by T. I. Lowe
Crowley nodded again. “She’s fine.”
A slow smile washed over her face. “Thank goodness.”
Crowley pulled up a picture on his phone from their last fishing trip and handed it to Shayna.
Shayna looked at a picture of a grinning Leah, who was holding up a good-size bass she had just wrangled in. “Wow. She looks awesome.”
Mitch looked at the photo and let out a low whistle. “That’s one beautiful woman.”
“I absolutely agree,” Crowley said proudly as he put his phone away.
Mitch cleared his throat. “Shayna, dear, can we have two coffees and half a dozen donuts?”
“Sure. Any ones in particular?” she asked as she headed behind the counter.
“Gabby’s favorites,” Crowley answered before sitting down wearily.
“That would be Bavarian cream filled with chocolate ganache icing, lemon curd–filled powdered, and apple fritters,” she said as she began filling a box.
Shayna served the donuts and coffees, and then she turned to speak to Crowley. “Please tell her I’m so glad she’s okay and that man is dead.”
“You knew about Brent abusing her?” Crowley asked.
“She never told me, but the signs were pretty clear. I tried to get her to open up, but she never did.” She shook her head.
Crowley placed his hand on her arm before she strolled away. “Thank you for showing her kindness.”
She smiled. “Gabby is a great woman. She deserves a world of kindness.”
Crowley agreed completely and vowed to lavish kindness on Leah as soon as he returned home, hopefully for the rest of his life.
Mitch dropped Crowley off at a hotel. Before he left Crowley, he gave him the information for a hospital in Lincoln, Nebraska. “This was as far as we got to finding Leah. She was admitted and treated for close to a week. Her trail went cold after that.”
Crowley took the information and then shook the investigator’s hand. “Thank you, Mitch. You’ve been a great help. I’ll give you a call as soon as I get back to South Carolina.”
“You’re welcome, my man. I’m glad this case ended on a positive note. Most of my missing persons don’t.”
As soon as Crowley was checked in and settled into his room, he looked over the hospital information and booked a flight to Nebraska for the following morning. Something was bothering him and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Another puzzle piece was missing, and hopefully he would find it tomorrow.
After a quick shower, Crowley was desperate to hear Leah’s voice, so he tried calling the apartment’s number but got no answer. The café’s number went unanswered as well. He powered on his computer and pulled up the security cameras at the plantation. He didn’t want to spy on her, but he was truly worried. He hoped to see some indication that she was okay. He slumped in the chair and sighed when he found no signs that she’d been around the house in the past few days. He was about to close the window when a light in the distance from the pool camera caught his attention. It was coming from the river cabin.
26
TO CROWLEY’S RELIEF, the connections to Lincoln, Nebraska, went smoothly. As soon as he arrived, he took a cab straight to the hospital. He was more than anxious to get this behind him so he could head home to South Carolina. He had called Matt late last night and asked him to set up meetings with the doctor and main nurse who treated Leah.
He made his way to the reception desk in the lobby of the hospital and stated his name to the receptionist. From there, he was directed to a small conference room to wait for the doctor, who was delayed.
Thirty minutes later a casually dressed woman walked in the room. She smiled in greeting. “Mr. Crowley Mason?”
Crowley stood and offered his hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shook it with some gusto. “My name is Mona. I was the head nurse for Gabriella Sadler. Sorry about the wait. I’m off today and just got the call you wanted to meet. If you can wait ten more minutes, I’ll go grab her medical record. The legal department has cleared some information for release.”
Crowley nodded. “Sure. Sorry about you having to come in on your day off.”
“No, don’t worry about that. I’m just so relieved that she is alive and well. I honestly wasn’t so sure she would make it.”
“I’m supposed to meet with a Dr. Daniels as well . . . ?”
“Sorry about that, too,” Mona said as she was halfway out the door. “He had to perform an emergency cesarean.” She closed the door.
Cesarean . . . Crowley turned the word over in his head as he ran his hands over his weary face. He took a seat as he processed what that one word brought to light. The scar so deep down, she had screamed at Lulu about it. Pain so deep that sometimes she couldn’t breathe.
“Some scars don’t ever heal. . . . They’re just too deep.” She had told him this as he held her in his arms in the pool only a few nights ago. His mouth went dry and his own stomach ached in raw pain.
Mona hustled back in within ten minutes, sat down beside Crowley, and unfolded the record’s contents. “Where to begin . . .”
“From the very beginning. Please, just be straight with it.”
Mona glanced from the file to him and then back to the file. “Mrs. Gabriella Sadler arrived here in late October with numerous wounds and in premature labor. She was hemorrhaging profusely, so our first order of business was to try to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. Dr. Daniels had no choice but to deliver. The baby girl was stillborn. She weighed only one pound and ten ounces.”
Crowley cleared his throat. “How far along was she?”
“Our estimation was about twenty-five weeks. After she knew the baby didn’t survive, Mrs. Sadler shut down and refused to give us any information. I guess she thought there was no point in it.”
“She goes by her first name now as well as her maiden name. Please call her Leah Allen.” Crowley couldn’t stand Leah being attached to that man’s name.
Mona nodded and made a note in the file before continuing. “I cleaned the baby up and tucked her in a blanket and let Leah hold her before we had to take her away. She held that baby tight for several hours while we tended to her wounds. Once Dr. Daniels stopped the bleeding and had completed a blood transfusion, he instructed one of the nurses to take the baby.” Mona shook her head and lightly coughed.
“Ma’am?” Crowley asked in a low voice when she remained silent.
“Mr. Mason, in all my years of nursing, I have never before seen, nor will I ever forget the agony of that mother that night. I have nightmares about it. She screamed and wailed and refused to hand the baby over. I tried to talk to her, promising I would take care of her baby, but she would just hold her closer and sob harder.”
Crowley swallowed hard. “What did you do?”
“Eventually we had to sedate her to get the baby away. I tell you, I have no idea how she remained conscious throughout the entire ordeal before the sedation. It was as if she knew once she closed her eyes, the baby would disappear forever.”
Crowley rubbed his stubbly chin. “Was there permanent damage? Can she have—?”
“No permanent physical damage. She should be able to have more children with no complications. Dr. Daniels reassured her of this, but she had already shut him out.”
Crowley nodded and watched her pull out some photos from the medical record.
“These are shots of Gab . . . Leah. We took them to file a police report, but she refused to cooperate. We took them without her permission after we sedated her. I also had to search her purse for her driver’s license to get some information. She wouldn’t even share her name with us. We really weren’t sure she was going to pull through.”
Crowley looked at the first photo. It was of a redhead with her face so distorted that Crowley would have never identified her as his Leah. Her left eye was purple and so swollen that there was no way she could see through it when she was awake. All of the wounds he had seen on her face when he first laid eye
s on her, only two weeks after this night in the pictures, were now evident in their most raw form. The woman in the picture looked dead.
“She required stitches for the wound over her eye and the one on her bottom lip. The chin wound only needed a butterfly bandage.”
The next was a close-up image of her neck. “Those bruises are handprints on her neck. She had been severely strangled. We braced her neck to help with the sprain.” Mona pointed to a swollen shoulder image. “She sustained a fractured collarbone. I gave her a sling to wear, which was to also help with her broken wrist.”
The nurse then spread out the last two gruesome photos. They were shots of Leah’s abdomen. Her belly and left side were covered with swollen bruises that were so deep they looked painted on. “This was the obvious trauma that caused her to go into labor. She was either hit with a blunt object or punched. She also sustained two cracked ribs.”
Crowley thought about the broken bourbon bottle. If Brent weren’t already dead . . . What kind of monster is allowed to do this to someone? A quiet rage took over. This wasn’t just anyone . . . but the woman he loved.
Mona put the photos away and momentarily closed her eyes before speaking. “I dreamed of being a labor and delivery nurse ever since I was thirteen years old, Mr. Mason. It was the year I was blessed to witness my own mother give birth to my baby brother. Such a beautiful thing—to see life enter this world . . .” She shook her head. “I never imagined I would ever witness such a horrible beginning and ending to a mother’s story of her firstborn child.” Mona tapped the photo of Leah’s battered face. “This woman’s joy was stripped away from her body, and it sickens me that there was nothing I could do.” She wiped away tears. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t let her die, did you?” Crowley gave his best attempt at a smile.
“I did my best, but I’m sure she lost part of her soul that night.” She rose and Crowley followed. “Mr. Mason, do you have time to let me show you something I had promised Leah I would do for her? I’d like for you to be able to share it with her.”
“Yes, and please call me Crowley.”
The world had been one cruel place to Leah and had abused her in ways ungodly. He was so grateful this woman had been on Leah’s side.
Twenty minutes later, Mona parked her minivan in front of her church. She led Crowley over to a well-kept cemetery just off from the front of the church. She stopped in front of a pink granite headstone.
“The next day when she regained consciousness, she went into hysterics. I tried to comfort her. Even climbed into the bed and held her while she sobbed.” Mona brushed a few fallen leaves from the headstone. “She kept begging me not to let the hospital throw her baby away. She had me take ten thousand dollars from her purse to take care of the expenses.”
Crowley knelt by the small headstone and ran his fingers over the inscription—Our Precious Angel Spread Her Wings and Flew Home to Heaven. Delicate angel wings were engraved above it, and a date below—October 22. He took in all of the small gifts left for the baby. A wind chime with stained glass and scrolling metalwork sang lightly in the warm breeze. Off to the right side of the headstone dangled a glass butterfly suncatcher that sent sparkles cascading along the pink granite. Both lovely gifts dangled from silver stakes. A small bouquet of daisies sat in front of the headstone.
He stood and studied a small bench at the foot of the petite grave. It was also pink granite. “You’ve taken really good care of her baby. I know Leah will find comfort in that.”
“The community was so moved by this tragedy that everyone came together to take care of the costs of the funeral. I had our little Angel dressed in a handmade white gown with ruffles upon ruffles. She truly looked like an angel. The funeral home provided a powder-pink baby casket and donated their services. The local florist donated lovely pink-and-white arrangements for the service. She still places small arrangements on the grave for the changing seasons. The church was packed that day with mourners. Please let her know that.”
Crowley nodded, finding it too difficult to speak. Grief had overtaken him. He felt he had lost a loved one at the murderous hands of Brent Sadler, too. A little girl he could have loved . . .
“I couldn’t find Gab . . . Leah to return the money. After much thought, my church began a charity with it in honor of Gabriella and Angel. It’s called the Angel Fund, and it helps support local programs that fight against domestic violence and child abuse. I’ll make sure the paperwork is revised to change her name to Leah.”
“So you have information about the charity?” Crowley whispered hoarsely as he stared at the small grave.
“Yes. We have packets in the church that explain it all. Would you like one?”
Crowley nodded.
“Let me go grab it. I’ll be right back.” She quickly walked over to a side entrance of the church and disappeared inside.
Crowley sat down on the bench. He pulled his phone out and snapped several pictures of the grave site. By the time he whispered a prayer to God to help him and Leah get through this together, Mona had returned with the information.
Mona graciously dropped Crowley off at the airport afterward. He was desperately homesick for Leah and boarded the first available flight to start the trek home. On his first flight, the events of the past few days weighed on his mind to the point of sending him to the restroom to vomit up the only thing on his stomach—coffee and bile. Never had his grief for someone caused him physical sickness as it did for Leah.
A flight attendant served him ginger ale to help calm his stomach. After a while, he felt up to opening the packet on the Angel Fund and reviewing it. During his layover in Atlanta, Crowley phoned Jake and gave him the basic information of the fund.
“Will you take care of the required paperwork and donate a half-million dollars, anonymously, from my personal account?” he asked his friend who handled his finances.
“I’ll take care of it, man,” Jake said.
“Oh, and I have a problem I need you to take care of too. My name has been put on some stupid eligible millionaire bachelor list. How do you suppose that happened?”
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Jake laughed.
“It ain’t funny. Make sure it gets removed.” He hung up and began boarding for his last flight.
27
HOME, SWEET HOME. Crowley sighed when he pulled up to the café late that Wednesday evening. He had only been gone for two days but felt like he had aged years in that span of time.
A light was still on in the kitchen, so he unlocked the door and made his way inside. He was surprised to find Lulu and not Leah. He grabbed the little lady up in a fierce hug and lifted her off the floor.
“I’ve missed you, old lady,” he said as he breathed in the comforting scent of spices that perfumed Lulu.
“Me too, my boy.”
Crowley set Lulu down and looked around. “Where’s Leah?”
Lulu turned the burner off under a pot of soup and turned back to stare up at him. “She’s gone, Crowley. Has been since Monday night. Her Jeep is outside packed with all of her luggage, but she just abandoned it. I’ve been staying here in hopes she’ll return for her belongings and I can talk some sense into her.”
“Don’t worry. I know where she’s at,” Crowley said as he grabbed an empty canvas bag Lulu kept on a hook. He began filling it with bottles of Gatorade, juice, a few wrapped sandwiches, and premade salads. “Can you get me a couple containers of that soup? I got a feeling she’s not eaten since Sunday.”
“It’s actually her favorite vegetable soup,” Lulu said as she pulled two containers from under the kitchen worktable and filled them with the steaming soup. “Where is she?”
“The river cabin. I checked the cameras while I was gone and saw the light on.” He packed the soup and some wheat crackers in another canvas bag.
“Humph. I rode out there but didn’t see any sign of her. How’d the trip go?”
Crowley gathered the bags and shook his head despai
ringly. “The monster died of a heart attack—not by Leah.”
“That’s such a relief.” Lulu sighed.
“She lost a baby, Lulu,” he whispered in anguish as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Lulu nodded.
“You knew?”
“I put the signs and symptoms together when she arrived last November.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Her story ain’t mine to tell, my boy. You know that. Plus, would you really have wanted to know that then? No.” Lulu placed her hand on his forearm. “Now go take care of our girl.”
Crowley leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. He walked toward the door and said over his shoulder, “Leah’s right. Ana is the only person in this town who believes in gossip.”
Leah lay bundled under the covers in the same spot where she had been since late Monday night. Crowley hadn’t come to find her, and she was thankful to have the seclusion. The pain she had been holding in since last fall had bubbled out with such intensity it had scared her.
The dark sky had just opened up outside and was mourning in a roaring downpour. Sheets of rain pricked the tin roof in a somber melody.
Leah was dozing when she felt a presence by the bed. Trembling, she peeked from the edge of the blanket. “What are you doing here?” she asked in a voice so rusty it sounded like it had been left out in the rain.
“It’s my cabin. What are you doing here?”
“Hiding. Waiting on the cops to show up. Are they with you?”
“No. Just me.” Crowley turned to leave the room. “I’ve brought food and Gatorade. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready to join me.” He stopped at the doorway. “Leah, Brent died of a massive heart attack. Not by anything you did.” He left her alone, closing the door quietly behind him.
Shock and relief mixed about as well as oil and vinegar as Leah tried to grasp hold of it all. She didn’t know quite how she felt in that moment. The nightmare of Brent’s death was over, but it had come at a great cost. She now knew she wasn’t responsible for his death, but she still felt the weight of guilt for losing her baby girl.