“Well,” Marlon said slowly. “This new system should keep John—-and any other potential rapists—-out, regardless of the key situation.”
“You’re the boss, boss,” Isabeau said.
“You better keep me in the loop,” Marlon said. “Because I will go to the police and out this locksmith kid if anything goes wrong.”
“John is mostly interested in hurting me emotionally, financially, reputationally.”
“That’s not a word,” Marlon said.
“Hurting me physically is just a bonus,” Nessa said.
Isabeau looked from Marlon to Nessa and then down at the instruction sheet she’d been holding the whole time. “So let’s find out more about the new security system.”
Nessa could tell she was excited to share.
Isabeau read from the instructions. “ ‘Encrypted locking technology is keyless and codeless—-all you need is your smartphone and the app. Will automatically lock your door behind you when you leave. Compatible with most standard cylinder dead bolts, including Lock--tite, and blah, blah, blah. Your regular key will still work if you don’t have your phone.’ ”
Marlon seemed reassured by what he was hearing. “It was the highest--rated system I could find,” he said.
Isabeau continued reading. “ ‘Instant invites let you give custom access to friends and family.’ ” She smiled widely at Nessa and pointed a thumb at herself.
Friends and family. Is that what these two were now? Nessa found herself choked up at all this work Isabeau and Marlon were doing for her.
“I had no idea you had any real skills,” Nessa said to her sponsor, frowning to cover up her uneasiness at being the object of such affection.
Marlon stood, obviously ready to get back to work. “We all have our secrets.”
Monday, June 20
BRADY THE LOCKSMITH was only too happy to come out on Sunday to replace the locks. He was obsequious and contrite and she actually felt kind of sorry for him.
“Now remember,” she said. “You call me the second he tries to buy keys from you. Understand?”
Brady swore he would do so.
Before Nessa’s in--laws arrived, she looked at the video camera footage to see if John had lurked around the house the night before. She read the directions of how to play the video, then played it at accelerated speed, figuring she’d notice an intruder’s appearance.
It was difficult to keep watching, since nothing happened.
When she was done looking at video, Nessa called Lauren to tell her they wouldn’t be able to go to the splash park the next day because Daltrey’s grandparents were taking him to Kansas City. Lauren was disappointed, of course, but at least Nessa didn’t have to lie to her.
Nessa sat outside to intercept her in--laws before Daltrey saw them. At exactly eight A.M., Linda and Tony Donati drove up and got out of their car. They were in their late sixties and dressed like tourists.
Linda gave Nessa perfunctory air kisses, and Tony hugged her, avoiding her eyes.
“Before I let Daltrey know you’re here,” Nessa said, “I need to tell you what’s been going on.”
Linda and Tony looked uneasily at each other.
“All right,” Linda said.
Nessa told them about the online harassment, the abandoned truck, the poisoned dog, everything. With each addition to the list, Tony and Linda seemed to shrink, to fold under the weight of what their son had done. The final blow, the story of the almost--rape, made Linda cover her mouth with her hands.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you all this,” Nessa said, “but that’s why I need you to get Daltrey away from here. I’ve installed a security system at the house, but I want my son safe.”
Tony was nodding, staring at the ground, his hands in his Bermuda shorts pockets. Linda smoothed her hair and straightened.
“We’ll keep him as long as you need us to,” she said, a quaver in her voice.
“Thank you,” Nessa said. “Now let’s go get Daltrey.”
They went inside, and Linda wiped her teary eyes.
“Where are you, darling boy?” she called out. “Where’s my grandson?”
Daltrey came toddling in, all smiles, fat arms held out to his grandma.
“Hello, Daltrey,” she said in a loud slow voice usually reserved for the elderly and the IQ--challenged. “Grandma and Grandpa are here. Are you ready to go? Are you ready to go to Worlds of Fun? Can you say Worlds of Fun?”
Tony turned from the TV and, on seeing his grandson, began to cry, his mouth covered with his big meaty hand. To Nessa, he said, “He looks so much like his daddy. So much.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes and blew his nose. Then he picked Daltrey up and squeezed him.
Daltrey put his hands on either side of his grandpa’s face, which made Tony cry harder. Nessa teared up, watching this. If Tony could get his hands on John right now, he’d break him in half.