The Widow's Walk (29 page)

Chapter 40

Liz stared out the window at the inn silhouetted through the trees. “As much as I’d like to forget about everything and stay here, I think it’s time to call Marianne Hartley and start closing up the inn, returning the deposits for this summer, packing.”

Mike encircled her in his arms. “We can have dinner with Mae and Kevin and figure out what comes next.”

Should he tell her to forget all his demands, that as soon as he got his way he didn’t want it anymore? No. Whether the ghosts were hiding somewhere else, or were gone, remained to be seen. The peace was saccharine, contrived. Once the emotion waned, there would just be a lot of hard work to do, and staying holed up here wasn’t getting it done.

He got their coats, and they held hands on the walk back. Mud season had arrived with the Ides of March. The ground was spongy, soggy. Warm sunshine offered a spark of spring, but the air was brisk. Gusts blew off the bay.

The odor of damp wood from the kitchen stove drifted out of the chimney on wisps of smoke. Mae and Kevin weren’t alone with Eddie.

Sandra munched a cookie and sipped tea. “Well, hello. Welcome home.”

Mike expected to see fury painted on Liz’s face.

Instead, her eyes widened; her mouth fell open in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Bethea Vauxhaul’s ghost the day I came into the shop?”

Sandra stood. “You of all people should understand that forcing people to recognize a past life before they’re ready is traumatic. Neither you or Mike were ready to face this.”

Liz sank into a chair. “It’s like a blindfold was just pulled off my eyes.”

Mike welcomed clearing up the issues surrounding his day with Sandra in the master bedroom. “I only realized it the day before you left. We had a lot more serious things to deal with.”

“Kevin and I realized it when Sandra came over to help us find you.” Skepticism oozed from Mae’s voice. Clearly, what ever lingered of Katherine’s hurt hadn’t forgiven Bethea, though Mae had taken one step closer to resolution by allowing her to sit in the kitchen for a kaffeklatsch.

“I didn’t realize anything, but then again, none of this makes sense to me.” Kevin swigged his tea.

“How did you know where I went, Sandra?” Liz asked.

“Elisabeth was always obsessed with finding Edward, talking to him one last time. My scrying mirror showed me the rest.” Sandra knelt in front of Liz’s chair and took her hands. “Someday soon, I hope you’ll be able to tell Bethea why Elisabeth didn’t reach out for help. That’s the last remaining obstacle to my recovery. But for now, I’m just happy to know you’re home, and you’re safe. I don’t think I could take losing you a second time.”

Mae rolled her eyes. “It was a group effort that ended well.”

“Not exactly.” Liz lowered her eyes. “It’s come down to selling the house. I can’t afford to run the Barrett in anymore.”

“That’s so sad. So synchronous. The same thing that happened to Elisabeth. But she found the solution by marrying Jared.” Sandra looked like she was in pain.

“Yes, it is.” A trace of Elisabeth’s indignation escaped. “But this is not 1876. And all the money I thought I had is gone, stolen.”

“Isn’t there any other way?” Sandra asked.

Mike’s hope that the ghosts were gone faded. Jared was agitating like an overloaded washing machine. “Not unless you can conjure a million bucks.” Even if he gave in, the financial reality had to be faced.

“Hmm, let me think about that. Thanks for the tea and cookies.” Sandra tossed a cape around her shoulders and sashayed out.

Mike would have laughed if things weren’t so serious. “She’s quite a character, isn’t she?”

Mae wagged her head. “Ridiculous if you ask me. I didn’t want to say anything until you had a chance to get settled. Marianne Hartley called. Liz, you need to be in court on Friday morning.”

That’s Eddie’s birthday. “Welcome home, indeed.” Liz walked out.

Jared didn’t need to goad him this time. Mike went after her. Another brick tumbled from the wall of reality and landed with a thud.

Liz put on her work clothes, put her hair up, put on makeup. She needed to look put together, even though she was falling apart.

“Can you help me with the tie?” The last time Mike had worn the suit was their wedding day. He’d needed her help then, too.

“Sure.” She knotted it and threaded the end into his shirt. “You need a tie tack. I have some of Gerry’s somewhere.”

“No one is going to be looking at me.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Jeez, Liz I’m so sorry about the timing. I remember this time last year . . .”

“It was just beginning. We were all cuddled together in the Inn. Looking forward to our future.” She stared at Eddie’s porta crib in the corner.
Stay focused on the future. Soon he’ll have his own room.

“Are you ready?” Mike took her hand.

“Yeah.”

They went out to her car, now parked in a driveway she was trying to imagine as hers.

“I’ll drive.” Mike opened the passenger door.

“Okay.” She slammed it, leaned back, and closed her eyes. Organizing things all day at the inn, returning to Mike’s house–no, their house–every night, distracted Liz from the tidal wave of revelations and realizations. It had been easy to forget the trouble with Bill Jeffers, but obviously he wasn’t going away without a fight. Today was only the beginning of another round.

The hard decisions: what to do with the horses; where Mae and Kevin would live; what they would do for a living; would have to be faced when the time came. Soon. Soon it would be over. They’d be home for the little cake Mae was baking right now. A year from now her life would be different, all this would be behind her.

“Honey.” Mike touched her arm. “Where is the best place to park?

Had she fallen asleep? They’d gotten to Boston too fast.

“Faneuil Hall. It’s a short walk from there.”

The lot was surprisingly full, so they parked on the roof. It had snowed last year on the day Eddie was born, but today early spring sunlight glittered like diamonds off the high-rise windows. A warm breeze blew through the concrete canyons.

Marianne was waiting just past the security checkpoint. “Good to see you both.” She shook their hands. “I hope you had a good vacation. Let’s go over the plan.”

They walked into the empty courtroom. “You’ll sit at this table with me, Liz. After being sworn, the judge will ask you to approach the bench, pose a few questions, which you will answer, truthfully, but don’t give a lot of details. The judge has already read your transcript, but has reserved the decision on whether to admit it as evidence. Jeffers alleges it was obtained without his consent.

“I’ll invite you to make a statement about what happened and then conclude, asking the charges be dropped. That’s it. He’ll make a determination whether Bill’s allegations warrant any further action. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Liz swallowed hard, nodded. She’d never get used to this.

Mike put his arm around her. “Just stay calm. He isn’t going to win.”

Jay walked in and sat on the other side of the courtroom.

“What is he doing here?” Liz couldn’t look at her son.

“Pretend he’s not.” Mike sat behind the railing next to the table.

Marianne took her seat and patted Liz’s arm. Bill, cleaned up, dressed up, and another attorney filed and took their seats. Liz stared straight ahead, wishing she’d gone to the bathroom.

High heels clacked. Marti sashayed in, as always dressed to impress, her blonde hair too perfect to be natural and, at nearly fifty, not looking a day over forty. She took a seat directly behind Bill, sat back, crossed her legs, and smirked.

He looked over his shoulder, mystified. Marti stared him down, winked, and waved to Liz.

Liz tried not to laugh. Her friend always raised the tension six notches wherever she went, but fortunately she was exerting her disruptive influence against the opposition.

“What is Marti doing here?” Mike leaned over the rail.

“She wanted to come for moral support. And I might call her as a witness, if need be.” Marianne kept her focus on the legal pad in front of her.

The court reporter unpacked her typewriter.

The officer announced the judge. “The Honorable Burton Katz, presiding in the matter of Jeffers versus Keeny. Please rise.”

They all stood while the elderly gentlemen hobbled to the bench and settled himself.

“Be seated. Counselors, please identify yourself.”

“James Pearson, Esq. on behalf of the plaintiff, William Jeffers, Esq.”

“Marianne Hartley, Esq. on behalf of the defendant, Elisabeth Levine Keeny.”

“Very well. Mr. Jeffers alleges that Mrs. Keeny entered his apartment building on March 10, 2011 stalking and harassing him about money she alleges he stole from her. He further alleges that Mrs. Keeny threatened him.” He paused for a breath, exhaled, which could have been age or skepticism.

“I am in possession of an audio transcript Mrs. Keeny made of the conversation. The formal statement by Ms. Hartley, submitted on her behalf, claims the doorman announced her arrival, Mr. Jeffers agreed to see her, that she never entered his apartment, and left a short time later.

“I have a deposition by Mr. Barton Jones, said doorman, which states Mrs. Keeny misidentified herself as Mrs. Elizabeth Levine, which is not her current surname. At this time do you have anything to add Mr. Pearson?”

Pearson stood and buttoned his suit jacket over his middle. “Mr. Jay Levine, Mrs. Keeny’s son, has a statement of fact which impacts upon this matter.”

“Mr. Jay Levine please approach the bench.”

Jay strode up the center aisle, looking at neither his mother nor his attorney.

Liz clutched her abdomen. Her son’s betrayals hurt worse than anything. 

Marianne turned to her. “He has nothing to do with this. I guess Bill is desperate.” The court officer barked. “Please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.” Jay glanced at Bill.

The judge leaned over the bench. “All right, Mr. Levine. What do you have to add?’

Jay turned sideways so he could see both the judge and the tables.

Bill smirked, as usual. Liz wanted to throw up, as usual.

Jay looked so much like his father, it could have been Gerry standing there. “I’m here to ask that this matter be dismissed. Mr. Jeffers was my attorney. He took full advantage of my naiveté. He convinced me to pursue legal action against my mother when she removed custody of my father’s estate from him because of alleged ethical improprieties. I chose to place my faith in Mr. Jeffers, allowing him time and opportunity to misappropriate partnership income due her from my father’s estate.”

Liz’s gasp was drowned out by Pearson’s infuriated tirade.

“Objection, your honor. Other . . . other legal proceedings against Mr. Jeffers have no bearing on this case and are not admissible.” Pearson recovered his composure.

“Sustained, but Mr. Pearson, this is your witness. Mr. Levine, why are you bringing this to bear in this matter at this time? What does this have to do with your mother allegedly threatening Mr. Jeffers?”

“He used me to steal her money. She went to confront him. He was so drunk when he called to tell me, I could barely figure out what he was saying. Mr. Jeffers told me he intended to see my mother thrown in jail. Take a look at her, your honor. What could she possibly do to Mr. Jeffers while holding my baby brother in her arms? He’s a miserable creep who has no regard for anyone except himself.”

“Objection, your honor!”

“Overruled, Mr. Pearson. You asked that Mr. Levine make a statement, which is what he has done. Mr. Levine. I can appreciate you want to make some amends, but this case has nothing to do with any other pending actions. I’m sure your day in court, as well as your mother’s, will come. My mission is to address the matter of whether your mother threatened Mr. Jeffers.”

He turned to the court reporter. “All references to any other pending legal proceedings are to be stricken from the record. Mr. Levine’s statement about Mr. Jeffer’s motivations, his state the night of the incident, and his mother’s demeanor and intent may remain. You may be seated, Mr. Levine.”

Liz heart pounded in time with Jay’s footsteps as he walked back to his seat.

He looked at her and mouthed, “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

“Unbelievable.” Marianne whispered.

Mike leaned over the rail. “Is this good or bad?”

Marti applauded. “Well said, Jay.” She gave Liz a thumbs up, sat back, re-crossed her legs.

“Order in the court.” The judge banged his gavel.

“Any further statements, Mr. Pearson?”

“No, your honor.” Pearson alternated between Jay and Marti with looks meant to kill.

Emboldened, Liz stared at Bill until he turned away. He wasn’t smiling this time. Neither was Pearson.

“Ms. Hartley?”

“Mrs. Keeny would like to make a statement.”

“Very well, Mrs. Keeny, please come forward.”

“Go for it, baby.” Mike tapped her shoulder

“Take it easy, Liz Just like we discussed.” Marianne patted her hand.

Liz’s knees wobbled as she walked. Every eye in the room bored into her back, but there were more friendly than unfriendly ones. She put her hand on the bench to steady herself and turned to the side, just as her son had done.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Keeny?” The judge leaned over and touched her arm.

“Yes, your honor.”

The court officer’s demeanor softened as well. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”