Ghost in the Machine

GHOST IN THE MACHINE

Abigail plopped herself down and closed her eyes. She was exhausted and wasn’t sure she could do it all over again tomorrow. But, she knew she would.

She closed her eyes and wished for a glass of Merlot to magically appear on the table beside her. She opened one eye and peeked at the table. No Merlot. She sighed, opened both eyes all the way, and looked around the room. It looked as if a tornado had been through it. A little tiny dark-haired twenty-five pound tornado named Angelica — or Jelly as she called herself. Two years old, just under three feet tall, and responsible for the disaster that was the family room.

Abigail pushed herself up from her chair, and started putting Jelly’s toys away. Abigail was hoping, Jelly would soon learn to put her toys in the box, her blocks in the pail, and her stuffies on the shelf — all by herself. Until that time, though, it was up to Abigail to lead by example. 

What kind of example is it if the culprit is in bed, sleeping, while her mom cleans up? she wondered, as she picked up Moosely. 

Jelly loved Moosely — more than any other toy he owned. He was ratty, had no eyes (Abigail had removed them because of a chocking-hazard), and was at least twenty-five years old — that was how long Abigail had owned Moosely before she had given him to Jelly. She put Moosely up to her nose, and sniffed. He had that soft toddler smell — the good smell, not the my-diaper’s-full smell. Abigail smiled. Jelly usually slept with Moosely, but tonight she’d been whipped, and had fallen asleep before Abigail finished reading her story, The Paper Bag Princess — it was never too early to empower the women of tomorrow.

Abigail put Moosely on the steps leading to the second floor so that she would remember to deliver him to Jelly when she herself called it a night. She quickly tidied up the rest of the room, putting all the toys away, until tomorrow, when Jelly would have the room in a shambles ten minutes after she got up.

Abigail made sure the baby monitor was on, and headed to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. It wasn’t Merlot, but it was soothing.

“You can’t tell anybody. It’s got to be our little secret.”

Abigail froze. Where had that voice come from? 

The monitor! 

Oh my God! There’s someone in Jelly’s room!

She flew up the stairs and threw open her daughter’s door, flipped on the overhead light, and rushed over to the crib. Jelly was alone, sound asleep, arm flung over her head.

Abigail checked the window.

Locked. 

She flung open the closet.

Empty.

She quietly turned off the light, and shut the door.

Abigail had heard the voice, and it was coming from the baby monitor — someone was in the house. She carefully and methodically searched the entire house, making sure all the doors and windows were locked. They were alone. 

Then where had the voice come from? She looked at the monitor.  The camera showed Jelly sleeping soundly. Still watching the screen Abigail heard another voice. This time it was a woman’s voice.

“I miss you,” said the woman.

“I miss you, too.” The man’s voice. 

“I can’t wait until we’re together,” said the woman.

“Don’t worry, Baby, we’ll be together soon. Just as soon as—“ 

“Who are you talking to?” It was another man’s voice, but farther away, in the background.

“Just Mabel from work,” said the woman. “Okay, Mabs, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The woman on the phone didn’t wait for an answer, and the line went dead.

What the heck? 

The voices were coming out of her baby monitor, but the people weren’t in her house. So if not in her house, where were they coming from?

Grabbing her computer she Googled whether or not baby monitors could intercept phone calls. She was surprised — the answer was yes, especially from cordless phones.  Abigail was skeptical. First off, how many people still had landlines? Other than her Grandma, she couldn’t think of anyone else. 

But, more importantly, why had she not heard anything before tonight? She’d had the same baby monitor for two years, and nary a sound other than Jelly in her room.

Abigail considered the monitor. Ah, yes, she had moved it today because Jelly had thrown a bit of a tantrum and beaned it with a stuffy when Abigail had told her it was nap time. 

That’s right, she said to herself. I moved it over to the bookshelf.

Abigail considered the baby monitor. Up until a couple of minutes ago, it was exactly what it was supposed to be — a baby monitor. Now, it was some sort of freaky conduit into the conversations of others. 

Without their knowledge. 

Creepy.

Abigail considered moving the monitor back to its original location, but the voyeur in her resisted. 

What’s the harm? she asked herself, deciding to leave the monitor where it was.

It wasn’t until Wednesday, three days after the first conversation, that Abigail again heard the voices coming from the monitor. It was shortly after Jelly’s bedtime, around seven-thirty, same as last time.

“Hello?” It was the woman’s voice.

“It’s all set.”

“Jennifer, thanks for getting back to me. I’ll send you the information tomorrow, when I’m in the office.”

“Is he there?” said the man.

“Yes ... I know it’s taking a long time.”

“Call me later, when you’re alone.”

“Okay. I can do that. Bye.”

Whose conversations was she privy to? She walked over and looked out the front window at the houses that she could see on the cul-de-sac. 

It had to be one of them, because the monitor's range was pretty limited, especially inside the house, behind all the walls. 

She took stock of her neighbours, and immediately eliminated the Jepsons who lived directly in front of her — they were in their sixties. Well, she supposed it could be them — you never know. But ultimately she decided no. Indira and Greg, her neighbours to the left of the Jepsons, were eliminated immediately because Indira still retained a soft lilt from her home in India, and both voices on the monitor had the flat inflection of a native speaker. There were Darren and Sam who lived beside Indira and Greg. They were married, but one of the voices had been a woman, and as far as Abigail knew only the two men lived in the house.

She considered who was left. Buzzy and Shana, who lived to the right of the Jepsons, were a bit older than Abigail. They had three elementary-aged kids. Abigail considered them. She was kind of friends with them only because she saw them all the time, but didn’t know that much about them. She had seen them fight, though. About three months ago there had been a screaming match on the front lawn, and the police had been called. Since then it had been quiet. They were definitely contenders. 

Another couple to consider were Bethany and Buck. They lived on Abigail’s right, and were around the same age as Buzzy and Shana. Abigail knew very little about them. They had no children, and the only time she ever saw them was coming and going from the house to the car, probably for work. She considered them for a moment. They were never outside doing "stuff" around the house, never attended any of the get-togethers that the neighbours occasionally held. She had never run into them in any of the neighbourhood stores. Nothing. It was like they were ghosts.

Abigail considered the rest of the people living in the immediate vicinity. The only other couple she could think of were Eloise and Manny, who lived to her left. Abigail liked Eloise. She was fun and laughed all the time. Abigail was not a big fan of Manny, though. He had come on a little too strong at the last neighbourhood barbecue.  Manny worked from home, doing some sort of financial stuff. Maybe he had a land line. 

As Abigail considered her neighbours, a voice came through the phone. It was a man. Not the same man as before, another man.

“I told you not to call after five o’clock. My wife’s home, and I don’t want her asking questions.”

Abigail concentrated on the voice. It sounded familiar, but …

“I’m calling because there’s been a change of plans.” 

The second voice was the same voice that Abigail had heard talking to the woman! What did that mean?

“What?” said the first voice.

“I not sure I can make our hookup tonight. I’m meeting—“ 

Jelly’s cry interrupted the conversation. Abigail turned around and looked at the monitor. She was sitting up in her crib, wailing, rubbing her eyes. 

“MOOSELY!”

Abigail rushed to her daughter, the voices in the monitor forgotten. 

There was Moosely, laying on the floor beside Jelly’s crib, where he had fallen. Abigail scooped him up and gave him to Jelly, who grabbed him, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and laid back down. Abigail rubbed her back until the sniffling had subsided and her breath was even and calm.

When she returned to the family room, the voices were gone, and the room was silent.

Hmm. Who had been on the phone? She returned to the window overlooking her street. A set of headlights appeared down the street, and a minivan pulled into Buzzy and Shauna’s driveway. The sliding doors flew open, spilling kids onto the driveway, fooling around, hitting each other, and yelling — kid chaos. The driver’s door and the passenger door both opened and Buzzy and Shana got out. They were fighting. Again. In between yelling at each other, they both yelled at the kids.

So, Abigail thought, not Buzzy and Shana.

That left Bethany and Buck, and Eloise and Manny. Who could it be?

The next morning, Abigail was getting Jelly ready for daycare when the monitor in her bedroom hijacked another call.

“Last night was fantastic!” It was the same man, again. Who was he talking to?

“Yeah, it was great! I’m glad we decided to hookup later.” 

It was the male voice she had heard last night. Whaaat? Was this guy seeing both the husband AND the wife? What a playa!

The first man chuckled. “Who was better, me or Eloise?”

Eloise! Oh. My. God! Abigail was dumbstruck.

 Eloise and Manny were seeing the same guy, and Manny knew about it! Holy crap! 

Jelly took that moment to try and jump off of the bed where Abigail had been getting her dressed. Abigail caught her mid-jump, saving her from a face plant on the floor. 

“Wee!”

Abigail laughed, hugged her daughter and swung her around.  “Wee!”

After a long day at work and day care, Abigail and Jelly were in the kitchen. Jelly was playing on the floor, and Abigail was getting dinner ready. Jelly was tired, and whiney. 

“Change!” said Jelly, stomping her foot.

“You want to change your clothes?”

“Yes!” And she ran off to her room. 

Abigail followed her upstairs to her bedroom.

“NO! Jelly do!”

“Okay. Here are your jammies. Call me if you need help.”

Abigail smiled to herself and left the room. Jelly was getting so independent. But memories of previous attempts at “Jelly do!” gave her pause. They could take twenty minutes, and still end up with Jelly in tears. 

Oh, well, she thought, At least I can get dinner going.

She walked downstairs and turned on the monitor.

“… Tomorrow night. I’ll take her to the park. She loves to do it in the park,” said the mystery man.

“Yeah, I know,” said the voice Abigail was sure belonged to Manny.

“Anyway, you be there ahead of time. And then we’ll get rid of her.”

Abigail’s jaw dropped. She was gobsmacked. 

Get rid of her? Like murder-get-rid-of-her?

She was stunned. She had to do something. But what?

Abigail was preoccupied as she and Jelly ate dinner. Jelly sat at the table with Abigail in her “big girl” booster seat. She was still whiney and tired. 

“Don’t want sketty!” she wailed.

“That’s all there is for dinner, Jelly.”

“Don’t want!” And she picked up a handful of spaghetti and threw it at Abigail.

“Okay, Jelly, I think it’s time for bed.”

“NOOOOO! Not tired!” immediately breaking down into tears, sobs wracking her tiny body.

Abigail picked up a sobbing Jelly, and walked upstairs holding her close to her chest. By the time she got her to her bedroom Jelly was sleep-sobbing on Abigail’s shoulder. Abigail put her in her crib, and covered her up, tucking Moosely under the blanket with her. She bent over and kissed her daughter's head.

After cleaning up the “sketty,” Abigail phoned Eloise. It went directly to voice mail.

“Hey, Eloise. It’s Abby. You free for a glass of wine, tonight? Jelly’s in bed and I haven’t seen you for a while. Let me know.”

Abigail disconnected the call. What if Eloise didn’t call her back? Or what if she didn’t want to come over? What should she do if she couldn’t get in touch with Eloise to tell her about the danger that she was in? Call the police? And say what?

I heard my neighbour Manny and the man he’s seeing, planning to get rid of Eloise, who is also seeing the same man, and is married to Manny. How do I know this? Well, my baby monitor is great at eavesdropping …

Abigail doubted anyone would believe her. If she hadn’t heard the conversation herself, she wasn’t sure she would believe it either. Regardless, she had to tell Eloise.

The doorbell rang, startling Abigail, making her jump. She walked to the door and looked through the peep-hole. It was Eloise. 

Thank God!

Abigail opened the door, a smile on her face. Eloise had a nice bottle of wine in her hand, which she was holding out to Abigail.

“I was driving when you called, so I stopped in at the liquor store, and, viola, here I am, bearing libations!”

“Fantastic!” said Abigail. “Come on in.”

Abigail went to the kitchen to get wine glasses and set up a small cheese plate while Eloise settled in the family room. It gave Abigail a moment to plan what she was going to say. When she returned to the family room, Eloise was sitting on the couch, deep in thought.

“So, how’ve you been?” asked Abigail, as she filled a glass with wine, and handed it to Eloise. 

“I think I’m going to leave Manny,” she confided.

“Wait! What?”

“I’m seeing someone who doesn’t take me for granted. I think he loves me, and I think I love him.” She smiled at Abigail. She looked like a woman in love — a conflicted woman in love, but still a woman in love.

Abigail knew she had to tell Eloise the truth. Right now. How to start?

“Do you have a landline?”

“Yeah. Manny uses it for work. Why?”

“The other night my baby monitor …”

She tried to tell Eloise what she knew, but Eloise was not happy to hear what Abigail had to say. She accused Abigail of lying. She out-and-out implied Abigail was jealous that she didn’t have someone special in her life. She called her petty and mean.

Until the monitor erupted in conversation.

“She’s out at the neighbour’s house. We can talk.”

Eloise stared at the monitor, then back at Abigail. “That’s Manny!”

Abigail nodded. Eloise whipped out her phone, and started recording the conversation. 

Why didn’t I think of that?

“Is everything set for tomorrow night?”

“That’s Sam.” Eloise whispered, looked heartbroken.

Sam? Sam from down the street? Sam who’s married to Darren? Abigail was shocked and surprised. God! Is everybody sleeping with everybody else?

“Yup,” said Manny. “I’ll go to the park early and wait by the playground, in the trees. You got the gun?” he asked.

“Gun?” said Eloise, staring at Abigail, eyes wide. Abigail was stunned.

“Yup. I’ll drop it off tomorrow,” said Sam.

“Good call,” said Manny. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, around nine o’clock in the park by the playground.”

“I love you,” said Sam.

“I love you, too,” said Manny.

The call ended.

Eloise was in shock. “I’m such a fool. I thought Sam loved me.  Instead my husband and my lover are plotting to kill me. Why?”

Abigail moved to Eloise, and hugged her close. “I don’t know.”

“What am I going to do?” Eloise started to cry.

*****

Detective Terry Waits looked at the man in handcuffs, sitting on the ground beside his wife’s car.

“I’m glad criminals are stupid,” said her partner, Detective Lance Ito.

“Agreed,” said Waits, turning to look at Ito. “But what would have happened if there had been no baby monitor? If Abigail hadn’t heard the calls? If Eloise hadn’t been at Abigail’s last night? If she hadn’t called us? There’s a world of ‘ifs’ in this case. We’re just lucky it worked out. It could have been so much worse.”

“True,” said Ito, looking at Waits. He looked back at Manny. “Do you think he would have gone through with it?”

“Sure. It was a recipe for murder — illicit love affair, betrayal, insurance money, hidden debt. Killing Eloise would have solved all his problems.”

“The takedown was pretty intense there for a minute,” said Ito. 

“I’m glad he didn’t shoot me. He was some surprised to see a Black police detective sitting in the driver’s seat, instead of his wife.”

“Yeah, the look on his face when he saw you, then when I popped up behind him.” Ito chuckled. “Some master criminal. I though he was going to pee his pants.”

Manny looked toward Waits and Ito.

“I know you’re talking about me. I love my wife! You’ve got this all wrong!” he yelled over at them.

Waits and Ito walked closer to Manny.

“Uh-huh. So, why the gun?” asked Waits.

“I wanted to confront her about her affair with Sam.”

“Uh-huh. What about your affair with Sam?”

Manny paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. And what about the voice recording Eloise has of you both plotting to kill her?”

Manny started to sweat.

“Voice recording? What voice recording?”

“Of you and Sam, planning to get rid of her tonight.”

He looked indignant. “Impossible! We used the land line.”

Ito smiled at Waits. “I love stupid criminals.”