“Enough,” she said, and took her hands away.
She let him stand beside her as the room began to fill. The crowd was bigger than she’d expected. Ray made introductions because Kathryn didn’t know most of them. People from the office, the old neighborhood. She was taking mental notes for Sylvia, who’d want an accounting of who showed up for her funeral. Some of them objected to the choice of cremation. She wanted to say, Mind your business. Better to placate them than get them focused on what was in the urn—which was nothing.
“It’s what she wanted. She was vain of her appearance. And she wasted away at the end, lost her hair and everything. She preferred cremation.”
“It denies the resurrection of the soul. She was a sinner to begin with,” one woman said.
Kathy was ready to punch her. Ray smoothed things over, and she let him so he’d think that he was back in her good graces.
A Unitarian minister conducted the service, reading from the eulogy that Kathryn had prepared, extolling Sylvia’s independence and sense of humor—qualities that this audience probably disliked in her mother. Ray sang “Danny Boy,” which he claimed was one of Sylvia’s favorite songs. That was news to Kathryn, but she had to admit, he did have a beautiful voice. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house, including hers. When the minister thanked them for attending and asked them to sign the guestbook on the way out, they realized there would be no wake. No food. No booze. The grumbling was audible. What a group. She’d be glad to see the backs of them.
Ray remained as the crowd filed out.
“I was thinking we should go to lunch,” he said, taking her arm. “The Oyster House? Sylvia loved that place.”
“I’m sorry, I’m really not up for it.”
“I understand, but we’ve got business to discuss.”
She stepped back like she’d been burned. “What business?”
Lowering his voice, he drew her aside.
“Kathy, while Sylvia was ill, we gave you your space. But now it’s time to get back to work. I wish we could trust that you’d let bygones be bygones. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s realistic. So, we need to put a few measures in place to keep you on track. Now, it won’t be all bad. There’s perks that come along with it for sure. For one thing, you won’t have to keep living in that dump near the courthouse. We have a new place for you. A beautiful town house in the Back Bay.”
“No, thank you, I’m fine where I am.”
He thrust out his chin. “This is not a request you can refuse. A lot of thought and work and money has gone into this, to keep you safe.”
“Safe? Please. You want to keep me where you can watch me. Let me guess, this place has a state-of-the-art security system, with cameras, microphones, everything you need to monitor my every move. Am I right?”
“Be reasonable. The trust has been shaken. I believe it can be rebuilt, but it’s only natural that you’d be under enhanced scrutiny for a while.”
“So you built me a prison.”
“It’s no prison. This house is beautiful and befitting of your station. It’ll be a wonderful place to entertain when the time comes.”
“Entertain? You can’t be serious.” She laughed bitterly.
“I’m talking about eventually, after you mourn your mother’s loss. Once trust is reestablished, and you’re back in the swing of things, it’ll be time to think about pursuing higher office. Governor, senator, Supreme Court justice. With your qualifications, your looks, the sky’s the limit. What I’m saying is, this darkness will pass, Kathy. There are things to look forward to. You can still have the future that I always envisioned for you.”
That he envisioned. She knew what Ray’s vision of her future looked like. Money and position in exchange for a life of captivity, of complicity, of people around her dying because she allowed herself to be compromised. Never. She’d tried to keep her mouth shut and play along, but the provocation was too great. The words came tumbling out before she could stop them.
“That will never happen. I will never work for you again.”
He sighed. “That negative attitude just won’t fly anymore. There’s no option of refusing to cooperate. You’ll live in the house. You’ll go back to work. And you’ll do what you’re asked. Measures will be put in place to make sure of that.”
She’d been vaguely aware of two people lingering in the back row after the other guests departed. Now, from the corner of her eye, she saw them rise and come toward her.
Charlie. And his mother.
She looked at Ray in dawning horror.
“No. Please, Ray.”
“Kathy, I’m getting old. It’s time that I step back. Besides, it hasn’t really worked out, has it, you and me? The view is, you need a firmer hand. That I was too indulgent.”
“But Mrs. Wallace? You can’t mean that. I hate her. She hates me. It just won’t work, and that’s bad for you. Besides, she’s a complete outsider. She won’t know what to do. She’ll mess up. She—”
“She’s no outsider. She’s always been behind the scenes, keeping the books, mapping strategy. We kept that from you because we knew you’d object. Well, courtesies like that are no longer being extended. There’s a new game plan. You’re going to let your current case manager go and hire her as a replacement.”
She grasped for any excuse to refuse.
“But people will know she’s Charlie’s mother, Eddie’s wife. They have the same last name. It’s too dangerous.”
“We thought of that. She’ll use her maiden name. Nancy Duffy. Now, stop complaining. It’s time to bury the hatchet. I want you to shake hands.”
They were upon her. She’d seen Charlie not long before Matthew died. But with Mrs. Wallace it had been decades. She was surprised to see that the years hadn’t changed her much. She was still small and neat, with boring clothes and a put-upon expression. The only difference was that her dishwater hair had gone gray, which suited her. She was born old.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Kathy,” Charlie said, holding out his hand.
She stared at it in disgust for a long moment. Then, under Ray’s watchful eye, she shook it.
Mrs. Wallace didn’t bother offering condolences, which was just as well. If she pretended to be sorry for Sylvia’s loss, Kathryn would have to pretend to believe her. And she couldn’t’ve managed that.
“I look forward to working with you,” Nancy said instead, with a glint of triumph in her mean, colorless eyes.
34
The day before the Pro Bono League reception The call Kathryn had been dreading came at the worst possible moment—during the weekly docket review meeting with Nancy and the law clerks. Kathryn was behind her desk when the intercom buzzed. Nancy got up from the guest chair and came around to answer it so fast that Kathryn had to bat her hand away.
“I’ve got it, thanks. Take a seat,” she said, putting the receiver to her ear.
“Judge, a call from a Mrs. Katz at the doctor’s office,” Kelsey said.
“Put her through. Thanks.”
She covered the receiver with her hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this.”
“Who is it?” Nancy asked, frowning.
“It’s a private medical matter. Please step out. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
Nancy couldn’t very well protest in front of the law clerks. But she shot a livid glance over her shoulder as they left, letting Kathryn know that she would pay for this later.
“Hello?”
“Yes, um—this is Dr. Katz’s office calling.”
Her heart plummeted. She’d been expecting her mother’s voice. “Katz”—because of Lucy the cat—was the code name they used for communications that might be intercepted, rather than risking blowing the cover on their new names, Marie and Jenna Allen. But it wasn’t Sylvia on the other end of the line, which meant something terrible had happened.
Kelsey was probably listening in.
“Is there a number where I can call you back?”