That was interesting. Because Walt wasn’t sure exactly why he had come back. Part of it, he supposed, was that he simply resented the idea of letting Boyle force him out of his own home. The more Walt had thought about that the more it had eaten at him. He didn’t want Boyle thinking he had won. He didn’t want to give the man that simple pleasure. Not for a minute.
But there was more to it than that. Walt had also come back knowing that there was no other way that he’d be able to reconnect with Teri. He had hoped that she would either call or stop by and he could put this other matter aside for awhile. And, of course, she hadn’t let him down, had she?
“You’re back because of her, aren’t you?” Boyle taunted. “Just couldn’t get along without the little lady and her kid. You see? I know more than you ever imagined. Your move, Sherlock.”
The message ended, almost too abruptly for Walt’s taste.
He stared down at the answering machine, feeling like a little boy who couldn’t lie. Caught you, young man. Caught you red-handed and dead to rights. No sense trying to deny it. You came back looking for your friend, didn’t you? You know you did, so don’t you go trying to give me any excuses now.
Then, mercifully, the next message stepped in to silence the chatter.
“Me again,” Teri said, rather evenly. “Guess you’re not there. I’ll call back, I promise. It’s almost ten-thirty now. I’ll try to give you another call in an hour or so. Hope everything is all right there.”
Not exactly all right, Walt thought. But it could be worse.
He listened to three more messages, all of them from Teri and not another word from Richard Boyle, thank you, thank you, thank you. Must be my clean living, Walt thought as he reset the answering the machine and wandered back into the kitchen.
There was nothing left to do now, just wait. Her next call would eventually come, not exactly like clockwork but close enough, and when it did he was going to be here, waiting.
It was the least he could do.
He never should have left in the first place.
Not with Teri and the boy in as much danger as they were.
[55]
Richard Boyle didn’t know which he liked more – the fact that he had turned the tables on that Travis chump-ass, or the idea that he was finally going to get even with Sarah for putting the chump-ass on his tail in the first place. There was a certain satisfaction in both, he supposed as he watched the little woman change lanes several cars ahead of him. The fucking bitch was long overdue for a lesson on wifely respect, ’cause it was wrong, just straight out wrong, the way she had been making his life so damn difficult of late. A woman’s gotta know her place.
Boyle changed lanes, cutting behind a white Volvo and reducing his speed.
You could beat the crap out of a woman and she’d be scared right enough, scared so’s maybe she might toe the line a little tighter for a while. But sooner or later she’d forget how bad it hurt. Either that… or she’d begin to like how bad it hurt. Nope… the only way to make an impression that stuck was to mess with her head. You keep the bitch off balance, always looking over her shoulder, never knowing when you might show up on her doorstep, then the fear’s got her all the time. It don’t ever let go. And comes the time when she can’t even hear the phone ring without peeing herself.
Up ahead, the little woman stopped at a red light. She adjusted the rearview mirror, and spent a moment checking her makeup, before sitting back in the seat and waiting for the light to turn green. She looked good, Boyle thought. Better ’an she ever looked when they was married. Some mornings she’d wake up looking like she’d spent the night out back with the dogs. A woman should know to take better care of herself than that.
The light turned green.
Boyle shifted out of neutral into first, a puff of blue smoke exploding out of the tailpipe. Just a little game of cat and mouse was all. Something to make sure the little ex never forgot he was around, that he was watching. Didn’t want her to forget that. Nope. Not for a moment.
[56]
Walt had been puttering around the apartment for better than an hour, only half-aware of what he was doing as he straightened things up. He had been pleased to hear that Teri and the boy were all right, though it still bothered him that he had left them unguarded. It also bothered him that Teri had sounded more and more anxious with each message.
He finished in the kitchen, replacing the sugar canister on the counter next to the flour, then wandered back into the bedroom, where it seemed Boyle had enjoyed himself to the extreme. The phone was still on the floor, peeking out from beneath a pillow, and just as Walt was reaching for it, it rang. He snapped it up immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Walt?” It was Teri.
“Thank God. You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah, everything’s okay here. We’ve been moving around from motel to motel, trying not to leave a trail.” There was a pause on the other end, and he thought he could hear her take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m so sorry about what happened to your apartment.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Teri. In fact, it didn’t even have anything to do with you and the boy.”
“It didn’t?”
“No, it was Richard Boyle, the guy I went down to the Bay Area after. Apparently, he found me before I found him. He’s the one who trashed the place.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a mean son of a bitch, that’s why.”
“And you’re all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Walt leaned back against the wall and toed distractedly at the edge of a manila folder on the floor. He managed to get the flap open and folded back. It was a case report. He thought they had all been removed, but here it was, the one that had been left behind. He glanced down at the title page and immediately focused on the name: Richard Boyle. The man had taken all the case files, except his own. Interesting.
“I went by to see Dr. Childs again. I told you about the first visit, didn’t I? That he wanted to do some additional testing?”
“No.”
Why would he have left his own case file behind?
“Then I didn’t tell you about what happened after the visit, either, did I?”
Why? Walt wondered. With the tip of his shoe, he tried unsuccessfully to flip the title page back, before what Teri had been saying to him gradually came home full force. He looked up.
“No. What’s going on, Teri?”
“It’s been crazy.” She went on to tell him what Childs had said in their first visit, and how they had run into Mitch and his friends outside the doctor’s office when they were leaving. She told him about the accident and about hiding out in the mall and about showing up at the apartment and finding the mess there. Then she told him about how they had dropped by to see Dr. Childs a second time and how they had gone in the back way. All of that came out of her matter-of-factly, then suddenly she choked and the words had to fight their way free. “He says there’s something wrong with him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dr. Childs—he seems to think there’s something wrong with the boy.”
“What exactly did he have to say?”