The Scent of Wrath (The Seven Deadly Sins, Book Two)

by Greta Boris

  He leaped from his seat and strode toward the water, both hands clutching his hair. Olivia hurried after him. “Listen, it’ll be okay. I know it’ll be okay.” She was comforting herself as much as she was him.

  “Forgive me if I don’t have a lot of confidence in your judgment right now.” He shot the words at her without breaking stride.

  “I know, but hear me out. Even if Tom wanted to hurt Brian—which I can’t believe is true—everybody knows where Brian is and who he’s with. The other boys, their accidents all happened when they were alone, out in nature with no one around. Tom and Brian are in a public place. He wouldn’t hurt him now.”

  Davy’s pace slowed. “Why aren’t they answering their phones?”

  “Brian never answers his. You know that. It makes me crazy. And Tom is probably driving. The show was over about twenty minutes ago.”

  Davy stopped and turned, hope etched on his face. “Do you know where they’re going to dinner?” Her look must have told him she didn’t. He pivoted and continued his race to the car.

  “Let’s go to my place and wait for them there,” she said between breaths when she caught up to him at a red light.

  “There’s nothing else we can do.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  SEVEN-THIRTY HAD come and gone, and still there was no word from Tom or Brian. Davy had drunk half a pot of coffee and worn a path in living room rug. “I’m going to call my dad,” he said for the fifth time.

  Olivia wouldn’t argue anymore. If he wanted to call Mike, she wasn’t going to stop him even though she didn’t think it would do any good. Brian was out for the evening with a well-respected teacher from his school. A teacher who tutored him, coached him, had taken him to away games and returned him safely. And she’d given the outing her blessing. The cops weren’t going to start scouring the hundreds of possible restaurants in Orange County where they could be having dinner. Not under the circumstances.

  “I’m sure they’ll be home any minute.” She kept her voice calm. She and Davy had switched roles. Usually, she was the one panicking when Brian was out of sight, and he was the one comforting her. But she knew Tom; Davy didn’t. Whatever happened in his past, she couldn’t believe Tom would harm her child.

  “Call him again,” Davy said.

  Olivia walked toward the kitchen counter where she’d dropped her purse. Before she reached it, she heard her cell ring. She lunged the rest of the way, and fished it out of her bag as it stopped. “Hello. Hello.” No one answered. The call had been from Tom. She hit return, but it rang half a dozen times then went to voice mail. She hung up. “Damn it. I missed him.”

  “Why wouldn’t he answer? He’s got his phone right there. He just called you.” Davy’s voice rose in exasperation.

  “Maybe the calls crossed. I’ll try again.” She hit call.

  Tom answered on the second ring. “Hey there.” He sounded cheerful. She could hear Brian in the background saying, “Is that Mom?” A tsunami of relief broke over her. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. “Just checking on you guys.” Her voice came in a hoarse whisper.

  “You okay? You sound like you’re getting sick,” Tom said.

  “No, I’m just... I’m just tired. Long day. I was wondering when you two would be home.”

  “We were going to grab a frozen yogurt, then head over. Just had burgers at Ruby’s. That’s why I didn’t hear your call, by the way. The noise level in that place is off the charts.”

  “When are they coming home?” Davy mouthed the words. Olivia waved him off.

  “We can skip yogurt if you want us home sooner for some reason,” Tom said.

  “We’re not getting yogurt?” Brian sounded disappointed.

  “No. That’s okay. Go ahead and get dessert,” she said.

  Davy slashed the air and mouthed. “No. I want him home.”

  Olivia shook her head at him and continued, “Just have him home before eight-thirty if you can.”

  “No problem. See you soon.” The phone was quiet for a brief second, then she heard, “Love you,” and Tom disconnected.

  “What were you thinking?” Davy’s voice was tight with anger. “Why would you let him keep Brian out any longer than he already has?”

  “Brian is fine. I heard him.”

  “So why not get him home while he’s still fine?”

  “And what was I supposed to say? It’s a Friday night. No school tomorrow. Why shouldn’t they get a frozen yogurt to top off a fun day?”

  “I don’t know.” Davy resumed his pacing. “You could have thought of something.”

  “No, I couldn’t.” When she heard Brian’s voice through the phone, the tension she’d been under all evening had drained away, leaving her limp and exhausted. She didn’t have the energy to argue with Davy, or Tom, or anyone else. “Nothing that wouldn’t sound incredibly suspicious and, frankly, ungrateful. This man has spent all kinds of time and money to make our son happy. And Brian sounded happy.”

  “I don’t care if he’s happy. I want him safe.”

  “If Tom is the monster you think he is, the last thing we want to do is piss him off. Not while Brian is alone with him.”

  Davy clamped his jaw shut. Her point must have hit home. He walked into the kitchen, and she heard him pour himself another cup of coffee. He returned to the living room, set his mug on the coffee table, offered her a hand, and pulled her to her feet. As soon as she was standing, he put his arms around her and drew her close.

  The familiar planes of his chest, the smell of him, the rough texture of his sweater against her cheek combined to create a symphony of emotions. Nostalgia, yearning, anger, and loss overwhelmed her. She pushed him away with a gentle shove.

  “So how do we handle it when they get here?” He stepped away from her, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

  “Maybe you should go.”

  “No, I want—”

  “It’ll look strange. You being here.”

  He glanced around the room as if he was seeing it for the first time. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I am right.”

  “I’m going to wait down the street.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to make sure you’re safe. If Tom isn’t outside in fifteen minutes or less from the time he gets here, I’m coming in.”

  “Davy, I—”

  “Don’t bother.” He held up a hand. “Nothing you can say is going to change my mind.”

  The set of his jaw told her he was speaking the truth. “Don’t let him see you.”

  Davy nodded. “I’ll park under the trees and turn off the car. He’ll never notice me.”

  Olivia remembered how his car almost disappeared in the shade of those trees in daylight. “Okay.”

  Davy walked out the door and halfway up the path to the street, stopped, then turned to look at her. “I know I didn’t take care of you as I should have. I failed you when you needed me. I’m not going to do it again. No matter what happens between us, Olivia, I’m here for you and for Brian. I’m going to keep you safe.”

  He walked the rest of the way to the car, started it and pulled it into the darkness at the end of the block, invisible but present. Something comforting and warm wrapped around her like a flannel robe, and she relaxed for the first time that day.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  OLIVIA HADN’T SEEN Tom in over a week, not since the night he took Brian to the horse show. Avoiding him hadn’t been difficult. Brian had come down with a cold the next day. He couldn’t go to school or his tutoring sessions all week. By Wednesday, Olivia was running a fever and coughing along with her son.

  The forced vacation from her usual nonstop schedule had given her a chance to think. She’d come to the conclusion she had to end things with Tom. Not because she believed he’d done some terrible thing, but because she didn’t believe he hadn’t. She couldn’t be with a man she didn’t fully trust. Not again.

  Her suspicions made her feel guilty. She cou
ldn’t shake the idea the newspaper articles were from a scorned lover from Tom’s past who wanted to punish him for something, or keep him for herself. But it didn’t matter. She had to get back to the business of rebuilding her own life and her son’s. She didn’t have the time, or energy for the drama. Nor could she risk CPS getting wind of anything even remotely threatening to her son’s safety.

  Davy had brought offerings when he heard she was sick too: chicken soup, ice cream, and pizza. He’d stayed to play video games and watch movies, and generally hovered. It surprised her how nice it had been to have him around, how comfortable. She’d allowed herself to feel hopeful about him for the first time since they’d broken up. Not that they’d get back together, never that. But maybe they could be friends again. Davy had been a friend before he was a husband.

  He was in her Statistics class. She’d watched him flirt with the girls and yuck it up with the guys, and dismissed him as a shallow frat boy. Until the first quiz. She sat at her desk after class was dismissed, paper in hand, and tears in her eyes, staring at the large “D” at the top of her page.

  “Ouch.” Davy sat in the chair in front of her.

  “I’m hopeless at this stuff. It doesn’t make sense, no matter how hard I study.”

  “Maybe I can help. Statistics is one of the few subjects I’m good at.” His smile was self-deprecating.

  She hadn’t thought about their tutoring sessions in years, and the memory brought a smile to her face. They’d met in a quiet corner of the library, which was their first mistake. After two weeks, they’d found it impossible to keep their minds on their books and their hands off each other. Olivia had almost flunked Statistics.

  It was Sunday night, and Davy had brought Brian home early. The boys were at her place now playing Iron Kingdom, while she picked up Chinese food. They hadn’t had a real meal together, all three of them, in over a year.

  She passed her ATM card to a teenage boy behind the counter, grabbed a couple of extra chopsticks and the fragrant, white bag. He ran the card and returned it. She pushed open the restaurant door with one hip as she fiddled with all the items in her hands. She shifted the bag of food under an arm. She needed both hands to stuff her card into her overstuffed wallet. She dropped the wallet into her purse and began searching through it for her car keys. Halfway across the parking lot, she found them. That was the first time she looked up. When she did, she stopped short. Her heart jumped a hurdle.

  Tom leaned on the front fender of her SUV, ankles and arms crossed, watching her. What was he doing here? She plastered an uneasy smile on her face and walked toward him with measured steps. She didn’t want to see him. Not now. Her plan had been to talk to him when they went out this week, to tell him face to face she was breaking things off. For an awkward second, she worried he’d read her mind and had come to confront her.

  “What’s up?” she asked when she got close.

  “Waiting for you.” A flash of bright teeth.

  “Nice surprise.” It wasn’t.

  “I thought maybe you were avoiding me.” He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. Olivia turned her head, and it landed on her cheek.

  “Wouldn’t kiss me.” She kept her voice light. “I might still be contagious.”

  He backed away with his hands up. “You look so good, I forgot.”

  The sun was setting behind him, leaving his face in dark silhouette, making it hard to read his expression. “How did you know I’d be here?” she said.

  “I didn’t. I stopped by the grocery store.” He pointed to the big market that anchored the shopping center. “And saw your car. You haven’t been very communicative this week. I figured if Mohammad wouldn’t come to the mountain, and all that.”

  “So you saw the mountain and decided to park in front of it?” Olivia’s nerves were singing.

  “Pretty much.”

  The lights in the parking lot popped on all at once. She jumped.

  “I missed you.” His voice quieted. Shadows deepened the furrows in his forehead.

  “Tuesday...” She changed the subject.

  “Right, are we still on?”

  “Sure.” She could feel the Chinese food cooling in her hands. It was getting late, and she wanted to go home.

  “Great. Pick you up at six-thirty,” he said.

  “Why don’t I meet you at Korba’s? I’ll be coming straight from work.” Korba’s was a family owned Greek restaurant she often went to. It was a quiet spot, good for a somber conversation. She didn’t want Tom to come to her condo. She didn’t want to go to his home either. A public place, neutral territory, seemed best.

  “That’s the place on Crown Valley, right?”

  Olivia nodded.

  “Sounds great.” He moved toward her, but she retreated.

  “Cold. Remember?”

  “Oh, right.” He waved a hand instead, then walked past her into the next row of cars. He raised his electronic key and a nearby vehicle chirped to life. She watched him pull out of the lot. A feeling of emptiness washed over her. It had been nice having a man in her life again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 28TH, 1992

  “WHAT ARE YOU going to do?” Clarice sat on the bench with her back to the picnic table.

  I rolled from my knees to a seated position in the dirt, removed a garden glove and wiped my brow. “All I ever say these days is, ‘I don’t know.’“

  “You could sell the house.”

  “I’ve thought of it,” I said. “But it’s not just the house. It’s the garden. It’s Abuela Maria. It’s our history.”

  “Abuela Maria would understand,” Clarice said.

  In the past three months since Scottie’s funeral my family had been treated like pariahs. The M.E. declared his death accidental, but Molly had become fixated on the idea that Doug was responsible. She thought Doug had engineered the fall somehow. Although there was no evidence to support her belief, the neighborhood accepted it as fact. It proved the old axiom: If you say something long and loud enough people will believe it.

  “Lily came home from school in tears yesterday,” I said. “It’s career week. The teacher went around the room asking the students what their parents did for a living. That Romano boy...”

  “Rickie?”

  “Right, Rickie, he asked Lily how it felt to have a murderer for a father.”

  “Kids are mean.” Clarice leaned on her elbows and tilted her face to the sun.

  I picked up my trowel and stabbed at the dirt. “It’s not just kids. Molly is obsessed. Even Paul can’t control her. She shows up at the police station with new evidence every week. She started a petition to have our children thrown out of Mission Basilica.”

  “The kids? Why is she targeting the kids?” Clarice sat up.

  “She says as long as our kids are in the school, Doug will show up for events, and he’s a danger to the other children.

  “She’s—”

  “Grieving. She’s grieving, Clare. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose Tomas.”

  “I get that, but attacking you isn’t going to bring Scottie back.”

  “When kids die, people want something, someone, to blame. They don’t want to believe it was chance, because if it was chance it could happen to them. They want to understand the risk so they can fight it, protect against it, assure themselves their children aren’t going to be the next victims. Doug’s an obvious choice.”

  “Then move. Get out of San Juan. Get a new start somewhere else.” Clarice’s jaw tightened. “I know you love all the heritage stuff Abuela fed you, but for God’s sake, Sage, this place is killing you. You can’t sacrifice your family for a patch of dirt.”

  “Where would we go?” I popped a starter plant out of its plastic pot and positioned it in the hole I’d just dug.

  “Go to Doug’s family in Michigan. His mother is worried sick about you. He has two brothers who could help. You need help, Sage.”

  “Doug went
to Providence today to talk to them. His doctor cleared him to return to work. He wants his old job.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Clarice said with a bitter laugh.

  “Why?” I said, but I knew the answer.

  “Beverly Parker, the HR director at Providence, is close friends with Molly Travers’s mother. Scottie’s grandmother. She’ll never sign off on it. I’m telling you, this area is incestuous. You’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Even if we wanted to move, we’re broke. Doug hasn’t worked for, what five, six months? The insurance money is almost gone. Moving is expensive.”

  “This house is worth a lot of money.”

  I patted dirt around the basil plant and stuck my trowel into the ground a foot away. I had so little left. If I lost this garden too, I was afraid I’d lose myself.

  The back door to the house opened. Doug stood in the doorway. I saw Clarice stiffen and felt another pang of loss. When Doug and I started dating, Clarice was still in high school. She’d had such a crush on him, she’d turn pink and stammer over her words every time he came to pick up me for a date. As the years passed, the crush became a friendship, and then a brother-sister relationship. Now I could see Clarice was afraid of him.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  “Okay. They filled my old position. Had to. I was gone so long. But Hank said they’d keep me in mind if anything opened up.”

  “Good. That’s good,” I said.

  “Can’t count on it, though. I’m going to have to get my resume together.”

  “Something will come up.” I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I smiled to encourage him. “There’s a glass of tea and a sandwich in the fridge for you.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” The door closed.

  “Don’t forget your pills.” I raised my voice so he could hear me through the screen.

  “I’d better get going.” Clarice rose from the bench and kissed me on the top of my head. “Don’t get up.”

  I watched my sister walk around the side of the house to her car. Going through was quicker. But Doug was inside.