Along Came Trouble(94)

Sean walked three steps toward the camera, bent down to get it, and crushed the lens under his heel. “Shit. Sorry, boss.”

He picked the wreckage of the camera up and tossed it to Caleb, who didn’t even pretend to try to catch it. When he took a step backward and ground what was left of the camera into the asphalt, Ellen shuddered as though he’d crushed a living thing.

“Oh, man,” he said, with a smile she could only classify as menacing. “Didn’t see it there.”

The photographer’s face had gone a deep pink. “This is outrageous,” he told Caleb, sweeping his finger to encompass all three of them. “You’ll be hearing from me.”

Caleb shrugged. “I doubt it. But if I do, I’ve got a great lawyer.”

A police car drove up, and the flashing lights threw Ellen into something like a fugue state. She watched, out of focus, as Caleb talked to the cops and Weasel Face got cuffed and loaded into the car. She heard the words “warrant” and “Plimpton” and “custody.” Richard hovered around, asking questions of the police and of Caleb. Making demands.

She knew she ought to be reacting, but she simply stood there, feeling her pulse throb in the palms of her hands. Her whole body janked up and confused.

When the black-and-white drove away, Ellen heard Henry laughing through the screen door that opened onto the kitchen of Maureen’s little bungalow, and the color washed back into the world. She put her back against the closest tree and sank to the ground, still trembling and shocky, but herself, at least. Present in the moment enough to wonder how Caleb had known to call the police and why nobody had asked her any questions. And to know she’d focused her anger on a stranger and skipped over the person who most deserved it.

“Where’s Richard?” she croaked.

“I’m right here.”

He sat off to the side of the small house in one of Maureen’s deck chairs, in full view. Ellen stared at him, expecting the rage to come back. Waiting for righteousness to flood through her and prepare her for battle.

Instead, she just wanted to cry again. He was such a lousy father.

“You’re in violation of our custody agreement,” she said, her voice drained and emotionless.

“No, I’m not. It’s Saturday.”

Was it? This was his idea of a visit, then. Just Henry and Daddy and the man with the camera.

It hadn’t been a coincidence when he and Weasel Face had shown up downtown the other day. They’d been together, probably meeting for coffee or something. Was that what all of his talk of amends and reconciliation had been about? An opportunity to get her and Henry in front of a camera so he could make some quick cash?

Appalled curiosity pushed her to her feet. Richard wasn’t a bad parent. He was an irredeemably lousy parent. A bad man. A bad person.

“Do you even have a soul?”

Richard stood up slowly, eyes hard. “It was going to be a tasteful article. I was planning to give you the money for his college savings.”

She couldn’t even think what to say to that. His defense belonged to some moral nationality so completely foreign to her own, she didn’t even speak the language.

“Stay away from him.”

“From Henry? Not a chance. He’s my son.”

“Not anymore. Let me try to make this clear to you. You are not the custodial parent. You don’t get to make decisions on Henry’s behalf. You don’t get to sign release forms for photographers or accept their filthy money. You don’t get to exploit your own son. The only thing you were allowed to do was visit him, under supervision, one day a week, and even that you f*cked up. You’re a despicable excuse for a father, Richard. You don’t deserve him.”

Ellen pointed down the driveway, noticing as she turned that Caleb was watching from a few feet away. “I want you to leave.”

Richard shook his head as if she were off her rocker. “You can’t tell me to go. This is my mother’s house.”

“If you ever want to see him again, you’ll leave right now, and you’ll stay away until I tell you to come back. If you don’t, I’m taking him home, and Monday morning I’ll file a request to get your visitation rights revoked.”

Richard stared at her slack-jawed. For once, he’d actually listened to her. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“Try me.”

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

“Watch your mouth, *,” Caleb said, stepping closer.