“Why?” asked Hope.
“Because he must be vulnerable somewhere. And it is what he would least expect.”
Catherine nodded her head vigorously. Somewhere in all of them there had to be a mean streak; it was simply a matter of finding it and employing it.
“All right,” Sally replied, “I suspect we could do that. But to what end?”
Scott was measuring his words cautiously. “We cannot kill him ourselves, but we must remove him. Who can do this for us? And do it in a way where all of us-especially Ashley-walk away without a scar. In fact, barely a scratch, if we do it right.”
“I don’t know who you mean,” Sally answered for the rest of them.
“You said it yourself, Sally,” Scott replied. “Who removes someone from society for five, ten, twenty years right up to life?”
“The State of Massachusetts.”
Scott nodded. “It is simply a matter of finding a way to have the state remove Michael O’Connell. They will do this happily and enthusiastically, won’t they? All we have to do is provide one small item for them.”
“What’s that?” Ashley asked.
“The right crime.”
“Do you not see the genius in Scott’s plan?” she asked.
“I don’t know that genius is the word I would choose,” I replied. “Stupid and risky come immediately to mind.”
She paused. “All right, fair enough, on first impression. But here is what is unique in Scott’s thinking: it goes utterly and completely against the grain. Just how many tenured history professors at small, prestigious liberal arts colleges become criminals?”
I didn’t reply.
“Or a guidance counselor and prep-school coach? A small-town lawyer? And Ashley, the art student? What could be more out of character than for that well-heeled group to decide to commit a crime? And to choose something that might lead to violence?”
“Still, I don’t know…”
“Who better to step outside the law? They knew better than almost anyone what they were doing, thanks to Sally and her expertise in the court system. And Scott, he was far better equipped to become a criminal than he’d ever imagined, thanks to his military training. He was disciplined. Wasn’t their biggest problem the moral prohibitions against crime that accompany their status in society?”
“I still would have thought they would call the police.”
“What guarantee did they have that the system would work for them? How many times have you picked up the morning paper and seen some tragedy unfold, fueled by an obsessive love? How often have you read of policemen complaining, ‘Our hands were tied’?”
“Still…”
“The words you surely don’t want carved into your own headstone are If Only… ”
“I agree, but…”
“Their position was hardly unique. Movie stars know about stalking. Secretaries in busy offices. Trailer-park, stay-at-home mothers. Television personalities. Obsession can cut across any sort of economic and social background. But their response to it all was unique. And what was their goal? To keep Ashley safe. How much purer could their motive be? Put yourself in their shoes for an instant. What would you do?”
And there was the simplest, most unanswerable question.
She took in a deep breath. “In reality the only issue was, could they get away with it?”
33
Scott was energized, driven to his feet. He looked at the women gathered around him and feverishly began to imagine plots and plans, all fueled by the rage he harbored toward Michael O’Connell. Sally was shifting about, and he could see the lawyer in her starting to gnaw through what he’d said, shredding his words, unraveling his ideas. She will see all the dangers in what I am proposing, he thought. He wondered whether she would see that those dangers might be less than the single threat faced by Ashley.
But to his surprise, Sally abruptly nodded her head. “Whatever it takes,” she said coldly. “We should be prepared to do whatever it takes.”
Then she turned toward Catherine and Hope. “You know, I think we are about to step over a line, and perhaps the two of you might want to reconsider whether you want to be involved. Ashley is, after all, Scott’s and my daughter, and our responsibility. Hope, admittedly, you’ve been her second mother, maybe even more, and Catherine, her only real grandparent-but still, you’re not blood, and-”
Hope snarled at her, “Sally, shut the fuck up.”
The room was immediately silenced, and Hope rose to stand with Scott. She gathered herself and said, “You know, I have been involved in Ashley’s life, for better or for worse, since the day you and I first met. And even if our last days haven’t been so good, and our future is questionable, that doesn’t diminish my feelings for Ashley. So, to hell with you. I will make up my own mind as to what and what not I’m willing to do.”
Catherine quietly added, “Me, too.”
Sally reeled back in her seat. I have screwed everything up. What the hell is wrong with me? she thought to herself.
“Don’t you understand anything about love?” Hope asked.
This question floated around the living room. After letting the silence creep around all of them, Hope turned to Scott.
“Okay, Scott, maybe you ought to outline exactly what you have in mind.”
Scott stepped forward. “Sally’s right. We are about to cross a line. Things are going to get doubly dangerous from this moment on.” He suddenly saw risk in everything, and it made him hesitate. “It’s one thing to talk about doing something illegal. It’s another thing to actually take that risk.”
He turned toward Ashley.
“Honey,” he said slowly, “this is the point where you are to get up and leave the room. I would like it if you went upstairs and waited for Mom or me to call you back down.”
“What?” Ashley nearly shouted, instantly irate. “This involves me. This is my problem. And now, when you think you’re going to do something, something that involves me intimately, I’m supposed to exit? Forget it, Dad, I’m not being excluded. This is my life we’re all talking about.”
Again silence gripped all of them, until Sally spoke.
“Yes, you are. Ashley, honey, listen. We need to know that you are isolated-legally-from whatever we do. So you can’t be a part of the planning. You’ll probably have to do something. I don’t know. But it won’t be part of a criminal conspiracy. You need to be protected. Both from O’Connell, and from the authorities if whatever we come up with blows up in our faces.” Sally used her clipped, efficient lawyer voice. “So, don’t ask any damn questions. Do what your father says. Go upstairs. Wait patiently. Then do whatever it is we ask, without question.”