Crime Time

"You've got to be kidding me!" Martha exclaimed when I told her Julie had entered the million dollar hunt for Howie and her letter might have fallen into the wrong hands.

"Why did you lie for that bitch? She's put all of us in incredible danger! Why wouldn't you tell Quinn and me? We're you just going to sit by and let this bastard slit our throats? God, Ben! What were you thinking?"

"Look at the time sequence, Martha. I didn't learn about it until Julie came up here and Quinn had left for California. Then you were drunk, Howie was trying to deal with his mother and frankly, I believed Julie was totally remorseful over what she did." Martha shook her head, as if looking for more. "It was a last grasp try to hold the five of us together; for the children," I added.

"So now there are seven of us, counting Molly." She spoke with total resignation, utter defeat as she looked up at me. "Is it over?"

"Howie and Quinn are working a session today, once Quinn's equipment gets there. They're looking into the break in at Julie's apartment and the abduction in Vermont."

"Business as usual, I see, with Julie as my replacement."

No, it's not over but it will be if you tell Quinn. Howie will devastated but he'll probably take Julie's side and forgive her. Quinn is another matter."

She nodded her head in agreement. "Are you asking me not to tell my husband?"

"No. I can't do that."

"Why did you tell me?"

"I told you because you're here and with Molly knowing, you'd find out anyway."

"Are we in danger? Might this crazy bastard come after us?"

I closed my eyes and tried to think clearly. "Martha, I just don't know what to say. Yes, I'm concerned. Do I think he'll find us from Julie's letter, one of maybe thousands; it's unlikely."

"But not impossible. Someone broke into her place for god's sake!"

"Yes, and that's a coincidence that bothers me but me might learn something if Howie and Quinn manage to go back there."

Martha stood. It took me back to when we were kids, in Amherst and this knowing kind of trust and kinship we'd shared. Two kids plotting against a bully, exploring new haunts, exchanging secrets, making up games and building a club house together. "Ben," she said, "please don't let him kill me and my baby." She turned and left the room.

I rocked back in my chair, feeling a strange relief but unable to fathom the source. I picked up the phone for my next chore as Betsy, with Molly in hand, peeked in my office.