Eliza stuffed Linda Anderson’s audition tape in her carry bag, on the off chance that she would have time to look at it at home. Something was always coming up at the office and she wanted to take fifteen minutes and view the tape without interruption.
She said good night to Paige, delighted to see the blue cashmere turtleneck was so becoming on her assistant, and hurried down to the waiting car. Traffic wasn’t too bad and in forty-five minutes she was home. It was just eight o’clock.
The HoHoKus police had set a loose curfew of nine P.M. Then they would cruise neighborhoods, telling trick-or-treaters to head on home. Eliza had promised Janie she could stay up until then so they could give out the Butter-fingers together.
The doorbell rang only sporadically. Two pirates and a young Tinkerbell, escorted by their parents who waited on the street out front Some teenaged girls, laughing and wearing their cheerleading uniforms. A group of adolescent boys, with no costumes at all, as far as Eliza could tell. Baggy jeans, oversized flannel workshirts and untied Timberlands were probably what they’d worn to school today.
In between the callers, Janie sorted through the candy she had collected with James on their afternoon foray through the neighborhood. The packages of gum were definite keepers. So were the M&Ms, Snickers bars and Milk Duds. Anything with coconut Janie offered to her mother.
At nine on the dot, Eliza announced that it was time to go to bed. No more trick-or-treaters would be coming tonight.
A dark-faced scarecrow stood in the crowd of revelers on Sixth Avenue in New York City’s Greenwich Village. In the mayhem of hooded ghosts and goblins and men dressed as women and women dressed as men, Abigail was surrounded by life, but felt totally alone.
The story on Linda tonight was haunting her. All of Linda’s lost promise. Five years had gone by and still it was so sad.
Abigail didn’t want to pretend she was having a good time. Not tonight.
She hung back on the congested sidewalk as the rest of the group surged forward. It was easy to slip away from her friends.
Eliza tucked Janie into bed and went to her own room to change into a loose-fitting sweater and pair of jeans. Then she came downstairs and went to the kitchen. The refrigerator held the dinner Mrs. Garcia had left for her, but she wasn’t in the mood to eat a big meal this late. Instead she took out a wedge of cheddar cheese and sliced off a few pieces on the cutting board. She tossed a handful of crackers onto the plate and poured a glass of white wine, ready to look at the audition tape.
In the den, she was pulling the black plastic box from her bag when the doorbell rang. A late trick-or-treater, she thought as she went to answer the door, leaving the tape cm the desk.
“Samuel!” she said with surprise. “Come on in.”
Jimmy Willis crouched behind a tree and waited as the police patrol car passed.
Tough. This curfew was stupid and he was determined to hit a few more houses before he went home for the night His mother was already ticked off at him for being hauled into the station last night after the cops caught him egging the neighbors’ house. She had forbidden him to go out tonight, but it had been a cinch to sneak out anyway. Might as well have some good loot in his bag for his pains—and the grounding that was sure to come.
The fourteen-year-old waited until the red taillights were out of sight. He came out from his hiding place and continued down Saddle Ridge Road.
Samuel looked like he had lost his best friend as he sat on the sofa in her den. Eliza’s heart went out to him.
“I can’t eat I can’t sleep. I feel terrible without you in my life.”
The phone rang, buying Eliza time. Saved by the bell. What was she going to say to make him feel better?
“Excuse me, Samuel.” Eliza walked over to the desk and picked up the receiver. A proud new father was on the other end of the line.
“Congratulations, Keith! That’s wonderful. How is Cindy?” Eliza could feel Samuel watching her as she listened to Keith’s response. She picked up the audition tape and began to fiddle with the box.
“C-section? Oh, that’s too bad. But better that than something happening to the baby.”
Absentmindedly Eliza clicked the box open and then closed it again.
“Nine pounds? Wow! That’s a big fella. Have you named him yet?”
Keith told her his son’s name, but it did not register. Eliza had opened the box and looked at the label affixed to the video cartridge.
Under Linda Anderson’s name was that of her business representative. The agent was named Samuel Morton.
Abigail scrubbed the brown makeup from her face and changed into sweats. While she didn’t want to be part of the Halloween craziness on the streets, she didn’t want to sit in all by herself, either. She went out to see if she could find a quiet bar.
The tiny eyes were clamped shut, the rosebud mouth opened, emitting a tiny yawn. Perfect ears, perfect nose and, wrapped snugly beneath the cotton receiving blanket, perfect fingers and perfect toes.
Robert Keith Chapel, his son.
Keith gazed at the miracle that lay in his wife’s arms.
Cindy looked up at her husband and their eyes locked in mutual understanding.
It had all been worth it. Now they could move forward, together, as a family.
Cindy had been through so much and Keith hoped she could forgive him for the way he had behaved and, eventually, he hoped he would be able to forgive himself.
Eliza tried to remember. Hadn’t she told Samuel about the FRESHER LOOK she was working on? Yes. She had, that night at dinner at Esty Street. He hadn’t remarked on it.
She wanted desperately to give Samuel the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t think she had mentioned Linda Anderson. Maybe he hadn’t made the connection. But even if she hadn’t mentioned Linda by name, the case she had described to Samuel should have provoked a response from him about the anchorwoman he had represented.
Eliza’s spine stiffened. She needed time to think. Perhaps it was another Samuel Morton. She took her seat across from Samuel.
“Where were we?” she asked.
“I was telling you how miserable I am without you. Please, Eliza, isn’t there some way you’ll reconsider? We can go slowly. I promise, I won’t push things. But I need to know that we can still see each another.”
“We can, Samuel, as long as you know that it will be as friends.”
That was not the answer Samuel wanted. He winced as though Eliza had struck him.
“Come,” she urged, rising from her chair. “Let’s go into the kitchen and get you a drink.”
She had just finished filling his glass with wine when the telephone rang again. “I don’t want to let it go,” she apologized. “It might wake Janie.”
Samuel nodded glumly.
“Ms. Blake? This is Bob Lieber from Sloan-Kettering. I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling you at home.”
“No, not at all. How are you?”
“Concerned. I’m here in my office working late tonight. Our counseling department ran your friend’s daughter’s name through our computer.”
“Yes?”
“Over the last six months, no one named Sarah Morton has been admitted to this hospital.”
One more house and that was it. Jimmy was going to stop pressing his luck. That TV newswoman should be good for some decent candy.
He tossed away his forbidden cigarette and walked up to the brightly-lit colonial, pushed the bell and waited. The door didn’t open.
Someone was home. Jimmy knew it.
He lifted the door knocker and slammed it insistently.
“Don’t answer that.”
“It will just take a minute, Samuel.”
“I’m telling you, Eliza. Don’t answer it.”
She wanted to run to the front door and fling it open, escaping into the dark night. But Janie . . . Janie was upstairs. She couldn’t leave her little girl behind.
Eliza was stunned at the depth of Samuel’s deception. There had to be a mistake. No Sarah Morton had been in the cancer hospital. Why had Samuel lied about that? She couldn’t think of a reason.
And then the truly awful fear occurred to her. What if there never had been a child?
But she had seen the girl’s picture on the album of letters Samuel had given her. There was a definite resemblance between the child and Samuel.
A visceral fear rose.
What if Samuel Morton had been Linda Anderson’s killer?
Who did this woman think she was? Would it kill her to open the door and throw out a piece of candy into his pillowcase? His mother thought it was so cool that this big shot had moved to town. Jimmy was unimpressed.
Jimmy tried the bell one more time and waited until he heard a car coming up the street Cops. He ducked behind the bushes beneath the front window.
By the time the police sedan passed, Jimmy had made up his mind. If the homeowner didn’t give him a treat, he would give her a little trick. He pulled his weapon from the pillowcase.
He peeked into the front window and looked into the living room. Seeing no one inside, he did a good soap job on the small panes.
But he was still ticked off. He went to the other side and peered into the library. Again, no one there. Angrily he smeared the glass.
Why not finish the job? Emboldened, Jimmy walked quickly to the backyard. The lights were on in the kitchen and from the side window he could see a man and a woman.
He should hightail it out of there.
But what Jimmy saw mesmerized him. He recognized the woman from TV. She was standing with her back to the counter. The man was pacing up and down. While the man wasn’t looking, the anchorwoman picked up a knife from the countertop and slid it under her sweater, into the back of her jeans.
She had to get Samuel out of the house. She couldn’t let him know what she suspected and she had to get him away from Janie.
Eliza pretended to take a sip of her wine. “Samuel, maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe we can work things out I’m so confused. I have to think.” Eliza ran her fingers through her hair.
Samuel looked at her hopefully.
“Let’s go for a walk around the pond and clear our heads,” she suggested.
“And leave Janie?”
“She’ll be okay for a little while. We won’t go far. Come on.” She reached out and took his cold hand. “Some fresh air will do us both good.”
Holy cripes!
Where were the police when you needed them?
Jimmy ran down Saddle Ridge Road and, for the first time in his life, he prayed he would run into a police car.
He didn’t.
They said it happened this way sometimes.
You met someone and, instantly, you knew.
Abigail studied the face of the young woman who sat on the bar stool beside her. For the first time in months, she didn’t think about Eliza.
The pond was peaceful in the reflected autumn moonlight.
Eliza used all her willpower not to recoil as Samuel put his arm around her shoulders. Better there than around her waist.
“Do you really think we can work things out?” he asked softly.
“I’m sure we can,” she lied.
Why doesn’t a car drive by? Please, God. Let somebody come. Please, please, please.
Samuel stopped walking and turned her toward him.
“I love you, Eliza.” He lifted her chin and leaned forward to kiss her. She kissed him back. Her life depended on it.
“And just where have you been, young man?” Jimmy’s mother demanded angrily.
“Mom! Mom! We have to call the police!”
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough of the police lately?”
“You don’t understand, Mom.”
“I understand perfectly well. I’m sick and tired of your antics. I told you not to leave your room. Now, you’re grounded.”
Jimmy pounded up to his room and flopped onto the bed. He should let the whole thing go, but he couldn’t He picked up the phone extension and called information and then asked the number for the HoHoKus police.
His adolescent voice cracked as he began to tell his story.
“Who is this?” demanded the desk sergeant.
“Jim Willis.”
‘The kid who was in here last night?”
“Yeah. But don’t worry about that now. I’m telling you, you better get over to that anchorwoman’s house on Saddle Ridge Road. This guy and her were in the kitchen and I saw her sneaking a big knife behind her back. It looked real scary in there.”
“Yeah, kid, sure. Happy Halloween.”
Eliza didn’t close her eyes but watched as Samuel opened his, midway through the kiss. He pulled his mouth from hers.
‘What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Eliza’s right hand moved to the back of her jeans.
“You know, don’t you, Eliza?”
“Know what?”
Her hand felt for the handle of the knife.
“About me.”
“What about you, Samuel?” She couldn’t keep her voice from quivering now. Why didn’t someone come? If she screamed, no one might hear her and Samuel would know that she was on to him.
“Don’t lie to me, Eliza. I can tell you’re lying now. I have watched you for far too long. I watched you in the mornings when you were anchoring KEY to America. I’ve watched you these past months on the Evening Headlines. I’ve taped you and watched you over and over again. I can tell when you are lying.”
“Lying about what, Samuel?”
“You know there is no Sarah, Eliza. I know you do. Don’t play coy with me. I made her up to get to you.”
“But I saw her picture,” Eliza answered. “She looks just like you.”
“That was a picture of my brother Leo’s daughter.”
Eliza gripped the knife handle.
“I had to find a way to reach you, Eliza. I knew we were meant for each other, and I hoped you would come to see it, too. It was going so well. We were getting closer. You were confiding in me. But you blew it. You ruined it.”
Eliza’s mind raced.
Linda had thought she was being stalked but when the police began escorting her, no one had bothered her. Had Linda confided in her agent, unwittingly alerting Samuel that it wasn’t safe to follow her while the police were protecting her?
“I hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this.” Samuel looked at the gleaming pond. “But you love the water, just as I do—just as Linda did. The water is a tranquil, final resting place. I think so often of Linda. How wonderful to be at rest in the vast Atlantic Ocean.”
“Is that where Linda is, Samuel?”
He shrugged. “Why not? I guess I can tell you—you won’t be telling anyone now. Yes, Linda’s tomb is off the coast of Sandy Hook. I like to think she’s at peace near the place where we had walked so happily together.”
“Surely Linda’s body would have washed up somewhere, Samuel.” Eliza tried to keep her voice steady.
“Give me some credit, Eliza. I took Linda from my trunk and strapped her to a good strong air raft and tied some weights on for good measure. Then, just before I launched Linda’s funeral bed into the dark sea, I made a small slit in the raft. I watched in the moonlight as Linda floated out and then sank beneath the waves.”
Eliza’s decision was made. In one quick movement she thrust the knife up into Samuel’s side.
The police sergeant would bet a week’s pay that the Willis kid was lying. The teenager would get some perverse thrill having a squad car rush out on a false alarm.
But what if the kid was telling the truth? There’d be hell to pay if it got out that they hadn’t followed up on this.
He had better send a car out.
Samuel cried out in pain as he lunged for Eliza’s neck. His grip had the strength of a crazy person. Eliza struggled to break free but he was too strong.
What could she do?
She managed to knee him in the groin. Eliza felt his hands loosen and she was able to break away. But the force of her blow had not been great enough to bring him to his knees. She ran as fast as she had ever run in her life, hearing the leather-soled shoes pounding on the macadam behind her. Despite the bleeding wound in his side, he was gaining on her.
Then she heard Samuel groan as he slipped and fell to the pavement. The goose droppings gave her precious extra seconds.
Should she run to the Feeneys’?
That would leave Janie alone. If she could just get into the house, she could call the police. But Samuel was so enraged, he could easily force himself inside.
Instinctively she went back to be near her child. Eliza locked the door behind her and ran to the phone. The emergency numbers were glued on the receiver. She dialed as fast as she could and after only one ring she heard, “HoHoKus Police.”
The squad car got the radio call and obediently headed toward Saddle Ridge Road.
“It could be a prank, but you better check it out anyway.”
The car was blocks away from Eliza’s house when the second call came on the radio.
“Suspect armed and dangerous. Sending backup.”
Eliza waited, afraid to look out the window. Where were the police? Where were they?
If Samuel got in, she would face him herself.
With what? She cast about frantically.
She went to the fireplace and grabbed the iron-and-brass poker.
The wound ached painfully as Samuel lurched to the back of Eliza’s house and pulled back the heavy pool cover. Eliza would come to her end in the water after all. Then, with all the strength of a madman, he picked up one of the large rocks that lined the garden and smashed it through the kitchen door’s plate-glass window.
Eliza was waiting for him.
The police car sped into Eliza’s driveway. The patrolman ran up and banged on the front door and waited for an answer that did not come.
He pulled his gun, not knowing what he was going to be facing.
He had to wait for backup.
Samuel stepped over the shattered glass into the kitchen and listened carefully.
Where was she?
He stealthily walked through the dining room, the living room and into the den, leaving a trail of blood behind.
She must have gone upstairs to guard her baby.
With determination he climbed the stairs. When he reached the landing, he turned to check the hallway. Eliza’s waiting eyes met his.
With all her instinctive maternal strength, she brought the poker smashing down on top of his head, the blow sending him careening backwards down the stairs.
Eliza stood motionless as she heard footsteps and then watched the blue-uniformed men crouch down beside the crumpled, bleeding figure on the floor below.
Janie slept through the whole thing.