Kevin O'Brien Bundle (17 page)

Read Kevin O'Brien Bundle Online

Authors: Kevin O'Brien

BOOK: Kevin O'Brien Bundle
10.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Three hours and fifteen stitches later, Molly was back home, sitting at the breakfast table with a bag of Birds Eye frozen peas on her bandaged arm. And she was lying to her parents about what had happened. A burnt, dried-up Lou Malnati’s pizza sat on the rack inside her mother’s oven. Charlie had retreated to his room, claiming he didn’t feel well.
Molly wasn’t sure if her mom and dad really believed that she’d accidentally cut herself while fooling around with the pizza-slicer.
She tried to convince herself that Charlie’s condition had nothing to do with what had happened. Two years ago, her friend Cathy Brennan had had her nose broken when her brother had accidentally hit her with the rim of a tennis racket. Screwy mishaps like that happened in families all the time. But Cathy’s brother had owned up to it, and he’d been three years younger than Charlie at the time. Cathy didn’t have to cover up for him.
Molly knew Charlie would never take responsibility for cutting her. She was just as certain that her parents would agree to put him on some kind of medication soon, and maybe even send him to a boarding school for kids with special needs. Her dad had been talking about that for a while. Molly almost wished for it. She hated herself for thinking that way.
She remembered going up to her bedroom that night, holding the bag of frozen peas against her sore arm. On her pillow, Charlie had left his prized gray marble elephant, the one with its trunk up. Molly plopped down on the bed. Clutching the elephant figurine, she allowed herself to cry for the first time that evening.
That had been almost twenty years ago.
She still had the scar. Sitting at the kitchen table, Molly rolled up her sleeve and studied the long, pink line below her elbow. The wound looked just like it had that night—for those fleeting seconds before the bleeding started.
Molly glanced at her sad reflection in the darkened window.
Suddenly, something darted across the backyard. Molly only glimpsed the shadow of a person—or a thing—streaking by. It seemed to come from Kay’s house.
“Oh, Jesus,” she gasped. She stood up so quickly, her chair almost tipped over. She hurried to the light switch in the family room and turned on the outside spotlight—illuminating the small backyard and the first few rows of trees to the forest beyond it. A hand over her heart, she peeked out the sliding glass doors. Nothing.
She ran to the other window and looked next door at Kay’s place. There were still some lights on within the house—including one up in the bedroom. Not
all
the lights were on, thank God.
Molly couldn’t get over the feeling that someone was just outside the house, looking in at her. Earlier tonight, she’d told Kay they were now Neighborhood Watch buddies. Even though it was late, she figured Kay couldn’t be sleeping with all those lights on.
Molly grabbed her cell phone and dialed Kay’s number. It rang twice, and then she heard a click. “Kay?” she said anxiously.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Garveys!”
announced a recording of Kay’s voice.
“But you’re out of luck, because we can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message after the beep, and we’ll get back to you. Better luck next time!”
A few bars from “Maybe Next Time” from
Cabaret
played over the recording until the beep finally sounded.
“Kay?” Molly said into the phone. “Kay, this is Molly next door. Can you pick up? I know it’s late, but—well, could you please pick up? I see your lights are still on. . . .” She wondered if maybe Kay was in the bathroom. “Listen, call me back once you get this message, okay? I’m kind of concerned about something. Thanks.”
Clicking off the phone, Molly went to the window again and peered out at Kay’s house.
She couldn’t detect any movement over there. She retreated into Jeff’s study and looked out his window—down toward the start of the cul-de-sac. The
NO OUTLET
sign was still standing.
But she still felt on edge. Wringing her hands, Molly checked to make sure the front, garage, and sliding glass doors were all double-locked.
She really missed Henry right now. If he was still down at the end of the block, she would have called him, and he’d have been over within two minutes. They’d be cracking jokes right now and having a glass of wine.
She decided if Kay called back, she’d invite her over to spend the night. Kay could ask as many questions about her family as she wanted. Molly didn’t care at this point. She just didn’t want to be alone. She kept looking at the phone, hoping it would ring.
Finally, she returned to Jeff’s study and picked up the cordless on his desk. “Sorry, Jeff,” she murmured, dialing his cell number. He was supposed to be in Denver, and it was past midnight there. She would probably wake him. It rang four times before he answered, sounding groggy. “Hey, honey, what’s up?” he whispered. “You okay?”
“I’m so sorry I woke you,” she said with a nervous sigh. “I’m just a little paranoid tonight. I thought I saw something outside the kitchen window just a few minutes ago. It was probably nothing, but I tried calling Kay, and there’s no answer. I know she’s home. Her lights are on. She might be passed out or something. She was over here earlier tonight, and belted back a lot of wine, but still . . .”
Molly realized she was babbling. She peered out the window at Kay’s house again.
“Well, Kay does like her cabernet,” Jeff said. “You’re right, she’s probably passed out. I mean, the woman has a problem. You sure you didn’t just see a raccoon or something?”
Molly moved into the family room. Through the sliding glass doors, she stared out at the spotlit, empty backyard. “Whoever or whatever it was—it’s gone now.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, honey. I feel awful for waking you up.”
“Well, if you really think you saw someone outside, don’t hesitate to call the police. I mean it, babe. Don’t take any chances.”
“No, I’m sure it was nothing,” Molly said. She didn’t want to call 911 about a little scare she’d had. She could get a reputation for sounding false alarms. The cops probably had enough residents on cul-de-sacs doing that to them lately.
“I guess I’m just feeling on edge,” she admitted. “I got a strange e-mail from an old almost-boyfriend tonight. He works at an art gallery in Chicago. He said someone was in there, asking all sorts of personal questions about me, my family—and Charlie. He said the guy seemed like some kind of sleazy private detective. I’m sorry, but I can’t help thinking of Angela. I mean, she’s always trying to pry into my past. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hired this—this
creep
to go to my old hometown and ask questions about me.”
Jeff sighed. “Listen, sweetie, I’ll talk to Angela, and get to the bottom of this. If she’s resorted to this kind of crap—well, I’ll put a stop to it. That’s ridiculous. I’m so sorry. No wonder you’re feeling jumpy. Anyway, Molly, I’m going to take care of it. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you, honey.” The cordless phone to her ear, she was still looking out at the backyard.
“I’ll be home in just about twelve hours,” Jeff said, soothingly. “Why don’t you pour a glass of wine and look for something good on TV, take your mind off things?”
“Well, I’m about a third of the way through
Exodus
. I think I’ll go back to it and watch until I get sleepy. I’m feeling better already. I think I just needed to hear your voice. . . .”
After she said good-bye to Jeff, Molly hung up the phone. Just about twelve hours until he was home.
Molly told herself she could be all right by herself till then.
Sitting in a cushioned chair by the window, Jeff clicked off his cell phone. The room in the Jantzen Beach Red Lion was dim, and from the window he had a view of the Columbia River and the Portland Bridge. He was in his undershorts.
He strolled into the bathroom, took a pee, and washed his hands. Stepping out of his shorts, he slipped back under the covers.
“Was that your wife?” the woman lying beside him in bed asked.
Jeff nodded, and then nuzzled up next to her, kissing her shoulder. “Yeah, she just had a slight case of the jitters. . . .”
Their legs were still tangled together under the sheets, and he kissed her shoulder. “I love the way you welcome me home when no one else is around,” Jeff whispered.
Smiling, Molly lazily ran her fingers through his dark hair. The curtains in their bedroom were closed, but she could hear rain tapping against the windows. She felt so satiated—and safe.
Last night, she’d had another glass of wine and watched the rest of
Exodus
, which went on until nearly three in the morning. Then under a cozy throw from Restoration Hardware, she’d read four chapters of the latest Susan Wiggs. It was starting to get light out when she finally fell asleep on the sofa.
Kay had never called back. But Molly wasn’t too worried about it. The
NO OUTLET
sign had still been standing at the end of the block when she’d checked shortly after waking up at ten o’clock. And then Jeff had come home a little after one, and suddenly nothing else had mattered.
“I’ll wait until tomorrow to call Angela,” he said, caressing her arm. “I just want you to know I haven’t forgotten. I’ll phone from the office, and find out if she has anything to do with this guy in Chicago. I’d do it today, but I don’t want the kids around, getting wind of this. They shouldn’t know their mother can be pretty awful sometimes. Anyway, rest assured, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Molly leaned over and kissed him on the forehead—and then on his lips. “And they say chivalry is dead,” she whispered.
He gave her a wry smile. “You know, another thing I haven’t forgotten about is this old boyfriend e-mailing you. . . .”
Molly started to laugh. But then she heard a car coming up the cul-de-sac, and it sounded like it stopped right in front of their house.
“Oh, God, is she bringing the kids back
now
?” Molly muttered, jumping out of bed. “She’s at least two hours early.” Swiping her discarded jersey top from the floor, Molly held it in front of her as she ran naked to the window. She pushed back the curtain, and peered outside.
An SUV had stopped next door in front of Kay Garvey’s driveway. Madison climbed out of the car, and hurried toward the front door. She was wearing hot-pink Converse All Star high-tops today. She shielded her head from the rain.
With a sigh of relief, Molly turned away from the window and tossed aside the jersey. “False alarm,” she said. She jumped back under the covers and nestled next to Jeff’s warm, naked body. She heard Kay’s front door slam, and the SUV driving away.
Jeff kissed the side of her neck, and she shuddered gratefully. “So—why was your old boyfriend e-mailing you?” he asked. “Should I be worried?”
“He just wanted to tell me about that guy coming around the gallery,” Molly said.
“So what’s this old boyfriend’s name?” Jeff asked, gliding a hand down her stomach. “And how long were you two an item?”
Molly giggled. “You’re jealous, I like that. His name is Doug, and we dated for only a month. But we were pretty crazy about each other for a while.” She nudged Jeff. “As much as I relish torturing you, I have to be honest. He’s now seeing a concert cellist named Kate, and it’s
serious
. So you have nothing to worry about, sweetie.”
“That’s a relief.” He kissed her cheek. “I was thinking I might have to hire my own private detective to keep tabs on you.”
Molly worked up a smile. It was a little too soon to joke about private detectives. But she decided not to say anything. She just stroked his hair.
Next door, she heard muffled screams. It sounded like Madison was laughing—way too loud—about something. Molly resented the noise. It intruded on this rare quiet moment with her husband.
Jeff sat up halfway, reclining on one elbow. He shot a look over his shoulder toward their window. “Well, that’s annoying as hell. Jesus, listen to her. . . .”
Molly realized it wasn’t laughter coming from next door. Those were screams. A chill raced through her.
Tossing back the covers, she climbed out of bed and grabbed her jersey off the floor. She quickly put it on, then went to the window and pulled back the curtain. She peeked out the rain-beaded window.
The door off Kay Garvey’s bedroom flung open, and Madison staggered out to the balcony. Her screams were much louder now. “Oh my God!” she shrieked. “Someone help me! She’s dead! My mom’s dead! Dear God . . .”
Stunned, Molly stared out the window at her. Automatically, she glanced toward the start of the block—at the
NO OUTLET
sign still standing there. She looked over at Madison again, screaming and crying hysterically on her mother’s balcony, the rain drenching her.
“No,” Molly whispered, clutching her stomach. “No, it can’t be. . . .”
The dollhouse sat on a worktable in the private little room. It was a perfect replica of Kay Garvey’s house, right down to the small balcony off the master bedroom where Kay was murdered. Constructing the miniature house was the result of two weeks of intense work.
The man who killed Kay Garvey wasn’t much of a photographer. Still, out of the hundred photos he’d taken, he’d managed to snap twenty good shots after breaking in two weeks ago when Kay and Madison weren’t home. Between the photos and the intruder’s description, the dollhouse-builder had a pretty accurate idea of the layout. No time was wasted working on the first-floor rooms. That section of the dollhouse was closed off, boarded up.

Other books

Heather Graham by The Kings Pleasure
For the Love of the Game by Rhonda Laurel
Fighting Silence by Aly Martinez
Parker 01 - The Mark by Pinter, Jason
Heaven by Randy Alcorn
Act of Terror by Marc Cameron
Pirates and Prejudice by Louise, Kara
A Country Gentleman by Ann Barker