Sold on a Monday: A Novel

On the drive to jersey, Ellis weighed his options against the potential costs. If the Millstones had managed to spirit Ruby away, finding her again could prove impossible. They could take on new names, a new residence, new lives. All they needed was money and the right connections. The couple had both. But offend Max Trevino, and the possibility of any help, now or later, could vanish.

And that was the best-case scenario. It wasn’t hard to imagine the worst, with the visit to the Royal still vivid in Ellis’s mind: the big goon from the kitchen, a bloodied towel in his hand, the punching and groaning beyond the swinging door.

“Lights are on,” Geraldine announced anxiously from the back seat. They’d barely rolled to a stop in front of the house, it was true. Windows were illuminated on both floors. An odd thing given the early hour.

Calvin, nestled like a kitten in his mother’s arms, rose to see for himself.

In the front seat, Lily twisted toward Geraldine. “They’re probably up early to get Ruby all ready for you.” She masked the uncertainty in her voice fairly well.

Ellis tried to sound just as casual. “Why don’t you all stay here? I’ll go first and take a peek.” Avoiding an objection, he headed right out to catch a glimpse through a window. It would be easier to do now that the rain had taken a break.

He had just climbed the steps when he spied a figure entering the parlor room.

Ellis ducked from view.

There was one voice, then a second. The glass panes muffled the conversation, but its intensity was clear. He inched himself upward.

Already dressed for the day, Sylvia was grabbing picture frames from the mantel. Alfred appeared to be pleading with her, his high forehead flushed. He was in nightclothes of plaid pants and a buttoned shirt, its collar askew.

Ellis murmured his gratitude that the couple was still there.

But then Alfred forced Sylvia to face him by holding her arms. She strove to break away, and the frames plummeted. Glass shattered against the marble floor.

“How could you?” she wailed distinctly. Pushing him off, she fell to her knees and worked to salvage the photos from the shards, slicing her fingers and yielding drips of blood. Her attempts to wipe the images seemed to make them worse. A guttural sob brought a stream of tears.

Alfred joined her on the floor, where she held a picture helplessly. He drew her in, and she let him, the photo falling free. He rubbed her back and spoke in her ear. For a moment, Ellis felt intrusive enough to back off. But with an abrupt shove, Sylvia scrambled away to stand, angling toward the window.

Ellis dropped down. From this distance in the dark, his view of Lily and Geraldine was indiscernible, but he could sense their gazes trained on his every movement, anticipating, questioning.

“Victoria!” Sylvia’s summons traveled easily through the panes. “Victoria, come now! It’s time to leave!”

Oh Christ.

There was no sitting back and waiting. Tracking down Max would take far too long. Ellis couldn’t risk the chance of Sylvia sneaking Ruby out. The bargain was off.

He marched over to the front door and pounded with his fist. Pounded again.

The door swung open. Alfred’s face sparked with relief, snuffed out by his recognition of Ellis. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here yet.”

The hell he shouldn’t. “Where’s Ruby?”

“Alfred,” Sylvia called out, “who is it? Who’s there?”

Alfred shifted into a hush. “You have to wait outside,” he told Ellis. “Now, go. Go.” He was shutting the door, his hands and pajamas tainted with blood from the frames, when Ellis pushed forward and stopped him.

“You want me to go? Then hand Ruby over.”

Sylvia appeared at the door and forced it open the rest of the way. Tears had streaked her makeup, blackening the rims of her eyes. Her gaze ricocheted from her husband to Ellis and back. “You phoned him…” She was exasperated, accusing. “You told him to come early.”

“Darling, no. Don’t be silly. I thought it was your brother at the door.”

She shook her head, backing away, betrayal further darkening her face. The situation was on the brink of a free fall.

Ellis stepped toward her in the entryway. “Mrs. Millstone, let’s just sit down and talk. Could we do that?” He needed to keep things calm, for Ruby.

But Alfred raised a hand to hold Ellis off, a signal to let him manage this. “Please, Sylvia, don’t make this more difficult. We’ll get through this together, the two of us.”

“The two of us?” The phrase had a souring effect. She stared at him, a sudden revelation taking hold. “That’s it, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve wanted all along. To get Victoria out of the way.”

Alfred gaped at her, stricken. “That’s absurd. How could you suggest… You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You told me to say it was me. That I was the one driving, because you drank too much brandy. But it wasn’t me at all.” Her voice sharply turned to ice. “It was you. You’d planned all of it, didn’t you?”

“What? No. I wouldn’t… It was an accident.” Alfred grew more flustered, emotion choking his voice. “The roads were slippery. You were there. You know this. I never meant to hurt our daughter. I loved her…”

For Ellis, the staggering exchange only cemented that the Dillard kids never belonged with these people. He glanced around for Ruby, prepared to tear the house apart to find her.

Sylvia abruptly bellowed toward the stairs. “Claire!”

“Darling, listen to me.” Alfred proceeded toward Sylvia, who went scuttling to the staircase, a wild animal evading a trap. Blood from her fingers dotted the white floor.

The housekeeper emerged above, already dressed in her uniform. “Ma’am?”

“Where is Victoria? I instructed you to bring her down!”

“She’s collectin’ her belongings. They’re…not quite ready.” Claire spoke with her gaze low, but it wasn’t solely from being timid. Ellis recognized the effort to stall. He envisioned Ruby hiding somewhere in a corner, a closet.

Would she try to slip out a back way, venturing alone in the dark?

“You deliver her this instant, or I’ll come and get her myself!” Sylvia commanded, spurring Ellis to intervene.

“Claire, you keep her right where she is.” He was about to start for the stairs, hoping force wouldn’t be needed to keep Sylvia back, when Ruby’s small, groggy face poked out from behind the housekeeper.

“Ah, Victoria,” Sylvia said. “There you are.” She sighed with a smile, a disturbing switch of mood. “Come along, my dearest. We’re going back to California, our real home.”

Claire subtly stiffened her arm over Ruby, standing guard.

“Victoria.” Sylvia was struggling against an onset of frustration. “Be a good girl now and listen to your mother.”

“Ruby, it’s okay,” Ellis piped in. “I’m taking you to your family.”

A rub to the eyes, and Ruby eased out into view. She wore a sailor dress with no shoes, her hair mussed from sleep. Slowly she began her descent, her daze lifting with her steps, her expression lightening halfway down, where she suddenly picked up speed.

Sylvia reached out to embrace her. “That’s my dear girl.”

But Ruby flew right past. “Mama,” she cried out and sprinted into the open arms of Geraldine, now standing in the entry. Her son was scurrying in to join her, with Lily just behind.

Sylvia’s arms went limp as she watched. Her red-smeared fingers dangled at her sides. Growing out of sorts, she sank onto the bottom step, shrinking into herself.

“Calvin,” Lily said, trying to coax the boy away. “We need to stay outside now.” She sent Ellis a look of apology, a message that she’d tried to contain him. Likely his mother too.

But what did they expect?

Then Geraldine held the hands of her children and turned to Alfred. “I got both my kids here, and I’ll be taking ’em with me.” She wasn’t vindictive or cold, simply assertive as their rightful mother.

Alfred looked utterly lost. Only the rumble of a passing car filled the quiet as he nodded.

Claire had just made her way down to Geraldine. She handed over a small overcoat and a pair of Mary Janes. “For the lass.” With a wistful smile, she bent before Ruby and gave her nose a gentle tap. “You’ll mind your mam, now, won’t ya?”

Ruby beamed in agreement.

When Claire shifted toward Calvin, who kept snug at his mother’s side, she opened her mouth but no words came. Solemnness born of regret played over her features until the boy spoke softly. “G’bye, Miss Claire.”

Claire smiled, her eyes misting over. “Goodbye, sweet lad.”

Ellis had no idea how Max would feel about the change without approval, but he knew better than to stick around and find out.

“Time to go,” he said.

Lily, after a kind nod to Claire, ushered the family toward the door, away from memories that hopefully one day would become a forgotten dream for each of them.

“Sylvia, no!” Alfred’s order swung Ellis around. His focus cut to the staircase, now vacant, before locating Sylvia across from the parlor, at the edge of the den. She gripped a revolver with both hands. Aimed at Geraldine, it quivered in her hand.

“Darling, give me the gun,” Alfred implored. “You don’t need to do this.”

There was a ghostly distance in Sylvia’s gaze, a disconnect.

The other women clambered to protect the children in a frenzied, panicking huddle. Ellis stepped into the line of fire, though he couldn’t shield them all.

“No one’s taking my daughter from me,” Sylvia said. No trace of anger, just matter-of-fact. Which was even more frightening.

Ellis showed his palms, a peaceable approach. “Mrs. Millstone, if you want to blame anyone, you should blame me. Not them, just me. I’m begging you.”

She didn’t react. She was locked in her own realm, seeing right through him.

“Mrs. Millstone,” he urged, striving to break through, then came a click.

She’d cocked the hammer. Her finger hugged the trigger. Before Ellis could think, he lunged forward, reaching for the weapon. A shot exploded from the barrel, and the feel of a red-hot poker pierced his side, but he wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t. They were grappling on the floor, fighting for the gun. Every movement gouged him inside. The pain throbbed and spread through his body, narrowing his vision. He heard a throng of voices, a din of words. He couldn’t give up, but his strength was dwindling, his limbs turning to water. The room was dimming into an endless tunnel of blackness.

The last thing he heard before his mind fell away was the blast of a second shot and a woman’s bloodcurdling scream.