“I’m shooting a lot of computers,” Todd was saying, his face alive with excitement. “It’s not all that artistic—mostly for catalogs—but there are unique challenges and I really like the people I’m working with. And I’ve been doing some outside work—houses for a developer …” His voice trailed off and his face clouded.
“What?” Lauren asked, taking a bite of her salad.
Todd turned to Drew and started up a round of Robin Hood French fries, a game they’d been playing for years in which Drew became Robin, Todd the sheriff of Nottingham, and the French fries swords.
“That’s enough, Drew,” Lauren said, although she was really talking to Todd. “It’s time to eat.” She occupied herself cutting Drew’s steak and then looked up at Todd. She didn’t say anything, not knowing whether she wanted to hear what had happened with the developer or not.
“You’re probably not going to agree with me,” Todd said and took a bite of his chicken sandwich. He chewed for a while, then looked her straight in the eye. “I walked off the shoot.”
Lauren toyed with her salad. Here it came again: another Todd screwup. She didn’t need to hear it. She didn’t need to get caught up in Todd’s irresponsibility. That’s why they were getting a divorce. Not to mention that she was involved in a new relationship—a relationship with a man who was too mature to walk away from his responsibilities.
“You know what, Todd, why don’t you skip the story. We’re having a nice lunch here, let’s not ruin it.”
“Is it a good story, Daddy?” Drew asked. “Does it have bad guys and good guys?”
Todd gazed at Drew for a long moment. “Yes, slugger, it does. But I’m afraid Mommy’s going to think I’m one of the bad guys.”
Drew’s eyes grew wide. “Were you?”
“No,” Todd said. “I think I was a good guy.”
“Tell me the story,” Drew demanded.
Todd looked at Lauren and she shrugged her permission. She carefully cut a few tomatoes and thought about Gabe slipping her dress over her hips, gasping as he cupped her breasts. But despite her attempts to tune Todd out, Lauren couldn’t help listening to his story.
It seemed that Todd had been hired by Danforth Associates to take photographs for a brochure advertising its new subdivision, Brattle Woods, in Sudbury. He had put in more than forty hours on the project—at $200 an hour, the highest hourly rate Todd had ever received—and Philip Walcott Danforth III had been very pleased with the results. He’d promised to give Todd more work when the project was completed.
“And then last week,” Todd told them, “Phil called and said to come out to his house in Weston, rather than going over to Sudbury. He asked me to bring all my equipment.” Todd paused and gave Lauren a look that she knew all too well: “Just give me a chance,” it said.
“And then what happened, Daddy?” Drew prodded.
“It turned out that Mr. Danforth was a bad guy,” Todd said to Drew. “He wanted me to cheat.” He turned to Lauren. “Ol’ Phil’s plan was for me to photograph some of the details and construction of his house—a house I’d guess to be worth well over a million dollars—details and construction that were never going to be part of the Brattle Woods project.”
“He was going to use those photos along with your others for the brochure to sell the Sudbury houses?” Lauren asked.
“I don’t get it,” Drew said.
Neither Lauren nor Todd answered him; they just looked at each other for a long moment. Then Lauren reached over and squeezed Todd’s hand. “You’re a good guy,” she said, surprised at the pride she felt and the tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. She let go of his hand and looked down at her salad, thinking that although Todd might not be the most dependable person in the world, he had to be one of the most ethical. Which is why his unfaithfulness with Melissa had been so upsetting. Lauren raised her eyes. “You did the right thing.”
“I still don’t get it,” Drew said.
Todd picked up a French fry and they dueled for a minute. “Maybe when you get older, you’ll understand,” Todd said. “The important thing is that Mommy does.” He smiled shyly at Lauren.
Drew stood up and announced he had to go to the bathroom. When Todd rose to accompany him, Drew threw his father a disdainful look. “I’m not a baby,” he declared. “You stay and talk to Mommy.” Then he ran off toward the front of the restaurant.
Todd sat down with a smile. “So our baby isn’t a baby anymore.”
Lauren stared into her salad. “So he’s been telling me.”
“What is it?” Todd asked. “Did he get into more trouble at school?”
“Two things—but neither at school,” Lauren said slowly.
“Tell me what you’re talking about.”
Lauren sighed and told him what had happened at the playground and what Drew had done to Bunny.
“Bunny?” Todd’s face was creased with concern. “Are you sure? I can’t believe he’d hurt that stuffed animal. He loves Bunny—he has since he was born.”
“‘Not anymore’ is what he told me,” Lauren said miserably. “I guess he’s learned somewhere along the line that love doesn’t last forever.”
Todd lowered his eyes. “Should we call Dr. Berg?”
“I did tell Drew he couldn’t hurt anything that belonged to someone else—and he didn’t. He hurt something of his own. In abizarre way, he was only following instructions.”
“It’s still a weird thing for a kid to do—and it sounds to me like things are getting worse. The playground episode could just be little boy stuff, but Bunny … Really, Laurie, he dismembered his favorite toy! This isn’t something we can easily dismiss.” Todd took her hand in his. “I’ll call Dr. Berg first thing in the morning.”
Lauren nodded.
Todd played with the ends of her fingers. “He’s the most precious thing we have. He’s—”
“See?” Drew announced, dropping into the seat next to Todd. “I’m old enough to go to the bathroom by myself.”
“I see that you are, slugger,” Todd said, dropping Lauren’s hand and drawing his son close. “I see that you are.”
“Can we all go to the movies?” Drew asked.
Todd looked over at Lauren and their gazes held. “If Mommy says it’s okay, I suppose we could see what’s playing.”
Lauren was tempted, but she had planned to spend the afternoon working on Rebeka Hibbens, and she knew it was best not to raise Drew’s hopes about a reconciliation between her and Todd—although, she had to admit at the moment, the idea did have a strong appeal.
She looked at her watch. “I’d love to, but I’ve got to meet someone at three,” she lied, knowing neither Todd nor Drew would accept working on a book that wasn’t due until February as a legitimate excuse.
Drew kicked the table. “Not mat guy from your work who came to dinner,” he said with a pout.
“Don’t do that, Drew,” Lauren ordered, grabbing his leg.
Todd’s smile disappeared and the pain in his eyes was so acute that Lauren winced. “Are you seeing someone?” he asked.
“Not really,” Lauren said, shaking her head. “Gabe Phipps just came over for Chinese food the other night.”
“The Gabe Phipps?” Todd asked. “Traveling in some pretty impressive company, I see.”
“He’s helping me with the book.…” Lauren’s voice trailed off.
“Sure,” Todd said, turning his attention back to his sandwich. “I can see where he’d be a great help.”
Drew kicked the table again. “I want Daddy to live with us.” He glared at Lauren. “It’s all your fault he can’t—and I hate you.” Then he burst into tears.
Todd gathered Drew in his arms and kissed the boy’s hair. “It’s not Mommy’s fault,” he said, holding his son close. “It’s a decision we both made.” But when he looked at Lauren over Drew’s head, his eyes glimmered with unshed tears. And she knew that on one level it was her fault: She had it in her power to change the situation.
> More than anything in the world, Lauren wanted to make Drew and Todd happy, to stand up and say, “Fine, let’s all go home together.” But even though her heart ached with their pain—and her own—the memories of Todd’s betrayals were too fresh.
She reached over and touched Drew’s cheek. “This isn’t about you, Mister Boy,” she said. “We both love you very much.”
But Drew twisted away from her hand and buried his head against Todd’s chest. Lauren escaped to the ladies’ room.
When Lauren returned, Todd and Drew were waiting for her at the front of the restaurant. Todd kissed Drew and told Lauren he’d speak with her tomorrow. Then, without meeting her eye, he loped off down the street. Lauren and Drew followed at a slower pace. Drew refused to speak to her.
As they walked across Porter Square, Lauren wondered whether she and Todd should stop spending time together with Drew. Not that they did it often, but it almost always ended with Drew in tears—and sometimes Todd and herself too. It was so painful for everyone, and now that Todd seemed to be getting his life in order, it was becoming confusing. As long as Todd was screwing up, no matter what she felt for him and no matter what Drew wanted, Lauren knew that they couldn’t be married. But if Todd had really changed, might there be other options? And if there were, what did that mean for her relationship with Gabe?
As they turned the corner onto Upton Street, a toddler careened into Lauren’s legs. He fell to the sidewalk, landing on his well-padded bottom, and looked up at her in surprise. Lauren bent down and helped him stand.
The little boy’s father, who came running after him, scooped his son up. “Sorry,” he said to Lauren, a sheepish smile on his face. He turned toward a breathless woman who came up behind them. “Got him!” he said. “Go bug your mother, you little monkey” he told the boy as he swung him over his head and placed him in his mother’s waiting arms. When he planted a kiss on his wife’s cheek, Lauren’s eyes filled with tears.
As soon as they got home, Drew headed for his room. Lauren watched him go, wondering what she could do to console him. Then she stiffened. The apartment had a strange smell. As if something were burning. She quickly went into the kitchen and checked the stove and the toaster oven. Everything was off and the smell was actually weaker than it had been in the hall.
Sniffing, she checked the living room fireplace. Again nothing, and again the smell seemed weaker. Wondering if she had imagined it, she looked around the room. At first everything looked normal, but then she was overcome by the sense that something wasn’t right. With a start, she realized it felt as if someone had been in the apartment. One of the window shades was higher than she usually left it, and the overstuffed chair that neither she nor Drew liked appeared lumpy, as if someone had recently sat there.
She rubbed her arms. No one had been here, she told herself. This was her mind’s doing: all this talk of witches and sorcery and black magic. Nonetheless, she checked Drew’s room—where he had already managed to cover the floor with Legos—looking under his bed and in his closet. She went into the bathroom and checked behind the shower curtain. Then she walked toward her bedroom.
As she got closer to her room, the odor intensified and she recognized it as incense. She went back down the hall and closed Drew’s door, then approached her bedroom again. Slowly, she walked in, noting the unmade bed and yesterday’s clothes thrown haphazardly over the chair. The room appeared just as she had left it.
Then she noticed her bureau. Someone had been in the apartment. Her things had been moved. With a furtive look at her closed closet door, she advanced toward the bureau. As she got closer, her heart began to pound and she broke into a full body sweat.
On the bureau were the burned remains of two black candles. Between the candles lay a tiny braid of hair. On the edge of the bureau was her hairbrush. It was immaculately clean.
Twenty
LAUREN STARED AT THE GRIM TABLEAU BEFORE HER. Someone had broken into her house. Defiled her space. Left two burned candles and a small, angry-looking braid. She grabbed the candle stubs and threw them in the wastebasket, then did the same with the braid. She was repulsed by the tiny twist of hair, so like a mass of tangled snakes. The knowledge that the hair was her own only added to her disgust.
Did this mean, evil sorcerers were after her soul? That she should stop working on Rebeka Hibbens? That if she continued with the book, she would soon be dead?
Lauren prowled the apartment again, looking under couches and chairs, in back of bureaus and bookshelves. Furious with this violation, she almost hoped she would find the culprit cowering behind her furniture. She clenched her fists and imagined her fingers encircling a neck, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing.…
But as it became clear that no one was in the apartment and that nothing had been taken, Lauren’s anger turned to fear. Someone had slid in and out of her home with amazing ease. Someone who had done it once could do it again. She stepped to the phone and dialed.
“Cambridge Police. This call is being recorded.”
Lauren hesitated. What exactly should she say? That her apartment had been broken into but nothing taken? That the burglar had removed hair from her brush and made it into a braid? “Is, ah, is Dan Ling there, please?” she finally asked.
The phone clicked in her ear. Finally the dispatcher returned. “Ling’s out on patrol. Do you want to speak to someone else?”
Lauren took a deep breath. “There’s been a break-in. At my apartment. But nothing was taken, and it’s obvious that whoever was here isn’t here anymore. I didn’t really want to bother you about it, so I figured that because Dan Ling is a friend, maybe he could come by and check it out.” Lauren knew she was rambling but couldn’t stop herself. “Truth is, I’d feel better if a policeman did come—”
“I can send someone over now, or you can wait until Ling gets back. Could be two, maybe three, hours. It’s your call.”
“Oh, I’ll wait for Dan,” Lauren said quickly, relieved she wouldn’t have to explain the situation to a stranger. “I’ll be happy to wait.” She gave her name and address to the dispatcher. And then she waited.
She cleaned the kitchen and straightened her bed, barely able to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, she and Gabe had made love here. Whatever was she going to do about Gabe? Todd had been so sweet at Friendly’s; her hands had felt so comfortable in his. But she had a date with Gabe Tuesday night. Did this mean she was going to sleep with him again? Was she actually having an affair? Then her eyes went to the wastebasket and she saw the limp braid. She had bigger problems than Todd and Gabe. She glanced at her watch, hoping Dan would come soon.
Drew let her play space station with him, apparently forgiving her for her earlier behavior. But when, for the second time, she forgot they were orbiting planet Ganymede to save Earth from a wayward comet, Drew suggested, not unkindly, that she go read the paper. Lauren tried but found she was no better able to concentrate on world disasters than she had been on Drew’s intergalactic ones.
Finally Dan showed up. Lauren had never seen him in uniform before, and he looked painfully young. “What’s up?” he demanded as he strode into the apartment. “Everything all right?”
“Yes and no,” she said.
“Let me have it quick,” Dan said. “I’ve only got a few minutes. Helene’s in a bad way, and I promised I’d come right home after my shift.” He smiled sadly. “I guess our getaway didn’t have the effect I’d hoped.”
Drew popped out of his room and looked wide-eyed at Dan. “The police?” he breathed, a wide grin filling his face. “Here?”
“This is Dan Ling,” Lauren told him. “Remember I was talking to him at the playground?”
“I didn’t know he was the police.” Drew was staring at Dan’s gun. “Is it loaded?” he asked Dan.
Dan put his hand over the holster. “It’s only for emergencies.”
“Can I touch it?” Drew asked.
Dan shook his head. “Sorry, that’s against regulations.”<
br />
“Dan’s just here for a cup of coffee,” Lauren told Drew. “Why don’t you go back to your space station and I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner?”
Drew threw one last glance at the gun but did as Lauren asked.
In a low voice, Lauren told Dan what had happened while he scribbled furiously in a small notebook. Then he made her take the candles and braid out of the wastebasket and set them up exactly as she had found them.
“Shit,” he said, staring at the bureau. “A real voodoo warning.” He quickly but thoroughly searched the apartment. “Anyone have a key?” he asked after finding no signs of forced entry.
“Todd, Aunt Beatrice,” Lauren said slowly as they stood in the living room, “and Jackie. There was, still is I guess, a key hanging in her kitchen.…”
“With your name on it?” he demanded.
Lauren didn’t answer as she tried to visualize the jumble of labeled keys hanging from the wall in Jackie’s kitchen. They both knew Jackie well enough to know that a woman who kept an extra key to her own house in the mailbox would most likely have written Lauren’s name on her key. Dan called a twenty-four-hour locksmith and told him to come over immediately.
Lauren offered to make a pot of coffee, but Dan shook his head and asked her to recount every detail of her day. When she was finished, he asked, “Who knew you were going to be out this morning?”
Lauren shrugged. “Lots of people. Aunt Beatrice, Todd, Gabe, Drew, Deborah, the other witches …”
“Do you happen to know if Deborah has ever been to Jackie’s house?”
“At least a few times.”
“I’m going to try Conway again,” Dan said as they walked to the front door. “Even he’s got to see there’s a connection between Jackie’s death and this break—” He cut himself off as Drew bounded out of his bedroom.
“What’s for dinner?” Drew asked Lauren, although he was looking at Dan. “Is it time yet?”
“In a few minutes,” Lauren said, trying not to think about Deborah drinking tea in Jackie’s kitchen, about Jackie giving Deborah the Deodat Willard print, about Deborah taking advantage of Jackie’s openness and generosity. “Go play for a bit and then we’ll figure out something fun to eat.”
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