There Was a Crooked Man: A Psychological Thriller
Page 11
Christmas day arrived quietly, and Katie turned the carols up to chase away the sorrow. She smiled as she and Jack opened presents, but her heart was elsewhere. Needing to find her center, Katie drove to the only sanctuary she knew—Aunt Susan’s. It was a tradition, and one Jack allowed if Katie called him during the drive and checked in once she arrived.
Katie’s mood improved the closer she got to Atlanta.
Aunt Susan answered the door wearing a white cashmere jogging suit, matching jewelry, and at least four bracelets. When Aunt Susan opened her arms, Katie stepped gladly into the circle. “Merry Christmas, Katie-girl.”
Aunt Susan moved toward the couch, patting it in invitation. Katie fidgeted with her coat buttons. As the coat came off, the dam inside Katie broke, and she sobbed, “I miss Cassie so much already.”
Aunt Susan rocked Katie and comforted as only a loved one can. “Lord, girl, I’ve lost my share of friends.” Aunt Susan closed her eyes for a second. “I’m still losing them, to the point I dread answering the phone.” She kept her arm around Katie’s shoulder. “I can tell ya I’ve learned a few things along the way.”
Katie turned to look at her aunt. “I’ll take any advice you have.”
“Allow the grief, or it will grow into an awful black sickness inside. Try writing Cassie a letter and sharing the thoughts you have inside. I’ve had luck with that one over the years.”
Katie thought about the hundreds of things she wished she could still say to Cassie.
Aunt Susan let the silence spread for several minutes then tapped Katie’s knee. “Enough of this seriousness. What did Adam say to his wife right before Christmas?” Susan’s eyes twinkled as she delivered the punchline, “It's Christmas, Eve!”
Katie bumped shoulders with Aunt Susan. “You and your dumb jokes.”
“Life goes on, Honey. You either laugh or cry. You,” she pointed at Katie and raised her eyebrows, “need to laugh.” Aunt Susan stood abruptly. “Let’s make cookies!”
They destroyed the tiny kitchen when Aunt Susan snuck up behind Katie and smeared batter on her nose. “Take that, brat!” Susan wielded her spoon as a shield.
Katie retaliated by flinging flour in Susan’s face, ruining her impeccable makeup. Swordplay with spoons and spatulas ensued with utensils clanking, and items knocked off the counter. Katie grabbed a towel by both ends, quickly swirled it together, and let loose with a sharp thwack right on Susan’s butt. Aunt Susan dropped her spoon, and the look of shock on her face had Katie howling in delight. The cookies burned, and their mouths were tired from laughing.
After cleaning up, Katie stood looking out the window. Aunt Susan joined her, rubbing Katie’s shoulders. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Maybe not today, but I will be. Losing Cassie? It’s changed my perspective.”
“Are you referring to you and Jack?” Aunt Susan cocked an eyebrow. “You know how I love that man.”
Katie laughed at the old line. “Liar. You don’t like one hair on his head.”
Her aunt shrugged her bony shoulders. “What can I say? I have good taste.”
As the new year unfolded, Katie worked to get out of her funk. Although Mr. Parker and Gertie afforded Katie good days, the rest of the week felt as though she was slogging through mud.
Cheyenne called the second week of January. “I know you’re still hurting Katie, but other people need your unique gifts.”
Katie reluctantly agreed to take on Amanda Stokely, a thirty-nine-year-old lady who’d suffered a stroke. The Stokely home was only ten minutes from Fleming and the Morrisons, and Katie couldn’t ignore the convenience. Working with Amanda would allow Katie to zip to the Fleming post office and check on her precious documents. She couldn’t guarantee they’d stay in her box unless she cleared it from time to time. Until Amanda came into the picture, Katie had been wondering how she could pull off that feat without making Jack suspicious.
On the way to her first meeting with Amanda, Katie warned herself not to get too attached. Losing friends is an emotional train-wreck.
Within five minutes, Katie knew she’d fall in love with this woman, too. Comparing the picture on the mantle to the woman she was talking to in the kitchen, Katie noted the differences: Amanda’s once manicured nails were cut short, and the blond highlights in her hair had grown out showing darker roots. The left side of her mouth had slipped into a semi-frown—corresponding to her limp arm, and unresponsive left leg.
Amanda’s two girls, aged six and nine, were shy around Katie, but still wanted their Momma’s attention.
“Look at my drawing!”
“Watch me twirl, Mommy!”
Amanda’s overwhelmed husband, Dan, never finished a sentence. “The kids’ are making me--I don’t see how Amanda--” And he was off to investigate a ruckus in the living room. “Girls stop fighting! Or--”
“Whew! Busy place.” Katie grinned. “I bet you had things running like clockwork.”
Amanda agreed, “I did. Not having control of anything in my life,” she used her right hand to lift her left arm, and then let it drop uselessly to her side, “is almost worse than the stroke.”
Katie rubbed Amanda’s shoulder in sympathy. “We’ll get you back to normal. I can come on Tuesday and Thursday morning. We’ll work through breakfast, get those cute little monkeys off to school, and tackle housework.”
Amanda slurred a grateful, “Thank you,” and used her right arm to wipe off a counter.
Jack took Katie to dinner to celebrate her new assignment. “You’ll make that lady’s life better,” he said as he toasted Katie. Jack’s moods were mercurial, and Katie concentrated on clinking her glass.
A nice dinner out naturally required sex. Katie’s hands twisted in the sheets when Jack grabbed her hips hard enough to leave finger-sized bruises. “Look at me, Katie,” he demanded.
After his orgasm, he fell asleep quickly while she lay awake, thinking about an exit plan. Cassie would want me to keep moving forward.
She worked a trip to the post office into her next appointment with Amanda, explaining her day to Jack, “After I’m done at Amanda’s, I’m going to stop in and see the Morrisons.”
“Why? Cassie’s not there anymore.”
“Exactly. It’s been a month, and the cards and calls quit coming. They need to know I’m still here for them.”
Jack shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
By the time the Stokely family finished breakfast, and Dan had pushed the girls out the door, Katie was sweating. “Good Lord! Lunches, homework, braids, missing shoes!” She turned wide eyes toward Amanda. “How do you moms do it every day?”
The two women cleared the chaos in the kitchen and were working their way toward the living room when the physical therapist arrived. It signaled Katie’s exit. She yelled out, “Bye! I’ll see you on Thursday.”
Katie drove to the Morrisons and sat in their kitchen, looking through the picture album Julie laid on the table. Katie commented on Cassie’s banged up knees and missing front teeth.
An hour later, Bob and Julie walked Katie to her car. “Thanks for coming. It meant a lot.”
Katie squeezed them once. “I’ll try to stop by from time to time.”
Checking her watch, Katie high-tailed it to the post office. Weeks before, she’d made a tiny slit in the pad to her makeup compact and inserted her post office box key. Jack was used to seeing the compact in her purse. Even if he opened it, the key would remain hidden. No way could Katie keep the ring visible after Cassie’s death.
Katie cleared her box of advertisements and opened the manilla envelope. Just seeing the documents made her feel close to Cassie and filled Katie with resolve. She locked up the papers and drove away thinking, Don’t waste this gift, Katie.
Chapter 23
In February, Katie’s phone blipped, reminding her to make her annual OB/GYN appointment. She called and sat through three minutes of awful music.
When the receptionist got on the line, she took Katie’s information an
d announced, “We’re booking into September already.” Katie heard furious typing in the background. “You’re also due for updated lab work. It’s been more than six months since the miscarriage. Are you feeling okay?”
Katie answered quietly, “I am. I haven’t thought about losing the baby in a long while.” Saying the words out loud brought the memories temporarily to the surface.
“You have plenty of time for another child. You’re young. You’ll be twenty-eight this year. Correct?”
“Yes,” Katie answered, stiffly, resenting how easily this woman had dismissed the loss.
The woman continued, unaware of Katie’s distress, “Doctor Swisher has a note in your file requesting a mammogram. It may seem early, but with both parents deceased and so little medical history, she wants a baseline. If you schedule it a few days prior, or even the same day, the doctor could read the results during your visit.”
A possible plan burst into Katie’s head—this might be it— Katie’s brain crackled with excitement. The timing is right. Katie remembered Cassie’s warning that she needed to wait six to nine months before making her escape.
“Let’s book all of them back to back. I’m there anyway.” Katie fist-pumped the air. Yes!
She purposely picked a payday Friday, giving her an excuse to go to the bank beforehand and get some cash. Security cameras would pick her up at the bank and the medical parking lot. But inside the medical center? She didn’t think so.
The complex had been an old Georgia mansion, renovated with a new wing added for lab and diagnostics. Katie doubted there were cameras in the original section but needed to double-check before getting too excited. She remembered reading a news article about the careful restorations. The builders had promised to keep the foyer/lobby as close to the original as possible, showcasing the home’s rare Bubinga woodwork and carved staircase. It had been big news as Southerners love their history and don’t appreciate unnecessary modernization.
Katie wrote down the information; Mammogram 9:15. Lab work at 10:15 and the Ob/Gyn exam at 11:00. With careful planning, she could disappear for hours, and Jack would be none the wiser. She wouldn't have to answer her phone either since all doctors’ offices demanded their patients, “Silence cell phones.”
Katie circled September 6th on her calendar. Twice. She had months to put all the pieces into play.
She stopped by the medical building a few days later, walking up to the desk in the lobby. “Good morning. I’m hoping you can help me.” Katie gave a warm smile. “I made appointments last week and never wrote them down. Can you verify if I have the right date?” As the receptionist logged into her computer, Katie leaned across the desk, watching the security camera feeds.
They showed the parking lot, the diagnostic wing, hallways, the double staircase, and the bank of elevators behind the desk. As she’d hoped, there was no video of the small, ornate foyer, or the tiny restroom just inside the door. This could work. Katie began to plan in earnest, not only on how to disappear but how to ensure Jack would leave her alone--forever.
On an unusually windy March afternoon, the power went out at home, and Katie sprang into action. She'd been hoping for such an opportunity. She went to the electric box and hit the breakers for the security cameras, the outside lights, and a bathroom. Turning off just the cameras would be suspicious if Jack came home.
She jumped when her phone rang, reverberating against the old stone walls in the basement. Katie looked at the screen. It was Jack, and she answered quickly.
“The power’s out here at work. How about there?” Jack’s voice sounded unusually loud.
“It’s off here, too. I was heading to the box to see if it was just us.”
“The box? You mean the breakers? Why?”
Katie made up what she thought would be a plausible response--one Jack would believe. “I was gonna flip some of those switches.”
“For the love of God, Katie, don’t touch anything. The power’s out across the city. Wait for the electric company to fix it.”
“Okay. I'll light some candles.”
“That sounds sexy. I'll be home early if the electricity doesn't come back on.”
She played the sex card, which always worked in distracting Jack. “That sounds nice. Candles, a storm, and the rainy afternoon.” She scurried upstairs, yanking candles out of the pantry.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she purred.
“Well, in that case, I'll be home early whether the power is on or not. See you at four.”
Katie grimaced and entertained a recurring fantasy in which Jack would be in a one-car deadly accident on the way home.
“Stop it,” she said out loud, feeling awful for allowing herself to think such things. “You’re better than that, Katie.”
With less than an hour, she lit the candles and ran to the office. Easing open the bottom drawer, she carefully scanned each item. Sure as hell, a paper clip was balanced on top of the hanging folders. Noting its exact location, she set it aside and thumbed through files.
Mixed in with years’ worth of electric bills, she found what she was looking for, “Ah-ha. A different bank account. I had a feeling.”
She carefully removed the statements, pulling an electric bill partially out of the file so she'd remember where the papers had been hiding. She traced her finger down the columns. Looks like ol’ Jack has taken in another three thousand since Christmas.
She stacked the papers on the printer and prayed for the power to return. When the lights flickered and stayed on, she punched the copy button, willing the damn machine to go faster. She set the original papers and paper clip carefully back in place. Rolling the copies, she stuck them down inside her frilly purple umbrella in the hall closet.
Remembering the breakers, she rushed to the basement to flip them back into the on position. She was bent over, looking in the fridge, when Jack walked in the door.
“No, no. Don't move. I love that position.”
Katie gritted her teeth and commanded her face to relax.
Chapter 24
With a probable escape on the horizon, Katie devised ways to accumulate more funds. She’d read items returned on a debit card were refunded as cash instead of credit if done within two days.
With some trepidation, Katie experimented. She did their regular grocery shopping but left several items in a plastic bag in the pantry. As usual, Jack skimmed the receipt. Nodding in satisfaction, he tossed it in the trash. Later, Katie retrieved it and put it back in her purse.
The next morning, she slipped into the pantry, shoved the bag of groceries into her tote, and headed to the store. Katie plunked her items on the counter and held her breath.
The woman at the service desk scanned the receipt, and the groceries and handed Katie four dollars and fifty-six cents. No questions asked.
Katie rushed home, hid the cash down inside an instant potato box, and logged in to their bank account. Sure enough, only her purchase from the day before showed and not the refund. She checked the next day to be sure.
Repeating the process when she could, Katie managed to squirrel away almost forty-five dollars a month. When errands took her near a branch of her bank, she’d park far away, leave her phone in the car and deposit her carefully acquired funds.
With her account growing, it was time to think about a destination. Where can I go? She dreamt of a quiet town, a little off the beaten path--a place where she could blend in seamlessly.
Researching at home was too risky. Using her phone was obviously out of the question. She attempted to sneak in a little study time while at her clients’ homes.
“Gertie, can I use your computer?” Katie called from the living room, where she’d been vacuuming.
“That old thing? With these hands,” Gertie held up her twisted fingers, “I haven’t touched it in years. But you can try.”
At the ninth upgrade message, Katie pushed back from the desk in frustration. “You’re right. This thing’s a mess!”
Amanda’s speech and motor functions were returning, thanks to all the therapy, and the two women had become friends. Amanda wouldn’t care if Katie used the computer, but she’d likely ask questions Katie couldn’t answer.
Katie sat in her car, the only place she could be assured of privacy. “I can’t go north. Myrtle Beach is too expensive.” She’d been to Birmingham, Alabama once—the only vacation her parents had ever taken. “Jack would remember that, though.” She continued talking to herself, “I’d love to skip all the way across the country, but there’s not enough money. That leaves south. Florida? Louisiana?” She wasn’t sure.
On a drizzly afternoon, Katie headed to the library. Dodging the puddles, Katie ran up the wide, stone steps, flung open the doors, and stood still, momentarily filling her senses with the sight of bookcases and the smells of dust jackets and old paper. She located a sitting area full of magazines, and a bank of computers. Knowing Jack would see her location at the library, Katie pulled out her phone, sending a quick text. I’m at the library spending a rainy day with books!
Silencing her phone, she slipped it into her tote and got busy looking at maps. She read statistics and researched apartments and the cost of living. After an hour, she’d narrowed her choices down to a tiny, tourist town named White City, Florida. It was three-hundred miles down the coast, and as far as her money would take her. Toggling through data, Katie was pleased to find the town had plenty of shops and restaurants. I should be able to find a job. She researched a few property management companies, too.
She clicked “Print” and headed toward the printers when she caught sight of Jack coming through the door. His head swiveled left and right, searching for her, and her heart hammered. Should have known he’d show up here, Katie. Taking a quick left into a stack of books, she pretended to be reading the titles, when he found her.