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Page 66
There was no reply.
“Ray?”
When he spoke again, his voice was different, softer and with a strange timber. “Are you still in Atlantic City?”
“No.”
“Can you come back down?”
“Why?”
More silence.
“Ray?”
“I didn’t tell you the truth,” he said.
Megan felt the chill. “I don’t understand.”
“Come back down.”
“I can’t. I mean, not now anyway.”
“I’ll wait inside Lucy. I don’t care how long it takes. Please come.”
“I don’t know.”
But he had already hung up. She stood there, staring down at the phone, until a sound snagged her attention. She looked up and saw Agnes wander out of her room, confused and blank eyed. Her gray hair was a complete mess. The skin of her face was pale past the point of translucent, the blue of the veins too visible.
When a nurse intercepted her, Agnes cried out, “Don’t hurt me!” and pulled away.
“I would never hurt you, Agnes. I’m just trying—”
“Stop!” Agnes cringed now as though she expected the nurse to strike her. Megan hurried down the hall and nudged the nurse out of the way. She looked her mother-in-law in the eyes, her hands on her shoulders, and said, “It’s okay, Agnes. It’s me. It’s Megan.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Megan?”
“Yes. It’s okay.”
Agnes cocked her head to the left. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you at home with the babies?”
“They’re not babies anymore. They’re teenagers. I’m here because you called me.”
“I did?” Fear crossed Agnes’s face. “When?”
“It’s not important. It’s okay now. I’m here. You’re safe.”
The nurse looked on sympathetically. Megan took Agnes in her arms and led her back into the room. Behind them, Missy Malek appeared, but Megan shook her off and closed the door. It took some time, but Megan got Agnes to calm down, to stop shaking and whimpering, and then, as had happened before, clarity came back to her mother-in-law’s eyes.
“Are you okay?” Megan asked her.
Agnes nodded. “Megan?”
“Yes.”
“Who were you on the phone with?” Agnes asked.
“When?”
“Just now. When I came out of my room. You were down the hall talking on the phone.”
Megan wasn’t sure how to respond. “Just an old friend.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, that’s okay, it’s just…” She stopped, fought back the tears. Agnes looked at her with such concern that Megan could actually feel something inside of her give way. “My whole life has been a lie.”
Agnes managed a smile and patted her hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Do you love my Davey?”
“Yes.”
“Megan?”
“What?”
“I know,” Agnes whispered in a voice that chilled the room.
“What?”
“Last week.”
“What about last week?”
“The day after Davey brought you to our house, I called Emerson College. You said you went there. But, well, something didn’t add up. So I called them. They never heard of you.”
Megan didn’t know what to say.
“I won’t tell.” The voice was a whisper again. “It’s okay, really. I lie about my age to Roland. I am three years older than him, but he doesn’t know. The truth is, you love my Davey. I know. You’re good for him. Not like those snotty, rich girls from town. Your secret’s safe with me, honey. I just ask one thing.”
A tear had escaped and ran down Megan’s cheek. “What?”
“Give me some grandchildren. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”
Agnes knew, Megan thought. All these years, this whole time, Agnes had known about the lie. The realization was almost too much to bear.
“Megan?”
“I promise.”
“No, not that.” Agnes’s eyes flickered. She looked toward the door. “They want to move me to the third floor, don’t they?”
“Yes. But you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“It won’t help.” She lowered her voice. “He will find me. Even there. He will find me and he will kill me.”
“Who?”
Agnes looked to her left, then to her right. She leaned in closer and locked eyes with Megan. “The bad man who comes at night.”
It was then that Megan remembered the spy camera in the digital clock. “Agnes?”
“Yes?”
“Was the bad man here last night?”
“Of course. That’s why I called you.”
Sometimes it was like dealing with a human TV set that kept changing channels. Megan pointed toward the clock. “Do you remember when I was here yesterday?”
Agnes started to smile. “The spy camera!”
“Yes.”
“So you can see him? You can see the bad man?”
“We can look.”
Megan had set the spy camera’s timer to run from nine P.M. until six in the morning. It didn’t record everything—it worked by motion detector—so it wasn’t as though they’d have to go through nine hours of material. Megan checked the back of the clock and saw the light was flashing. That meant there was something in the digital hard drive.
“I’ll be right back, Agnes.”
She hurried down the corridor and back to the front desk. She borrowed a laptop and came right back to the room. Agnes was still on the bed. The clock/camera worked via a USB port. She moved the camera to the bed and plugged it into the laptop. Agnes moved closer. The spy camera icon came up. Megan moved the cursor over it.
“If he was in your room,” Megan said, “we should see it now.”
“What’s going on here?”
They both looked toward the door. Missy Malek had entered, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed. She took in the whole scene—the two women on the bed, the clock/camera plugged into the laptop—and her eyes opened. “What is this?”
“It’s a surveillance camera,” Megan said.
“Excuse me?”
“A hidden camera. It’s built into the digital clock.”
Malek’s face reddened. “You can’t have that in here.”
“Ray?”
When he spoke again, his voice was different, softer and with a strange timber. “Are you still in Atlantic City?”
“No.”
“Can you come back down?”
“Why?”
More silence.
“Ray?”
“I didn’t tell you the truth,” he said.
Megan felt the chill. “I don’t understand.”
“Come back down.”
“I can’t. I mean, not now anyway.”
“I’ll wait inside Lucy. I don’t care how long it takes. Please come.”
“I don’t know.”
But he had already hung up. She stood there, staring down at the phone, until a sound snagged her attention. She looked up and saw Agnes wander out of her room, confused and blank eyed. Her gray hair was a complete mess. The skin of her face was pale past the point of translucent, the blue of the veins too visible.
When a nurse intercepted her, Agnes cried out, “Don’t hurt me!” and pulled away.
“I would never hurt you, Agnes. I’m just trying—”
“Stop!” Agnes cringed now as though she expected the nurse to strike her. Megan hurried down the hall and nudged the nurse out of the way. She looked her mother-in-law in the eyes, her hands on her shoulders, and said, “It’s okay, Agnes. It’s me. It’s Megan.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Megan?”
“Yes. It’s okay.”
Agnes cocked her head to the left. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you at home with the babies?”
“They’re not babies anymore. They’re teenagers. I’m here because you called me.”
“I did?” Fear crossed Agnes’s face. “When?”
“It’s not important. It’s okay now. I’m here. You’re safe.”
The nurse looked on sympathetically. Megan took Agnes in her arms and led her back into the room. Behind them, Missy Malek appeared, but Megan shook her off and closed the door. It took some time, but Megan got Agnes to calm down, to stop shaking and whimpering, and then, as had happened before, clarity came back to her mother-in-law’s eyes.
“Are you okay?” Megan asked her.
Agnes nodded. “Megan?”
“Yes.”
“Who were you on the phone with?” Agnes asked.
“When?”
“Just now. When I came out of my room. You were down the hall talking on the phone.”
Megan wasn’t sure how to respond. “Just an old friend.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, that’s okay, it’s just…” She stopped, fought back the tears. Agnes looked at her with such concern that Megan could actually feel something inside of her give way. “My whole life has been a lie.”
Agnes managed a smile and patted her hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Do you love my Davey?”
“Yes.”
“Megan?”
“What?”
“I know,” Agnes whispered in a voice that chilled the room.
“What?”
“Last week.”
“What about last week?”
“The day after Davey brought you to our house, I called Emerson College. You said you went there. But, well, something didn’t add up. So I called them. They never heard of you.”
Megan didn’t know what to say.
“I won’t tell.” The voice was a whisper again. “It’s okay, really. I lie about my age to Roland. I am three years older than him, but he doesn’t know. The truth is, you love my Davey. I know. You’re good for him. Not like those snotty, rich girls from town. Your secret’s safe with me, honey. I just ask one thing.”
A tear had escaped and ran down Megan’s cheek. “What?”
“Give me some grandchildren. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”
Agnes knew, Megan thought. All these years, this whole time, Agnes had known about the lie. The realization was almost too much to bear.
“Megan?”
“I promise.”
“No, not that.” Agnes’s eyes flickered. She looked toward the door. “They want to move me to the third floor, don’t they?”
“Yes. But you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“It won’t help.” She lowered her voice. “He will find me. Even there. He will find me and he will kill me.”
“Who?”
Agnes looked to her left, then to her right. She leaned in closer and locked eyes with Megan. “The bad man who comes at night.”
It was then that Megan remembered the spy camera in the digital clock. “Agnes?”
“Yes?”
“Was the bad man here last night?”
“Of course. That’s why I called you.”
Sometimes it was like dealing with a human TV set that kept changing channels. Megan pointed toward the clock. “Do you remember when I was here yesterday?”
Agnes started to smile. “The spy camera!”
“Yes.”
“So you can see him? You can see the bad man?”
“We can look.”
Megan had set the spy camera’s timer to run from nine P.M. until six in the morning. It didn’t record everything—it worked by motion detector—so it wasn’t as though they’d have to go through nine hours of material. Megan checked the back of the clock and saw the light was flashing. That meant there was something in the digital hard drive.
“I’ll be right back, Agnes.”
She hurried down the corridor and back to the front desk. She borrowed a laptop and came right back to the room. Agnes was still on the bed. The clock/camera worked via a USB port. She moved the camera to the bed and plugged it into the laptop. Agnes moved closer. The spy camera icon came up. Megan moved the cursor over it.
“If he was in your room,” Megan said, “we should see it now.”
“What’s going on here?”
They both looked toward the door. Missy Malek had entered, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed. She took in the whole scene—the two women on the bed, the clock/camera plugged into the laptop—and her eyes opened. “What is this?”
“It’s a surveillance camera,” Megan said.
“Excuse me?”
“A hidden camera. It’s built into the digital clock.”
Malek’s face reddened. “You can’t have that in here.”
