by Nella Tyler
“What’s wrong, Mrs. Crutcher?” she asked, although she had a strong suspicion it had something to do with Scott.
“That man… He broke into your apartment and messed it all up. I called the police. They are here now and want to talk to you. Please come home.”
“I’m on my way,” Gilda promised and disconnected.
Chapter 23
“No! You’re not going alone!” Cole barked and Gilda could tell he meant business. “We have him where we want him now. Breaking and entering is a chargeable offense, and we can lock him up.”
“It won’t stop him,” Gilda shook her head. “Scott’s been in jail so many times, they practically named a cell for him. As soon as he gets out, he’ll come after me — and this time, he won’t let go.”
“I said no!” There was no budging Cole.
“I don’t have anyone to watch Carson, and I’m not taking him over there; it’s not good for him and you never know. Scott might be hanging around, leaving and using the apartment as bait to get me back there.”
“Which is exactly why you’re not going alone. Sit there and don’t move!”
Cole picked up his phone and tapped out a number. He spoke in a low voice, cupping his hand over the phone to ask the address, which Gilda supplied. He ended the call.
“I just confirmed that the police are on scene. Let them handle this, Gilda.”
“Cole. I have to go! They won’t know what he’s done — whether he took things, broke things… I’m the only one who can make the report. You know that!
Cole stared at her and made another call as he walked into the bathroom. He emerged, completely showered and dressed a short time later. Gilda had already dressed and was waiting for him.
“Okay. I’ve ordered a nanny. She is someone who comes highly recommended by the concierge at one of my father’s hotels.”
“One of your father’s hotels?” Gilda’s jaw dropped open.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to that later. In the meantime, she’s on her way here and the doorman will let me know when she has arrived. She will stay with Carson while you and I are going to your apartment. I’ve already spoken with the officers on the scene, and they’re waiting for us.”
There was a buzz at the panel next to the front door, and Cole answered it, telling the doorman to send the nanny up.
“I’m Cindy,” she introduced herself as she entered. She had a satchel and pulled Carson to sit on the sofa as she opened it and let him pick out a coloring book and a box of crayons. “We’ll be fine. Take your time. I’ll fix the little one dinner if you’re gone too late.”
“See?” Cole asked Gilda, pushing her to approve.
She nodded and headed toward the elevator, with Cole immediately behind. “Don’t let anyone in,” he barked over his shoulder.
They took Cole’s car to the apartment building, although they had to park some distance away. The wind whipped between the buildings, and Cole kept Gilda close. His senses were on full alert, and he wore his weapon on his belt. He possessed a concealed carry permit and the gun was his own. He had yet to receive a departmental issue.
Inside the apartment building, they found Mrs. Crutcher tearfully wiping her plump cheeks as she sat on the sofa in the parlor. The two officers were patiently waiting, and it was apparent from the scene when Cole and Gilda arrived that they were relieved to see them. Mrs. Crutcher had been sobbing, carrying on about the damage and how Mr. Crutcher had made so much of the woodwork with his own hand tools. Gilda gave the woman a quick hug and went up the stairs to survey the damage.
From what she could tell, Scott had probably broken in initially because he thought she was ignoring his knocks at the door. There were two large holes punched through the door as though he had used his fists in anger. The chain lock was hanging at an angle in the broken door frame, so he must have forced his way in with his shoulder or feet.
The apartment was in total chaos; nothing was as it should have been. Cushions were on the floor, many of them sliced open, bleeding foam or polyester. All her dishes were broken shards on the floor, and even the wood shelving was ripped out.
Her bedroom was the true disaster, the mattress barely recognizable as anything more than a mass of springs and padding. The clothes she’d left behind were shredded and everything in the room had been scrutinized.
Gilda held her hand over her mouth, her stomach threatening to erupt. Cole stood behind her, a calm hand on each of her shoulders. She spun around and buried her face in his chest and began to cry.
“Why? Why? What have I done to him?”
Cole’s face was grim, although he tried to keep his voice calm. “Sweetheart, these things always look bad. The guys here can tell you, they’ve seen it before. He evidently was coming to have a confrontation with you, and when you weren’t here, he just went crazy. Probably was looking for some kind of proof that he could accuse you of being an unfit mother.
“He doesn’t even want the boy — if he did, he wouldn’t have signed the papers giving him up. He just wants to get back at you.”
His logic did little to assuage Gilda’s horror. “What if we’d been here?” she gasped as she continued to take in the extent of Scott’s rampage. “He might have killed us!”
The officers were standing in the doorway. They had already been in the rooms and were waiting for Gilda to file a report so they could finish their paperwork and leave. “Ma’am, if it’s any comfort, it doesn’t look like anything more than a drunken rage. We see it all the time. It doesn’t mean he was intent on harming you,” one of them offered in consolation.
“Unless things didn’t go his way and she got caught in the middle,” Cole muttered darkly.
The officers looked at one another and realized Cole had a personal stake in this. They hadn’t considered until that moment just why Cole had accompanied Gilda. They knew he was a recruit; he had identified himself when he called from home.
“Uhhh, ma’am…we’d like to have you go over this report with us, please?” requested one of the officers.
Gilda nodded and headed back downstairs with them. She sat next to Mrs. Crutcher, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, there, we’ll get it all fixed. I promise.”
“I don’t want that man in here ever again!” shouted Mrs. Crutcher in the most adamant voice she could muster.
“Okay, ma’am, we can have you go down to the station and take out a personal protection order. Believe me, after we’ve run these prints, we’ll pick him up, wherever he is.” The officer tried to make her feel safer, but it was hard when half her home was in shambles.
Gilda gave the officers the information they needed and shook her head when they asked about insurance. “Not much we can do for you, I’m afraid. You could sue him in civil court for damages if you want to.”
Gilda shook her head again. “Scott doesn’t have a pot to piss in,” she told them, and they nodded. It was a story they’d heard all too often.
The officers left and Cole remained standing by the doorway of the parlor, thinking. Gilda was still trying to comfort the sobbing landlady when he finally spoke up. “Mrs. Crutcher?”
“Yes?” she answered between sobs.
“I’d like you to go upstairs and pack a suitcase. I’m taking you on a little vacation.”
“What?” she asked, not understanding.
Gilda looked up at Cole, puzzled.
“I happen to have an extra apartment at my place that I have the use of. Why don’t you lock things up here, come with us, and you can look after Carson and help Gilda? I’d feel better if she weren’t alone, anyway. I have to return to work, and I’d feel much better about it if you were there to look after her.”
Gilda’s mouth dropped open.
Mrs. Crutcher shook her head. “Oh, no… I have no money for something like that,” she explained, but Cole waved his hand at her.
“Won’t cost you a penny, and there’s even a salary in it for you. What do you say? Would you help me out?”
Mrs. Crutcher stopped her crying and looked at Gilda. “Is this something you would like?”
Gilda was caught in Cole’s trap, although she admitted to herself it made good sense. She nodded and said, “Of course, it is.”
Mrs. Crutcher nodded, blew her nose loudly, and went upstairs to pack her things. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she assured Cole as she ambled upstairs.
Gilda sighed and determinedly stood up with the intent of going into her apartment to see if anything was redeemable.
“Where are you going?” he asked her.
“There’s got to be something he didn’t destroy,” she said hopefully. “Maybe something of Carson’s. This would just break his heart if he saw it.”
“He needs to understand how dangerous his father can be, Gilda. If Scott should somehow catch up to him someday, Carson needs to understand what Scott is capable of.”
“I’ll take some pictures with my phone, and maybe someday I’ll sit down with him. For now, though, I’m going to protect him.” She walked past Cole on her way upstairs, but stopped at the foot and put her hand on the newel post. “It’s an awfully nice thing you’re doing, Cole. I’m not sure I can ever repay you.”
“You don’t owe me a thing and neither does Mrs. Crutcher. Let her come and stay close to us for a while. When they grab Scott and toss his ass in jail, we’ll come back and figure out how to put this place to rights. In the meantime, she’s really doing me a favor in keeping you and Carson safe.”
Gilda sighed. “Why does it seem like my life is getting more and more complicated all the time? I keep trying to fix things, and they keep slipping beyond my fingers.”
“You can’t control people or life, sweetheart. It pretty much has a life of its own. All you can do is choose how you will react to it.”
Chapter 24
Having locked up the apartment, the three of them, along with all Mrs. Crutcher’s luggage and boxes, were smashed into Cole’s car as they headed to his place. Mrs. Crutcher had insisted her pressure cooker and bundt pan were necessary, even though Cole assured her the kitchen was already fully stocked. The older lady was adamant, however.
After checking in on Carson and letting the nanny leave, Cole took them down one floor and showed them the apartment where Mrs. Crutcher would be living.
“Oh, it’s way too big for just me,” she objected. “Please, Gilda, could de Carson stay with me here? That way, you can have some privacy and go to work without waking him up?”
Cole looked to Gilda for approval. He’d had in mind exactly the same thing — but for more selfish reasons, he had to admit.
Gilda thought about it a moment and finally nodded. Stability was key to keeping Carson safe and happy, and he knew Mrs. Crutcher like a grandmother. He could come upstairs, or she could go downstairs, to visit at any time. It would be more like a house with two floors. Cole assured them he would have keys made for Mrs. Crutcher, and everyone could come and go as they pleased.
The apartment Mrs. Crutcher and Carson would be occupying was as large, but not nearly as elegant as Cole’s. It was more neutral in decoration: a sparkling-white kitchen and subtle beiges dominated the color scheme. Mrs. Crutcher clapped her hands together in delight. She had never seen such a beautiful apartment and had never expected that a calamity such as what Scott had created in her home could result in such beautiful living conditions.
This apartment had three full bedrooms, one of which was assigned to Carson, a second to Mrs. Crutcher, and the third was left open in the event of a guest.
Cole arranged for Carson’s belongings to be moved downstairs and for Mrs. Crutcher’s personal effects to be put away. The apartment was completely furnished and in move-in condition. Mrs. Crutcher set her pressure cooker on the back of the stove, her symbol of taking over.
“Mrs. Crutcher,” Cole said to her, “if you will make a list of things that you need from the store, I will see to it that they are delivered to you shortly. Don’t worry, order anything you want. And, you, young man,” he said, referring to Carson, “tell Mrs. Crutcher what you would like, as well.”
Mrs. Crutcher frowned. “I can’t let you do all that for me,” she told him. “I need to earn my keep. Looking after Carson is no work for me; but maybe you would let me clean these apartments and cook for you all?”
“Sounds like a good deal to me,” Cole agreed enthusiastically. “How about you, Gilda? Will that work for you?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’ve always liked Mrs. Crutcher’s cooking far better than my own. My mama never taught me how to cook. I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
Mrs. Crutcher nodded in satisfaction, and she dug into her purse for a piece of paper and a pen and began making a grocery list, which she later handed to Cole.
Carson had already discovered the remote in the large flat-screen in the living room and had settled in. Cole took Gilda by the hand, and they went upstairs to his apartment. He was on the phone for a short time, placing the orders for the things he wanted. He found Gilda seated in the living room, a glass of wine in her hand and another waiting for him on the coffee table. Her back was to him as she looked out over the skyline.
“Cole, I cannot tell you what this means to me. Yesterday, when Scott showed up, I thought my life was over. Not only mine, but Carson’s, as well. You’ve bailed me out once again. How am I ever going to repay you?”
“By not asking me how you can repay me.”
“But, I can’t live here with you forever and let you pay for everything.”
Cole put down the glass of wine after taking a sip and went to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I have no intention of letting you go anytime soon. You and Carson, and yes, even Mrs. Crutcher, are beginning to feel like family to me. I’ve never had that feeling before, Gilda. Sit down here for a minute; I’d like to talk to you.”
She looked up at him and saw that his face was serious. She nodded and moved to the sofa, setting down her glass and folding her legs beneath her so that she might be comfortable as Cole began his story.
“I’ve given you some idea that my father was not a good man. I think I’ve also shared with you that his marriage to my mother was almost non-existent. What I haven’t shared with you is how I managed to get through it all.
“My father is a sadistic son-of-a-bitch. Even though he grew up with money, he seems to think that he grew up the hard way, which is absolute bullshit. He had everything he needed or wanted. He was constantly in trouble simply because he was an asshole.”
Gilda noticed Cole’s frequent use of rough language when discussing his father, but said nothing.
“He treated my mother like crap, he alienated anyone who tried to be a friend to him, and he beat me regularly just so that I would understand the concept of pain. In a word, he was a bully. He sent me to camp every summer. It wasn’t the sort of fun camp that you might think of; it was a military camp — one of the toughest in the world.
“I spent my summers suffering. I learned to march twelve hours a day and then scrub latrines or whitewash the same wall over and over with only two hours left over for sleep. It was the sort of camp they sent boys who were trouble. Even though I didn’t fit into that category, my father made sure that the commandant believed I did. In short, I spent my summers being punished for things I had never done.”
“Oh, Cole, I’m so sorry. I thought I had it bad, but my childhood was nothing like that.”
“The purpose is not to compare childhoods. I just want you to understand that I didn’t have it easy growing up and that I know how people like Scott can be. I’m guessing that you carry a certain amount of guilt for letting him into your life and even letting him be Carson’s father.”
She nodded. “I guess you do understand,” she said softly.
Cole’s green eyes were like emerald daggers. “Now, you understand why I want to be a cop. I think I understand men like my father and
like Scott and I don’t want them to win the game.”
“But why New York City, Cole?” she asked him.
“Because it’s the biggest cesspool in the country. It needs cleaning.”
The buzzer next to the elevator sounded and Cole walked over to hear the doorman tell him that there were deliveries downstairs.
“Check their identification and then the packages. Ask for the three-digit code I gave them over the phone. You know the number. If it all checks out, have them bring everything up to the tenth floor to Mrs. Crutcher’s apartment. See to it that it’s all put away.”
Gilda could hear the doorman’s response and Cole stood by as the identification and packages were checked. The voice came again and Cole nodded. “Take it to the tenth floor,” he told him.
“Do you want to go downstairs with me?” he asked Gilda.
She nodded, leapt up, and joined him in the elevator. Moments later, the doors opened onto the tenth floor. The door shut immediately again as the elevator was summoned down to the lobby for the delivery men.
Gilda picked up Carson and sat with him on the sofa, waiting. Mrs. Crutcher was beaming, as happy as a young bride settling into her new home. The elevator delivered the purchases and the couriers sent to bring them.
The foodstuffs were first, and Mrs. Crutcher directed one of the men in putting everything away. “No, not on the top shelf. I can’t reach it that high,” she ordered him. It was apparent to everyone who watched that she rather enjoyed giving orders. Gilda smiled at this. Cole had done a fine thing, and now Mrs. Crutcher would be there for her, as well.
Then came the surprises. The second deliveryman descended back to the lobby and returned with gift-wrapped boxes in brightly-colored foil. Cole directed him to place them on the floor in the living room and when both delivery men left, he called Mrs. Crutcher in to join them.
“Carson, I have a few things here I’d like you to look over for me, please. You see, I happen to have this store ,and they carry things, well, let’s call them toys, and I’m not sure whether they are appropriate for young men your age. I was hoping you might try them out for me and let me know?”