Chapter 25
S
tanding on the veranda, Julie Wyatt and her seven guests looked like a small army ready to go into battle. All they were waiting for was Connie and Carrie Wyatt, who had just turned into the driveway. It was exactly seven fifty Sunday morning. Inside, behind closed doors, the dogs yapped their displeasure at being left behind.
At the bottom of the steps, in the driveway, cars were lined up, one of the three cars Annie and Myra had rented, which had yet to be driven, behind the lead vehicle, the SUV that Ted had rented at the airport. Bert, Jack, and Espinosa climbed into the car behind the SUV. Annie and Myra would drive in their own rental, followed by Julie in her Blazer. Connie and Carrie would be last in line. The plan was that Ted and Harry, who was posing as Joseph Espinosa, would go first. Harry had assured everyone that he would need no more than five minutes, if that, to incapacitate Darlene and Adam, if need be. The boys were scheduled to leave ten minutes after Ted and Harry did.
Ted turned on the engine and looked at Harry when it growled to life. Harry looked serene, almost like he was in a trance. They’d made six dry runs in the early hours of the previous evening. Ted felt confident enough to find the address with his eyes closed. Still, he clicked on the navigation system and waited for the greeting, which always set his teeth on edge. Not for the first time, he wondered if the reason the voice used was so grating was to prevent drivers from falling asleep.
He risked another glance at Harry out the corner of his eye. He wished he knew the secret to the man’s serenity. He felt his insides quiver at the thought of just the two of them in the same closed-in vehicle. Harry Wong scared the living daylights out of him, and he didn’t care who knew it.
Five minutes later, Ted pulled to a stop directly in front of Darlene Wyatt’s house. Both men climbed out. They were dressed alike, in pressed khakis and white Izod shirts, their press card on lanyards, hanging around their necks. Neither said a word as they walked up to the door and rang the bell. When nothing happened, Ted pressed his thumb on the bell and held it there. He looked at Harry and shrugged. “Here goes nothing,” he hissed.
“Darlene Wyatt, if you’re home, open the door. I’m here from the
Washington Post
to talk about your stolen identity,” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, hoping Julie Wyatt was right, and the neighbors were all at church. He jabbed at the doorbell again and held his thumb in place. Harry pointed to his watch. Ted nodded.
Ted bellowed again, “The
Post
checks with the Social Security Administration every day. Your name came up. I don’t have all day, so either open up and talk to us, or we’re outta here. We also have to cover the summer festival.” He jabbed at the doorbell one more time before turning to pretend to leave.
The door opened. Ted hoped he looked irritated. The truth was he was so scared he could barely breathe. He reached for the lanyard and practically shoved it into Darlene’s face. Before Darlene could say anything, Ted said, “You want to tell me your story or not? If you do, let’s get to it. This is Joe Espinosa. He’s my photographer. Decide now, lady; I don’t have all day.”
The disbelief in Darlene’s face was almost comical. “You came all the way here from Washington, D.C., for the Rosemont Summer Festival?”
“Yeah. My editor used to live here and has fond memories of the place. It sucks, but it pays the bills. They threw you in as an added incentive. You want to talk or not? I’m thinking you might be a whole hell of a lot more interesting than that hokey festival.”
Adam pushed his way past Darlene to the door and looked at Ted and Harry. “Finally, someone wants to do something. Where are your manners, Darlene? Invite these gentlemen into the house.” He looked at Harry and the camera bag hanging from his shoulder. “You will be taking pictures, right?” Harry nodded.
“Well then, Adam, make some coffee, and I’ll freshen up. We want to look real nice for the pictures, so people will know we aren’t someone’s nightmare. Someone like my mother-in-law,” she simpered.
Ted could hardly wait for the door to close behind him. He saw Harry looking at his watch. Ten seconds to spare. Jack should be arriving momentarily, along with the others.
“You guys want some coffee?” Adam said, leading the way to the kitchen.
“Yeah, sure. Didn’t get a chance to get any yet this morning,” Ted said, stepping aside so Harry could walk in front of him. Harry waited until Adam had the coffeepot going—in case Ted really did want coffee—before he stepped up to Adam, reached out, and pressed a spot on the back of his neck. Both men watched as Adam crumpled to the floor.
“You might as well have some coffee while we wait for Darlene and her transformation. I’ll open the garage door for the others. The minute Darlene shows up, I’ll put her to sleep, and you get the girl. We good on that, Ted?”
“Yeah. This is really shitty coffee. Tastes like colored water.”
“You should drink tea, Ted.”
It didn’t sound like a suggestion. Coming from Harry, it sounded more like an order. Ted nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think I will switch. Tea is good. My mother always drank tea. You know, in times of crisis and things like that. When you’re sick, too,” Ted babbled.
“Shut up, Ted. You’re humoring me, and I hate it when people humor me.”
Ted shut up immediately.
Darlene appeared out of nowhere. Harry and Ted stared at her. Ted wanted to ask her if she had used a trowel to put on her makeup. Harry wanted to ask her if she had to go through a car wash to remove it. She was dressed in an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, her dyed hair frizzed on top of her head like a beehive. So far, she hadn’t noticed her boyfriend lying on the floor. When she did notice him, she yelped in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth. Harry grimaced as his hand shot out. Darlene fell on top of Adam Fortune. Harry dusted his hands together dramatically.
“You do really good work, Harry.”
“Stop sucking up to me, Ted. I know I do good work. What about the girl?”
“Well, I think that’s up to the twins. They just pulled up in front of the house. I hope they don’t come out here to the kitchen. Stay here, Harry, and I’ll make sure they take Olivia to the front door.”
A moment later, Ted blinked when he saw a whirlwind racing down the steps, a small pink suitcase hitting every step on the way. “I knew you would come! I knew you would come! Daddy said to get ready, and I’m ready. Can we go now? Daddy said I never have to come back here. Where’s Grandma? I have to tell her something. Daddy made me promise not to forget. It’s important. I have to tell her. I can’t break a promise to Daddy.”
The twins looked at each other, then down at Ollie. Connie licked at her lips and dropped to her knees. “Did you dream about your father last night, Ollie?”
“No! No! That’s what Adam asked me, and I told him the same thing. Daddy told me what to do. He made me a bed with his angel wing feathers because Darlene ripped up my pillows.” Tears pooled in the little girl’s eyes. “Adam didn’t believe me either till I showed him, then he looked sick and slammed my door.”
“Show us,” Carrie said.
The little girl galloped back up the steps and down the hall to her room. She pointed dramatically to her closet. The twins looked in, their faces draining of color. “Feather pillows?” Connie hissed.
Ollie heard her. “No, Connie, that’s what Adam said. Darlene is allergic to feathers, so she bought all new pillows. Daddy put them there from his wings. I want to take them with me, but I don’t have anything to put them in. Daddy might want them back when I get to Grandma’s house. Can you get a bag, Connie?”
Connie was already out the door and running down the steps. She went into the kitchen and didn’t bat an eye at what she saw. She headed straight for the pantry, where she assumed the trash bags would be. She was right. She grabbed one and raced back upstairs. Ollie was crying, saying over and over that her father wouldn’t be able to fly without feathers on his angel wings. She perked up when Carrie told her that the feathers would grow back like magic.
“I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, Carrie,” Connie said, as she scooped the last of the feathers into the bag. As she was backing out of the closet, she thought she heard Larry’s voice say,
Take care of my daughter, Connie.
“Count on it,” was the best Connie could say past the lump in her throat.
“You talking to yourself now?” Carrie asked as she shepherded Ollie to the door.
“No, she was talking to Daddy, Carrie. Daddy told her to take care of me. Didn’t he, Connie?”
“Yes. Yes, he did, Ollie.” Carrie could only gape at her twin as Connie’s head bobbed up and down.
Carrie slid behind the wheel, Connie and Ollie in the backseat. As they rounded the corner, they saw the string of cars parked in Darlene Wyatt’s driveway.
“Let’s have a sing-along,” Connie suggested. Anything, so she wouldn’t have to think about what had just happened. “Let’s sing all the way to wherever we go for breakfast.”
“I like the itsy bitsy spider. Let’s sing that one. That was Mommy’s favorite,” Ollie said as she broke out into song, the twins laughing and joining her. Everyone was off key, of course.
Back at the Darlene Wyatt household, the kitchen was overcrowded, not only with people but with
gear.
“I can’t believe I’m standing in Larry’s kitchen. This is an abortion,” Julie said, looking around. “This used to be such a pretty kitchen, the kind you just wanted to work in. Not this . . . this abomination.” There was nothing for any of them to say to Julie’s broken comment, so they remained silent.
Bert grabbed Adam Fortune by the feet and dragged him roughly toward the family room. Jack dragged Darlene.
“Don’t worry about them, they won’t wake up till you’re ready for them,” Harry said cheerfully.
“Who has the duct tape?” Ted asked.
Myra and Annie both held up their oversize purses. “Never leave home without it. Duct tape is a woman’s best friend,” Annie said.
“That’s why we carry such big purses,” Myra explained.
“I did not know that,” Espinosa said.
“Well, now you do,” Annie shot back. “Be afraid, be very afraid of women carrying big purses.”
Espinosa wasn’t sure if his chain was being yanked or not, so he simply nodded.
“We’re ready when you ladies are,” Jack said, plopping down in a burgundy recliner. “Has anyone noticed how dark and gloomy this house is? Are these people vampires or something?”
Julie swallowed hard. “I guess they wanted to erase all signs that my son had ever lived here. This particular room used to have flowered furniture in it. The walls were white, not this deep gray color. Very few people have carpet in Alabama because of the humidity. The oak floors under this ugly carpet used to be polished and beautiful.”
“Anytime you want these two to wake up, just say the word, ladies,” Harry said.
“Let’s tape them up first and sit them on chairs; and then you can work your magic, Harry. Who has the tape?”
Annie and Myra each tossed him a roll of tape. Jack handed one to Bert, who went to work on Darlene. Jack ripped off a strip of tape and slapped it around Adam Fortune’s ankles. He looked around at Julie. “Your daughters did take the child, right? She’s not in the house, is she? We don’t want her seeing this.”
“They’re gone. We passed them on the way here. They’re going to take Ollie out to church, then breakfast. This place will be just a bad memory for Ollie,” Julie said.
Jack nodded. “Okay, Wizard Harry, do your thing.”
“Your wish is my command, oh bearer of the torch,” Harry replied. And Harry
did his thing.
Just seconds before Darlene opened her eyes, Julie planted herself directly in her line of vision. She was the first person her ex-daughter-in-law saw when she opened her eyes.
“Hello, Darlene,” Julie said, venom dripping from each word.
“What the hell are you doing in my house, and who are these people?”
“Whose house, Darlene? Let’s be clear on that right now. This is Olivia’s house. Not yours. Not those . . . those skanks you moved in here. Say it, say it right now. I want to hear you say out loud that this is Olivia’s house.”
“Go to hell! This is
my
house.”
“I’m real sorry you feel that way. Okay, that was number one. Here’s number two. Admit you let my son die so you could get all his money. Admit it right now.”
“Kiss my ass; you know as well as I do that he just up and died. You can’t blame me for that.”
“Well, sure I do, Darlene. And my family and everyone else in this town believes it, too. Okay, here’s number three. Admit right now that you cheated on my son with that . . . that . . . person sitting next to you.”
“I’m not admitting anything to you. You and your whole damned family hate me; you’re all crazy.”
Julie laughed, a truly ugly sound. “Crazy enough to steal your identity and put you in the position you’re in right now. Oh, well, I asked you nicely. You have no manners, Darlene. You never did. You’re like one of those snake-oil saleswomen.
“Well, now, Ms. Wyatt, let’s see what you have to say for yourself. I’m going to ask nice, and you would be wise to respond in kind. Let’s hear your story.”
“I don’t have a story,” Darlene said defiantly.
In a nanosecond, Julie was in her face. “Are you going to sit there and tell me you never hit my granddaughter, never whipped her, never made fun of her, never humiliated her, never made her do your bidding like some child slave while you and your . . . your weasel boyfriend and his delinquent kids availed yourselves of her house, her monies?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you, and, no, I didn’t cheat on your son with Adam. I knew it was you, you bitch. I told Adam you were the one who stole our identities, but he said you weren’t smart enough to do that. He told me to give you back that snot-nosed kid, but I wouldn’t listen.”