Ghost Light (13 page)

The speaker rattled with a long, loud kissing sound that ended with a rising smack.

“I love you!”

“Yeah, and I love you, too, baby,” Alex said.

He took the phone bill from his pocket and, grabbing a pen from the counter, scrawled on the back of the envelope: “Buzzy Bee—Chicago Hilton—rm 1237—back next Friday, 1:00.”

He had no idea what—if anything—he could do with this new information, but it was
something
, and he was happy as hell to have it just in case something occurred to him later. At the very least, if there was ever a custody hearing, he could confront Harry with this evidence that he’d been having an affair. That would certainly blow Cindy’s snug little world right out of the water. She deserved it, the little bitch!

Before leaving the house, Alex wanted to do something else, like write a message on Harry’s appointment calendar or erase the phone messages or something else just to toy with Harry’s mind, but he finally decided against it. Instead, he carefully put the pen back on the counter right where he had found it, straightened up the kitchen, and then left by the back door, checking to make sure he had left no tracks on the floor before he locked the door shut behind him.

The sun was starting to set as he crossed the lawn to the Street and headed around the corner to where he had parked his car. He wasn’t worried. He had no idea what he was going to do next, but he knew if he took his time he’d think of
something
.

Trapped Wasp

I’
m probably making a very big mistake here!

The thought echoed inside Cindy’s mind as she followed the heavy-set, sweating man up the creaking flight of steps to the second floor landing. The air in the apartment building was hot and dry, like the inside of an oven.

Krissy and Billy were only a step or two behind her. Both of them remained silent, except for Krissy’s initial comment upon entering the building that she didn’t like the “ucky” smell. Cindy wasn’t sure if the smell was from the hall or the man, but she shushed the little girl with a wave of her hand. She had wanted the kids to wait in the car, but Billy had insisted that, since they might be living here, too, they had a right to check it out with her.

She couldn’t very well argue the point.

The apartment building was on Coyne Street, off Forest Avenue in downtown Portland. After days of driving around the city, Cindy had a pretty good idea where it was in relation to everything else. The adjacent houses looked neat and well-cared for, and there was a church right across the street, which she took as indications that the neighborhood might be at least half-decent. After spending three days running down newspaper ads for furnished apartments to rent, she was so tired and frustrated, she thought at this point she’d settle for just about
anything
.

This was the slight change in plans she had mentioned to Harry a few days before in her phone message to him.

She still hadn’t had a chance to talk it over with him personally, but during the drive east, along with everything else she’d had to think about, she had decided not to go directly to his uncle’s cottage on Little Sebago Lake. She remembered the camp from her one previous Visit to Maine years ago, and she realized—finally—-hat one thing that had been bothering her throughout the trip was that she didn’t want to live in such an isolated situation.

Not with two kids.

They were used to living in Omaha which, although it was no New York City, was still a busy place. She and the kids were going to experience enough stresses, strains, and emotional upsets trying to live together like a real family, so why put any more strain on anyone? She had decided that it would be much better to settle in a town or city where the kids could eventually make friends and go to school and do all the normal things kids did. Besides, if the police and FBI were looking for her, and she was trying to “disappear,” she could blend in a lot better in a city… even one as small as Portland, Maine. If she hadn’t been so timid about being on her own, she might have even tried Boston or New York. She had no doubt that folks living in the small towns around the lake would take notice of her right away and perhaps start asking embarrassing questions. Living in the city, they could maintain their anonymity, but she would still be close to some kind of haven—if she needed it. And anyway, they probably wouldn’t even be staying in Maine once Harry sold the business and joined her. More than anything else right now, what she wanted for Billy and Krissy was as close to a normal life as she could provide. That wasn’t going to be easy, considering everything they had been through so far!

The man paused outside the door with a tarnished brass number “3” nailed to it. The yellowing paint was flaking off the door in potato chip-sized pieces. Only one nail remained, so the number hung at a cockeyed angle, revealing a ghost of the number in bone white, where the door hadn’t been repainted.

The man’s baggy pants flapped like a flag in a stiff breeze as he fished around in his pockets for his key ring.

“Ahh—got it,” he said triumphantly, after sorting through the keys and producing the one he wanted. He wiped the sweat from his face on his forearm, then slid the key into the lock. The tumblers turned with a harsh grinding sound, and the door latch popped. Cindy almost laughed aloud when she reminded herself to get some graphite to loosen up the lock. That’s what comes from living with someone who runs a hardware store. Her smile vanished, though, the instant the door swung open, and the strong smell of close, stale air and… and something else wafted over Cindy. Sucking in her breath, she followed the man into the apartment. When she glanced back at the kids, she saw that Krissy was pinching her nose shut, but at least she hadn’t said anything.

The living room walls were covered with dingy, red wallpaper that had a faded floral design. It was bubbled and peeling near the ceiling, which showed evidence of some serious water damage. The hardwood floor creaked underfoot and was worn to a sickly yellow hue of aged varnish. The chipped and gouged windowsills were littered with dead flies and spider webs. Cindy had to stop herself from opening a few windows just to air out the place.

“Well, as you can see, you got steam heat—works just fine in the winter,” the man said, waving one hand to indicate the living room. “Utilities are separate from the rent. ’Course, there’s no air conditioning. It’s usually not hot like this to warrant it. The windows-well, most of ’em have screens, so you can catch a breeze off the ocean most of the time.”

The ocean
, Cindy thought, shaking her head in amazement.
After living all her life in the mid-west, it seemed so strange to realize that the Atlantic Ocean was so close!

As they moved slowly through the apartment, the man continued to rattle on about it. He sounded bored, like this was a litany he had repeated a hundred times before. Cindy took in less than half of what he said as she followed along behind him with the kids in tow. She could clearly see that the place had its problems, but the only clear thought in her mind was—
Will we be safe here?

“As you saw, the couch ’n easy chair, coffee table and end tables in the living room all come with the place. Not in the best of condition, but—hey, they’ll do. Couple of lamps. Probably no light bulbs in ’em. Down the hallway, here, there’s one bedroom on the left and two on the right. All of ’em have single beds and mattresses.”

Cindy poked her head into the first room and glanced around.

“They’re a little small,” the man said, “but there’s plenty of bureaus and closet space. ’Course, you can store stuff in the attic, too, but I don’t guarantee its safety. There’s a table ’n four chairs in the kitchen there. Refrigerator and dishwasher. Both of ’em work.”

As if he has to point that out
, Cindy thought.

“And there’s a washer ’n dryer ’round back in the hallway. Bathroom’s down there on the left. Just a stand-up shower, though, cause—well, when you look in there, you’ll see where we had a bit of a problem with the bathtub leaking.”

Cindy nodded as though she had been listening to everything he was saying, but she had been giving the apartment a quick once-over, evaluating it for herself. It wasn’t anything close to what she had been expecting, considering the rent this man was asking for it. What was his name? She’d talked to so many people over the past few days, she couldn’t even remember.

I can’t believe the price he’s asking
, she thought, but based on everything else they had seen over the past few days, this almost seemed like a bargain.

Almost.

“ ‘Course, you’re within walking distance of the grocery store, which is a big benefit. ’N the kids’ll be able to walk to school right up through high school. Now I don’t expect you to make up your mind right here on the spot, but I have to tell yah—there’s a young married couple that’s interested in the place who said they’d be back to me by four o’clock this afternoon, so if you think you might want it…”He let his voice trail away as he looked expectantly at Cindy. “Tell you what, I’ll wait outside so you can a little look around on your own. Take your time, ’n if you have any more questions, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Cindy opened her mouth, about to ask if there was a cockroach or mouse problem, but she let it pass. They watched the man walk back down the hallway and out the door, then listened as the heavy tread of his feet descended the stairs.

“Well…? What do you think?” she asked, turning to Billy and Krissy.

Krissy just stood there, a look of perplexity on her face. At least she was no longer holding her nose, Cindy thought. Billy, on the other hand, had spent the entire time moving quickly from room to room, sticking his head into every closet and banging open the bureaus and cupboards. He regarded Cindy with an expression of stern seriousness.

“Well, I think of everything we’ve seen, it’s probably the best,” he said in a low voice. “Still… it isn’t very much.”

“No, it isn’t,” Cindy said. “But we aren’t talking about staying here forever, either. Krissy—?”

“I dunno” Krissy said, shaking her head so her blond hair swished at her shoulders. “I just don’t like the smell. It reminds me of something.”

Cindy smiled, happy that the little girl would offer her opinion on
anything
.

“Then again,” Billy went on, “it
would
be nice to have
someplace
to settle after staying in all those motel rooms.”

“I know what you mean, partner,” Cindy said, letting her smile widen as she turned back to him. She was trembling inside and felt so knocked off-balance herself, considering that they had been reduced to actually considering a place like this, that all she wanted to do was scoop them both up into her arms and cry.

“Well, I don’t know if this ‘other couple’ he mentioned is for real or not, but—”She shook her head and wiped the sweaty hair away from her forehead. “I think we’ve seen pretty much everything else in Portland. Do you agree?”

Billy cocked one eyebrow and nodded, a slight tick that instantly reminded Cindy of her dead sister. When she turned to Krissy to ask what she thought, she. gasped with surprise. Krissy, who had been there just a second before, was gone.

“Krissy?” Cindy said in a high, tight voice;

A cold, tingling sensation flashed up her backbone. She wasn’t able to keep the razor-edge of panic out of her voice as she looked up and down the corridor and shouted again.

“
Krissy!
”

2

“T
hank you for calling MCI. This is Ms. Costello. How may I help you?”

“Hello,” Alex said into the telephone.

He took a deep breath and wedged the receiver tightly against his ear with his shoulder. Staring blankly at some middle distance, he continued to doodle on the first page of Harry’s phone bill. While he was dialing, he had drawn a distorted woman’s face that didn’t look quite human and was now drawing several arrows through it.

“Ahh, who would I speak to about a question regarding my most recent long distance phone bill?”

“Just a moment, please, and I’ll connect you with the billing department.”

Before he could mumble his thanks, a series of clicks sounded in his ear, and then the phone began to ring in his ear again. On the third ring, someone picked it up and said, “MCI Billing department. Mrs. Clark speaking. How may I help you?”

“Yes, this is—uh, Harold Toland calling,” Alex said. He considered disguising his voice but decided he didn’t need to. “My most recent bill has quite a few long distance calls from several states, and I have a—well, it’s a rather unusual question. You see, my—uh, my wife is traveling east, and she’s been calling me just about every day. To check in, you see. Well, some of the calls have already shown up on the bill I just got last week, but you see, her last call was several days ago, now, and she said she was going to stay where she was for a few days but I—well, she gave me the number she was calling from, but I lost it. I was wondering if you had—you know, in your computer or whatever, some kind of record of the calls that will eventually be showing up on my bill.”

“Well, that all depends on the carrier she used.”

“Oh, we’ve used your company for years. I can give you the account number if that will help.”

“How recent was this call?” Mrs. Clark asked.

“Oh, just a few days ago—the end of last week. Thursday, I think.”

“Was it a collect call?”

“No, she dialed direct and charged all of them to my—I mean to our account. I don’t know for sure, but I’m fairly certain she used our phone credit card.”

“Well then, Mr.—”

“Toland.”

“Mr. Toland, if you give me your account number, I can run a billing check on those calls for you. I can’t guarantee anything until the next bill is due, but if the information’s in our computer, I’ll notify you within the next three business days.”

“Oh, sure—yeah, that’d be terrific,” Alex said. He let out his breath, unable to believe his good luck. This was almost too easy. “I feel like such an idiot, you know, losing the number like that. Oh—by the way, will you be notifying me by telephone or by mail.”

“We’ll send a printout report to your home address. Mind you, this is not your monthly bill, just a—”

No, that won’t do
, Alex thought, and before he could stop himself, the words came out, cutting off Mrs. Clark. “No, that won’t do!”

“Well, that’s the normal procedure, Mr. Toland,” Mrs. Clark said. There was a harsh authoritarian tone in her voice that made her sound like a scolding school teacher.