Not What She Seems (12 page)

Emily sighed and pulled out her checkbook. She stuck out her bottom lip and blew the hair out of her eyes while she made out the check.

“Mom, there’s a dinosaur on the wall in the closet!” Connor ran around Emily and then disappeared around the corner again.

“Well, I guess he found his room.” Emily laughed, but stopped when she saw the look on the landlady’s face. She handed her the check.

“You can move in whenever you like. There’s a thirty dollar late fee if you pay after the fifth of the month. Water is included in the rent. You pay utilities and trash pickup. You can mail next month’s check to this address.” She handed Emily a business card. “Call me if you have any trouble.”

Emily looked at the faded wallpaper and the green shag carpet, and nodded. The landlady turned on her heel and left. Emily ran her fingers through her hair, and was reminded of Steven. He always ran his fingers through his hair like that. Her conscience tugged at her, and she swallowed hard. He’ll get over this, she told herself. There was no other way.

******

The weekend passed without any word from Gerald. Steven was relieved when the call finally came on Monday. He combed his hand through his hair and picked up line two.

“Gerald,
it’s
Steven. What have you got for me?”

“I’ve got some news about Emily.” Steven flinched when he heard Emily’s name, but braced himself for the rest. “I went and spoke with everyone in the area, and a waitress from a nearby truck stop remembers serving her and her son. They were alone, and she thinks they were headed east.”

“Wait, Richard wasn’t with her?”

“No, it looks like they parted ways. The people that I spoke with are positive that Emily was alone with her son.”

“Where is Richard?” Even as the words left his lips, he knew Gerald wouldn’t be able to answer.

“I don’t know, but I have a few good leads on where Emily was headed, so I’ll call you when I know more.”

“Sure, okay. Thank you.” Steven sat and stared out of his large office window. He tapped his pen on his desk, and listened to the sound it made.

Alex came into his office and leaned on the mahogany executive desk. He looked like a kid who had just found his parents’ hiding place for his Christmas presents. “Accelerated Communications is ready to sell.”

Steven’s pulse quickened. “How do you know?”

“
Douglas
just called. He all but asked us if we were still interested in buying.”

“So their financial trouble is worse than they let on.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we couldn’t pick it up for pennies on the dollar.”

Steven sat back in his leather office chair and put the tips of his fingers together. “Don’t call him back.”

“What?”

“Just wait.”

“I don’t know why you want to play cat and mouse with them. Last year you were chomping at the bit to buy them out.”

“This is the part I love the most. Just wait. You’ll see. Have I ever been wrong before?”

Alex rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “No. Somehow you are always right, at least in the business world. Now, your instincts with women…”

Steven’s smile vanished, and he tightened his jaw muscles. Alex didn’t finish his sentence, but flashed a lopsided grin and left.

******

Emily’s eyes snapped open. Her heart raced, and she was trying not to hyperventilate. She’d had the dream again, the one with all the blood. Her slippers padded across the wooden floor as she went to the bathroom. She turned on the hot water and waited a few seconds for it to heat up before plunging her shaking hands under the faucet. The water was still icy cold, and it pierced her skin like needles.

The bed creaked as she slid back under the thin blanket. Her heart felt hollow. She had never been able to forgive herself for leaving William lying there like that. She should have called 911, but she didn’t think he was seriously hurt.

William had started drinking early that Saturday morning, after Samantha came to the house yelling obscenities at him.

******

“What did
she
want?” Emily crossed her arms over her chest and every muscle in her body tensed.

“Nothing.
She’s a quack.” William took a six pack from the fridge.

“Tell me what’s going on with Samantha. I have a right to know. I’m your wife.” She felt her knees start to shake. She hoped he didn’t notice.

“Leave it alone, Emily. It doesn’t concern you.” He left her standing in the kitchen. She started taking pots and pans out of the cupboard and slamming them on the counter, in a pathetic effort to feel better. She emptied everything, wiped it all down, and put everything back in different cabinets. The television blared from the family room.

She plugged in the vacuum and pushed it around the living room, yanking it back and forth like it weighed nothing. Sun streamed in from the window, and Emily glanced outside. The bushes were overgrown making it hard to see past them.

“Do you have to run that thing right now? The game is on!”

Emily turned to see William standing in the doorway, his veins sticking out of his thick neck. She put her hand up to her ear like she couldn’t hear him. He stomped over to the plug and yanked it out of the wall. His words slurred together, and he shouted, “Can you hear me now?”

“Lower your voice.”

“I’ll do what I want. It’s my house.” His words hit her like a smack in the face, and she took a step back.

She whispered, “It won’t be after the divorce.”

His ears turned red, and his biceps bulged. “What did you say to me?”

Emily squared her shoulders. “I said I want a divorce.” William swung his fist at her, and she heard a sickening noise as her head snapped backwards. She felt her eye start to swell shut. His second blow connected with her jaw, and she tasted blood. Anger pulsed through her, and she came at him with all of her fury, pushing him in the chest with her shoulder.

He staggered backwards, and tripped over the vacuum cord. A crack sounded as he hit his head on the marble hearth. He didn’t move, and Emily put her hand over her mouth. All she could think of was how angry he would be when he came to. She grabbed her jacket and her purse and hurried out the door.

******

Steven poured himself a glass of cranberry juice and sat down on the leather stool. Even though he had a large formal dining room, he preferred to eat at the breakfast bar in his kitchen. He grabbed the remote and turned on the small flat panel television that folded down from his cabinets.

The juice was cold and tart, a physical representation of how he felt. He swirled the burgundy liquid around in the glass.

He no longer wanted to find Emily. The pain was too great, the bitterness too deep. He picked up his cell phone and dialed Gerald’s number, to tell him he’s off the case. After the second ring he hung up. He couldn’t do it. Something inside of him needed to confront her, to tell her he knew about her past. He wanted her to admit she was a con artist, and that she had known who he was from the start. To look into her eyes and force her to tell him the truth. Then he could turn her over to the authorities.

He closed his eyes and listened to the droning of the television.
“…will keep your colors bright and your fabric soft.
Washing your laundry has never been easier.”

The image of Emily in the Laundromat pushed its way into his head. He could see her glancing outside and chewing on her bottom lip. It dawned on him that she had been looking at Richard through the window. She was nervous that day. He hadn’t noticed, because he was trying to get up the nerve to ask her out, but he was sure of it now. Her eyes were filled with worry.

No.

They were filled with fear
.

He took a drink of his juice and let it slide down his throat. There was a possibility that Emily was afraid of Richard. He let this thought filter through his mind while he stood up and rinsed his glass out in the sink.

He turned on the heated floor in his bathroom and stepped into the shower. Steam filled the room. Everything he knew about Emily was a lie. He scrubbed his scalp, white foaming lather slid down his shoulders and back. Thoughts of how she would tenderly smooth Connor’s hair and kiss him on the head were brought to his mind. That was real. She does love her son. She hadn’t lied about Stapleton, even though she probably didn’t mean to tell him. He remembered her trembling hands.

The cascading water massaged out some of the tension in his shoulders. She had kissed him on the cheek and whispered “goodbye”. She knew she wasn’t going to see him again. He saw tears in her eyes; he was sure of it now. He could feel the warmth of her kiss on his cheek, and hear the sadness in her last words to him. That was real, he thought.
That was real.

Steven closed the door to his office, a signal to his secretary that he didn’t want to be bothered. It couldn’t be put off any longer. He had to call Rose. She picked up after the second ring.

“Hello Rose. How is Frank doing?”

“He’s fine, Ethan. Did you find Emily?”

“No.” He took a deep breath and then continued. “No I didn’t. I hired a private investigator. I have found out a lot about Emily that we didn’t know. She is,” he searched for the right words, “not what she seems.”

“What did you find out?”

“She’s wanted for questioning in a murder case. She may also be mixed up in some other things.” He couldn’t bear to tell her about Richard, or that Emily took five thousand dollars from him.

“Dear heavens above. Who was murdered?”

“Emily’s husband.”

Steven heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone. “When did this happen?”

“Five years ago.”

“I can’t believe that she would be capable of murder.”

“I don’t know what to believe.” He tugged at his tie. “Listen, I’d better get back to work.”

Rose made him promise to keep her posted before they disconnected. Steven sat back in his large office chair. He spent the rest of the day trying to get Emily off his mind. He didn’t have much luck.

******

A few days passed before Steven got the phone call he was waiting for.

“Steven, I found her. She’s living in
Ohio
. I’m emailing you some photographs, so you can positively identify her.”

“Thank you, Gerald.” The words were hard to choke out. His pulse raced, and he logged onto his email account. His throat tightened as he looked at a photograph of Emily, a brown knitted cap on her head, her curly hair spilling down her shoulders. She held her son, smiling at him. Connor appeared to be laughing, his arms wrapped tight around his mother’s neck, little red mittens on his hands.

“Yes, that’s her. Is Richard with her?”

“No, I’ve seen no sign of him. She’s alone with her son.”

“Email me her address.”

“Are you sure you want to go see her? She might want to take a hammer to the back of your skull if you show up to confront her.”

“Thanks for your concern, but I need to talk to her.”

“Just watch your back.”

Steven scrolled through the photographs of Emily, while his conscience tugged at him. She looked happy, and he was about to destroy her. She would have to answer to the police for what she did to William. If she was found guilty of murder and theft, she would go to prison.

He pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw. He had to go speak with her, to get the truth. And she needed to face her past.

******

Richard tugged his baseball cap down and walked through the slush and snow into the library. This was nothing new. He had frequented libraries since Steven Ashton left town. He was careful not to go to the same one twice. With two large
Nebraska
cities close to
Huntington
, he didn’t have to worry about it. He blended in and no one noticed him.

He sat down at the computer and logged onto Steven’s email account. A smile cracked through his face. Emily and the kid were in
Cleveland
. The email had come two hours ago. It was late afternoon. If he got on the road now he had a chance to get there before Steven did, assuming he would wait until tomorrow to take a flight there. Richard wrote down her address and did a quick search for the fastest way to get there. Fifteen minutes later he was on the interstate, careful not to exceed the speed limit by too much. The last thing he needed was a cop pulling him over.