The Widow's Walk (21 page)

Either the man was an angel or a ghost. How did he know she was hungry, that she loved corn muffins and tea, light and sweet? “Thanks.”

Elisabeth recalled Edward’s brother hurrying away, leaving her on the train platform, and the unrelenting anxiety until she finally saw Edward three weeks later. Would she have to wait as long to find him again?

Eleven a.m. Still four hours to go. Time to let Eddie move around, eat, find a bathroom. She wanted a nap. She wanted a massage. She wanted this to be over.

Chapter 30

Mike rummaged through his drawers. The passport had to be here. They’d gathered everything last June when planning a honeymoon. The trip had never been taken, and now instead of a romantic jaunt through Italy or lazing on a Caribbean beach, he’d be trekking through London in the middle of winter. If he could find his passport. Would he find Liz? Would their marriage even last until their first anniversary?

He dumped the contents onto the bed.
Unsolved Mysteries: The Ghosts of Brewster, Massachusetts, by Sandra Kensington,
condoms, and a few pictures.
Did she hide the passport so I couldn’t come after her? No, she couldn’t be that calculating. Everything lately has been impulsive, irrational.

Just like Elisabeth.
Jared commandeered him again. That might come in useful when they got to London, but what if it went to the next step? He might find himself in the same position as Liz, under remote control by an angry ghost.

Passport, back to the passport. Where did she keep that box with all the important papers? Maybe in the closet.

His heart was as vacant as Eddie’s crib. Off in the corner, right next to the rack with all Elisabeth’s dresses, a hatbox lay open on a small table. The infamous green dress hung next to it, emanating an aura, right through the dry cleaning plastic, which raised prickles on the back of Mike’s neck. The arms, neckline and skirt, stuffed with paper, looked like a headless body, the bustle at full attention.

He rummaged through the hatbox, a shrine, next to the dresses. He found the small picture of Edward Liz once had on her nightstand. A yellowed, fragile news clipping tumbled out and fluttered to the floor, landing face up. A sensation like someone raked their fingernails over a blackboard ran down his back.

Elisabeth, demure, prim, in that very dress, a hat fashionably atop her head, sat in a carriage being drawn by two bay horses. Edward, in full dress uniform stood beside, beaming. Mike picked up the scrap.

Captain Edward Barrett, who commands The Sea Mist for the Somersell Shipping Company, welcomed his wife, the former Lady Elisabeth Baxter, daughter of the Earl of Camberley, England. Mrs. Barrett arrived in Massachusetts 7 July 1876.

Jared clapped Mike’s hands over his face. He’d met the comely Mrs. Barrett that very day, and fallen in love with her while visiting during Edward’s long absences, thinking he could never have her. The lost opportunity had been re-gifted, and he’d lost it again.

Maybe Elisabeth’s ghost would come tonight. She’d provided the clues, perhaps she’d divulge what Mike needed to find her, rather what Jared needed to find her.

He carefully tucked everything back into the box, and when he picked up the cover, his passport was sitting there. Had Liz left it there on purpose, or had she just forgotten to hide it while rushing? He tucked it into his pocket and went to collect some toiletries.

The phone rang. Mike contemplated not answering. No conversation with Jay Levine was ever pleasant, and he wasn’t in the diplomatic mood right now. But ignoring him might result in a visit just as they were about to leave for the airport tomorrow. “Hello.”

“Mike, it’s Jay.”

“Yeah, I know. Caller ID. What’s up?”

“Any word from my mother? We’re all getting pretty worried.”

“Oh, we are? Just who are we?”

“Mike, look, I don’t blame you for being pissed off, but I am really trying to fix this.”

“Haven’t you fixed things enough?”

“I screwed up bad, but if my mom won’t even talk to me how can I make amends?”

“I’m not even supposed to be talking to you. Unless it’s under oath. That was your doing, my friend.”

“Forget that for now, Mike. Marti says she has no idea where my mother was going. She sounded scared, and believe me, that woman doesn’t scare easily. I spoke to Marianne Hartley, too. She didn’t sound very happy either. Please don’t give me the same,’ I’ll call you as soon as I know anything’ line. I’m coming up to the Cape tomorrow.”

Crap!
“Well you’ll be mucking out stalls with Kevin. Mae and I are headed to London to meet your mother. She’s doing research for her book, and we’re going to have a quick getaway.”

The pause was long enough for Mike to imagine Jay staring at the phone, incredulous, given the state of their finances.

“Oh, so you’ve heard from her.”

“She went ahead so she can get the work out of the way before we arrive.” He still hadn’t said anything untrue.

“Is Eddie going?” Good thing this wasn’t a video conference.

“Liz would never leave your brother behind. Of course, he’s with her.”

“Okay, then will you tell her I called and am serious about resolving things once and for all?”

Mike couldn’t resist. “I’ll tell her, but I suggest you call off your lawyer or she isn’t going to speak to you without a subpoena.”

“Fair enough, Mike. When will you be back?”

“Not sure, it depends on how much work she gets done.” Now he was clambering onto the slippery slope. Time to get off the phone and call Marianne with the same cock and bull story. Now he had to tell her.

“Mike?” Jay was yelling into the phone.

He cut him off and dialed the lawyer. She answered on the first ring. “Mike, any word?”

“Yes, she’s on the way to London via JFK in New York to do some research for her book. Mae and I are leaving tomorrow to join her for a little getaway. We could all use a break right now.”

“London? You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“She has a desk appearance in Boston on Monday morning to answer the charges Bill has pressed against her. He alleges that she sneaked into his apartment building and threatened him. She has to be there.”

“Well, she won’t be.” It wasn’t funny, but yet it was.

“When does her flight leave?

He hesitated. Could Marianne turn back an international flight and have her dragged off for ridiculous allegations by a crook with a criminal indictment against him? Perhaps Liz wasn’t being as capricious as they thought. She’d had enough and wanted to get away from them all. He’d had enough and wanted to get away from them all, too.

“Mike?”

Lying to your attorney couldn’t be good. It was almost three anyway. “I’m looking. Here it is. British Airways flight 750 from New York-Kennedy to Heathrow. Scheduled to depart at 3 p.m. I’ll have her contact you when we meet up sometime Saturday.”
I hope
.

“If I can’t stop the flight then I can ask the judge to delay the appearance since I was not able to inform her before she left the U.S. Mike, this is getting serious. It makes it look like there is really something to these charges.”

“Getting serious? This has been serious for months. My poor wife is shredded, emotionally and physically. When is Jeffers going to start feeling some pain? And her son who, by the way, just called to assure me he’s trying to “fix” things?”

“Oh, Lord. What did you tell Jay?”

“That he shouldn’t come here because we were going on vacation, and he wasn’t welcome anyway.”

Marianne blew out her frustration. “Let me see if I can do anything about holding the flight. When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.” No more details or she might try and hold him and Mae up, too.

“I’ll be in touch.” She disconnected.

He put the receiver in the cradle. “The hell you will. No one is going to stop me from finding my wife.”

Eddie cruised up and down the aisle, between the chairs, watching passengers arrive and depart, planes taxi in and out.

“Pane!” He’d learned a new word.

In her old world, this would be a journal entry. But she’d never forget this day.

“Yes, sweetie, and we’re going on a plane. Soon.” Liz checked her watch. 2:10 p.m. “Passenger Elizabeth Keeny, please come to the desk.”

“Oh, no.” She fumbled to get her things together, grab Eddie, left her laptop and ran back to retrieve it.

“Yes?”

“Ah, Ms. Keeny. Just to verify we’ve got a spot for the baby. Have you an approved seat?”

“Right there.” She exhaled.

“Very good. We’ll be boarding shortly.”

Her phone vibrated–again. She listened to the three new voicemails.

Mike, edgy, sad. “I love you, honey. Please call me so we can work this out. I want to help.”

Jay, frustrated–as usual. “Mom, for God’s sake, call me. I’m trying to help, but no one will tell me anything.”

Marianne, totally pissed. “Liz, Mike says you’re headed to London via New York City. Please, call me first. There’s a complaint filed, and you’re scheduled to go before the judge Monday morning to answer Bill’s allegations that you sneaked into his apartment and threatened him. You’ve got to be there or they will issue a warrant. I can’t help if you don’t cooperate.”

So, everyone wanted to help. So, Bill Jeffers was a scumbag. So, Mike had figured out where she was headed and tipped everyone off. So, the police might be here any minute. So, why did she listen to the damn messages? Her heart beat like a bird trying to escape from its cage.

“Attention passengers, we’re about to begin boarding British Airways Flight 750, with nonstop service to London, Heathrow. At this time, we’d like to invite our first class passengers, those traveling with young children, and anyone needing assistance to board the aircraft through Gate 15.”

Liz grabbed Eddie and stuffed him into the stroller. He fought the harness.

“Time for the plane.” She draped the carry-ons over the handles, heaved up the car seat up one more time, and headed for the jetway.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea to allow the bag lady with the squalling baby through.

“Passport and boarding passes, please.” Were all Brits so cheery?

The woman examined them with far greater detail than she had the passengers getting on before her. She studied the photos, then read some more. Had Marianne asked them to intercept her?

“Very good. Put this tag on the stroller and leave it at the end of the jetway. Have a great flight.” She reached down and picked up Eddie, who eyed her suspiciously but stopped crying.

Liz would have run if the brace hadn’t slipped and started digging into her calf. Her hands shook. The gods must be on her side, or was it the ghosts?

“Well would you look at this big boy?” The flight attendant in first class fussed over Eddie and handed Liz a bag. “Some crayons for the tyke. Let me carry that for you.”

She led the way to the bulkhead area and fastened Eddie’s seat. “Lots of space for him to move about. Not much for storage. Will you need the laptop or should I stow it there for you?” She pointed to an overhead compartment on the other side.

“I can get it later, if need be.” Liz buckled Eddie in and gratefully allowed her to take the bags. “The diaper bag is right in front, the computer tucked in so it won’t rattle about. Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a cocktail, and milk for the baby?”

“Later for the cocktail, but I will take some milk when you have a chance.” She needed a strong drink but not until they were airborne and she could relax her vigilance.

The woman quickly set to helping other passengers streaming aboard. Eddie fought the seat, and Liz wished for the milk to help settle him. She dug the iPod out of her purse and put on his music.

“Da.” He ripped the plugs out of his ears.

“I wish Da was here, too.” Liz stroked Eddie’s face to try and calm him.

Soon you’ll meet your real father.
Elisabeth’s focus remained sharp.

Liz fought back and held her phone up to the baby’s ear to replay Mike’s last message. The baby smiled, settled in with Lori Berkner again.

Wait, a text now won’t be an issue. She addressed the transcript of the voice to text of her and Bill’s interchange to Marianne.
On my way to London. Already on board, doors about to close. The doorman announced me. Bill asked him to allow me up. He was drunk. Nothing happened, as attached demonstrates. Will advise you when I return to the US
. She saved it to drafts.

“Here, Eddie, talk to Da.” Eddie looked at Mike’s picture on the phone and gurgled something. Liz prepared a message for him, through Mae. “We’re fine. Please, don’t worry. All I seem to be able to say these days is sorry.”

The attendant passed by with a box of milk. Eddie gladly accepted it and sucked greedily. Every passenger looked at her as they passed.

A man in a dark suit stopped next to her. “Excuse me.”

Liz’s stomach lurched. “Yes?”

“I’m by the window.”

She stood to let the businessman pass, noting his look of distaste. Sitting next to a baby on a long flight wasn’t for everyone.

The flight attendants closed the doors and took their positions. The routine robotic instructions. The plane backed up. Liz sent the messages to Marianne and Mike, then turned off the phone for the duration of her actual and metaphorical flight.

The plane stopped on the runway and taxied off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re being held while they clear up a backlog due to some cross winds and runway closures. This is Kennedy Airport, after all. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

There didn’t seem to be any wind or any other planes around. They had to be coming for her. She shouldn’t have sent those messages. Why had she broken her rule? Liz craned her neck to check if anything was happening outside but couldn’t see past the man at the window seat. He looked at her askance.
Yeah, I am crazy, mister. But you’re stuck with me until they pull me off kicking and screaming.