Again there was some silence in the room. Each of them could feel a certain appeal in this idea. But it was Sally, dropping into her most pragmatic, practiced legal tones, that immediately saw the problem.

“That might remove one dilemma-Michael O’Connell-but in its stead, a zillion other problems would arrive.”

Scott nodded. “I think I see what you’re saying, but go on.”

Sally actually mustered a smile at her ex-husband and Catherine. “First off, what you say-inviting him over and shooting him-is first-degree murder, even if he does deserve it. In this state it is punishable by twenty-five years to life, without parole. And the mere fact that we have all discussed it makes us all conspirators, so none of us, including Ashley, would walk away. I suppose one can always argue for an acquittal- jury nullification is the legal term, where the jury actually decides you were justified in taking the action you did-but that is a rarity. And not something anyone should count on.”

“There are other problems, as well,” Scott added. “What makes you think that we wouldn’t ruin all of our lives in the process? Our own careers, who we are, all would disappear. And we’d become the fodder for Court TV or The National Enquirer. Every bit of our lives would be exposed publicly. And even if we did this-and managed to insulate Ashley from the event-she would spend the rest of her life visiting us in prison and refusing interviews from Hard Copy, or watching her life turned into some Lifetime network movie of the week.”

Hope, who had been quiet, interjected, “The way you describe it, it would mean that O’Connell had won. He might be dead, but Ashley’s life-all our lives-would be ruined. And what he said- if I can’t have her -would turn out to be true, in a perverse way. She would be branded forever.”

Catherine snorted, as if disagreeing, but in actuality she could see the entire scenario, and beyond. She clapped her hands together and spoke out briskly, “Well, there must be some way to remove Michael O’Connell from Ashley’s life before something worse happens.”

Scott’s mind was churning. The word remove triggered a series of thoughts within him.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I have an idea.”

The others looked toward him. He stood up and took a few quick paces back and forth.

“For starters,” he said carefully, “it seems to me that we should take a page from his own book.”

“What do you mean?” Sally said.

“What I mean,” Scott replied carefully, “is that we learn to outstalk the stalker. Let’s find out everything-and I mean everything-we can about the son of a bitch.”

“Why?” asked Hope.

“Because he must be vulnerable somewhere. And it is what he would least expect.”

Catherine nodded her head vigorously. Somewhere in all of them there had to be a mean streak; it was simply a matter of finding it and employing it.

“All right,” Sally replied, “I suspect we could do that. But to what end?”

Scott was measuring his words cautiously. “We cannot kill him ourselves, but we must remove him. Who can do this for us? And do it in a way where all of us-especially Ashley-walk away without a scar. In fact, barely a scratch, if we do it right.”

“I don’t know who you mean,” Sally answered for the rest of them.

“You said it yourself, Sally,” Scott replied. “Who removes someone from society for five, ten, twenty years right up to life?”

“The State of Massachusetts.”

Scott nodded. “It is simply a matter of finding a way to have the state remove Michael O’Connell. They will do this happily and enthusiastically, won’t they? All we have to do is provide one small item for them.”

“What’s that?” Ashley asked.

“The right crime.”

“Do you not see the genius in Scott’s plan?” she asked.

“I don’t know that genius is the word I would choose,” I replied. “Stupid and risky come immediately to mind.”

She paused. “All right, fair enough, on first impression. But here is what is unique in Scott’s thinking: it goes utterly and completely against the grain. Just how many tenured history professors at small, prestigious liberal arts colleges become criminals?”

I didn’t reply.

“Or a guidance counselor and prep-school coach? A small-town lawyer? And Ashley, the art student? What could be more out of character than for that well-heeled group to decide to commit a crime? And to choose something that might lead to violence?”

“Still, I don’t know…”

“Who better to step outside the law? They knew better than almost anyone what they were doing, thanks to Sally and her expertise in the court system. And Scott, he was far better equipped to become a criminal than he’d ever imagined, thanks to his military training. He was disciplined. Wasn’t their biggest problem the moral prohibitions against crime that accompany their status in society?”

“I still would have thought they would call the police.”

“What guarantee did they have that the system would work for them? How many times have you picked up the morning paper and seen some tragedy unfold, fueled by an obsessive love? How often have you read of policemen complaining, ‘Our hands were tied’?”

“Still…”

“The words you surely don’t want carved into your own headstone are If Only… ”

“I agree, but…”

“Their position was hardly unique. Movie stars know about stalking. Secretaries in busy offices. Trailer-park, stay-at-home mothers. Television personalities. Obsession can cut across any sort of economic and social background. But their response to it all was unique. And what was their goal? To keep Ashley safe. How much purer could their motive be? Put yourself in their shoes for an instant. What would you do?”

And there was the simplest, most unanswerable question.

She took in a deep breath. “In reality the only issue was, could they get away with it?”

33

Scott was energized, driven to his feet. He looked at the women gathered around him and feverishly began to imagine plots and plans, all fueled by the rage he harbored toward Michael O’Connell. Sally was shifting about, and he could see the lawyer in her starting to gnaw through what he’d said, shredding his words, unraveling his ideas. She will see all the dangers in what I am proposing, he thought. He wondered whether she would see that those dangers might be less than the single threat faced by Ashley.

But to his surprise, Sally abruptly nodded her head. “Whatever it takes,” she said coldly. “We should be prepared to do whatever it takes.”

Then she turned toward Catherine and Hope. “You know, I think we are about to step over a line, and perhaps the two of you might want to reconsider whether you want to be involved. Ashley is, after all, Scott’s and my daughter, and our responsibility. Hope, admittedly, you’ve been her second mother, maybe even more, and Catherine, her only real grandparent-but still, you’re not blood, and-”

Hope snarled at her, “Sally, shut the fuck up.”

The room was immediately silenced, and Hope rose to stand with Scott. She gathered herself and said, “You know, I have been involved in Ashley’s life, for better or for worse, since the day you and I first met. And even if our last days haven’t been so good, and our future is questionable, that doesn’t diminish my feelings for Ashley. So, to hell with you. I will make up my own mind as to what and what not I’m willing to do.”

Catherine quietly added, “Me, too.”

Sally reeled back in her seat. I have screwed everything up. What the hell is wrong with me? she thought to herself.

“Don’t you understand anything about love?” Hope asked.

This question floated around the living room. After letting the silence creep around all of them, Hope turned to Scott.