Carol Clark - He Sees You When You're Sleeping

“You can help us pack. I’m not staying here another night. I’ve had it.”

“Billy, this is not Frank’s fault,” Nor said, hoping to placate him.

“For all we know, this trial will never happen. Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life rotting in this house? Frank, let me explain something to you. I turned thirty years old last week. In the music business that’s old, you understand? It’s old. The ones who make it these days, start at seventeen, even younger.”

“Billy, calm down,” Nor begged.

“I can’t calm down, Mom. Marissa is growing up without us. She’s growing up hating me. Every time I talk to Denise she tells me how worried she is about Rissa, and she’s right. I’m taking my chances. If anything happens to me, at least it will happen while I’m living my own life.”

“Listen, Billy,” the marshal interrupted. “I know how frustrating this is for you and for your mother. You’re not the first one in this program who’s gone crazy. But you are in real danger. We have ways of finding out things. There was no reason to tell you this before, but there’s been a contract on you and your mother since January. And when the Badgetts’ personal goons couldn’t find you, they hired a hitman.”

Nor paled. “When did they hire him?”

“Three months ago. We know who he is and our men are looking for him. Now, do you still want me to help you pack?”

The fire went out of Billy. “I guess not.” He walked over and sat at the piano. “I guess I’ll just keep writing music that somebody else will have the chance to sing.”

The marshal nodded to Nor and left. After a few moments, Nor went over to Billy and put her hands on his shoulders. “This really won’t last forever, you know.”

“It’s hell on earth.”

“I agree.”

I do too, Sterling thought. But what do I do about it? The more he learned about the problem, the less he felt able to solve it.

With a sympathetic glance at Nor and Billy, he went outside. I’m used to the altitude in the heavens, but not in Colorado, he thought, feeling a little light-headed.

It’s hard to believe that Nor and Billy will still be here in December. I can only imagine the emotional state they’ll be in by then. Where else can I go? What can I do? Everything hinges on the trial. Maybe I should drop in on the Badgetts’ legal counselor. After all, he was the one who saw Billy and Nor coming out of Junior’s office.

I’ll be glad to get out of this heat, Sterling decided as he closed his eyes. Summer was always my least favorite season.

Once more he addressed the Heavenly Council. May I please be transported into the presence of Charlie Santoli, and may it please be in early December? Amen, he added.

“We should have put the lights up at least a week ago,” Marge commented as she unrolled another string of bulbs and handed them to Charlie, who was standing on a ladder outside their living room window.

“I’ve been too busy, Marge. I just couldn’t get to it.” Charlie managed to loop the string over the top of the evergreen, which had grown considerably taller since last year. “You know, there are people we can pay to do this. They have higher ladders, they’re younger, they’re stronger, and they could do a better job.”

“Oh, but then we’d miss out on all the fun, Charlie. We’ve been doing this together for forty years. The time will come when you really can’t do it, and then you’ll wish you could. Admit it. You love this ritual.”

Charlie smiled reluctantly. “If you say so.”

Sterling sat on the steps observing the couple. He really is enjoying himself. He’s a family man, he thought.

An hour later, chilled but pleased with themselves, Marge and Charlie went into the house, shed their coats and gloves, and gravitated to the kitchen for a cup of tea. When the teapot and freshly baked Christmas cookies were in front of them, Marge dropped her bombshell.

“I want you to quit that job with the Badgett brothers, Charlie, and I want you to quit it tomorrow morning.”

“Marge, are you out of your mind? I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. We’re not rich, God knows, but we’ve got enough to live on. If you want to keep working, put out your shingle again and do house closings and wills. But I’m not putting up with watching you build to a heart attack working for the Badgetts for another day.”

“Marge, you don’t understand-I can’t quit,” Charlie said desperately.

“Why not? If you drop dead, they’ll get a new lawyer, won’t they?”

“Marge, it’s not that. It’s… please, let’s just forget it.”

Marge stood up and placed both hands firmly on the table. “Then what is it?” she asked, her voice rising with every word. “Charlie, I want the truth. What’s going on?”

Sterling listened as Charlie, at first hesitantly, then in a rush of words, confessed to his wife that over the years he had been sucked into making threats to people who stood in the way of the Badgetts. He watched Marge’s reaction change from horrified shock to deep concern as she came to realize how emotionally tortured her husband had been for years.

“The trial I’ve been getting postponed has to do with the warehouse fire near Syosset last year. The singers hired for that Mama Heddy-Anna birthday party overheard Junior giving the order to have it torched. The word on the street is that the entertainers are working in Europe, but the truth is they’re in protective custody.”

So that’s the story that’s been circulated about Nor and Billy, Sterling thought.

“Why do you want the trial postponed?”

“We bribed experts who will swear the fire was caused by exposed wires. Hans Kramer, the guy who owned the warehouse, disappeared, but the brothers found out last month that he and his wife are living in Switzerland. They’ve got family there, and after what happened, Kramer doesn’t want to tangle with the Badgetts.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Charlie.”

“Marge, I’m not the one who wants the postponements. The Badgetts want them.”

“Why?” She looked straight into his eyes.

“Because they don’t want the trial to start until Nor Kelly and Billy Campbell are silenced for good.”

“And you’re going along with that?” she asked incredulously.

“They may not find them.”

“And they may find them. Charlie, you can’t let that happen!”

“I know I can’t,” he burst out. “But I don’t know what to do. You must realize that the minute I go to the feds, the Badgetts will know it. They have a way of finding out those things.”

Marge began to cry. “How did this happen? Charlie, no matter what the consequences for us, you have to do the right thing. Just wait a few more days until Christmas is over. Let’s have one more Christmas when we know we’ll all be together.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll pray for a miracle.”

Charlie stood up and wrapped his wife in his arms. “Well, when you say your prayers, be more specific,” he said with a tired smile. “Pray for a way to make Junior and Eddie visit Mama Heddy-Anna in the old country. I can have the cops ready to nab them the minute they set foot on Wallonian soil. Then we’d all be in the clear.”

Marge looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“They’ve been tried in absentia for the crimes they committed over there and both got life sentences. That’s why they can never go back.”

Life sentences! Sterling thought. At last he understood what he had to get done. The only question was how to do it.

Sterling went outside. Marge had turned on the Christmas lights as soon as Charlie finished hanging them. The weather was changing, and the late afternoon sun had disappeared behind heavy clouds. The multicolored bulbs on the evergreen twinkled cheerily, helping to dispel the growing gloom of the winter day.