Right Hand of Evil (18 page)

At Jake's feet Lucky whined softly and pressed close.

"Oh, Jesus," Jake whispered. "Oh, Jesus Lord, who did this?" His stomach heaving, Jake moved closer, reached out and gently stroked the dog's muzzle, as if to comfort it. Then his eyes fell on the dog's right foreleg.

The paw was missing, severed neatly, leaving the leg to end in a bloody stump.

Too
late,
Jake thought.

It's already too late.

Janet glanced fretfully at her watch for what must have been the dozenth time. Quarter to six. Fifteen more minutes.

She'd give Jared fifteen more minutes, then-then what?

Call the police? Call the hospital?

"There's nothing to worry about," Ted had assured her an hour ago. "He's almost sixteen." Then, reading perfectly the thought that had popped unbidden into her mind, he grinned. But it wasn't the kind of ridiculing sneer that had so often twisted his lips in the early stages of his binges. This time it was just a friendly grin, and when he spoke, his voice held no hint of sarcasm. "Hey, Jan, come on. He's not me-he's not out getting drunk somewhere. He's probably just hanging out with a buddy or something." He'd put his arms around her then, and nuzzled her hair the way he had years ago.

But hadn't for how long? Five years? Ten? So long ago, anyway, that she couldn't even remember. But his breath had no trace of alcohol now, and when she felt his arms around her and he ruffled her hair, the years fell away and it was as familiar as if he'd held her like this yesterday. "Let's not go looking for trouble until we know it's out there, okay?"

The tension had drained out of her, and she'd gone back to work, peeling the potatoes that were now simmering on the stove while Ted played with Molly, both of them sitting on the kitchen floor, pushing Molly's favorite red and yellow ball back and forth.

Scout was curled up in the corner by the refrigerator.

Kim was up in her room, struggling with her homework.

Like a normal family,
Janet thought.
We look like a normal family.
But as the minutes crept by and Jared didn't come home, her worries had once more started to build.
Habit. It's just habit,
she told herself.
I'm so used to worrying about Ted that if I don't have to worry about him for even one day, I find someone else to worry about.
But it hadn't even been one day since Ted came home, she reminded herself. Tomorrow, even tonight, it could all change. For all she knew, he might have a case of vodka hidden away in the house. And yet, all day, as she watched Ted work-and work far harder than he had since they were first married-she'd seen the change in him. Even when he didn't know she was watching, when she stood far back in one of the upstairs rooms so he couldn't possibly see her, he'd kept at it, his torso glistening with sweat, his muscles straining with the unaccustomed labor. And when he finally finished in the backyard, he hadn't rewarded himself with a beer. Instead, he poured himself a glass of the iced tea she'd made before lunch, then taken a shower and played with Molly.

Like a normal family.

"If he doesn't get here by six, we'll just go ahead and eat without him," Ted said, once again reading her thoughts. He winked at her. "After all, it wouldn't be the first time this family has been a member short at the dinner table. And I promise," he went on when his words didn't erase the worry from her eyes, "if he's not home by seven, I'll go look for him. Okay?" Getting to his feet, he began setting the kitchen table, with Molly tagging after him. Again, years of habit came into play, and Janet moved to scoop her daughter up before Ted could brush her aside. But once again her husband surprised her. "Let her be, hon. She's just trying to help."

Ted called Kim down exactly at six, and the four of them-with Molly in her high chair-started eating.

At five after six Scout stood up and a low growl rumbled in his throat. All of them except Molly stopped eating as the big dog moved toward the kitchen door. They heard the front door open then, and close.

"Jared?" Janet called out. "We're in the kitchen! Supper's on the table." She got up to serve her son's plate, but when she tried to gently nudge Scout aside so she could get to the stove, the big retriever didn't move. Instead, the dog stood rigid, his eyes fixed on the kitchen door, his hackles up. And when Jared appeared in the doorway, another low growl of warning reverberated in the dog's throat. "For heaven's sake, Scout, it's only…" The words died on her lips as she saw that Jared wasn't alone. Behind him was the boy she remembered from the day of the funeral, when they'd been moving into the house. Mark? No.
Luke.
That was it. Luke. Her eyes shifted back to her son. "You should have called," she told him. "If I'd known you were bringing a friend home, I'd have made enough to feed him."

"It's okay," Jared replied. "We got some pizza downtown. We're just gonna go up to my room and listen to some music, okay?" Without waiting for a reply, he and his friend disappeared back through the dining room.

But Scout, instead of following Jared as he always had before, remained on the alert until the sound of the two boys' footsteps on the stairs faded away. And when the retriever returned to his spot next to the refrigerator, his head stayed up.

"See?" Kim said. "I told you Jared was acting weird. Even Scout can tell."

"Don't you think Scout might have been reacting to Jared's friend?" her father asked.

Before Kim could reply, a thunder of music rolled through the house-a hard-pounding rap whose lyrics, even if they hadn't been muddled by the ceiling above the kitchen, were all but drowned out by the pounding rhythm of the synthesizer that accompanied them. Molly, who'd been happily playing with her food a moment before, wailed, and Janet, reacting to the habits inculcated in her over the years, rose from the table, already anticipating her husband's anger. "I'll make him turn it down-" she began, but Ted was already on his feet.

"You take care of Molly," he told her. "It's going to be bad enough having me tell him to keep it down. If it's you, he'll die of embarrassment."

As Janet lifted Molly out of her high chair to soothe the screaming child, Ted headed upstairs. A few seconds later the music was cut short, and shortly afterward, Molly's anguished howls settled into quiet sniffling. Then the little girl rubbed her eyes with her fists and struggled to get back to her dinner. Janet slid her back into the high chair, and Molly scooped a handful of potatoes toward her mouth, getting most of them onto her face and bib.

When Ted returned, Janet waited for the music to start up again.

But the silence held.

"Would you mind telling me how you did that?" she asked.

"Simple," Ted replied, dropping back into his chair. "I made a deal."

"A deal," Janet repeated. "What kind of deal?"

Ted grinned at her, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Probably shouldn't tell you," he said. "Guy thing. But since you're bound to find out anyway, I might as well confess. I gave him one of the rooms in the basement."

Janet stared blankly at her husband, then shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to explain. I don't get it."

Ted shrugged. "Think about it-Jared's almost sixteen, right? Just the age when kids like that kind of music."

"I don't," Kim interjected. But before either of her parents could correct her, she quickly modified the statement. "At least I don't like it so loud it hurts your ears."

"But your brother obviously does-or at least his friend does, which amounts to the same thing. So, since with any luck at all we're going to be having a lot of paying guests around here in a few months, I'm moving Jared into the basement. I told him he could fix it up any way he wants, as long as he makes it soundproof so that no one up here has to listen to whatever he's listening to. He winds up with his privacy, and we wind up with one more room to rent and one less teenager hogging a bathroom upstairs."

"I don't hog the bathroom," Kim protested. Before her mother could object, she changed direction. "What if
I
wanted a room downstairs?"

Her father looked at her blandly. "Do you?" he asked, his voice betraying nothing of what he might be thinking.

Kim thought about the dark cavern downstairs, with the rabbit warren of dusty rooms lit only by a few bare lightbulbs. God only knew what might be down there, creeping around in the darkness. Unable to hide the shudder that ran over her, she shook her head. "No!"

"Didn't think so," her father replied, winking at Janet.

Half an hour later, when Kim had gone back up to her homework and Jared and Luke had disappeared into the basement to start making plans for his new room, Janet stood at the sink washing dishes.

Washing the dishes, and trying to fathom what had happened that day.

How was it possible that she could have gotten up this morning with the decision to end her marriage finally made, and now actually be looking forward to settling down to spend the evening with the very same man she'd been intending to leave?

Except he wasn't the same man.

Whatever had happened to Ted-whatever truth had finally come to him in the midst of his drunkenness-had, indeed, changed him. And the Ted who came home this morning wasn't a total stranger-he was the Ted she'd met years ago, before the drinking had begun.

He was the Ted she'd always wanted, not the Ted her friends warned her against marrying.

Finally, she'd been proved right.
Maybe,
her mother's voice interjected. Janet wanted to reject her mother's silent warning as soon as it came into her head, but knew she couldn't.

Ted, after all, had made promises before.

And every time, every single time, he'd broken them.

So why would this time be any different? In the quiet and solitude of the kitchen, she admitted to herself that it might
not
be any different. She would just have to wait and see.

But for now, for the first time in years, she felt married again.

For as long as it lasted, she was going to enjoy it.

You sure this is a good idea?" Luke Roberts asked as he scanned the room. Perhaps a dozen feet square, its walls were made of thick oaken planks nailed to the huge twelve-by-twelve posts that supported the main joists of the house. It was lit by a single naked bulb hanging from a wire that had been strung along the beams beneath the floor. High up on one wall there were two small windows opening into light wells that, though they might brighten the room a little bit during the day, wouldn't let anyone inside see out, except for maybe a tiny slice of sky. Just the idea of moving into this place was enough to make Luke shudder, and if he'd been given the choice between this dungeon and the big room on the second floor-which was at least twice this size-he knew which one he'd have gone for. In fact, he'd have gone for a room half this size if it had a real window you could open up to let some air in.

There was a funny smell in the room, too. It seemed to be coming from the floor, which was made out of concrete that was starting to rot, with pits Luke was certain must be full of mold and mildew. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a grate in the middle of the floor.

"It's the sump," Jared replied. "If it gets real wet, and water starts collecting down here, it all runs in there. Then when that gets too full, a pump goes on, and pumps all the water outside."

The room, already close to a complete zero on Luke's list, dropped another notch. "You mean you want to sleep in a room that might flood?"

Jared shrugged. "Even if it floods, it's not going to be that bad." Then he grinned, his eyes glinting in the bright glare of the bulb that hung from the rafters. "And I'd sure rather be down here than upstairs where everyone'll know what I'm doing."

"There isn't even a bathroom," Luke said sourly.

"Sure there is," Jared countered. "It's over in the corner, near the stairs."

"So what are you gonna do if you have to take a leak in the middle of the night? There's gotta be all kinds of spiders and stuff down here."

"Jeez," Jared groaned. "Haven't you ever heard of a bug bomb? You just set it off and close the place up for a few hours."

"Your dad's gonna love that idea," Luke observed.

"It was my dad's idea in the first place," Jared retorted. Then: "You got a joint?"

Luke's expression clouded suspiciously. "What if I do?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Jared's eyes rolled. "If you do, we can smoke it."

Luke stared at him. "With your folks right upstairs?"

Jared shrugged. "Why not? That's the great thing about being down here-nobody's gonna walk by, so they won't even smell it if it leaks under the door a little."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "Bet you wouldn't," he said, with just enough challenge in his voice to tell Jared he did, indeed, have a joint.

"I'm gonna go up and get some food and Cokes," Jared said. "Then we'll smoke it, and figure out how to fix this place up."

In less than five minutes he was back, bringing not only Cokes and potato chips, but the radio from his room as well, along with a couple of candles. Plugging the radio into the single socket jury-rigged onto one of the walls the same way the light had been hung from the rafters, he turned it on, but kept the volume low enough so it wouldn't bring anyone down from upstairs. "So how about it, Luke?" he said. "You gonna share the joint?"

Luke frowned. "How'd you know I had one?"

Jared's lips curved into a mysterious smile. "I know all kinds of stuff," he said.

Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out a red tin box just like the ones that practically everyone Jared knew carried. Opening the lid, Luke carefully lifted the paper that cradled the peppermints inside. Underneath were three neatly rolled joints. After taking two of them out and placing them on the floor, Luke slid the box back into his pocket.

Silently, Luke handed one of the joints to Jared.

Jared struck a match, lit the joint, and sucked the smoke deep into his lungs. Holding his breath to keep the fumes in his lungs as long as possible, he passed the joint to Luke. "See?" he said after they'd each taken three tokes. "No big deal." Both of them sank down onto the floor, leaning against the oak wall.

"Good shit," Luke muttered as he sucked a fourth toke into his lungs.

Jared got up and lit the candle, pulled the string that shut off the glare of the naked lightbulb, and settled down against the wall opposite Luke. "Not so bad, is it?"

"Can't see anything," Luke groused, temporarily blinded.