65

Kerry had intended to leave the office early so she could be at Dr. Smith’s office just after his last appointment. She had changed her mind, however, realizing that it would be better to wait until she had a better perspective on Dr. Smith’s relationship with his daughter. She also wanted to be home with Robin.

Mrs. Reardon believed that Smith’s attitude toward Suzanne was “unhealthy,” she thought.

And Frank Green had remarked on how Smith had been totally unemotional on the stand.

Skip Reardon had said his father-in-law wasn’t around their house much, that when Suzanne saw him, they usually met alone.

I need to talk to someone who knew these people and who has no axe to grind, Kerry thought. I’d also like to talk to Mrs. Reardon again, more calmly. But what can I say to her? That a mobster who happens to be on trial right now was known to call Suzanne Sweetheart when he played golf with her? That a golf caddie sensed that there might be something going on between them?

Those disclosures might only nail Skip Reardon’s coffin a little more tightly shut, she reasoned. As a prosecutor I could argue that even if Skip wanted a divorce so he could get back together with Beth, it would have infuriated him if he had learned that Suzanne was running around with a multimillionaire while charging three-thousand-dollar Saint Laurent suits to him.

She was just leaving the office at five o’clock when Bob phoned. She caught the tension in his voice. “Kerry, I need to stop by for a few minutes. Will you be home in an hour or so?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, and hung up.

What was bringing Bob to the house? she wondered. Concern about the picture of Robin she’d received? Or had he had an unexpectedly tough day in court? That was certainly possible, she told herself, remembering how Frank Green had commented that even without Haskell’s testimony the government would be able to convict Jimmy Weeks. She reached for her coat and slung her shoulder bag over her arm, remembering wryly how for the year and a half of her marriage, she had joyfully rushed home from work to spend the evening with Bob Kinellen.

When she arrived home, Robin looked at her accusingly. “Mom, why did Alison pick me up at school and drive me home? She wouldn’t give me a reason, and I felt like a jerk.”

Kerry looked at the sitter. “I won’t hold you up, Alison.

Thanks.”

When they were alone, she looked into Robin’s indignant face.

“That car that frightened you the other day…,” she began.

When she was finished, Robin sat very still. “It’s kind of scary, isn’t it, Mom?”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s why when you came home last night you looked all tired and beat up?”

“I hadn’t realized I looked quite that bad, but yes, I was pretty heartsick.”

“And that’s why Geoff came running up?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I wish you’d told me last night.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you, Rob. I was too uptight myself.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Take a lot of precautions that may be a nuisance until we find out who was across the street last Tuesday and why he was there.”

“Do you think if he comes back, he’ll run me over next time?”

Kerry wanted to shout, “No, I don’t.” Instead she moved over to the couch where Robin was sitting and put an arm around her.

Robin dropped her head on her mother’s shoulder. “In other words, if the car comes at me again, duck.”

“That’s why the car isn’t going to get the chance, Rob.”

“Does Daddy know about this?”

“I called him last night. He’s coming up in a little while.”

Robin sat upright. “Because he’s worried about me?”

She’s pleased, Kerry thought, as though Bob has done her a favor.

“Of course, he’s worried about you.”

“Cool. Mom, can I tell Cassie about this?”

“No, not now. You’ve got to promise, Robin. Until we know who’s pulling this-“

“And have cuffed him,” Robin interjected.

“Exactly. Once that’s done, then you can talk about it.”

“Okay. What are we going to do tonight?”

“Just crash. We’ll send out for pizza. I stopped on the way home and rented a couple of movies.”

The mischievous look Kerry loved came into Robin’s face. “R-rated, I hope.”

She’s trying to make me feel better, Kerry thought. She’s not going to let me know how scared she is.

At ten of six, Bob arrived. Kerry watched as, with a whoop of joy, Robin ran into his arms. “What do you think about me being in danger?” she asked.

“I’m going to let you two visit while I get changed,” Kerry announced.

Bob released Robin. “Don’t be long, Kerry,” he said hurriedly.

“I can only stay a few minutes.”

Kerry saw the instant pain on Robin’s face and wanted to throttle Kinellen. Toss her a little TLC for a change, she thought angrily. Struggling to keep her tone of voice even, she responded, “Down in a minute.”

She changed quickly into slacks and a sweater, but deliberately waited upstairs for ten minutes. Then, as she was about to come down, there was a knock at her door and Robin called, “Mom.”

“Come in.” Kerry started to say, “I’m ready,” when she saw the look on Robin’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Dad asked me to wait up here while he talks to you.”

“I see.”

Bob was standing in the middle of the study, obviously uncomfortable, obviously anxious to be gone.

He hasn’t bothered to take off his coat, Kerry thought. And what did he do to upset Robin? Probably spent the whole time telling her how rushed he was.

He turned when he heard her footsteps. “Kerry, I’ve got to get back to the office. There’s a lot of work I have to do for tomorrow’s session. But there’s something very important I have to tell you.”

He pulled a small sheet of paper out of his pocket. “You heard what happened to Barney Haskell and Mark Young?”

“Obviously.”

“Kerry, Jimmy Weeks has a way of getting information. I’m not sure how, but he does. For example, he knows that you went to see Reardon in prison Saturday.”

“Does he?” Kerry stared at her ex-husband. “What difference would that make to him?”

“Kerry, don’t play games. I’m worried. Jimmy is desperate. I just told you that he has a way of finding out things. Look at this.”

Kinellen handed her what seemed to be a copy of a note written on a six-by-nine-inch sheet torn from a pad. On it were six musical notes in the key of C, and underneath were the words, “I’m in love with you.” It was signed “J.”

“What’s this supposed to be?” Kerry asked, even as she mentally hummed the notes she was reading. Then, before Bob had a chance to answer, she understood, and her blood ran cold. They were the opening notes to the song “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.”

“Where did you get this and what does it mean?” she snapped.

“They found the original in Mark Young’s breast pocket when they went through his clothes at the morgue. It was Haskell’s writing, and on a sheet of paper torn from the pad next to Young’s phone. The secretary remembers putting a fresh pad there last night, so Haskell had to have jotted it down sometime between seven and seven-thirty this morning.”

“A few minutes before he died?”

“Exactly. Kerry, I’m certain it’s connected to the plea bargain Haskell was trying to make.”

“The plea bargain? You mean the homicide he was hinting he could connect to Jimmy Weeks was the Sweetheart Murder Case?” Kerry could not believe what she was hearing. “Jimmy was involved with Suzanne Reardon, wasn’t he? Bob, are you telling me that whoever took Robin’s picture and came within an inch of running her over works for Jimmy Weeks, and this is his way of scaring me off?”

“Kerry, I’m not saying anything except leave it alone. For Robin’s sake, leave it alone.”

“Does Weeks know you’re here?”

“He knows that, for Robin’s sake, I’d warn you.”

“Wait a minute.” Kerry looked at her former husband with disbelief. “Let me get this straight. You’re here to warn me off because your client, the thug and murderer you represent, has given you a threat, veiled or otherwise, to convey to me. My God, Bob, how low you have gone.”

“Kerry, I’m trying to save my child’s life.”

“Your child? All of a sudden she’s so important to you? Do you know how many times you’ve devastated her when you didn’t show up to see her? It’s insulting. Now get out.”

As he turned, she snatched the paper from his hand. “But I’ll take this.”

“Give that to me.” Kinellen grabbed her hand, forcing her fingers open and pulling the paper from her.

“Dad, let go of Mom!”

They both whirled to see Robin standing in the doorway, the fading scars bright once more against the ashen pallor of her face.

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