Wednesday's Child

by Gayle Wilson

  As she moved farther into the shadows cast by the building, she literally couldn’t see two feet in front of her. She finally put out her hand, sweeping the darkness before her to keep from running into something. By necessity, she had slowed her pace, feeling her way forward.

  From off to her left came that same nearly identifiable clinking noise she’d heard before. Something tapping on one of the windowpanes? A bush or a tree limb? Was that what had lured her into this darkness?

  Lured…

  Suddenly the same primitive instinct for survival that had caused the hair on her neck to lift kicked in again. That’s exactly what was happening here, she realized. She had been lured to this place by someone who had no intention of making herself known.

  And no matter how much she needed to know about Emma, she would be an idiot to go any farther. If there was someone here, it was obvious by now that they hadn’t come to share information. She had given them plenty of opportunity.

  She took a step backward, her eyes searching the shadows. And then another. And another. Then, without making a conscious decision to do so, she turned, running from the darkness and toward the more illuminated area of the schoolyard.

  The swing she’d noticed before was moving slowly back and forth. This time it clearly could not have been set into motion by the wind. It looked as if someone had pushed it, beginning the pendulum movement that, even as she watched, had begun to wind down.

  Someone had been out here while she’d been stumbling through the shadows beside the building. Where they were now, however…

  She turned to look behind her, not because of any premonition of danger, but in an attempt to locate the person who had set the swing into motion. As she did, in her peripheral vision she picked up movement.

  She tried to make sense of what she saw, a dark shape that rushed toward her out of the shadows. It took a second to identify the object in its hands as a baseball bat and another, nearly fatal one, to realize it was being swung at her head like a scythe.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  INSTINCTIVELY SUSAN hunched her shoulders, turning to protect her head from the blow. As she did, she became aware of the swing set behind her. She ducked under the crossbar of the side frame, managing to put it between her and her attacker.

  The response had been intuitive rather than planned, but it worked. Instead of coming down on her skull, the bat connected with one of the uprights, metal singing against metal.

  Susan had already begun to push through the swings when she realized there would be another attack before she could get out of the reach of the bat. Again she acted on instinct.

  She grabbed both chains of the nearest swing, using them to bring the plastic seat up and over her shoulder. As her attacker ran around the frame and toward her, bat raised, Susan swung the seat forward as hard as she could, using it like a medieval mace.

  Although it was too light to be truly destructive, she was lucky enough that the bench part of her makeshift weapon struck her assailant on the hands or on the face. The bat fell, and before her attacker’s cry of rage or pain had faded, Susan was sprinting toward the gate.

  She didn’t dare look back, but she didn’t need to. She could clearly hear the sounds of pursuit. And whoever was behind her was better prepared for that than she was.

  She had dressed in the clothing she’d worn into town today, which included a pair of low-heeled leather moccasins—footwear not designed for speed. She could only hope the few seconds’ advantage she had gained with her counterattack would allow her to reach the gate before her attacker could catch her.

  As she ran, she tried to think of anything else she could use as a weapon. Especially something that could overcome the advantage the length of the bat gave her assailant.

  She glanced up to gauge how far from the gate she was and failed to notice the other end of the teeter-totter she’d skirted on the way in. It rested on a patch of ground shadowed by the oaks that shaded the teachers’ parking places. Running at full tilt, she caught her toe on the edge of its plastic seat. It was enough to send her stumbling forward, trying futilely to regain her balance.

  She landed hard on her knees and the heels of her hands, expecting a blow from the bat on her back or her head at any second. When it didn’t come, she scrambled up, knowing that her fall had obliterated any advantage she’d gained with the swing.

  She flew toward the gate. Familiar now with the latch, she had it open in a matter of seconds. As she started down the outside of the chain link, she glanced over her shoulder to locate her pursuer. The quick look she’d intended to take turned into a much longer one, although she didn’t stop running.

  Once more the playground appeared deserted. She hadn’t been aware when the sounds of pursuit had stopped, but even though she slowed to be sure, she could see no sign of the person who had wielded the bat.

  Deciding that it might be more dangerous not knowing where he was, she sped up again, fumbling in her pocket for her keys as she ran. This time there was no need to worry about noise. She punched the remote as she rounded the back of the Toyota. The resulting beep seemed out of place in the midst of her terror.

  She reached for the door handle, again taking the opportunity to survey her surroundings. Her fingers slipped off, either because of the trembling of her hands or because she hadn’t been concentrating on it. Forcing herself to focus, she gripped the handle again, successfully opening the door, and slid into the driver’s seat.

  She pushed the autolock, enormously relieved when she heard the latches engage. In the confined space of the car, she became aware of her breathing. Air ratcheted in and out of her lungs as if she’d run a race.

  She had. A life-and-death race. And her competition was still nowhere to be seen, she realized, eyes lifting to scan the schoolyard through the front windshield.

  Obviously he knew this area far better than she did. That was why the playground had been chosen as their meeting place, of course, and the sooner she was away from it…

  She made a stab at the ignition switch with her key. By now her hands were shaking so badly she had to make another attempt, this time steadying the key with her other hand. The engine started immediately, producing another surge of relief.

  Too many horror movies.

  From force of habit she glanced in the rearview mirror in preparation for backing the car. There, exactly like one of those relentless entities that haunted the characters in the films she’d just mocked, was the shape that she’d seen emerging from the shadows of the building. This time it was running toward the car, the recovered bat raised again.

  Susan floored the accelerator, sending the car backward at a speed that caused the tires to scream against the asphalt. Although she’d been anticipating it, there was no bump to indicate she’d struck her attacker.

  As soon as the front of the sedan was pointed in the general direction of the exit, she slammed on the brakes in order to shift into drive. As she did, the windshield on the passenger side shattered.

  She gasped in shock, her gaze flying to that side of the car. The starring from the blow was extensive enough that she could see nothing through that part of the glass.

  She knew her attacker would be standing right beside the car. As much as she needed to get a look at whoever it was, she needed to get out of the situation even more. If the windshield were hit again she might not be able to see through it well enough to drive away.

  She slipped the gearshift into drive and pushed the accelerator to the floor again. The car seemed to leap forward.

  She crossed the parking lot and made the turn out onto the street on two wheels. Despite the speed at which she was driving, her eyes flicked back and forth between the undamaged portion of the windshield and the rearview mirror. At any moment she expected the powerful beams of the truck that had driven her off the road to show up behind her.

  Just as in the schoolyard, however, her assailant seemed to have inexplicably given up the chase. Taking no chances, even
after she had turned off the two-lane that would lead to the Bedford house, she continued to watch the road behind her.

  When she pulled into Lorena’s long drive, she was surprised to see lights on in the front of the house. Obviously she’d been wrong in thinking she could slip out and start the car without waking her hostess. And she knew Lorena well enough by now to understand that she would have to explain where she’d gone at this time of night and why.

  Actually, it would be good to tell someone what had happened. Right now it felt as if she were in the throes of a nightmare. As if she should wake up to the ringing of her cell phone and find everything that had occurred between then and now had been fantasy.

  Except it hadn’t. That attack on the playground had been real. And this time no one, including the sheriff, could tell her it had been some random act of violence. That assault had been directed at her personally. And it had been premeditated.

  As she pulled up in front of the rose garden, she turned to look back at the two-lane. No lights. No traffic. No one was following her. And the front door of Lorena’s beckoned.

  She killed the engine and grabbed her purse off the seat beside her. Then she was out and running for the steps, pausing only long enough to direct the remote toward the car and press the button. The horn beeped in response to her command.

  As she hurried up the steps, the screen door opened with its distinctive creak. She looked up, expecting to see Lorena. Instead, just as they had the night she’d arrived, Jeb’s broad shoulders filled the opening.

  Her reaction now was far different from what it had been then. She rushed toward him, hearing his muttered, “What the hell?” as she threw herself into his arms.

  Incredibly they closed around her, holding her tightly. It was only then, in the safety of Jeb’s arms, the tears began.

  Hearing her shuddering intake of breath, he put his hands on her shoulders, holding her away from him so that he could look down at her face. With light streaming out from the hall behind him, it would be mercilessly revealed.

  She had no idea what he saw, other than the tears she was struggling to control. It was enough, however, that he put his arm around her and pulled her inside, closing the door behind them. He turned the dead bolt and fastened the chain before he asked the question she already dreaded.

  “Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  She didn’t. She only knew it had been after two when she’d left. And that it seemed like forever since she’d felt safe.

  “Somebody called me. On my cell. She claimed she had information about Emma, and that if I wanted to hear it, I had to meet her tonight.”

  Jeb’s lips had parted as he listened to that disjointed explanation. At first he said nothing. Then he began to shake his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  Something in her eyes must have warned him that she was at the end of her endurance. As she stared up at him, hoping that he, at least, would understand, his expression changed from derision to concern. Seeing that set off the tears again.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  His voice this time was free of censure. Apparently he had realized that whatever had occurred was serious enough to send her not only into near hysteria, but also into his arms. And perhaps that she had run there without the slightest hesitation.

  “She told me to come to the playground—”

  “The playground?”

  “At the elementary school.”

  “I don’t understand. Why the playground?”

  It was time for the truth, no matter how embarrassing. “I thought it was because I’d gone there to watch the children.”

  Jeb’s eyes widened in response to the confession.

  “I just watched them. I know how that sounds, but I thought if I could see her—”

  “I understand. What happened tonight?”

  “I thought at first there was no one there. That the call had been a prank. That maybe someone had seen me looking through the fence at the school and decided…”

  It didn’t matter what she thought, she realized. She had no idea who’d been waiting for her. Or why. She took a breath, determined to finish the story as coherently as she could.

  “Even after I went inside the playground, I thought there was nobody there. And then suddenly…” She paused, shivering at the memory. Putting the ordeal into words not only made it more real, but more immediate. As if it were happening right now. “Someone came out of the shadows with a bat.”

  “A bat? Like…a baseball bat?”

  She nodded, wondering only with his question how she had been so sure that’s what the weapon was. “When he held it up, I could see the shape against the light from the street lamp.”

  “When he held it up? I thought this was a woman.”

  “I don’t know why I said that. It was a woman who called me, but I never really got a good look…It could have been a woman, I guess. It could have been anybody.”

  “Tall? Short? Thin or heavyset?”

  She tried to think, reliving those few seconds when she’d watched that dark shape materialize out of the shadows.

  “I don’t know. It all happened too quickly.” As clichéd as the phrase was, she understood it now.

  “Just tell me your impressions.”

  “I don’t know. Not too tall, I think. At least…not much taller than I am.”

  She was five foot eight, which was tall for a woman, but less than average for a man. Based strictly on height, her attacker could have been either.

  “Thin?”

  “I didn’t see him. Or her. Not well enough to give that kind of description. And at the time I was more interested in dodging the bat.”

  “Wooden or aluminum?” Jeb persisted, ignoring her sarcasm.

  “What?”

  “The bat. Was it wooden or aluminum?”

  “What possible difference could that make?”

  “It might help us narrow down who would have access to it. Few high-school teams use wooden bats anymore.”

  “If you’re trying to suggest this was those kids from the next county—”

  “I’m not. I hadn’t even thought about the possibility. Not until you mentioned them.”

  Which made her wish she hadn’t. Of course, Adams wouldn’t need any prompting to claim the same thing.

  “This wasn’t some random prank. She called me. She lured me out there—”

  “I’m not saying it was random. You reported the joyriders, if that’s what they were. Adams said he was going to talk to the sheriff in Blount County. If the kids got hassled, maybe this was their way of getting back at you.”

  “Except whoever this was had my cell phone number.”

  “Which you’ve given to half the people in this town.”

  Jeb was right. She’d thought of that when weighing her decision to respond to the call. The cards she’d passed out had provided everything anyone would need to set this up.

  “But how could they know who called Adams?” she persisted. “If they just picked whoever was out on the highway that night.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he told the sheriff who it was that filed the complaint, and he told them. I don’t know the sheriff in Blount County, but in my opinion, Wayne’s never been the brightest of our elected officials.”

  Jeb took a step back in order to prop his hip on the hall table. It was an obvious attempt to ease the strain on his leg, and for the first time Susan remembered where he’d been and how much was riding on the outcome of the tests he’d taken.

  “What happened at the evaluation?” Even before he told her, she had read the answer in the flash of pain in his eyes.

  “There hasn’t been enough improvement to justify another extension. It’ll take them a couple of weeks to make that official, but I could read between the lines.”

  “So…does that mean they’ll kick you out?”

  His lips tilted at the terminology, but the smile was slightly twi
sted. “Or relegate me to a desk.”

  She knew he wouldn’t want that. He had already told her what being with his unit meant to him.

  “Is that why you decided to come home tonight?”

  “I didn’t see any point in staying. I’d had more than enough of their bullshit, so I changed my reservation. I would have been home sooner, but the flight from Atlanta was delayed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She knew all about shattered dreams and having your world turned upside down by something beyond your control. That was exactly what had happened to Jeb, and she didn’t blame him for being bitter about it.

  “About the flight delay?”

  His smile this time was almost normal. Self-deprecating. Charming, she realized. It transformed the habitual sternness of his features, showing her what he must have been like when he had lived in Linton as a boy.

  “About the evaluation,” she said, managing her own smile.

  “The irony is they wanted to cut the damn thing off. I thought I was so frigging brilliant talking those bastards into leaving it alone.”

  “They wanted to amputate your leg?” Her voice was tinged with a natural horror at the thought.

  “That’s exactly how I reacted when they told me. Now they’ve got guys with prosthetics passing PT with flying colors while I’m still hobbling around. Hind-sight’s twenty-twenty, I guess.”

  “What do they tell you at Southeastern? I thought they were supposed to be miracle workers.”

  “They are. Supposed to be, I mean. They just can’t seem to produce the one I need.”

  She let the silence build a moment before she worked up courage enough to ask, “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sitting behind a desk. I’d go nuts. What about you? What do you intend to do?”

  “About Emma?”

  “About what happened tonight.”

  She knew the answer she should give, but she’d gotten tired of dealing with the sheriff. He would probably suggest she’d imagined the entire incident.