Courting Trouble

“Look, you know that my husband doesn’t like you, especially after our depositions. You should really go. Our lawyer will be with him, you can talk to him.” Beth glanced worriedly down the street, and Anne realized she was more worried about her husband than Kevin.

“Matt is with your husband? So, he told you about Kevin Satorno.”

“They went out for a minute, for more charcoal. Please, go.”

“Let me in, just for a minute. We’re both in danger.”

“Please, please go!” Beth’s gaze remained fixed at the end of the street, then her eyes flickered with fear. Anne looked over her shoulder. A black Saab was cruising toward the house, and Beth let out a low groan. “Now he’ll see you leave.”

“If that’s your husband, I’ll talk to him, too. I can explain—”

“No!” Beth pressed hard on the door and almost slammed it on Anne’s fingers. “Don’t you see? You’re just making it harder for me!”

Anne felt torn. She had no right to be here, but she didn’t like a woman being bullied when her life was at stake. “Kevin is out there, Beth! He’ll be looking for me today. And for you.”

Suddenly Anne heard the loud slamming of a car door on the street and she turned in time to see Bill Dietz double-park the Saab and rush out of it, his long ponytail flying. He was alone; Matt wasn’t in the car. He took big strides on long, thin legs and reached the front porch in no time.

“Oh, no,” Beth moaned, and Anne edged backward. She put up her hands almost reflexively as Dietz charged toward her and bounded to the front door.

“Mr. Dietz, Bill, I can explain—”

“Anne Murphy!?” Dietz shouted. “Who the fuck do you think you are, coming to our house?” His chest heaved under a thin yellow surfer shirt, and his deep voice thundered. “You’re dead, you’re not dead? You like to play games, fuck with people? What is your problem?”

Anne’s mouth went dry. “I’m here to talk with your wife and you about the stalker, Kevin—”

“What, you haven’t hurt her enough? Hurt both of us? What is this? Are you crazy, or just a bitch?” Dietz raged in Anne’s face, his skin tinged redder than it had been at the deposition.

“I’m trying to help Beth—”

“Oh, it’s ‘Beth’ now? You didn’t call her ‘Beth’ at her deposition! You called her a whore!”

“Bill, no, please!” Beth pleaded from the door. On the sidewalk, a mother with two young children hurried them past the house, avoiding the scene.

Anne stood her ground, wondering how much of his rage was because of the CD. Dietz was trapped and he knew it. The trap had been set by Gil, not her, but she couldn’t say that. Anne was getting angry. “I never called her anything and I’m not here about the lawsuit! I’m here because—”

“I don’t give a shit why you’re here! You’re a manipulative bitch! You’re fucking Matt! Screwing my lawyer, that’s rich! Using him to get to us! You can fool him but you can’t fool me, you little whore!”

“What?” Beth asked in a whisper, and Anne’s face went hot.

Matt had told Dietz. She felt ashamed, betrayed, driven to respond. “I’m not using Matt, and he never let—”

“You’re the whore, not my wife! You think I’m gonna take that shit from him—or you? I fired his ass, and I’m reporting you to the state bar! I’ll have you both up on charges! Now get the fuck off my property!”

Oh no. Anne’s mind was reeling. She didn’t see Dietz’s hand coming. He cuffed her across the face. Her cheek exploded in pain. She stumbled backward and grabbed the porch railing to keep from falling down the stairs.

“Bill, no!” screamed Beth, clutching her husband at the front door. “Stop! Come inside!”

“Get out of my sight!” Dietz bellowed, shaking Beth off.

Anne scrambled to her feet. She thought of the Beretta but would never go there. She bolted from the porch and ran.

27

Anne dashed down the sidewalk to Judy’s car. Her breath came raggedly and her knees had gone weak. She looked behind her. Dietz wasn’t chasing after her. The porch was empty and the front door was shut. Beth must have coaxed her husband inside. Still Anne jumped into the car and fumbled for the keys, slamming them into the ignition despite the wrench in her shoulder.

She turned on the ignition, hit the gas, and tore out of the parking space, with one eye plastered to the rearview mirror. A block away, she reached for her cell phone, flipped it open, and pressed in Matt’s cell number.

Come on, Matt. Pick up! But the ringing stopped and a mechanical voice came on. “The Verizon customer you are calling cannot be reached . . .” Anne sped away from Moore Street as the beep sounded.

“Matt, call me on the cell!” she shouted into the phone. “I just had a fight with Dietz. Why did you tell him about us? I heard he fired you. Call me as soon as you can.” She hit the End button and tossed the phone onto the seat. She didn’t breathe easier until she was two blocks away and the rearview mirror was filled by cars driven by normal people.

Anne’s heartbeat slowed, but her shoulder hurt and her cheek stung. She checked the mirror. Her cheekbone was swollen and puffy, but the skin wasn’t broken. She felt angry, frightened, and bewildered. At a stoplight, she tried to reconstruct what had happened. Matt had told Dietz about their night together, in a moment of what? Honesty? Conscience? Closeness? She shook her head as the light turned green. Lots of plaintiff’s lawyers got friendly with their clients, but this was ridiculous. Mental note: Men may be better at intimacy than Dr. Phil thinks.

Anne pulled up beside a minivan flying the American flag from its antennae and played out the scenario. Dietz was trying to deep-six the lawsuit because of the CD, but Matt didn’t know that. So Dietz must have taken the opportunity, when Matt told him about their affair, to fire him. Now Dietz would come home, tell Beth the news about Anne and Matt, and blame it all on them. How could she have let herself get in this position?

Anne cruised behind the minivan and switched the air-conditioning up to MAX, letting it blast away at her stinging cheek. She remembered Kevin. He could be watching, waiting, listening. Fear shot through her but she willed it away. She had to draw Kevin out or she’d never catch him. She searched the street but she didn’t see him; then again, she wouldn’t. Then it struck her: If Kevin had overheard that scene on the porch, he learned that Anne had been sleeping with Matt. The news would enrage him and place Matt squarely in jeopardy. Anne’s thoughts raced. Matt was stranded in West Philly without a car. Where had he and Dietz gone? What had they bought?

She gunned the engine to the end of the block, then crossed onto the next. It was a residential neighborhood, with not a store in sight. A young mother with two kids stood waiting to cross the street, and Anne called out, “Do you know if there’s a convenience store around here? One that sells charcoal?”

“The minimart at the gas station. Up five blocks, then take a right. They’ll have charcoal, if they’re not out of it already.”

“Thanks!” Anne waved them across and followed the directions to the minimart. A bright-white building with gas pumps and a bustling parking lot in front. Matt wasn’t outside, but Anne pulled in, switched off the ignition, and jumped out of the Beetle. She hurried into the store, past a pyramid of Kingsford charcoal. She looked around quickly, but no Matt. If he had been here, he’d gone. She was about to head for the exit when she spotted a ratty black-and-white TV set on a counter behind the register, and the image on the TV screen stopped her.

It was her mother, standing with the deputy commissioner. It must be the press conference. Anne screened out the noise in the store and leaned over the counter toward the TV.

“In answer to your question,” her mother was saying, “I am overjoyed that my daughter is alive, and I won’t be filing a lawsuit now or at any other time against the police department, the city, or the medical examiner’s office.”

Anne blinked in surprise. Her feet itched to go, but she stood on the spot as if rooted. Her mother, turning down money?

Off-screen, one of the reporters was asking, “Mrs. Murphy, why weren’t you called to identify your daughter’s body?”