Covet - A Novel of Fallen Angel Part 6

Darkness brought with it, among many blessings, the benefit of prevalent shadow. Which made it far more useful than daylight.

As the man sat behind the wheel of the taxi, he knew that both he and his vehicle were invisible to the one he watched. She couldnat see him. She did not know he was there or that he had taken pictures of her or that he had been trailing her for weeks. And this confirmed the power he had over her.

Through the bars on her window, he watched her as she sat on the couch with the boy. He couldnat see them clearly, as there was a gauze curtain in the way, but he recognized the shapes of them, the larger and the smaller, nestled close together on the sofa in the living room.

Head made it his business to learn her schedule. During the week, she schooled the boy until three in the afternoon, whereupon on Mondays through Thursdays she took him to the YMCA for his swimming and basketball lessons. While the boy was at the facility, she never left hima"whether he was in the pool or on the court, she was perpetually seated on the benches where the children left their warm-ups and their little bags. When the boy was finished, she waited right outside the locker room for him, and after he got changed, she drove him straight home.

Careful. She was so very carefula"except for the fact that the rhythms of her life never changed: Every night except Sundays, she made the boy dinner at six; then the babysitter showed up at eight oaclock and she took off, going to St. Patrickas either for confession or prayer group. After which she went to that G.o.dforsaken club.

He hadnat been inside the Iron Mask yet, but that was going to change tonight. His plan was to trail her for hours while she worked as a waitress or a bartender or whatever she was, learning more about her and how she lived. G.o.d was in the details, as they said, and he needed to know everything.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, he fussed with the wig and the mustache he was using as a disguise. They werenat sophisticated, but they hid his features well enough, and he needed them for a variety of reasons.

Plus he relished the feeling he got when he was invisible to her; the thrill of watching her when she was unaware of it was downright s.e.xual.

At seven forty, a sedan pulled up in front of the house and an African-American woman got out. She was one of three babysitters head seen this week, and after following one of them home and seeing where she went the next morning, head learned they all came from a social service called the Caldwell Center for Single Mothers.

Ten minutes after the sitter went inside, the garage door trundled up and he ducked lower in his seata"because two could play at the extra safe game.

Seven fifty. Right on time.

His woman backed out into the driveway and waited as the door shut tight, as if she were worried that one of these times it wouldnat make it all the way down. When it was finished doing its thing, her red brake lights went out and the car reversed into the street and took off.

He started the cab and was just putting it in gear when the dispatcheras voice broke through the silence. aOne fortya"where are you, one forty? One forty, we need your G.o.dd.a.m.n car back.a No way, he thought. He didnat have time to drop off the cab and catch up with her. St. Patrickas would be the next stop, and by the time he checked out of work, shead be done at the church.

aOne forty? G.o.dd.a.m.n youa"a He curled up a fist, prepared to punch the radio into silence and it was hard to tame his temper. Always had been. But he reminded himself that he would have to return the taxi at some point, and busted equipment meant head have to deal with the dispatcher.

He had to avoid conflicts because they never ended well for him or the other person. That much head learned.

And he had big plans.

aComing in now,a he said into the receiver.

Head just have to see her at the club, even though he felt cheated because head miss her at St. Patas.

Marie-Terese sat in the bas.e.m.e.nt of St. Patrickas Cathedral in a plastic chair that made her b.u.t.t hurt. To her left was a mother of five who always cradled her Bible in the crook of her arm like it was a baby. To her right was a guy who must have been a mechanic: His palms were clean, but there was always a black line beneath each of his fingernails.

There were twelve other people in the circle and one empty chair, and she knew everybody in the room as well as the person who was missing tonight. After having listened to them all go on about their lives for the past couple of months, she could recite the names of their husbands and wives and children, if they had them, knew the critical events that had shaped their pasts, and had insight into the darkest corners of their inner closets.

Shead been going to the prayer group since September, and shead found out about it from a notice posted on the church bulletin board: The Bible in Daily Life, Tuesdays and Fridays, 8 p.m.

Tonightas discussion was on the book of Job, and the extrapolations were obvious: Everyone was talking about the vast struggles they were dealing with, and how they were certain that their faith would be rewarded and G.o.d would see them through to a prosperous futurea"as long as they kept believing.

Marie-Terese didnat say anything. She never did.

Unlike when she went to confession, down here in the bas.e.m.e.nt she was looking to do something other than talk. The thing was, there was no other place in her life where she could be around normal-ish people. She certainly wasnat finding them at the club, and outside of work, she had no friends, no family, no anyone.

So every week she came here and sat in this circle and tried to connect in some small way to the rest of the planet. As it was now, she felt like she was on a distant sh.o.r.e, staring across a raging river at the Land of the Worried Well, and it wasnat that she begrudged or belittled them. On the contrary, she tried to take strength from being in their company, thinking that maybe if she breathed the same air they did, and drank the same coffee, and listened to their storiesamaybe someday she would live among them once again.

As a result, these meetings werenat a religious thing to her, and unlike the fecund mother hen next to her with the obvious Bible, Marie-Tereseas Good Book stayed in her purse. Heck, she brought it only in case someone asked her where it was and it was a good thing it was only the size of a palm.

With a frown, she tried to remember where shead picked it up. It had been somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon, in a convenience storeaGeorgia? Alabama? Shead been on the trail of her ex-husband and had needed something, anything to get her through the days and nights without losing her mind.

That was what, three years ago?

Seemed like three minutes and three millennia at the same time.

G.o.d, those horrible months. Shead known getting away from Mark was going to be awful, but shead had no idea how bad it would really get.

After head beaten her up and abducted Robbie, shead spent two nights in the hospital getting over what head done to her, and then shead found a private investigator and headed after them. It had taken all of that May, June, and July to locate her son, and she still to this day had no clue how shead gotten through those horrible weeks.

Funny, she hadnat had her faith back then and things had still worked out, the miracle she had been praying for being granted even though she hadnat really believed in who she was asking things of. Clearly, all the entreaties had worked, though, and she could remember with total clarity the sight of the PIas black Navigator pulling up to the Motel 6 shead been staying in. Robbie had opened the SUVas door and stepped into the Florida suns.h.i.+ne, and she had meant to run toward him, but her knees had failed. Sinking down onto the sidewalk, she had held her arms out as shead wept.

Shead thought he was dead.

Robbie had turned toward the choking soundaand the instant head seen her, head bolted across the distance as fast as he could go. As head slammed into her arms, his clothes had been dirty and his hair s.h.a.ggy and head smelled like burnt macaroni and cheese. But he lived and breathed and was in her arms.

He hadnat cried then, however. And he hadnat cried since.

Hadnat spoken of his father or those three months, either. Even to the therapists shead taken him to.

Marie-Terese had a.s.sumed that the worst part of the experience had been not knowing whether the son she had birthed and loved was alive or not. His coming home was just another h.e.l.l, though. She wanted to ask him if he was all right every minute of every day, but obviously she couldnat do that. And every once in a while, when she cracked and put the question out there, he just told her he was fine.

He was not fine. Could not possibly be fine.

The details the PI had been able to give her were sketchy. Her husband had taken Robbie across the country, going from rental car to rental car, and living off of a host of aliases and a ma.s.sive cash stash. It had turned out that head kept a low profile for a couple of reasonsa"because it wasnat just Marie-Terese whoad been looking for him.

And to keep Robbie from trying to escape, it was likely that Mark had bullied him. Which made her want to kill her ex-husband.

After shead gotten Robbie back and filed for divorce, shead run as far away from where theyad lived as she could, surviving on money shead taken from Mark and jewelry head bought her. Unfortunately, it hadnat been enough to live off of for long, not after the lawyersa fees, the PIas bill, and the cost of reinventing herself.

What she had ended up doing for money made her think about Job. She was willing to bet when the tide had turned against him he hadnat known what hit him: One minute he was fine and dandy; the next head been stripped of everything that had defined him and been taken so low that surely head thought of doing things to survive that once would have been incomprehensible.

She was the same. She never would have seen this coming. Not the descent downward or the hard landing as shead bottomed out and turned to prost.i.tution.

But she should have known better. Her ex had been shady from the start, a man with cash everywhere except in bank accounts. Where the h.e.l.l had she thought the money came from? People who were in legitimate businesses had credit cards and debit cards and maybe a couple of twenties in their wallets. They didnat keep hundreds of thousands of dollars in Gucci briefcases hidden in the closets of their Las Vegas hotel suites.

Of course, she hadnat known about all that in the beginning. When it had all started, shead been too snowed by the presents and the dinners out and the plane rides. Only later had she started to question things, and by then it was too late: She had a son she loved and a husband she was terrified of, and that had shut her up quick.

If she was brutally honest with herself, the mystery of Mark had been the true attraction in the beginning. The mystery and the fairy tale and the money.

She had paid for that attraction. Dearlya The sound of chairs skidding across the floor brought her out of her own head. The meeting was over and the partic.i.p.ants were standing up and doing the supportive huggy thinga"which meant she needed to get out fast before she became entangled.

It was one thing to listen to them; another to feel them against her.

That she couldnat handle.

Rising to her feet, she slung her bag onto her shoulder and beelined for the door. On the way out, she said some quick, detail-less things to the others, and as always, got those looks Christians bestowed on the less fortunate, all poor, dear girl.

She had to wonder whether they would have been so generous with the support if they knew where she went and what she did after these meetings. She wanted to believe it would have been no different. Couldnat help but doubt it, though.

Out in the hall, there were others gathering for the next meeting of the night, which shead heard was a Narcotics Anonymous group that had recently started congregating at St. Patrickas. Everyone was cordial, the two sets of troubled mingling as the room handoff occurred.

Searching in her purse to find her car keys, shea"

Slammed into a wall of a man.

aOh, Iam so sorry!a She looked up, way up, into a pair of lionas eyes. aI, eraa aEasy, there.a The man steadied her and gave her a small, gentle smile. His hair was as spectacular as that yellow stare, all different kinds of colors that flowed onto his huge shoulders. aYou okay?a aAhaa Shead seen him before, not only out in the hallway but also at ZeroSum, and had marveled at his unreal looks, thinking maybe he was a model. And naturally, part of her worried that he knew what she did for a living, but he never seemed awkward with her or skeevy in the slightest.

Besides, if he was attending NA, he had some demons of his own to confront.

aMaaam? h.e.l.lo?a aOhaG.o.d, sorry. Yes, Iam finea"I just really need to watch where Iam going.a With a smile back to him, she ducked into the stairwell, headed up to the cathedralas first floor and left through those big double doors in front. Out on the street, she hustled past the rows of cars that were parallel-parked and wished shead gotten a better spot. Her Camry was down quite a way, and she was biting on her molars from the cold by the time she jumped in and started the ritual of getting the engine to turn over.

aCome onacome onaa Finally she got a wheeze and a vroom and then she was doing an illegal U-turn over the double yellow line that ran down the middle of the street.

Caught up in her own head, she failed to notice the pair of headlights that slipped into her wakeaand stayed there.

CHAPTER 9.

As Jim parked his truck a half a block from the Commodore, he thought, Yup, he could see Vin having a crib there. The outside of the building was stark, nothing but gla.s.s bezel set into thin steel girders, but that was what would give each of the condos such incredible views. And just from what he could see of the lobby from the street, the inside was pure decadence, all flood-lit, bloodred marble, with a flower arrangement the size of a fire truck smack in the middle of the s.p.a.ce.

Also made sense that Blue Dress would live in a place like this.

s.h.i.+t, he should have suggested just he and diPietro go out somewhere together to eat: With what had happened the night before still so vivid, being in the same enclosed s.p.a.ce with that woman was not the brightest idea. And then, h.e.l.lo, there was the complication of his having to save her f.u.c.king boyfriend from eternal d.a.m.nation.

Killing the engine, he rubbed his face and for some reason thought of Dog, who head left at home all curled up on the messy bed. The little guy had been out like a light, his thin flank rising and falling, his full belly a ball his little legs had to splay around.

How in the h.e.l.l had he managed to pick up a pet?

Putting his keys into his leather jacket, he left the truck and went across the street. As he pushed his way into the lobby, what had looked lush from the street was magnificent up close, but there was going to be no loitering to admire the place. The instant he walked in, the guard behind the desk looked up with a frown.

aGood eveninga"are you Mr. Heron?a The guy was fiftyish and dressed in a black uniform, his eyes neither slow nor stupid. Chances were good he was armed and knew how to handle what he was packing.

Jim had to approve. aYeah, I am.a aMay I see some identification, please?a Jim got out his wallet and flipped it open to the New York State driveras license head bought about three days after head arrived in Caldwell.

aThank you. Iall call Mr. diPietro.a The guard was two seconds on the phone, and then he swept his arm toward the elevators. aGo right up, sir.a aThanks.a The ride to the twenty-eighth floor was smooth as silk, and Jim amused himself by locating the mostly hidden eyes of the security cameras: The things were positioned in the upper corners where the gold mirrored panels came together, and they were made to look like decorations. With the four of them, no matter which way someone was facing, theread be a clean shot at his or her face.

Nice. Very nice.

The bing that announced Jimas arrival was just as discreet, and as the doors parted, Vin diPietro was right there, standing in a long ivory hallway, looking like he owned the whole frickina building.

DiPietro put out his palm. aWelcome.a Guy had a solid handshake, firm and quick, and he looked greata"also not a surprise. Whereas Jim was in his second-best flannel s.h.i.+rt and sporting a fresh shave, Vin was in a different suit than head had on a mere three hours ago at the hospital.

Probably just wore the things once and threw them away.

aYou mind if I call you Jim?a aNope.a DiPietro led the way over to a door and opened the way intoas.h.i.+t, the place was right out of the Donald Trump collection, nothing but black marble, gold curlicues, crystal c.r.a.p, and carved statutes. From the floors of the front hall, to the stairs that led up to a second levelaand then, yeah, what was laid down in the living room, there was so much cut and finished stone, Jim had to wonder how many quarries had been stripped to kit the place out. And the furnitureaChrist, the sofas and chairs looked like jewelry, with all of their gold leafing and gemstone-colored silk.

aDevina, come meet our guest,a diPietro called over his shoulder.

As the sound of high-heeled shoes came toward the living room, Jim stared out at a truly stunning view of Caldwellaand tried not to think of when head seen the woman last.

She had on the same perfume shead worn the night before.

And how fitting her name was. Shead certainly felt divine.

aJim?a diPietro said.

Jim waited a moment longer, to give her time to look at the side of his face and compose herself. Seeing him from far away was one thing; having him in her home, close enough to touch, was another. Was she in blue again?

No, red. And diPietro had his arm around her waist.

Jim nodded at her, refusing to let even one memory enter his head. aNice to meet you.a She smiled at him and extended her hand. aWelcome. I hope you like Italian food?a Jim shook her palm quickly and then stuffed his hand in the pocket of his jeans. aYeah, I do.a aGood. The cook is off for the next week, and Italian is pretty much all I can do.a s.h.i.+t. Now what.

In the silence that followed, the three of them stood around as if they were all wondering the same thing.

aIf youall excuse me,a Devina said, aIall just go check on dinner.a Vin dropped a kiss on her mouth. aWeall have drinks here.a As the clipping of those high heels receded, diPietro went over to a wet bar. aWhatas your poison?a Interesting question. In Jimas old line of work, head used cyanide, anthrax, tetrodotoxin, ricin, mercury, morphine, heroin, as well as some of the new designer nerve agents. Head injected the stuff, put it in food, dusted it on doork.n.o.bs, sprayed it on mail, contaminated all manner of drink and medications. And that was before head gotten really creative.

Yup, he was as good with all that as he was with a knife or a gun or his bare hands. Not that diPietro needed to know it.

aDonat suppose you have any beer?a Jim said, glancing at all of the top-shelf liquor bottles.

aIave got the new Dogfish. Itas fantastic.a Right, Jim had been thinking a Bud, and G.o.d only knew what that wasa"neither dogs nor fish were something you wanted brewing with hops. But whatever. aSounds good.a DiPietro fired up two long gla.s.ses and opened a panel that turned out to be a mini-fridge. Grabbing a pair of bottles, he popped off the caps and poured out a dark beer with a head so white it looked like ocean foam.

aI think youall like this.a Jim accepted one of the gla.s.ses along with a little linen napkin that had the initials V.S.dP. on it. A single sipaand all he could say was, ad.a.m.n.a aGood, right?a DiPietro took a draw and then lifted the beer to the light as if inspecting its character. aItas the best.a aStraight from Heaven.a As Jim savored what was pa.s.sing over his tongue, he looked around with fresh eyes at all the fancy-dancy. Maybe the rich did have a something going on. aSo, this is a h.e.l.l of a place you got.a aThe bluff house is going to be even more magnificent.a Jim wandered over to the banks of gla.s.s and leaned into the view. aWhy would you want to leave this?a aBecause where Iam going is better.a A subtle doorbell-like chiming went off, and Jim glanced down at a phone.

Vin looked over as well. aThatas my business line and I have to take it.a With his beer in his hand, he headed for a doorway on the opposite side of the room. aMake yourself at home. Iall be right back.a As the guy walked off, Jim laughed to himself. Home here? Riiiiiiight. He felt like he was part of one of those childrenas quizzes where the kid had to pick out the object that didnat belong: carrot, cuc.u.mber, apple, zucchini. Answer: apple. Silk-covered sofa, fine woven rug, workman, crystal decanters. Answer: duh.

aHi.a Jim closed his eyes. Her voice was still lovely. aHi.a aIaa Jim pivoted around and was not surprised to find that her eyes were still sad.

As she struggled for words, he held up his hand to stop her. aYou donat have to explain.a aIaveaIave never done anything like last night before. I just wantedaa aSomething that was very not him?a Jim shook his head as she grew agitated. aOhas.h.i.+talook, donat cry.a He put down the beer diPietro had poured for him and came forward holding out the napkin. He would have dabbed at her tears himself, but he didnat want to smudge the makeup.

Devinaas hand trembled as she took what he offered. aIam not going to tell him. Ever.a aAnd heas not finding out from me.a aThank you.a Her eyes drifted over to the phone console, where a light was flas.h.i.+ng next to the word study. aI love him. I doa. Itas justaheas complicated. Heas aacomplicated man, and I know he cares for me in his own way, but sometimes I feel invisible. And you? You actually saw me.a Yeah, he had. He couldnat deny it.

aThe truth is,a she murmured, aalthough I shouldnat have been with you, I donat regret it.a He wasnat so sure of that, given the way she stared up at him like she was waiting for words of wisdom oraabsolution. Which he really couldnat give her. Head never been in a relations.h.i.+p before, so it wasnat like he could offer advice about her and Vina"and he only knew from one-night stands, so what might be shocking to her was all he had experience with when it came to s.e.x.

One thing was clear, though. As this spectacular woman looked at him with those dark, luminescent eyes, he saw the love she had for the man she was with: It was in her heart, radiating out of her.

Man, Vin diPietro was a full-load idiot to f.u.c.k this up.

Jim lifted his hand to her face and brushed off one of her tears. aListen to me. Youare going to forget it ever happened. Youare going to lock it away and never think about it again, okay? If you donat remember it, itas not real. It didnat happen.a She sniffled a little. aOkayaall right.a aGood girl.a Jim tucked a strand of her soft hair behind her ear. aAnd donat worry, everythingas going to be okay.a aHow can you be so sure.a And that was when it dawned on him. Maybe this was Vinas crossroadsa"right here in front of the man, wanting to love him, hoping to get the chance, but losing the fight to stay connected. If the guy could just see what he had, and not as in his real estate or his cars or his statues and marble, but what really mattered, maybe head turn his life and soul around.