, “It’s a beautiful painting. You have some talent.”

  Ben shrugged dismissively. “It won’t pay the rent.” Ben gave his dog a treat and then pulled out a chair from the dining table and sat down, facing Tess. “So are you going to tell me what you’re looking for in there?” he asked, nodding toward the transcript.

  Tess hesitated. He had asked for nothing in return for showing her the transcript. A little part of her wanted to see what he thought of her theory. Clearly he was intelligent. His opinion would be interesting. She decided to share her thoughts and hoped it wasn’t a mistake. “I’ve been wondering if Lazarus might have had an accomplice,” said Tess.

  Ben frowned. “You think Lazarus Abbott had an accomplice?” he asked.

  For a moment she thought of the photo of Ken Phalen and she hesitated. No, she thought. She had to stop second-guessing herself. “Lazarus was the man I saw that night, no matter what you—or anybody—might think.”

  “You could be right,” said Ben. He turned his head and looked out through the screen porch windows to the lake. Dark clouds were beginning to blow up and the temperature was falling. A sudden breeze whipped dry leaves against the mesh of the screens.

  “What?” Tess finally asked as he sat silently.

  “Nothing. It’s an interesting idea,” he said. “It’s possible. And, if you’re right, there might be some clue in those proceedings as to who it might be.”

  “Well, I know it’s not what you want to hear after the great DNA revelation,” she said. “You don’t want to think that he might have been involved after all.”

  Ben Ramsey sighed and leaned over, absently stroking the pup’s head as it nestled at his feet. Tess was shocked to feel a moment of envy for the puppy as she wondered how it would feel to have those fingers touch her skin with that languid stroke. She forced herself to look away, to concentrate on his words.

  “No. You’re wrong. I don’t have anything invested in the innocence of Lazarus Abbott. He seemed to have been a man with a troubled life and very few redeeming qualities. He may well have acted with an accomplice.”

  “But…”

  Ben hesitated and seemed to struggle in choosing his words. “Is it possible that you’ve hated Lazarus Abbott for so long that this might be a way to keep him somehow…tied to the crime?”

  Tess froze, and stared at him without replying.

  Ben took a deep breath. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, Tess. But even if he did have an accomplice, that doesn’t change the fact that Lazarus Abbott’s execution was a mistake that can never be rectified. He was executed for a crime he didn’t commit,” Ben said calmly. “Even if he had ten accomplices, that wouldn’t justify his execution.”

  Tess struggled to control her temper. She should never have confided in him. She replied to him in a clipped tone of voice. “I get that. Believe it or not, I do get it.”

  Ben nodded. “I’m sure you do.”

  Tess gazed at him. “The death penalty. That’s what this is all about for you. Your opposition to the death penalty.”

  Ben looked at her grimly. “Obviously, it’s something I feel strongly about. I mean, I don’t blame crime victims for wanting vengeance. But to give the state the authority to take vengeance is completely irrational. Particularly because it is meted out arbitrarily. If you’re rich, you escape it. If you’re poor, maybe not.”

  “Don’t forget the fact that it’s not proven to be a deterrent,” said Tess coldly. “You left that out.”

  Ben looked a little sheepish. “You’ve heard all this before.”

  Tess shook her head. “You have no idea,” she said. “None.”

  Ben Ramsey grimaced. “I’m sorry, Tess. I know it’s personal for you in a way that I could never understand.”

  “You’re right about that,” she said.

  He did not flinch from the anger in her eyes. “I know my view is very…different from the victim’s perspective.”

  “Just for your information, my parents were always opposed to the death penalty. My father was a very intelligent man—a professor at MIT. He considered capital punishment barbaric. Until his own daughter was raped and murdered. Then it ceased to be a philosophical question for him.”

  “He changed his mind?” Ben asked.

  Tess thought about her reply. “No. It wasn’t that simple. He was torn apart. He had no peace of mind either way. I can remember hearing him and my brother having screaming battles about it. Jake would accuse him of betraying Phoebe’s memory.”

  “But that’s a puerile argument,” Ben insisted. “I mean, either you believe in a principle or you don’t. If it applies to the killer of your own daughter, why not to the killers of other men’s daughters? I can’t imagine an intelligent man not seeing the contradiction.”

  Tess rose abruptly to her feet, trembling, and shoved the transcript under her arm. “Well, you’re lucky, you know. There’s nothing like consistency. It’s so…reassuring. And easy. You never had to hear your own father locked in his study weeping. I have to go now.”

  Ben looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry, Tess. I’ve had so many arguments about this over this years. I forget sometimes that we’re talking about people’s real lives. I didn’t mean any offense. Truly.”

  Tess gazed at him coldly. “None taken,” she lied.

  CHAPTER 13

  Leo stood at the foot of the steps barking frantically.

  “Take it easy, buddy,” said Jake. “Take it easy. Stay there. I’ll be right back.” Jesus, he thought. What the hell happened? The mild day had vanished. The sky had turned dark and the wind was up.

  Jake ran into the house and over to Sally, who was still in the same spot on the floor, leaning against the sofa.

  “Whose dog is that barking?” Sally asked.

  “It’s my mom’s dog. He was out running around with my nephew. I hope the kid’s okay. The dog just came back by himself,” said Jake as he reached under her arms and lifted Sally up. She was virtually weightless, but she let out a cry of pain as he pulled her to her feet.

  “Where do you want to be?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t say upstairs or something. He could hear Leo barking and his anxiety about Erny was mounting.

  “Over there,” said Sally, pointing to a love seat that was centered under a painting of a beautiful blonde girl in a debutante gown. Sally’s cane was leaning against the settee. Jake guided her over to the love seat, practically lifting her off her feet to speed the process. “There you go,” he said, setting her down.

  She slowly unwound her arm from around his shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m lucky you saw me.”

  “You should have one of those medic alerts,” he said. “So you could call someone.�
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  “I probably should,” Sally said grimly.

  “Are you okay now?” he asked. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Go ahead,” she said. “Go. I hope everything’s okay.”

  No kidding, Jake thought. Erny, what the hell happened? He was working up an angry head of steam, not allowing himself to think that some harm might have come to the boy. He could not picture himself telling that to Tess. Not possible. Not after…all that had happened. Hooking a leash onto Leo’s collar, he began to lope up the steep driveway while being tugged along by the dog. When he’d come down the driveway in the truck, he’d scarcely noticed how long and hilly it was. Running up it was a different story. It was uphill to the first rise and then he started down the slope on the other side, pausing to holler out, “Erny! Answer me. Time to go.” His voice seemed to vanish in the rising wind. Where is that damn kid, he thought? I told him not to go too far.

  Leo was whining, straining at the leash. “Where is he, Leo?” Jake demanded aloud. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should let Leo loose and try to follow him. The dog could move much faster than he could, but at least Leo would lead him in the right direction. Finally, Jake unhooked the leash. “Go get Erny,” he said.

  Leo bounded off, disappearing into the orchard, a honey-colored blur. Jake hurried after him, trying to trace the dog’s path through the trees. In the distance he could hear Leo barking.

  “Erny, goddammit! Where are you?” Jake shouted. He didn’t know if Erny was the type of kid who lost track of time or routinely disobeyed. Tess had never said anything negative about him that he could remember, although Jake didn’t always pay that much attention when the talk turned to children. “Erny!” he cried.

  Jake came out of the orchard and loped past the gardener’s shed and toward the pond. He veered away from the orderly rows of plants and began to climb past a rock garden that led to the water’s edge. Jake’s heart was racing, both from anxiety and the exertion.

  Leo’s barking sounded closer as Jake entered another copse of trees whose bare branches extended out over the pond. Jake gazed around the gloomy little glen. All of a sudden, halfway around the pond’s perimeter, he saw the dog’s golden brown coat. Leo was at the edge of the water, barking. Jake looked closer. Lying facedown near Leo’s feet he saw the shape of a dark-haired child, dressed in black Nike hip-hop sneaks and a sweatshirt.

  Jake felt a thud in the pit of his stomach. “Erny,” he whispered. He ran around the pond, toward his nephew. “Shit. Erny,” he cried.

  But there was no reply.

  Jake stumbled to where Erny lay, his heart pounding. The boy was lying still on the mossy bank. Beside him on the bank was a fishing pole the boy had fashioned from a tomato plant stake and a piece of twine, with a little metal lure tied to the end. “Goddammit,” Jake cried. “You couldn’t wait. Oh my God. What happened? Erny, wake up.”

  MR. HALL: Now, Dr. Belknap, you have examined Lazarus Abbott. We have heard testimony from teachers and family friends about the abuse that he endured at the hands of his stepfather. Can you tell the court what effect that abuse may have had on his psychological development?

  DR. BELKNAP: Well, it had a deleterious effect on him, obviously. He was very frightened of his stepfather. Terrified, actually. It seemed to Lazarus that he could not escape the wrath of Nelson Abbott, no matter what he did, and his stepfather’s temper would erupt with no warning. As a result, Lazarus lived a secretive life, knowing instinctively that he had to conceal all the normal, developmental impulses that a teenage boy has in an effort to avoid his stepfather’s punishments. In his mind, sexual thoughts and feelings became connected to the idea of violent punishment. In this way, his disorder was formed.

  Tess lowered the transcript and reached for the mug of tea on the night table beside her bed with a trembling hand. When she’d returned from Ben Ramsey’s, she’d looked for her mother but Dawn had not been around. Tess had brewed herself a cup of tea and took it and the trial transcript to the bed in her room, and huddled under a quilt there, exactly as a sick child might curl up after having been sent home from school. The wind, which had risen when she returned from Ramsey’s house, was blowing fiercely now and the sky had darkened. She looked anxiously from the gloom outside the window to Erny’s hastily made bed, worrying about him being caught outside in the rain. Would Jake think to keep him dry? she wondered. She didn’t want Erny to get sick.

  Trying not to fret, Tess returned to the transcript. When she had first opened it, she had turned immediately to the record of her own testimony at the trial as if it were a code that, once broken, would unlock a doorway back to the child she had been. Although she still remembered sitting in that witness box, her own words proved unfamiliar. She had no memory of the questions she was asked, nor the way she responded. Still, reading those words so long after the fact, she had felt her heart aching for the child that she had been, answering bravely and clearly, telling the story of her sister’s abduction without faltering.

  After she had read her own testimony, she had reread the sentencing phase of the trial. A number of witnesses had come forward during that part to attest to the cruelty Lazarus Abbott had suffered, both at home and from the bullying of other children. One of his teachers from grade school, the pastor of the Abbotts’ church, and a friend of Edith’s named Josephine Kiley had come forward to tell the same story. The psychologist tried to put all the testimony into perspective for the jury. Of course Tess knew how it ended. The jury had remained unmoved. They had voted unanimously for the death penalty.

  Tess sipped her tea. For the first time that she could remember, Tess began to feel pity for Lazarus Abbott. It was clear to her from reading the testimony that while Lazarus may have been a warped young man, he was not entirely his own creation. He had been the butt of jokes at school. And at home, it was obvious that Nelson Abbott had shaped his nature with his cruelty.

  She sighed, set down her mug, and returned to the grim testimony.

  All of a sudden, the door to the bedroom opened and Dawn stood on the threshold, her eyes anxious, her lips pressed together.

  Tess looked up at her. “Mom, you’re back. Where were you?” Before Dawn could reply, Tess noticed the look on her mother’s face. “What’s wrong?” she said.

  “Honey, that was Jake on the phone.”

  “What’s the matter? What happened?”

  Dawn’s expression was pained. “He’s over at the emergency room…”

  Tess jumped from the bed, the transcript falling to the floor. Her heart was thudding. “Erny?”

  Before Dawn could answer, Tess knew by the expression on her face. “Oh my God,” she said.

  “Come on,” said her mother. “I’ll drive.”

  When they arrived at the emergency room, Jake was pacing the waiting area, talking on a cell phone. He snapped it shut when he saw them come in and strode toward them.

  “Where is he?” Tess demanded.

  “I’ll show you,” said Jake. “Follow me.”

  Tess raced after her brother down the hospital corridor and through a set of double doors. They met a doctor who was emerging from a curtained cubicle. “He’s in there,” said Jake. “This is his doctor.”

  “I’m Erny’s mother,” Tess said.

  The bald-headed physician smiled and patted her hand reassuringly. “Take it easy,” he said. “He’s gonna be all right. He was knocked out by the fall. He’s conscious now, although he’s going to have a little headache. He’s bruised up but otherwise he seems to be okay. We’re still waiting for some of the X-rays.”

  “Oh thank God. Is he awake? Can I see him?” Tess asked.

  “Sure, go on in,” said the doctor.

  Tess pushed back the curtain and walked into the cubicle. Erny was lying on the bed under a white sheet. His face, normally a nutty brown, looked unnaturally pale.

  She leaned over the bed and carefully enfolded him in her arms. “Honey, what happened? Are you okay?” she asked.
/>   “Ouch, that hurts, Ma,” he complained.

  Tess released him gently. “I’m sorry. Are you in a lot of pain?”

  Erny shrugged. “Not too much,” he said.

  “The doctor said you’re kind of bruised up but you’re going to be fine. How did this happen, Erny?” Tess asked.

  “Well, I wanted to try and go fishing. So I found this long stick and some string and I made a fishing pole. I even found a lure for it. And then I climbed up this tree and shinnied out on the branch. I figured that would be a good place to fish from.” Erny shrugged as if the result was self-explanatory.

  “Did it break off? The branch?”

  Erny shook his head. “The wind started blowing all of a sudden and the branch was creaking and…I don’t know. I tried to climb back down from it and I fell.”

  “It must have been scary,” said Tess.

  “It didn’t scare me,” Erny said.

  “Well, it scared me,” said Tess. “When I heard you were knocked out it scared me half to death.”

  Erny looked at her with wide eyes. “I didn’t get hurt that bad,” he said.

  Tess brushed a curly lock of black hair off his skinned forehead. “Thank God.”

  “Did Uncle Jake get my fishing pole? I made it myself.”

  “I think he was a little bit too busy getting you to the emergency room.”

  “Maybe he got it,” said Erny.

  “Maybe,” said Tess.

  “Can I go home now?” he asked.

  “Soon,” said Tess. “They need to get a few more X-rays and then we’ll take you home. You just rest. Can I get you anything?”