Guardian Angel

by Andrew Neiderman

  She thought a moment, nodded and started for the front door of the school. He smiled.

  She knows she needs me, he thought. He waited by his truck and when she came out, hurried over to her again.

  “There’s a Starbucks on the corner,” she said. He nodded and followed her out of the parking lot. Ten minutes later, after they both had parked, he joined her at the outside patio.

  “What would you like?”

  “A latte. With nonfat milk,” she called to him. He smiled and went in to get their coffees.

  As he turned to bring them out, he saw how deep in thought she was. He was confident that deep thought would evolve into anger, and he knew that the more antagonistic this divorce became, the more she would depend on him. At least, that was what he hoped. She had yet to mention another man or even another woman she would consider a trusted confidant. As far as he could see, so far it was clear sailing if he handled her right.

  “I’m really sorry I had to tell you all that this morning, Megan,” he said as he gave her the latte and sat. “You’d think he would want to be civilized about it and also would give more consideration to Jennifer.”

  “Yes,” she said, sipping the coffee. She looked around. “Someone might be watching us right now, snapping pictures of us.”

  “What are you supposed to do, hide in a closet until the court action begins? You’re not doing anything illicit. You have a right to enjoy yourself and make new friends.”

  “Of course, but I know how Gordon Lester works. Even Scott has been amazed at some of the things his father has done to drive competitors away from a property investment he wanted. I’ll call my lawyer as soon as I get home. She’ll love hearing this.”

  He nodded and she smiled at him.

  “Thanks for telling me, for taking the time, Steve.”

  “Hey, no problem. As I told you before, I saw something in your eyes that first night that convinced me you were a very nice person. Look at how beautiful your daughter is and how she behaves. A woman like you should have more children. How come you don’t, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “No, I don’t mind now. It was a reluctant mutual agreement. When I saw how Scott was behaving with his firstborn, I decided to wait to see if he would change. He didn’t and he didn’t seem to want another child anyway. I know his father wanted him, and still wants him, to have a son, but I don’t want to have another child just because his father wants it. I want Scott to want it.”

  “Wanted,” he corrected.

  “Yes, wanted.”

  “Well, don’t give up on the idea for yourself,” he said, and she raised her eyebrows. “In the future, when things settle down. You’ll go on with your life, Megan. Divorce isn’t death. It’s death of something not meant to live, but it’s not death for you.”

  “Thanks for saying that,” she told him. “What’s the project you’re on today?”

  “Just finishing up an oversized pool for some rich dude who just bounced another wife, as I understand it.”

  “Oversized?”

  “For the property. It’s part of the gaudy way the guy lives. No sense of proportion in anything he does, I bet. Why guys like that are lucky enough to have so much bugs me, but hey, I don’t have to live with him.”

  He sipped his coffee and studied her reaction to his words. She liked what he was saying, so he felt he could add, “Just like you don’t have to live with Scott.”

  “Yes,” she said. She looked ather watch. “I guess I better get home and talk to my attorney.”

  “Okay. Like I said, I’ll follow you and call you, so give it five minutes after you get into the house.”

  “It’s really very nice of you to do all this for me, Steve.”

  “I hope to be able to express just how much pleasure it gives me,” he replied. “Maybe try another dinner?”

  “And give the private eye something to gloat over?”

  “I can lose him in a flash. It’ll be fun.”

  She laughed. “Maybe.”

  She headed for her car and he hurried to his truck. He didn’t expect there would be anyone watching her house this morning. He imagined they were thrown for quite a loop and did not have time to regroup, but he would tell her there was someone anyway. He wanted her to need him more and more.

  He remained far enough behind her to look inconspicuous and almost didn’t bother to look around as they approached her house, but there he was, sitting in his car almost parked in the exact spot the man he knew as Ed Marcus had parked. He still had his identification, license, gun-permit registration, health insurance card and credit cards.

  An ironic and funny idea occurred to him. He drove around once more and as he passed the car with the new private detective in it, he used Ed Marcus’s digital camera to click a picture. He’d print it out for Megan so she would have something concrete to show her attorney.

  After he went by, he pulled to the side and called her.

  “He’s out there. Look north about a hundred yards across the street. A blue Ford.”

  “Thank you, Steve.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I forgot I had my digital camera in the truck. I took his picture. He didn’t see me do it. Don’t worry, but I’ll print it out for you to hand to your attorney.”

  “Oh, that’s great.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m here for you. Just like some guardian angel, the guardian angel you accused me of being.”

  She laughed and then said she had an incoming call and it might be her attorney.

  After he hung up, he started for the work site. Normally, he rode in silence, but right now, he felt like turning on the radio to a station he tolerated, one that played oldies, and singing along with every song he heard.

  Anyone watching him would think he had just won the lottery.

  Scott checked the clock in his office and decided it was time to make the peace-pipe call. It took four rings, so he knew she was on another call.

  “Morning, Megan. How’s Jennifer?” he said quickly.

  “She’s in school, Scott. You should know by now what time I take her.”

  “Yes, I knew. I just meant…Listen, I’m calling to ask you to consider meeting me for a quiet, nonconfrontational, no-lawyer conversation.”

  “Really?” she said dryly. “Nonconfrontational? Did you get your father’s okay for such a conversation?”

  “Listen to me, Megan. No one’s coming out of this a clear winner. Everyone suffers.”

  “Yes, how do you like that? Up until now, only Jennifer and I were suffering.”

  “It’s no good to talk like this over the telephone. Why can’t we sit down over lunch and behave like two grown-ups?”

  “Because only one of us is,” she replied.

  He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath.

  “My father doesn’t know anything about this call or this idea. Can’t you calm down at least enough to listen? I’m trying to make a real effort to see things from your side of the street.”

  “Oh, I know you are,” she said, laughing.

  “You know I am?”

  “Yes, I said I know. One of your—or should I say, your father’s—spies is outside the house right now so you can see things on my side of the street. I wouldn’t try to deny it. I’ll have a picture of him to give to my attorney to give to yours.”

  He was quiet a moment. He thought these guys were professionals. How the hell did this Anderson fellow get spotted so quickly? What good would he be? Now, Scott thought, he’d really screwed up. His father had told him he would find another agency and here he’d gone on his own and rehired the Marcus agency. He’d blown it. Megan’s tone and his own bad decision came in on a tide of new rage. No matter what he tried, this thing had a life of its own and was determined to have its own way.

  “I wouldn’t have needed that if you weren’t screwing around out there, Megan,” he retorted. “How long have you been seeing someone else, huh? Who is he? Someone your bosom buddy Tricia introduced to
you? Or did you pick him up yourself?”

  “This civilized conversation is over, Scott. You might as well tell your father he can save some money and fire the private detective,” she said, and hung up.

  He held the receiver away from his ear. It felt as if smoke were coming out of both his ears. He was that hot. He slammed down the phone and then after a moment picked it up and called Bob Anderson’s cell.

  “Anderson,” he heard.

  “She made you,” he said.

  “What?”

  “My wife…She knows you’re out there, knows what you’re doing. I just spoke to her.”

  “That’s impossible. I’m not right across from the house, but I saw her drive in and go in. She didn’t even look this way, and besides, I haven’t taken a picture or anything. What would she base it on, a man sitting in a car? I could be waiting for someone. And I just got here twenty minutes ago. She’s been in the house less than…less than fifteen minutes, Mr. Lester. How can she come to that conclusion so quickly? There’s nothing about my car or about me to suggest…“

  “All I know is I just got off the phone speaking with her and she told me you were out there.”

  “Something doesn’t sound right.”

  “Look, just send us the bill for what you’ve done so far and drop it. Don’t charge us for what Ed was supposed to be doing,” he added.

  “But…“

  “Thanks for the effort,” Scott added, and hung up. At least he was decisive about it. His father would like that. He rose and went out to his father’s office to tell him what he had done and what had occurred all within the morning hours.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me to find someone new?” his father asked immediately.

  “Anderson made it sound frightening. He said he was convinced something somehow related happened to Ed Marcus. I thought we shouldn’t leave the house unobserved.”

  “Just a gimmick to get you to let him work up the bill. He was probably worried he lost his paycheck. Well, what’s done is done. I’ll speak to someone else and find us people who will disappear into the woodwork and not be discovered.”

  “Why don’t we forget about all that, Dad?”

  “She’s screwing around and probably was screwing around on you before, and you want to forget about it?”

  “It could back fire on us and—”

  “Go back to work, Scott. Let me handle this part of the mess, will you?”

  “I—”

  “You’re showing some weakness here at exactly the wrong time, Scott. Get hold of yourself. This is not a Sunday picnic. It’s nasty business. She’ll wipe the floor with you if you’re not firm. Now go. I have to speak to Orseck to see what he thinks the damage might be,if any.

  “I did some research or had some research done on this attorney of hers, this Emily Lloyd. She’s a ball-breaker and rarely loses, Scott. I’m sure she has her sights aimed high. I’m having Earl review what could possibly be tracked to you financially or where she could bite your ass good-and mine too, I might add. We have to consider whatever maneuvers are open to us. Your name is on a number of LLCs we’ve formed. This is complicated business, damn it.”

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  “Sorry doesn’t work right now. As usual, you’re not looking at the whole picture here, so you lose sight of what connects to what, what affects what.”

  There were many things Scott wanted to say in response. He wanted to talk about how his father kept him from doing more, kept him from understanding it all, but he didn’t. He just nodded and left. He could almost hear Megan complaining about it, chastising him for once again permitting his father to browbeat him. He used to drown out her words or simply turn himself off to them, but they were deposited in his memory bank and eager to echo again and again.

  He returned to his office and tried to concentrate on the project he was reviewing, but one thought continually interrupted.

  Who was this guy she was seeing?

  Was it someone he knew, someone he considered a friend, someone who had wormed his way into her life? He began to review the possibilities. Maybe she was having an affair with a married man who promised eventually to leave his wife. Some other marriage would be ruined.

  This thing did have a mind and will of its own, like some crawling rot that fed on everyone’s lusts and egos. The more you resisted, the stronger it grew. Despondent, he thought that maybe it had always been there. Maybe nothing he had done really gave birth to it because it was already born, dormant, lying in wait. Maybe he never really knew Megan or deliberately blinded himself to whatever was in her that would lead her to surrender her body and destiny to another man.

  It was so easy now to hate her, he thought, which made him realize how easy it could have been for her to hate him as well.

  Maybe the world was meant to be a garden only for men like his father after all.

  Only that sort of man would grow and prosper. Everyone else would struggle for a sip of the rain and a time in the sunlight but eventually would find himself bathed in the shadows of defeat. He would wither and die, never understanding why he was born in the first place.

  Before he reached the work site, Steve stopped at one of those places where he knew he could print out copies of the digital photograph he had taken. The picture he had snapped turned out to be pretty good. He had slowed down enough and caught the man, his car and enough of the surrounding street to identify the location. He made various sizes of it, blowing it up to an eight-by-ten, which revealed enough of the man’s face to enable an identification. She’ll love these, he thought, and put them all in a manila envelope.

  Paul Stanley was waiting for him when he pulled into the work site. He charged over almost before Steve got out of his truck.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. “You know how late you are, how this affects the job?”

  “I had trouble with my truck this morning,” he replied.

  “Why didn’t you call? I’d a sent someone for you.”

  “Then you’d have two guys off the job. I thought I could get it fixed fast enough not to make so much difference, but as usual, they didn’t have a part and…“

  Paul narrowed his eye and shook his head.

  “This is bullshit, man. You know what your not showing up means.”

  “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “No, of being stupid,” Paul replied.

  Steve glared at him a moment. Paul could see he was weighing his options and one of them was definitely coming at him. He took a nervous step back when he saw Steve tighten his fists. The other workers had heard the confrontation and had stopped what they were doing. All eyes were on the two of them.

  Suddenly Steve smiled and relaxed his fists. Some other thought had obviously taken over, but it wasn’t apologizing and groveling. Paul Stanley could sense that in the weird smile.

  “You’re right,” Steve said. “I am stupid to be wasting my time here when there are far more important things for me to be doing. Thanks for pointing it out, and go fuck yourself,” he said, and turned and got into his truck.

  “You’ll be sorry,” Paul shouted. “I’ll make sure you don’t work in this city.”

  Steve started his engine and then turned it off and sat there as if he were really reconsidering. All the others watched and waited. Did he realize Paul Stanley could hurt his earning power seriously? Would he beg for forgiveness?

  He got out of the truck. Stanley, not a small man, but nowhere near as hard as Steve, took a few steps back. Steve approached him slowly. Paul Stanley knew all his men were watching. He couldn’t just turn and run. He had to hold his ground. Steve stopped inches from him and smiled again as he leaned in to whisper.

  “Make one call to turn people against me, just one, and I’ll hurt you where you’ll feel it the most—family,” Steve said low enough for only Paul to hear.

  Paul didn’t respond. Steve returned to his truck and glared at him as he restarted it and backed out of the spot. He
turned and pulled away. Paul Stanley watched him go and then turned, took a breath of relief and walked back to the site.

  Screw him, he told himself. He ain’t worth my breath.

  It was the easiest way to retreat and rationalize his fear, but he would at least complain to Matt Lowenstein, who had given Wallace so high a recommendation. What he did with the complaint afterward was of no concern.

  Steve didn’t give any of it a second thought. He wanted to drive right over to Megan’s house but he knew he couldn’t. He had told her he was going to work late in the day. It was important to avoid contradictions now, to give her any reason whatsoever not to trust him. He couldn’t go home either, because his mother would be on his back. He hated hanging out in the bars with losers. So he drove over to Santa Monica, parked and went down to a bench where he could sit and look out at the sea and plan.

  He was confident now that he was going to inherit this family. He was happy to hear from Megan’s own lips that she would have wanted more children, but was insecure about having another with Scott Lester. She was certainly young enough to have another, even perhaps two more. He wouldn’t love Jennifer any less than he would his own children. Megan would understand that clearly and it would give her the comfort she needed. A woman like Megan would easily cherish him, he thought.

  It was a beautiful day at the beach. Santa Monica was a favorite destination for European tourists who wanted to sample California. He heard the foreign languages as people passed by and he saw the families walking together, the children excited about the sand and the water. Off to his left, the Ferris wheel on the pier turned. He could actually hear the children squealing with delight. The wind carried their voices to him. Everywhere he looked, he saw the happiness that was born out of a good family life. What family meant to him most of all was the end of loneliness and a reaffirmation of his value as a man. These were the things Julia had denied him.

  He dozed off for a while and when he woke he saw how low the sun had fallen. He looked at his watch and thought it would be fine to appear at her house now. An idea occurred to him and on the way he stopped at a good Chinese restaurant he knew. He ordered takeout and continued on to her home in Beverly Hills.