The hunt, p.21
The Hunt, page 21
“I did. Thank you for calling back, Ms. Robertson. I’m putting you on speaker so my partner, Detective Decker, can hear.” He pressed the button.
“Hi, Ms. Robertson,” Decker said. “We’re looking for information on your former boyfriend, Brock Baer—”
A big groan. “That son of a bitch. What did he do now?”
“Uh, we’re not sure he did anything,” he said. “We’re trying to locate him—”
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know where that mofo is.”
“You know, he’s out on parole.”
“Yeah, I know. He came over to my house, when he was first sprung, asking for help. Can you imagine the nerve?”
“When was this?” Decker asked.
“When he was first released. About a year and some change ago. Asking me for help!”
“I take it you said no,” McAdams said.
“I said if he didn’t get his ass off my property, I’d call the police. Then he got loud—screaming and yelling and calling me names—as usual. I got out Sassy Sally and fired it in the air. I told him the next round of buckshot was calling his ass. He left.”
“And?”
“And that was it.”
“He didn’t return?”
“If he had returned, he’d be in a pine box.”
“Got it,” Decker said. “He posted some pretty awful things about you. Can I ask what that was all about?”
“What can I say? He’d get drunk and we got into it. Nothing new there. He slapped me around. Not new either. But then he fired a gun in my wall to show me he was serious. That was new. I talked him down. Finally, he left the apartment. I called the police, and when they took the bullet from the wall, they had a case to arrest the asshole. I think he got four years.”
“And he came to your house about a year ago?” McAdams asked.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Decker said, “And you have no idea where he might have gone?”
“Don’t know and don’t care.”
“Did he ever talk to you about his ex-wife?”
“He had more than one.”
“Pauline Corbett.”
“Ye-ah, he talked about her all the time. Mostly in the negative. Whenever we’d fight, it was always, ‘You’re just like Pauline. I’m gonna get that bitch.’ Yadda, yadda, yadda. He hated her. But that didn’t stop him from yakking on and on about her. He was obsessed with her. Is she okay?”
Decker said, “No, ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you that she’s dead—murdered.”
A long pause over the line. “The bastard finally did it.”
“You think that Brock murdered Pauline.”
“He talked about it all the time. Until he pointed the gun at me, I thought it was hot air. How’d she die?”
“Stabbed to death.”
“Not shot?”
“No.”
“Up close and personal,” Tanya said. “Poor woman.”
McAdams said, “Did you ever meet Pauline?”
“Not in person, no. But I could tell you what she looked like. He had several shoeboxes of photographs of her. Some were old, like from when they were married. Others were more recent. By recent I mean before he went to prison. But you could tell they were on the sly. Brock was stalking her, taking pictures without her knowing.”
“Yikes,” McAdams said.
“That’s Brock. Has to have something or someone to bitch about. When I found the shoeboxes underneath the bed, I asked him about all the pictures of Pauline. He told me that it was none of my damn business and hid the boxes somewhere else.”
Decker said, “You wouldn’t by any chance still have those photographs?”
“I do have them. I found them when I moved. They were hidden on a closet shelf. I threw away almost everything that belonged to him, but I kept the photos. Then when he showed up, I was gonna give them back to him. I was about to say something, but then he started getting loud. WTF. Why should I do that bastard any favors?”
“But you didn’t throw them out.”
“No, I still have them somewhere. I have to look.”
“Could you do that?” Decker asked. “And if possible, could you mail them to me?”
“Sure.”
“That would be great,” Decker said. “How about if I give you a FedEx or UPS number?”
“Sounds good.”
Decker gave her the digits. “When you have a tracking number, if you could email it to me, I’d be much obliged. I don’t want anything lost.”
“No problem,” Tanya said. “God, that asshole actually murdered someone?”
“We don’t know,” Decker said. “We’ve just started looking into Pauline’s death. Baer may be totally innocent.”
“The words Baer and innocent don’t go together,” she said. “If there’s trouble, Brock is involved.”
Decker said, “We’ll be in touch. And, Tanya, keep an eye out.”
“’Preciate the concern, but I got Sassy Sally,” Tanya said. “I’m ready for anything.”
SITTING AT HIS desk inside his suite, eyes on his computer, Chris called out to me, “You’ve got to look at the screen next to the code box.”
I was outside trying to sync my retinal scan with the machine. “I am looking at the screen.”
“It’s not registering.” He regarded my craning neck and smiled. “You’re way too short.” He got up and rolled his desk chair out the door. “Can you balance on this without falling on your ass?”
“Remains to be seen.”
“I’ll get you something to stand on later, but try this in the meantime.”
“You don’t have a stepladder?”
“Why the hell would I need a stepladder?” He helped me onto the seat. “Just kneel. You should be eye to eye with the screen.”
When he took his hand away from mine, I wobbled.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Just stare into the screen and don’t move until I tell you to.”
He went back to his computer and I did as he instructed, always a good student. It took a minute.
He said, “Great. Now put your right thumb on the screen.”
I complied.
When he was done, he helped me off the chair and we went back inside the room. He pulled out three keys. “The pupil and thumb recognition will allow you to unlock the door once it gives you the green light. These are your copies. I know they work because I’ve tried them out. First, let’s see if you can go outside by yourself. Then we’ll see if you can get inside.”
Everything worked. But it was a strain. The door was enormously heavy to open and close. But I managed to do it and lock up without the alarm going off. After it was over, he handed me the keys. “Your partial freedom.”
“Partial?”
“We’ll have to program the entrance and downstairs elevator to get you up here. And then we’ll have to program you into the system if you want to get in and out of Gabe’s room to see your daughter.”
“That would be great. When can we do that?”
“Some other time. But I’ll do it. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” A pause. “Terry, I have beeps on my computer that trigger when someone is going in and out of the doors upstairs and using my private elevator. I also have cameras all over the place. But my eyes and ears can’t be everywhere at the same time.”
“I’ll let you know what I’m doing beforehand.”
“Please. I’m responsible for your safety. And Juleen’s safety. I have enough going on without having to chase you down.”
“I understand.” I gave his face a hard stare. “Who did this to me, Chris? Who hurt me and took my baby? Was it Devek?”
“I told you: no questions.”
“I have a right to know.”
“And you will know when the time’s right.”
“Is my son safe?” When he didn’t answer, I choked up. I said, “Is he even alive—”
“He’s alive.” When I started to say something, he put a finger to my lips. Tears were running down my face. He wiped them with his thumb and said, “I’m doing the best I can. But there are no guarantees. That’s all I can say right now. No more questions, okay?”
I nodded. “I think I need a change of scenery.”
“Probably. Let’s go out for dinner. Wait … I can’t tonight. Tomorrow?”
“Sure.” My second outing in less than a week. I was a veritable party girl. I wiped my tears with my dress. “Where?”
“I own a small Italian restaurant in the same strip mall as the dentist. It’s casual and it’s certainly not gourmet, but it’s passable. The locals seem to like it. So do my workers. I know you still can’t eat perfectly, but the minestrone is good and it’s vegetarian. Sound good?”
“Great.” Again, I dried my eyes.
He took me in his arms. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, baby doll. I truly am. I hate to see you suffering. And I know you’re suffering.”
The tears came back. “Thank you.”
He held me for a few moments in silence. “Terry, I need a favor from you.”
“Can it wait a few hours? I could use a little break.”
“It’s not sexual.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
“Every year around Labor Day, I throw a big bash for everyone who has been here in the past year: my guests, my clients, my workers, my employees … It’s usually around a hundred to a hundred-fifty people. I have a band and food and an open bar—we do it in the lounge, where I took you to meet Mike Badger. He comes every year, by the way.”
“Do you want me to help plan something?”
“No, Talia will take care of everything. She does it every year. She has it down to a science.” A pause. “I would like you to come to the party, okay?”
“If you want me there, of course I’ll come.”
“I do want you there. You’re my fiancée. You’re going to be my wife. It would reflect badly on me if you weren’t there.”
I paused and broke away from him. “What are you trying to tell me, Chris?”
“The way these things work, I have to be available to anyone who wants to talk or dance with me, including my workers. My parties are their time—when they can let their hair down with the boss. So, while I want you there—I need you to be there—I’ll also need my space.”
I took a few moments to answer. “Like the scene in the cafeteria?”
“Times a hundred.”
“So, what do I do? Sit in a corner by myself and smile?”
“More or less.”
I threw my arms out. “It’s fine, Chris. Do what you need to do. I’m the interloper here.”
“You’re not an interloper—”
“Your whore, then.”
“You are not my whore.” His expression darkened. “You trade places with any of my workers for one day, and you’ll find out exactly what it really means to be a whore. Any one of them would jump at the opportunity to be in your shoes. You were my wife, you will be my wife again, and, in my mind, you have always been my wife, regardless of who you’ve been with. You’re just doing what wives have done for their husbands over the centuries. So stop saying you’re my whore. It’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“And stop shining me on!”
“Don’t you dare get mad at me.” I tried to control my anger. “You have a business to run. I won’t get in your way. Besides, I’m used to standing on the sidelines while you party.”
He walked over to me and picked up my chin. “Terry, this is not high school—”
“It is, actually.” I freed my face from his hand. “Except we’re all adults now and I know what to expect from you, which is a lot of sitting in the corner by myself.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No?” I walked away and began to pace. “God, even in high school, I had a boyfriend, who, by the way, adored me. Maybe I should do that now, Chris. Get my own boyfriend. Maybe Mike Badger. He sure seemed to like me. And since you’re borrowing money from him, I betcha he’s doing fine in the bucks department.”
His voice got low and menacing. “Stop it.”
“Yeah, he is pretty ugly. I could do better—”
“Did you ever screw him?”
Confused, I turned to face him. “Are you kidding me?”
“Not Mike,” he said. “Daniel Reiss. Did you fuck him?”
He was still on my high school boyfriend. “How could you ask that?” I snapped. “You know I was a virgin when I came to you.”
“It could have been your period.”
“It could have been, but it wasn’t. Although maybe it would have been better if I had done it with Daniel. It certainly would have been better circumstances.”
“Cut it out, Terry.”
“This isn’t about me or anything I’ve done, Donatti, so stop deflecting the conversation to make you look like the victim, okay?”
“Then stop pushing my buttons and talking about other guys. You know how jealous I get.” He bit his lip. “Look, are you going to come? Yes or no?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you have a choice. I can make excuses. The workers would probably feel freer if you weren’t there. But it’s not what I want.”
It was times like this that I remembered precisely why I had an affair. Something to call my own. The pregnancy, however, had been unplanned—the one of two consequences from my second disastrous marriage that turned out well. With Devek, my anger had always been a continuous simmer. With Chris, it was and had always been a hot blue flame. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there and I’ll be all smiles.”
“You’re pissed.”
You better believe it, I thought. I held up the keys. “At least I have my partial freedom.” When he didn’t react, I shrugged. “Go have your fun, Chris.”
“It’s not fun, Terry, it’s work.”
That made me even madder. “Okay, then go have your fun work. Go screw whoever you want. I don’t give a damn what you do.”
“And you never did,” he told me. “That was part of the problem.”
“That’s utter horseshit! Stop feeling sorry for yourself because I bested you one time in the screwing department.”
He turned red in the face. “Okay. You got your revenge. You totally humiliated me. You totally trashed me. Good for you. I’m sure I deserved it. I certainly suffered because of it.”
“You don’t have a lock on suffering, you know.”
“You’re right. So maybe it’s time for both of us to move on.”
“I can’t move on with my child missing, Christopher! Get my son and then I’ll be happy to move on.”
He suddenly looked weary. His voice turned soft. “It’s going to take a while longer, baby doll. And like I said, there are no guarantees. I assure you I’m doing whatever I can.”
Suddenly a stupid party seemed trivial. Tears sprang up from nowhere. “Is he suffering?”
“No, he’s not suffering. He’s probably scared, but he’s okay.” He flipped his hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t an easy fix. Just be patient and trust me, okay?”
I wiped my eyes, wondering who had my son. And if Sanjay had been taken by horrible men because of Devek’s debts, why was he still alive? And then it dawned on me, idiot that I was. “You’re paying off Devek’s debts, aren’t you?” I waited for an answer. All I got was silence. “How much is it costing you?”
“None of your business.”
“I’ll pay you back, Christopher. I’ll pay you every penny no matter how long it takes.”
An eye roll was his response. He said, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Don’t bring it up. For both our sakes, okay?”
“Okay.” My eyes were still wet. “Thank you for all your help. I’ll come to your party and I’ll be a good sport. I promise.”
“Thank you.” He blew out air. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Where are you going?”
“To see my staff. The more contact I have with my employees, the harder they work. And while I’m in the cafeteria, I’ll put in the lunch order for your daughter. Do you want anything?”
“No, but I’ll come with you,” I said. “Practice being a good little wife—”
“Teresa, my love, I’ve run out of juice for this conversation.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you later.”
“Chris, I need to get out of here.” He stopped walking and turned to me. I said, “And I wouldn’t mind a fresh cup of coffee.”
“Okay.” His eyes softened. A big intake of air and then he exhaled. “Baby doll, I want you at this party because your presence is my Valium. Even in high school, after you pulled away from me and I pretended to ignore you, even if you weren’t with me, I always knew where you were.”
“You stalked me?”
“Always.”
“What about when I was in Mumbai?”
“I kept tabs on you. Not me personally, but I hired people over there who were watching for me. That’s how I found out that Devek owed money.” He paused, then he said, “Are we still on for dinner?”
“Of course.” A weak smile. “And I still want that cup of coffee.”
“Then let’s go.”
As I walked to the door, he took my arm and held me back. I looked up and smiled again, but his face was unreadable.
He said, “I’m a hard case. Impenetrable. And I’m never going to change because I don’t want to change. I like my psychopathy. But it’s not easy for you. Thank you for putting up with me. Don’t think I don’t notice.”
“Just get me …” I stopped talking.
He dropped my arm. His voice was even. “I know, baby, but no more. Please?”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracked, but I held back tears. “Thank you. Let me practice opening the front door.”
“Go for it.”
I knelt on his office chair and found my balance. “Could you please get me a stepladder, Chris? You might not need it, but I do, and as of right now, there are two of us here.”
“I’ll get you a stepladder.”
“And while you’re at it, would you mind getting some colorful throw pillows and blankets? And something nice on the walls. I know you like to keep things simple, but I find looking at black and white day after day a bit depressing.”
“Hi, Ms. Robertson,” Decker said. “We’re looking for information on your former boyfriend, Brock Baer—”
A big groan. “That son of a bitch. What did he do now?”
“Uh, we’re not sure he did anything,” he said. “We’re trying to locate him—”
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know where that mofo is.”
“You know, he’s out on parole.”
“Yeah, I know. He came over to my house, when he was first sprung, asking for help. Can you imagine the nerve?”
“When was this?” Decker asked.
“When he was first released. About a year and some change ago. Asking me for help!”
“I take it you said no,” McAdams said.
“I said if he didn’t get his ass off my property, I’d call the police. Then he got loud—screaming and yelling and calling me names—as usual. I got out Sassy Sally and fired it in the air. I told him the next round of buckshot was calling his ass. He left.”
“And?”
“And that was it.”
“He didn’t return?”
“If he had returned, he’d be in a pine box.”
“Got it,” Decker said. “He posted some pretty awful things about you. Can I ask what that was all about?”
“What can I say? He’d get drunk and we got into it. Nothing new there. He slapped me around. Not new either. But then he fired a gun in my wall to show me he was serious. That was new. I talked him down. Finally, he left the apartment. I called the police, and when they took the bullet from the wall, they had a case to arrest the asshole. I think he got four years.”
“And he came to your house about a year ago?” McAdams asked.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Decker said, “And you have no idea where he might have gone?”
“Don’t know and don’t care.”
“Did he ever talk to you about his ex-wife?”
“He had more than one.”
“Pauline Corbett.”
“Ye-ah, he talked about her all the time. Mostly in the negative. Whenever we’d fight, it was always, ‘You’re just like Pauline. I’m gonna get that bitch.’ Yadda, yadda, yadda. He hated her. But that didn’t stop him from yakking on and on about her. He was obsessed with her. Is she okay?”
Decker said, “No, ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you that she’s dead—murdered.”
A long pause over the line. “The bastard finally did it.”
“You think that Brock murdered Pauline.”
“He talked about it all the time. Until he pointed the gun at me, I thought it was hot air. How’d she die?”
“Stabbed to death.”
“Not shot?”
“No.”
“Up close and personal,” Tanya said. “Poor woman.”
McAdams said, “Did you ever meet Pauline?”
“Not in person, no. But I could tell you what she looked like. He had several shoeboxes of photographs of her. Some were old, like from when they were married. Others were more recent. By recent I mean before he went to prison. But you could tell they were on the sly. Brock was stalking her, taking pictures without her knowing.”
“Yikes,” McAdams said.
“That’s Brock. Has to have something or someone to bitch about. When I found the shoeboxes underneath the bed, I asked him about all the pictures of Pauline. He told me that it was none of my damn business and hid the boxes somewhere else.”
Decker said, “You wouldn’t by any chance still have those photographs?”
“I do have them. I found them when I moved. They were hidden on a closet shelf. I threw away almost everything that belonged to him, but I kept the photos. Then when he showed up, I was gonna give them back to him. I was about to say something, but then he started getting loud. WTF. Why should I do that bastard any favors?”
“But you didn’t throw them out.”
“No, I still have them somewhere. I have to look.”
“Could you do that?” Decker asked. “And if possible, could you mail them to me?”
“Sure.”
“That would be great,” Decker said. “How about if I give you a FedEx or UPS number?”
“Sounds good.”
Decker gave her the digits. “When you have a tracking number, if you could email it to me, I’d be much obliged. I don’t want anything lost.”
“No problem,” Tanya said. “God, that asshole actually murdered someone?”
“We don’t know,” Decker said. “We’ve just started looking into Pauline’s death. Baer may be totally innocent.”
“The words Baer and innocent don’t go together,” she said. “If there’s trouble, Brock is involved.”
Decker said, “We’ll be in touch. And, Tanya, keep an eye out.”
“’Preciate the concern, but I got Sassy Sally,” Tanya said. “I’m ready for anything.”
SITTING AT HIS desk inside his suite, eyes on his computer, Chris called out to me, “You’ve got to look at the screen next to the code box.”
I was outside trying to sync my retinal scan with the machine. “I am looking at the screen.”
“It’s not registering.” He regarded my craning neck and smiled. “You’re way too short.” He got up and rolled his desk chair out the door. “Can you balance on this without falling on your ass?”
“Remains to be seen.”
“I’ll get you something to stand on later, but try this in the meantime.”
“You don’t have a stepladder?”
“Why the hell would I need a stepladder?” He helped me onto the seat. “Just kneel. You should be eye to eye with the screen.”
When he took his hand away from mine, I wobbled.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“Just stare into the screen and don’t move until I tell you to.”
He went back to his computer and I did as he instructed, always a good student. It took a minute.
He said, “Great. Now put your right thumb on the screen.”
I complied.
When he was done, he helped me off the chair and we went back inside the room. He pulled out three keys. “The pupil and thumb recognition will allow you to unlock the door once it gives you the green light. These are your copies. I know they work because I’ve tried them out. First, let’s see if you can go outside by yourself. Then we’ll see if you can get inside.”
Everything worked. But it was a strain. The door was enormously heavy to open and close. But I managed to do it and lock up without the alarm going off. After it was over, he handed me the keys. “Your partial freedom.”
“Partial?”
“We’ll have to program the entrance and downstairs elevator to get you up here. And then we’ll have to program you into the system if you want to get in and out of Gabe’s room to see your daughter.”
“That would be great. When can we do that?”
“Some other time. But I’ll do it. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” A pause. “Terry, I have beeps on my computer that trigger when someone is going in and out of the doors upstairs and using my private elevator. I also have cameras all over the place. But my eyes and ears can’t be everywhere at the same time.”
“I’ll let you know what I’m doing beforehand.”
“Please. I’m responsible for your safety. And Juleen’s safety. I have enough going on without having to chase you down.”
“I understand.” I gave his face a hard stare. “Who did this to me, Chris? Who hurt me and took my baby? Was it Devek?”
“I told you: no questions.”
“I have a right to know.”
“And you will know when the time’s right.”
“Is my son safe?” When he didn’t answer, I choked up. I said, “Is he even alive—”
“He’s alive.” When I started to say something, he put a finger to my lips. Tears were running down my face. He wiped them with his thumb and said, “I’m doing the best I can. But there are no guarantees. That’s all I can say right now. No more questions, okay?”
I nodded. “I think I need a change of scenery.”
“Probably. Let’s go out for dinner. Wait … I can’t tonight. Tomorrow?”
“Sure.” My second outing in less than a week. I was a veritable party girl. I wiped my tears with my dress. “Where?”
“I own a small Italian restaurant in the same strip mall as the dentist. It’s casual and it’s certainly not gourmet, but it’s passable. The locals seem to like it. So do my workers. I know you still can’t eat perfectly, but the minestrone is good and it’s vegetarian. Sound good?”
“Great.” Again, I dried my eyes.
He took me in his arms. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, baby doll. I truly am. I hate to see you suffering. And I know you’re suffering.”
The tears came back. “Thank you.”
He held me for a few moments in silence. “Terry, I need a favor from you.”
“Can it wait a few hours? I could use a little break.”
“It’s not sexual.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
“Every year around Labor Day, I throw a big bash for everyone who has been here in the past year: my guests, my clients, my workers, my employees … It’s usually around a hundred to a hundred-fifty people. I have a band and food and an open bar—we do it in the lounge, where I took you to meet Mike Badger. He comes every year, by the way.”
“Do you want me to help plan something?”
“No, Talia will take care of everything. She does it every year. She has it down to a science.” A pause. “I would like you to come to the party, okay?”
“If you want me there, of course I’ll come.”
“I do want you there. You’re my fiancée. You’re going to be my wife. It would reflect badly on me if you weren’t there.”
I paused and broke away from him. “What are you trying to tell me, Chris?”
“The way these things work, I have to be available to anyone who wants to talk or dance with me, including my workers. My parties are their time—when they can let their hair down with the boss. So, while I want you there—I need you to be there—I’ll also need my space.”
I took a few moments to answer. “Like the scene in the cafeteria?”
“Times a hundred.”
“So, what do I do? Sit in a corner by myself and smile?”
“More or less.”
I threw my arms out. “It’s fine, Chris. Do what you need to do. I’m the interloper here.”
“You’re not an interloper—”
“Your whore, then.”
“You are not my whore.” His expression darkened. “You trade places with any of my workers for one day, and you’ll find out exactly what it really means to be a whore. Any one of them would jump at the opportunity to be in your shoes. You were my wife, you will be my wife again, and, in my mind, you have always been my wife, regardless of who you’ve been with. You’re just doing what wives have done for their husbands over the centuries. So stop saying you’re my whore. It’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“And stop shining me on!”
“Don’t you dare get mad at me.” I tried to control my anger. “You have a business to run. I won’t get in your way. Besides, I’m used to standing on the sidelines while you party.”
He walked over to me and picked up my chin. “Terry, this is not high school—”
“It is, actually.” I freed my face from his hand. “Except we’re all adults now and I know what to expect from you, which is a lot of sitting in the corner by myself.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No?” I walked away and began to pace. “God, even in high school, I had a boyfriend, who, by the way, adored me. Maybe I should do that now, Chris. Get my own boyfriend. Maybe Mike Badger. He sure seemed to like me. And since you’re borrowing money from him, I betcha he’s doing fine in the bucks department.”
His voice got low and menacing. “Stop it.”
“Yeah, he is pretty ugly. I could do better—”
“Did you ever screw him?”
Confused, I turned to face him. “Are you kidding me?”
“Not Mike,” he said. “Daniel Reiss. Did you fuck him?”
He was still on my high school boyfriend. “How could you ask that?” I snapped. “You know I was a virgin when I came to you.”
“It could have been your period.”
“It could have been, but it wasn’t. Although maybe it would have been better if I had done it with Daniel. It certainly would have been better circumstances.”
“Cut it out, Terry.”
“This isn’t about me or anything I’ve done, Donatti, so stop deflecting the conversation to make you look like the victim, okay?”
“Then stop pushing my buttons and talking about other guys. You know how jealous I get.” He bit his lip. “Look, are you going to come? Yes or no?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you have a choice. I can make excuses. The workers would probably feel freer if you weren’t there. But it’s not what I want.”
It was times like this that I remembered precisely why I had an affair. Something to call my own. The pregnancy, however, had been unplanned—the one of two consequences from my second disastrous marriage that turned out well. With Devek, my anger had always been a continuous simmer. With Chris, it was and had always been a hot blue flame. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there and I’ll be all smiles.”
“You’re pissed.”
You better believe it, I thought. I held up the keys. “At least I have my partial freedom.” When he didn’t react, I shrugged. “Go have your fun, Chris.”
“It’s not fun, Terry, it’s work.”
That made me even madder. “Okay, then go have your fun work. Go screw whoever you want. I don’t give a damn what you do.”
“And you never did,” he told me. “That was part of the problem.”
“That’s utter horseshit! Stop feeling sorry for yourself because I bested you one time in the screwing department.”
He turned red in the face. “Okay. You got your revenge. You totally humiliated me. You totally trashed me. Good for you. I’m sure I deserved it. I certainly suffered because of it.”
“You don’t have a lock on suffering, you know.”
“You’re right. So maybe it’s time for both of us to move on.”
“I can’t move on with my child missing, Christopher! Get my son and then I’ll be happy to move on.”
He suddenly looked weary. His voice turned soft. “It’s going to take a while longer, baby doll. And like I said, there are no guarantees. I assure you I’m doing whatever I can.”
Suddenly a stupid party seemed trivial. Tears sprang up from nowhere. “Is he suffering?”
“No, he’s not suffering. He’s probably scared, but he’s okay.” He flipped his hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t an easy fix. Just be patient and trust me, okay?”
I wiped my eyes, wondering who had my son. And if Sanjay had been taken by horrible men because of Devek’s debts, why was he still alive? And then it dawned on me, idiot that I was. “You’re paying off Devek’s debts, aren’t you?” I waited for an answer. All I got was silence. “How much is it costing you?”
“None of your business.”
“I’ll pay you back, Christopher. I’ll pay you every penny no matter how long it takes.”
An eye roll was his response. He said, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Don’t bring it up. For both our sakes, okay?”
“Okay.” My eyes were still wet. “Thank you for all your help. I’ll come to your party and I’ll be a good sport. I promise.”
“Thank you.” He blew out air. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Where are you going?”
“To see my staff. The more contact I have with my employees, the harder they work. And while I’m in the cafeteria, I’ll put in the lunch order for your daughter. Do you want anything?”
“No, but I’ll come with you,” I said. “Practice being a good little wife—”
“Teresa, my love, I’ve run out of juice for this conversation.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you later.”
“Chris, I need to get out of here.” He stopped walking and turned to me. I said, “And I wouldn’t mind a fresh cup of coffee.”
“Okay.” His eyes softened. A big intake of air and then he exhaled. “Baby doll, I want you at this party because your presence is my Valium. Even in high school, after you pulled away from me and I pretended to ignore you, even if you weren’t with me, I always knew where you were.”
“You stalked me?”
“Always.”
“What about when I was in Mumbai?”
“I kept tabs on you. Not me personally, but I hired people over there who were watching for me. That’s how I found out that Devek owed money.” He paused, then he said, “Are we still on for dinner?”
“Of course.” A weak smile. “And I still want that cup of coffee.”
“Then let’s go.”
As I walked to the door, he took my arm and held me back. I looked up and smiled again, but his face was unreadable.
He said, “I’m a hard case. Impenetrable. And I’m never going to change because I don’t want to change. I like my psychopathy. But it’s not easy for you. Thank you for putting up with me. Don’t think I don’t notice.”
“Just get me …” I stopped talking.
He dropped my arm. His voice was even. “I know, baby, but no more. Please?”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracked, but I held back tears. “Thank you. Let me practice opening the front door.”
“Go for it.”
I knelt on his office chair and found my balance. “Could you please get me a stepladder, Chris? You might not need it, but I do, and as of right now, there are two of us here.”
“I’ll get you a stepladder.”
“And while you’re at it, would you mind getting some colorful throw pillows and blankets? And something nice on the walls. I know you like to keep things simple, but I find looking at black and white day after day a bit depressing.”
