Page 102 of Return of the Spider
“You’re saying I’ll screw up eventually?”
“We all do, baby. We all do.”
CHAPTER
84
Mid-december turned dank andcold up and down the mid-Atlantic. But the foul weather did nothing to dampen Missy Murphy’s enthusiasm for her and Gary’s rapidly approaching wedding.
“Do you want to hear about the cutest napkins Mom found for the appetizer table?” she asked as Soneji stood shivering at an outdoor pay phone on a commercial strip in Lincolnia, Virginia. A wintry mix of rain and snow was falling in the fading afternoon light.
I’d rather suck a bullet,Soneji thought. “Tell me about them,” he said.
“The napkins have little Santas officiating at weddings on them!” Missy cried. “Roni loves them. So do I!”
“That’s hilarious,” Soneji said. “Hey, babe?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m in a phone booth freezing my ass off, and it’s snowing and they’re saying the DC area is going to get clobbered tonight. Can I go eat and call you later from my motel?”
There was a long pause before she sighed. “Okay, but promise to call after I get Roni to bed, okay? There are still many, many things we need to discuss.”
“And I love you and I can’t wait to hear them,” he said, then hung up.
He got in the Saab, turned the heat on high, and moved his toes to restore circulation. Then he drove down a series of roads and parked up the street from an eggshell-blue, two-story Colonial.
Soneji turned off the Saab’s ignition, checked his watch, and saw it was already past five. Movement would not be long in coming now.
At twenty past the hour, the lights of a Christmas tree went on in the Colonial’s front room, casting a festive glow through the window and onto the lawn. At five forty-five, as she’d done every evening for the past three, a woman Soneji had met only once came out the front door.
Sandy Ravisky, the computer science teacher he was subbing for, got in a Chrysler minivan and backed out. An older woman, presumably Ravisky’s mother, stood in the doorway holding her newborn grandchild. When her daughter was gone, she shut the door.
For the first time since he’d started watching the Ravisky family, Soneji did not follow Sandy. The woman was habitually late wherever she went and liked to drive fast, which made her difficult to tail.
Besides, he knew exactly where she was going: to pick up her husband, Peter, at work.
True to form, the Raviskys returned around six thirty and quickly went inside together. Sandy’s mother left the house soon after, retreating to a mother-in-law’s cottage in the backyard.
Soneji drove to Old Town, Alexandria, and had Greek food, no alcohol.
Tonight’s work had to be mechanically flawless. He’d spent two weeks researching how best to achieve his aims and felt he understood the process cold.
At nine p.m., he called Missy from a warmer pay phone in the hallway near the restaurant. They talked about seating plans for obscure relatives he’d never met before and would probably never meet again.
By the time they got to flower arrangements, he’d had enough. “Sorry, Miss, but I have to be up early. Can we talk again before I head out?”
After a pause, she said, “That would be nice. Get a good sleep.”
“You too,” he said, and went outside to the Saab, which had about a half an inch of snow on the windshield.
He was back in his observation post down the street from the Raviskys’ home at ten thirty. The snow was falling heavily now.
Soneji left the engine running, listening to the radio. The forecast was calling for as much as three inches overnight with plunging temperatures toward dawn, exactly why he’d chosen this evening to act.
The Raviskys’ Christmas tree went dark at eleven p.m. The bedroom lights went off not long after. Soneji stayed put, waiting for the lights to go out in the mother-in-law’s place, starting his car every half hour to warm his feet. The cottage finally went dark shortly after midnight. He kicked off his shoes, put on a second layer of wool socks, and slipped on low rubber galoshes.
He donned a black hood, a headlamp, and gloves, picked up asmall bag with the essential tools, and slipped outside. It was snowing steadily as he padded diagonally to the Raviskys’ Chrysler minivan.
