Starter House(112)

“I remember,” he said, “Mama lay down for a nap, she was so tired.”

“And then?”

But the door opened and Eric came in with the October wind around him, yellow leaves scurrying at his feet. Lex wailed and pushed himself away from Lacey, and the moment passed, the memory unspoken.





Chapter Fifty

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Lacey asked. She’d known the truth, but it was gone, blown out in the sudden wind.

“What’s going on here?” Eric said. “What is this guy doing in my house?”

“Visiting,” Lex said. He scrambled away from Lacey on his knees. “She made me come here. I didn’t want to.”

“You. I’ll talk to you later. Lacey, where have you been?”

“Next door, at Harry’s.”

“And don’t you ever answer your phone? That’s what it’s for, so I can get in touch with you. I’ve been calling and calling.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and speed-dialed two to show her. Lacey’s cell phone tinkled the “Ode to Joy” on the kitchen counter. “You went out of the house and didn’t take it with you?”

“I was in a hurry.” She couldn’t remember why. Eric was so loud and so sudden. Couldn’t he just shut up and listen? She almost had the answer. “I didn’t have time.”

“How much time does it take to pick up the damn phone?” Eric turned to Lex. “And you. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? Why did you take that baby out of that car?”

“Jeanne left her all alone, all by herself alone in the dark! What could I do?”

“You could have called 911. You could have called me, for God’s sake. You had Jeanne right where you want her. Child endangerment, neglect, the whole nine yards, that was your whole custody case in that parking lot, and you took the baby, why?”

“I don’t know,” Lex said. “I don’t know what I did.”

Something changed in the air. Lacey looked up, already knowing what she would see, and Drew was there, standing at the top of the stairs. Though he looked as solid as ever, the light from the porthole window flowed through him unimpeded, casting a block of white on the red carpet on every step. “Can you stop, please stop?” Lacey said.

“What were you thinking?” Drew said.

“What were you thinking?” Eric said to Lacey.

“Listen to yourself,” Lacey said. “These aren’t your thoughts. He’s trying to control you, can’t you feel it? Get out of here now.” Hopeless; she’d never felt Drew’s approach, there was no way Eric could resist.

“All you have to do is take care of the baby,” Drew said.

“All you have to do is take care of the baby,” Eric said.

Lex pressed his hands over his face and ran up the stairs. Drew flicked out of sight. He reappeared halfway down and said, “I gave up everything for you.”

“I gave up everything for you,” Eric said.

Lacey couldn’t let that pass. “No, you didn’t. This is our life together. Our money, our house, our baby—we did it all together. It’s what we both wanted. Nobody gave up anything. Eric, don’t listen to him!”

“I take care of everything for you,” Drew said.

“Don’t say it.”

“I take care of everything for you,” Eric said.

She turned to run for the door, but he was too quick for her, both of them were too quick. Eric caught her arm just on the elbow and squeezed it hard. Drew said and Eric echoed him—and now the echo came closer, so that she was hearing them both at once, converging—“I want you to understand what you’ve done.” They said the last word together, and Drew disappeared. Lacey and Eric were alone, at the foot of the stairs. “Come and see,” he said, pulling her toward the stairs.

She swung her fist against the side of his head—a soft and clumsy blow, because he was still Eric, and she couldn’t hurt him—but it was enough to surprise him. He let her go, and she ran for the kitchen. She had a second or two, she’d never reach the front door. Long enough to reach the drawer beside the sink. She pulled out a knife at random—a vegetable peeler, no—and the second knife she seized was the spare chef knife, still new, in its cardboard sleeve. She whirled and held it out in front of her just as Eric reached her. He stopped. She waved the knife, absurdly sheathed in white cardboard. She’d entered the house ready to die if she had to—maybe, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary—but she couldn’t let Drew use Eric as he had used Beth Craddock. What it must have been like for Beth, when Drew stepped out of her body and she realized what her hands had done, no, she’d do anything to spare Eric that. If she could separate them, surprise Drew out of Eric—if she could ask Eric a question Drew couldn’t answer, if she could do for Eric what Ella Dane had done for her, she could save him.