Gabe had lifted Daniel down from his shoulders and the child looked at his mother with wide, startled eyes. “Sharon, that is enough!” Gabriel’s voice lashed at his daughter. “I won’t tolerate this from you, especially here in public. My God! What would your mother think?”
“Yes, what would she think, Daddy?” Sharon was backing away from them, tears beginning to pour down her face. “What would she think of you sleeping with another woman? Planning to marry another woman, not to mention Carmen Norris! Carmen Norris! It’s sickening! It’s blasphemous!”
“Sharon, stop it!” Kent nearly begged. “You’re acting like a maniac!”
“I hate you!” Sharon shouted at her father and Kent. “I hate both of you! And as for you, Carmen—”
Before any of them realized what was happening, Sharon turned and began running at top speed, pushing her way through the little crowd of people whose curiosity outweighed their good manners. The four adults stood stunned for a moment. Then Kent tried to pursue his wife, struggling to make his way through the gaggle of onlookers without knocking down anyone, tripping once and almost falling.
Gabe, slower to react, followed him by about fifteen seconds, leaving Daniel standing by himself. The little boy burst into frightened sobs and Teresa rushed to him, picking him up and holding him tightly. “It’s okay, Daniel,” she said. “Your mommy is just upset. Everything will be fine.”
But Daniel was not to be comforted and neither was Carmen, who stood still as a statue looking stunned. All of her careful planning, Teresa thought in a flash. She loves Gabe so much and he pushed past her without a word, his entire being focused on his daughter. “Carmen,” Teresa said, carrying the weeping Daniel toward Carmen and touching her arm. Carmen jumped and looked at Teri as if she didn’t know her. “Carmen, we weren’t expecting Sharon to take this news well.…”
“Take it well?” For a few moments, Carmen’s shocked gaze rested on Teresa’s face. Then the woman abruptly burst into loud laughter. “Well, that’s an understatement. She sure as hell didn’t take it well. Did you hear those lies she was spewing? She doesn’t care who she hurts. She’s horrible!”
“Oh, Carmen, please.” Teresa felt helpless, her nephew sobbing onto her shoulder, her friend looking as if her world had just caved in on her. “Just give her some time, Carmen. She’ll come around.”
Carmen laughed for a few more moments, then stopped as suddenly as she’d begun. Tears welled in her eyes. “Time? Time won’t change her mind, Teri. You know it won’t change her mind. She’s always hated me.”
“I don’t know that she hates you, Carmen, but Gabriel loves you. He’s going to marry you even if Sharon doesn’t stop acting crazy. And she is acting crazy tonight. My God, she even ran off and deserted Daniel!”
“My mommy’s crazy and she doesn’t want me anymore!” At this, the little boy wailed even louder and Teresa wanted to swallow the words. She bounced him as if he were a baby, looked at Carmen, who was dissolving into a broken, weeping mess, and wished herself a thousand miles away from this almost farcically nightmarish scene. But wishing wasn’t going to help anything, Teri told herself sternly. “Come on, Carmen. Let’s get out of here. Maybe the guys have caught up with her.”
Carmen was reluctant to go, but Teresa finally got the woman moving, although she had an odd, shuffling walk and slumped shoulders. Carmen—who always walked smartly and had excellent posture. At last, they found the men standing beside an empty parking space two blocks away. “She took our car,” Kent said in amazement. “We saw her just tearing off like there’s no speed limit. She was headed north.”
“Toward home,” Teresa said. “I’m sure she just went home.”
“All right, here’s what we’re going to do,” Gabe said. “Teri, I’d appreciate it if you’d drive Kent and me to his house. If Sharon isn’t there, he can take his car and I’ll take mine and we’ll both look for her. After you drop us off, take Daniel to your house.”
“I’ll take Daniel and Carmen,” Teri said with a significant look at Gabe. He hadn’t even glanced at his alarmingly pale fiancée.
“Thank you, Teri, but I need to be alone,” Carmen said in an odd, distant voice. “I want to go home.” She gave Teresa a weak smile and took Gabe’s hand, holding it up to her lips. “Please call me in a little while, Gabe.”
“I will,” he said absently.
“I mean it. Please call.”
“Carmen, I said I will.” He was curt and distracted, his mind obviously on one person—his daughter.
Carmen glanced at him, her eyes devoid of all joy, all hope. She dropped his hand and walked away from them, her shoulders sagging.
“Gabe, I think you could have been a little kinder to Carmen,” Teresa couldn’t stop herself from saying. “She’s very shaken.”
Gabe looked at Teresa in puzzlement, then in dismissal. “What? Oh, I’m sure Carmen understands.”
Yes, I’m sure she does, Teri thought, suddenly almost as angry with Gabe as she was with Sharon. Meanwhile, Kent stood by looking like a little boy waiting to be told what to do next. “Kent, may Daniel spend the whole night with me?” Teresa asked sharply.
Kent seemed to snap back to semi-life. “Danny, do you want to go home with Aunt Teri?” he asked. The child sniffed mightily and nodded yes. “Okay.” Daniel sniffed again, looking a tad less distraught as Kent went on, “Teri, would you mind having company tomorrow as well as tonight?”
“I’d love it!” Teresa said with more enthusiasm than she felt. She loved her nephew dearly, but she worried about how to handle him tomorrow if Sharon and Kent couldn’t resolve things tonight. Oh well, she thought, she’d try to remember how she used to entertain Celeste when Wendy would vanish on one of her all-day shopping trips.
Teresa, Kent, Gabe, and Daniel reached Kent’s house to find it deserted. Kent resolutely climbed into his SUV and Gabe into his dated sedan, and both set off in search of Sharon.
Sharon, Teresa thought with dread. Sharon who had headed wildly into the night, just as Marielle had eight years before.
3
Emma barely spoke in the car on the way back to her apartment. Mac kept looking at her anxiously. “Mom, what’s wrong? Do you feel sick?”
“No, Jedediah,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m just tired. I’ve been doing too much lately, not sleeping well, and tonight was a strain—all that rushing around trying to keep up with Teresa. Honestly, Son, you should have just gone to the fireworks with her.”
“I wanted to go with you.” Mac’s voice was sincere. “I just thought we could tag along with Teri and the group.”
“Honey, that group didn’t want us with them. No one except Teresa, that is. And maybe Carmen, although she was as jumpy as a scared rabbit. I’ve never seen her that way. She’s always been so in control of herself, so calm, so confident. Just the opposite of poor Marielle.”
Mac sighed. “I’ll tell you a secret, Mom. Carmen and Gabriel O’Brien are engaged.”
Emma looked at him with shocked green eyes. “Carmen and Mr. O’Brien? Good heavens, there’s a match I would never have imagined!”
“I know. I was surprised, too. And so was Teri. Carmen didn’t tell her until yesterday. Carmen and Gabe knew Sharon wouldn’t be happy about it, to say the least, so they planned to tell the families at a little get-together at Teri’s tonight. That’s why Carmen and Gabe seemed nervous. And I think Sharon sensed that something was up. Anyway, we were invited to their ‘coming out’ party, too. I think Carmen believed the more people present, the better Sharon would behave, although I have my doubts. But that’s why I was trying to keep up with Teri. She’s almost as jumpy about this to-do tonight as Carmen is, and I told her we’d be there for moral support.”
“You told her you’d be there. You’re the one she’d look to for moral support. Besides, I just can’t go.”
“Why not?”
Emma looked at her lap. “I… I just don’t feel up to it. I usually go to bed early. And Carme
n…”
“What about Carmen?”
“Oh, I suppose I’m being terribly selfish, but I don’t think I can bear seeing her preparing for a happy new life when poor Marielle could be dead.”
“Mom, we don’t know that Marielle is dead. But if you’re not feeling well, I’ll just skip tonight. They’ll never miss me.”
“You must go, Jedediah—Teresa is counting on you. All you have to do is drop me off at my apartment. I’ll just go straight to bed and you go on to Teresa’s.”
Mac shook his head. “I don’t want to just leave you, Mom. You don’t look right.”
“I do look right, just tired.”
“I should stay with you for a while, at least.”
“Jedediah, if you do that, I won’t be able to go to sleep, and sleep is what I need.” Emma reached over and patted him on the thigh. “If I get a good night’s rest, I will be right as rain tomorrow,” she said reassuringly. “I promise.”
Mac had reluctantly agreed and walked her to her door, where she had given him a peck on the cheek like a shy young girl on her first date. Emma then refused to let him come into the apartment as she disappeared inside. When he saw a light come on in her living room, he went back to his car and slowly drove out of her parking lot.
Mac was halfway to Teresa’s when he’d been overcome with a feeling that his mother was not all right, in spite of all of her protests. She had not looked well—not at all. And she hadn’t even sounded like herself. Her voice had been thin and a bit labored, as if she was having trouble breathing.
I shouldn’t have mentioned the shindig at Teri’s tonight, he thought, furious with himself. Mom never wants to be a burden and I made her feel like she was keeping me away from my one true love. That is the last thing in the world she’d want to do, no matter how bad she felt. I should never have left her, no matter how insistent she was.
When he pulled back into the apartment complex parking lot, Mac immediately noticed that his mother’s car was gone. He rushed to her door. It was locked. He beat on it anyway until the resident of the next unit opened his own door.
“Hey, what’s the noise all about?” the elderly man asked crankily.
“My mother is Emma MacKenzie. I dropped her off here about fifteen minutes ago. I walked her to her apartment and she went inside, but she wasn’t feeling well. I came back to check on her, but she isn’t opening the door. She might be unconscious.”
“Unconscious my foot!” the man snapped. “Emma took off about ten minutes ago. I had my curtains open and I saw her go flyin’ past like she was sixteen. I peeked out the door and saw her get in the car.” He grinned. “If you ask me, kid, your mama had a hot date she didn’t want you knowin’ anything about. Go on home and mind your own business. Just because some of us are over sixty doesn’t mean we’re dead!”
Mac stood, his mouth half-open in surprise, wondering where on earth his mother could have left for in such a hurry.
4
As soon as they reached home, the Warners launched into fevered activity. Fay had lunged for the phone to call the police, but when Celeste became hysterical, Jason held his thrashing daughter against his body and told his mother to put down the phone receiver. “Mom, I don’t think Celeste can stand for us to sit around waiting for the police to come and ask dozens of questions. She can’t answer anyway. We should just get some stuff together and get out of here as fast as possible. We’ll call the police tomorrow”—he looked at Celeste—“when we’re far, far away.”
Celeste nodded emphatically and when Fay saw the relief in the girl’s expression, she agreed. “All right. Sweetie, Grandma’s going to get some clothes together for you first. Then I’ll pack a few things for myself. We’ll be ready to go in a jiffy.” She’d suddenly looked anguished. “Jason, where will we go?”
“Maybe Charleston. Maybe Columbus. Let me think about it for a few minutes. In the meantime, I’ll get some of my own stuff together.” He looked at Celeste. “Will you be all right sitting here on the couch? Or would you rather go upstairs with your grandmother?”
Celeste dug herself into a corner of the couch and grabbed a pillow, clutching it against herself as she’d once clutched her teddy bear Yogi for protection. She didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want to take her gaze off the front and back doors, which she could see from the couch. She wished she could tell her father that he needed to watch the doors, but her throat was so tight she knew the words would not emerge. And he and Grandma were hurrying. Everything would be all right. Everything would be just fine, Celeste told herself as Fay raced up the stairs, muttering to herself. Daddy wasn’t like Hugh. Daddy would take care of them.
Celeste watched the clock hanging above the television set. Ten minutes had gone by when she suddenly felt electrified. Teri! She had to warn Teri!
The girl turned to the phone on the table beside the couch. She picked up the receiver and dialed Teresa’s number, which she’d memorized two days ago.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Then a breathless Teresa answered. Celeste said scratchily, “Teri.”
“Who is this?” Celeste decided Teri must have taken a moment to look at the Caller ID. “Celeste? Is that you?” Celeste tried to speak and couldn’t. “Celeste, what’s wrong?”
One more try. Celeste managed, “Kill,” or at least she thought it sounded like “kill.” She could say nothing else.
“Kill? Is that what you said? Celeste?” Teri sounded almost frantic. “Celeste?”
Celeste hung up. A few moments later, the phone rang. Celeste saw that the call came from Teri. She picked up the phone and once again, she was mute. But Teri had to know something was wrong, Celeste thought. The call, the fact that Celeste couldn’t speak, the mangled word “kill”…
Fay Warner rushed down the stairs carrying a tote bag and a suitcase and almost screamed, “Put down that phone!” Startled, Celeste slammed down the receiver. Fay closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know why I said that. Who were you calling? Oh, you can’t answer.”
Fay opened her terrified eyes. Strands of hair trailed down from her French twist, and her face had lost every ounce of color. Celeste dug herself deeper into the couch corner, thinking her grandmother looked like some wild creature in a horror movie. “I know I forgot some things, honey, but we can always pick up whatever we need.” Fay dropped the bags and shouted, “Jason! Jason, are you ready?”
Celeste’s father emerged from his bedroom carrying a brown duffel bag with a piece of blue cotton sticking out of the side. A shirt, Celeste thought. “All ready,” he said breathlessly. “Thank God I got gas and went to the automatic teller at the bank today.”
Fay flew at him, nearly hitting him with the tote bag and suitcase. “Money! Do you have enough? You probably don’t. Did you have your credit card?”
“I have two credit cards. We’ll be fine for a few days. I’m going to put our stuff in the car,” Jason said, heading for the kitchen door leading to their rear driveway facing an alley. “Get Celeste ready. She might need a jacket—I don’t know.” He opened the door and stepped out into the darkness. “And don’t forget your blood pressure medicine, Mom.”
“Oh! I did forget it!” Fay skittered to the kitchen cabinet beside the sink where she kept her medicine just as the phone began to ring again. “Jason Warner, you just saved my life. Where is that bottle of pills—”
Fay and Celeste both went rigid as they heard an exclamation, a shriek of pain cut short and followed by a sickening thud. Fay’s wild eyes met Celeste’s, then flew to the opened kitchen door. “Jason?” she wavered. “Ja—”
And it was there, dressed in a long, hooded black raincoat. It halted for a moment in the doorway, blinking against the bright kitchen light, focusing on Celeste. It surged forward, but Fay blocked its path, screaming shrilly, “No! Get out! Celeste, run! No!”
Celeste sat frozen on the couch for what seemed an interminable time, long enough to see the knife jab into her grandmot
her’s neck. Fay grabbed at the wound, trying to stanch the burst of blood, still letting out strangled little shrieks, as the knife descended again. And again. And—
With a speed borne of pure white terror, Celeste leaped off the couch, streaked toward the front door, flipped the lock, and flung the door wide. She heard it let out an inhuman sound of fury that mingled with her grandmother’s weakening bleats of shock and pain. Celeste ran into the night, veering away from the glow of the old-fashioned lamppost standing by the front walk, desperately seeking the safety of darkness. She dodged into the tall shrubbery surrounding the neighbors’ house and hit the cool, shrouded ground as it pounded out of her own house, breathing so hard she could hear it this far away. At least, Celeste thought the breathing was not her own.
She lay on her abdomen and slithered between the shrubbery and the house, keeping her head down so she wouldn’t rustle the shrubbery leaves, holding her breath until her lungs felt as if they would explode. She crawled to the front of the house, thinking that the killer would probably go toward the back, where the shrubbery was thicker.
Then, marshaling all of her courage, Celeste launched herself across the dark front lawn of the house next door, crossed the lightly traveled residential street, and skittered behind the shrubbery adorning the house directly opposite her grandmother’s.
Peeking through thick, leafy spots in the bushes, Celeste saw someone come out of the front of her house—someone in a long, hooded coat—and glance up and down the street. When the porch lights next door flashed on and a man stepped out, the figure disappeared back into the house. Celeste knew, though, that as soon as the man retreated into his home, the figure would appear at the front door again, scanning the street for her, perhaps deducing that the most natural place for Celeste to go would be to the safety of the thick foliage across the street.
Celeste’s mind worked frantically. Where should she go? To a neighbor’s house? She couldn’t speak. They would think she was pulling a prank and not let her inside, but the noise caused by her attempt to find safety would certainly draw the killer. The police? Police headquarters was clear downtown, Celeste thought, heart sinking.
If You Ever Tell Page 29