Frames Per Second (18 page)

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Authors: Bill Eidson

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense

BOOK: Frames Per Second
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Lainnie was embarrassed. She blinked for a moment, teetering between being upset and seeing the humor in it. Ben and Andi let her see their smiles behind their disapproval. Kurt remained stern. Lainnie came down on the side of giggling.

“Sorry,” she said. She finished her story with a lot of “and then …” transitions, and Ben settled back, enjoying the rhythm as much as the content of his daughter’s stories.

“Now how about you?” he asked Jake.

His son shrugged. “Nothing. Finished up school this week, now I’m off.”

“What have you got going this summer?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He looked down, then shrugged again, and said, his voice barely audible, “Maybe you need an assistant.”

Kurt looked at him sharply, and Andi turned to Ben. Their eyes conveyed their concern.

“There’s nothing I’d love more,” Ben said.

Jake stared at his plate stonily. “But I can’t.”

“It’s just not the right time,” Ben said. “I’m all over the place … and … well, it’s just not something we can do right now, not until this business is settled.”

“Why?” Jake asked. “Are you still in trouble with whoever hurt Mister Pete?”

Lainnie sat up, her eyes round. “Was the fire about that? Did someone
set
the fire on purpose?”

Kurt put his hand on Jake’s shoulder and looked at Lainnie. “Listen, kids, none of us knows exactly what’s going on. But the police and your dad and I are trying to find out. But for now, this is a birthday party, and let’s just concentrate on things like presents and cake and stuff like that.’’

“Great idea,” Ben said.

“I think the part about presents was a particularly good one,” Andi said. “How about we jump ahead of the cake? You go first, Ben.”

“Sure.” He handed Jake his gift.

Jake took it slowly, still not meeting his eyes. But once he started unwrapping the package, his interest quickened. “Cool!” he said. “A digital camera.”

“Which is?” Andi asked.

“I can take the shot and it captures the image digitally, not on film.” Jake said. “I can put it directly into the computer, send it onto the net, do whatever I want with it.” He turned to Ben directly, his eyes questioning. “I thought you hated these things. Thought you said it was wrong to manipulate images, that people wouldn’t be able to trust their eyes after a while, or trust pictures.”

“Ah, sometimes I get on a soap box. But who knows? I figured you and I could do some shooting together and after you’ve done your magic in the computer we can compare results. See if you can pull me kicking and screaming into the digital age.”

“You won’t have a chance! Hey, maybe we could go to the cabin. We can do sunsets. You’ll be stuck with whatever happens that day, but I’ll be able to make the sky any color I want. No more missed shots.”

“Stuck with whatever happens …” Ben growled. “Is that what you kids call reality these days?”

“Reality bites,” Lainnie said, pealing with laughter even though all three parents cast a stern eye to her once again.

Jake laughed along with her, his face flushed.

Ben was delighted to see some ego surface in Jake.

“Speaking of creating your own world …” Kurt said, pulling a present from under the table.

“I’m as curious as you,” Andi said to Jake. “Kurt insisted upon getting your gift from us this year.”

Jake hesitated, looking from the camera, to his father, to Kurt. Clearly torn between conflicting loyalties and his interest in the suitcase-sized present Kurt was holding out.

“Go ahead,” Ben said. “Open it.”

Jake tore into the present.

When the paper was halfway off, he stopped, apparently stunned.
“Whoa.”

He ripped off the rest of the paper to reveal a cardboard box that was indeed shaped like a suitcase, right down to the carrying handle on the top. On the side of the box was a picture of a notebook computer.

“Top of the line,” Kurt said, with satisfaction. “Same one I’ve got. And I had them upgrade it to the maximum RAM and storage.” He picked up the digital camera. “Take it along on vacation along with this thing here, and you’ll be able to make an electronic postcard and send it to all your friends via the net. Fix those sunsets right after you take the shot.”

“This is incredible.” Jake’s eyes were shining.

Ben felt a touch breathless, and hated to feel it. Hated the smallness of it in himself, hated to think he was competing on this level. But there it was. He knew the computer truly was top of the line, easily three or four times as much as the camera. At least several thousand dollars.

“Kurt,” Andi said, her hand to her neck, her smile now uncertain. “How much …”

She stopped herself.

The table went silent.

Then Jake said, “Are you saying I can’t keep it?”

“It’s just that we’re saving for the new house,” Andi said. “I just had no idea …”

“We don’t have to go through this now.” Kurt glanced at Ben. “Jake deserves only the best.”

The table went silent again.

Andi looked at the table, and then settled back in her chair.

It was Lainnie who put it into words. She said to the two men solemnly, “Are you two fighting?”

Jake said, “Sssh.”

Andi said, “Of course not, honey.”

Lainnie said, “They are so. Who won?”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 20

 

 

ON THE ELEVATOR ON THE WAY DOWN FROM THE RESTAURANT, Lainnie said, “I want Daddy to put me to bed.”

This into the stony silence of the elevator. Andi was looking straight ahead, as were the others.

Ben put his hand on Lainnie’s head.

“You’re too old for that,” Jake said.

“I don’t care,” she said.

She took Ben’s hand and squeezed it hard. “I want you to come home and just do that tonight. Can’t you?”

God, not those words again, Ben thought.
I’d love to, honey … but …

“You can if you like,” Andi said.

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” Kurt said. “Given Ben’s situation.”

“I do,” she said. “Given that ridiculous situation we just went through in the restaurant.” Two bright spots formed on Andi’s cheeks, and Ben could feel the anger emanating off of her. “Both of you need to make room for the other.”

Kurt’s face froze but he didn’t argue.

“Can you?” Lainnie said, looking up at Ben. He thought of Patrick Clooney’s assurance, cold though it was.
“If I got a complaint with you, I’ll take it up directly with you. Not your children.”

He smiled at her. “I’d love to, honey.”

 

Ben stayed with her until she fell asleep.

She had talked for a long time, too excited by having him there to fall asleep right away. It was an indulgence for them both; he knew she would probably be upset tomorrow night when he wasn’t there.

Hell, so would he.

He smoothed her hair as her breathing evened out. Her hair was sandy like his and his father’s. It was easy for Ben to see himself in her. She clutched her fist near her face, reminiscent of the days when she sucked her thumb. They’d had a hell of a time breaking her of the habit. Her room showed her to be teetering between childhood and her teenage years: rock posters—mostly of girl bands—alongside childish illustrations of her own. Dolls leaning up against a stack of CDs.

He ached dully inside, seeing how fast she was growing; seeing how much he was missing.

He kissed her on the cheek and left the room.

 

The light was on under Jake’s door. Ben knocked and Jake said, quietly, “Come in.”

Jake looked up briefly, and then turned back to his new computer. “I just backed up the software.” He gestured to his owner’s manual. “They really want you to do that.”

Ben saw the digital camera sitting on the dresser still in its package. Right beside the Buck knife Ben had given Jake the year before. Jake wanted the knife for when the two of them went camping. Something that Ben had somehow never found the time to do with Jake in the past year.

“I need to get this set up first,” Jake said, apologetically. “Then I can store the images I get with the camera.”

“It’s all right, Jake, it really is.” Ben sat on the edge of the bed. “Listen, I’m sorry it got weird at dinner. But you don’t need to apologize to me. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake went back to the keyboard, apparently methodically reviewing each of the installed programs. His fingers flew lightly over the board, making windows open and close on the screen. “You say that.”

He didn’t look at Ben. But when he continued, his voice was cool and remote, as if his concentration were truly upon the computer. Ben was certain it wasn’t. Jake said, “But what you really mean is you wish I was like you. I’m not. I like doing this, using computers. Kurt knows that, and that’s what he got me. He and Mom want me to be me, but you don’t.”

Ben said, “Since when?”

“Since always.”

Ben was silent for a moment. Wondering if it was true. He thought of his own father talking with him in the Plymouth. Ben said, “OK, let’s talk about that.”

Jake shook his head. “Forget it.”

Ben leaned forward. “Look, Jake. The divorce was between me and your mother, not you and Lainnie.”

“Yeah … bullshit.” Jake’s face turned red as he wheeled away from the computer and faced Ben. “Bullshit. You divorced us, too.”

Your mother divorced me,
Ben thought. But he didn’t say it. Wasn’t kosher to point fingers.

Jake said, “You moved out, right? Now you go put Lainnie to bed, she’s gonna be crying most of the day tomorrow and I’ll be telling her it’s OK, but it’s not.”

“Jake …” Ben reached out but his son dropped his shoulder.

“Kurt would never do this to us,” Jake yelled.

“Ah, Jake.” Ben waited for him. Feeling bad, but wanting all of it out in the open. Jake had been a soldier about the divorce for far too long. Ben said, “What else?”

Jake’s lower lip trembled.

“Come on,” Ben said, gently. “Tell me.”

At that point, the door swung open.

Kurt.

“I told you this was a mistake.” He put himself between the two of them.

“Kurt, not now,” Ben said.

“Let’s go. You’re upsetting our whole household.”

Ben’s temper flared but he kept his voice steady. “Jake and I need to finish this conversation in private. We’ll keep it down.” Ben remained seated on the bed.

Jake turned away, wiping his cheek. “Just forget it.”

“I won’t. Tell me what you need to tell me.”

Kurt grabbed Ben’s arm and pulled. “C’mon.”

It all came together. Peter’s death. The man waiting in Ben’s apartment. Johansen spitting in his face.

Kurt trying to control every goddamn element of Ben’s life. Ben stood up and yanked his arm away. “Let go of me.”

Kurt grabbed at Ben’s arm again. “We don’t want you here.”

Ben didn’t hit Kurt, but he did push him. Just trying to clear him away, get him out of his face. Ben would think about that later. He did push the man in his own home.

And then Kurt hit him. It was a looping, ineffective punch. Something that probably surprised Kurt as much as it did Ben.

But the blow jarred Ben and before he knew it, he responded with his fists. Two fast hooks to Kurt’s stomach, one to his mouth.

Kurt’s legs buckled. He grabbed at the open door for balance, but it moved and he fell against the doorjamb and hit his head. He slid down onto his butt.

“Oh, Jesus,” Ben said.

Jake rushed over to help his stepfather.

Blood streaked down Kurt’s face from his forehead.

“I’m sorry.” Ben bent down to help him.

“My God!” Andi stood in the doorway in her nightgown, her hand to her mouth. “What’s the matter with you?” She pushed Ben’s hands away.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said, again. He was genuinely stunned.

Lainnie was in the hallway, her eyes round.

Jake was close to tears and breathing hard to regain control.

“Get out,” Andi said, her voice cold and remote from Ben in a way that he had never heard through fifteen years of marriage and a divorce. “Just get the hell out of our house.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 21

 

 

BEN LAY IN BED, THE DIGITAL CLOCK SLOWLY CHANGING NUMBERS: two-fifty, three-twenty, four-eighteen. Five-ten was the last one he saw before the alarm sounded at six-thirty and he awoke to grainy eyes and the weight of depression pressing down onto his chest.
 

Replaying the whole God-awful mess in his head.
 

Jesus.

He got up and stood in the shower, his body swaying with exhaustion. He shaved quickly, looking in the mirror at the dark thumbprints underneath his red-rimmed eyes.

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