Pretty Baby

by Pretty Baby (NCP) (lit)

  “Don’t worry, she can’t hear us, she’s in the back.”

  But Julita had heard it … heard it all. She was about to come around the corner when she heard them talking, but stopped dead still when she realized they were arguing. How could her papa treat Shadoe like that? Not only had he gone to great personal expense to come to their rescue, he had turned her to a woman with the passion of a tiger. The way they felt about each other, that should be the important thing. Not what he was, or where he came from. It didn’t matter to her that he was a half-breed. He was beautiful, and good. And her papa had hurt him.

  And then Shadow’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “You don’t have to worry, Garret. I’ll get you out of this basement. Then you and Julita can go live on the moon for all I care.”

  “Shadoe....”

  Shadoe put up his hands. “Hell, no. Don’t say a thing. I’ve been through this hundreds of times. Why should I expect anything different from you?”

  Garret saw Shadoe get up from his crouch and stack their dirty dishes in the picnic basket. He had to hand it to the boy, he hadn’t thrown all the help he’d given them in his face. He’d just cut it off clean and neat. Garret felt a certain sadness about what had gone on between them, but somehow he couldn’t change his mind. He knew there were a lot of things about himself that were less than desirable, but he would never have admitted to being a snob.

  * * * *

  Shadoe banged through the back door of the basement on his way around the inn to get to the back stairs. He didn’t want to see Lucretia, and figured she’d be at the front desk as always.

  But he was wrong.

  When he went to rush up the stairs, he found her coming down. Both stopped on the steps, looking at each other. A smile twitched at her lip. “Why, hello, Mr. Madison.” Her eyes lowered to the basket. “Another picnic? At this hour?”

  He looked at her robe. It seemed strange to see her in anything but the high-collared dresses she wore. “I’m an early riser. I like to eat outside,” he said, feeling the answer was a stupid one.

  His answer making her suspicious, she frowned. “Why are you coming in through the kitchen? I really must ask you to come in through the front. This is off limits to the guests. It’s only for deliveries, and such. I’m sure you understand.”

  He forced a smile. “Oh, sure, I certainly do.” He indicated toward the door. “I was just walking down by the beach. Thought I’d save a few steps.” Placing the picnic basket on the floor, he walked up a few steps as if to go around her, but she didn’t move.

  “Got any wine in that basket?” she said, hoping a reminder of their glass of wine the other day would be a gentle reminder to continue what he had started.

  “Don’t drink wine for breakfast.” His eyes darted up to her, then quickly away. “Now … if you’ll excuse me....” he said, shuffling his restless feet, anxious to get away. I need … I need to get upstairs.”

  She looked at him in a way she hoped was coy. “You should try it sometime.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean wine is not like hard alcohol. Many people drink it for breakfast.”

  Hell, yes, if you’re a wino, Shadoe thought, looking at the woman as if she’d lost her mind. “Maybe I’m just not worldly enough,” he muttered.

  “Oh… I think you are,” she said with a lopsided smile, and a voice she hoped sounded sexy.

  Shadoe gulped. She was flirting with him. This cadaver in a light blue robe was flirting with him! “Yeah, well … look I’m in an awful hurry, would you excuse me?”

  Her smile faded, and a cold look crept into her eyes. “Yes … of course,” she said, turning sideways to let him pass.

  He had climbed a few steps, then hesitated. Finally, turning back to her, he said, “Say, I was wondering … I haven’t seen the girl in the mask around lately. What happened to her? Seems like she just disappeared into thin air. Kind of strange.” His eyes narrowed on her to get her reaction to his question.

  Lucretia stiffened. “I … she … I had to send her away. You were right, of course.”

  “Right? About what?”

  “When you suggested she wasn’t quite right. I thought about it a lot, and finally had to commit her to an asylum. Yes, she was becoming a danger to herself and to the guests.” Her smile was nervous when she looked at him. “I want to thank you for your professional observation. It … it was just what I needed to take another look at Julita. One that wasn’t biased since she was my sister.”

  God, she’s good, Shadow thought. “Too bad. What was it that unbalanced her? Her face, perhaps?”

  “Yes, I think that might have played an important part in it. She’s had to wear the mask since she was a baby, and … well, you can imagine how something like that can play on your mind.”

  “You mean wearing the mask day in and day out?”

  “Yes … and the scars. Ugly, puckering things. Living with something like that day after day is bound to unhinge a person.” She angled a nervous look at him. “I thought you had seen her without her mask once. Did you get a look at the scars? Ugly things.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he assured her. “I would have liked to though. I still say a good plastic surgeon....”

  She breathed a little easier, a satisfied smirk playing around her mouth. “Really, Mr. Madison, in Julita’s case she couldn’t have benefited from it. She was too… well you know.”

  “I suppose your right. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get my camera. I was going to take a few shots of the bones down below the ridge.” He saw the blood drain from her face.

  “Yes … well, be careful.”

  He turned, hoping the conversation had done a little bit to stamp out any romantic notions she’d had about him. As soon as he reached his room, he picked up the phone.

  “Give me the local PD.”

  * * * *

  With the report burning in his ears, Dan Simmons, Chief of the Scarlet Police Department, immediately applied for a search warrant. After it was procured, someone from the judge’s office tipped off the media.

  “I’ll handle this myself,” Simmons said, then turned to two other officers. “Wilson, you and Dodd back me up. Sounds like Scarlet Bay is at it again.”

  The two squad cars peeled out, their tires burning rubber, and their sirens causing a piercing scream to split the mist-shrouded morning. Revolving blue and red lights cast a moving rainbow of color on the trees and shrubs that lined the road until they reached the famous Scarlet Bay Inn. The caravan of squad cars, news vans with their stations logos emblazoned on the side, and an ambulance, took a sharp turn and bumped up into the famous crushed-shell drive.

  Before the vehicles even came to a halt, doors were thrown open, and several people spilled out, some in uniform, others carrying camcorders, lights, and high-tech equipment. This was a small town, and a story like this didn’t come along often. The TV stations were a little hesitant to jump into the big middle of something that might prove to be a false lead, but once they checked it out with the police department they didn’t waste any time. They carted their equipment out of their vans, swarmed into the yard and ruthlessly fought their way into the crowd of officers that were constantly pushing them back, yelling for them to get out of the way.

  Hearing the noise, Lucretia quickly ran to a window. Her eyes widened at the crowd of uniformed officers and news vans. Having no idea what was happening, she let the drape drop and made her way to the front door and swung it open. She rushed out and stood on the curve of the portico, watching as Shadoe Madison preceded a line of uniformed officers walking toward the inn.

  “That’s her,” he said, pointing her out.

  The lead officer walked up to her. “Are you Lucretia Van Dare?”

  “Y-yes,” she said, hardly looking at the officer as she made her way around him to get to Shadoe. “What has happened? What are all these policemen doing here?”

  Before he could answer, the officer who h
ad approached her, barked at her from behind. “Ms. Van Dare!”

  She turned. “Yes. What do you want?” she asked impatiently.

  He extended a folded piece of paper toward her. “I’ve got a search warrant to search your basement.”

  “W-what?” she said, looking down at the formidable document he waved in front of her face. She looked back up at him. “W-why … I....”

  “We have a report that you’re keeping a man … I believe he’s your father … prisoner in your basement. Is that correct?”

  Her face paled. “No … it … it’s not true … it’s simply n-not true.”

  “Then you won’t mind if we look.”

  “No, you can’t come in here upsetting my guests. I … my … my father is … he’s dead … he … died.”

  “Please step aside.”

  “No!” she shouted in his face. “You can’t!” She looked around at the milling crowd. “I don’t understand any of this!”

  “Ma’am, charges have been filed against you,” the officer said. “You understand that, don’t you?”

  “But who...?”

  “Lieutenant Shadoe Madison of the NYPD.”

  Lucretia felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “H-he’s a c-cop?”

  Just then she saw Shadoe being pursued by a reporter with a microphone while he directed the other officer, a medic, and a police photographer around to the back. She sidestepped the officer, and ran toward Shadoe. “You bastard! Coming in here, masquerading as a goddamned photographer, then a journalist. What is this? Is this another disguise you’re wearing?”

  “Afraid not,” he said, indifferent to her anger, “what you see is what you get.”

  “That mouth of yours … I should have thrown you out when I had the chance, you scummy bastard! I want you out now, do you hear? You will not spend another night in this inn.”

  He turned and looked down at her, a smirk on his face. “Neither will you, lady.”

  She gasped at his words, then turned to the crowd. “Just a minute,” she shouted, but no one was listening to her. “This is my home, and you’re on private property. What do you want here?”

  Suddenly a microphone was pushed into her face, and blinding lights spotlighted her. “Miss Van Dare, we received a report that you have people held captive in your basement. Any truth to that?”

  Lucretia’s face drained of any blood, while squinting at the lights. “Where did you hear … really, that’s preposterous.” Her eyes widened when she recognized some of the guests who were streaming out of the inn to see what was happening. “No … no one’s in my basement,” she said to the reporters and other faces she didn’t recognize. “I … don’t know....” Her voice faded when she heard a noise, and everyone began running toward it. “Who are these people?” she shouted, watching the crowd tramping around on her property. She began crying. No one would listen to her. No one … God, what was happening?

  A reporter stood in front of a camera just a few feet from Lucretia who could be seen in the background whirling around wildly and screaming obscenities at the people around her. “As you can see,” she said, “Lucretia Van Dare, and the latest scandal at Scarlet Bay Inn has just made headlines … again!”

  * * * *

  Garret turned with a start when he heard a commotion outside the basement door. Within seconds the door banged open, leather shoes scraped on dirty concrete, and clamoring voices all talking at once preceded the crowd that rushed into the room. He jerked himself around, looking at the unfamiliar faces. All at once he was surrounded, and had to hide his eyes as flashbulbs exploded in his face.

  “What is this?” he demanded, trying to see past the assaulting flashes of light.

  “My God,” someone said in a hushed tone, “he’s skin and bones. The man is starving to death.”

  “You Garret Van Dare?” the officer asked.

  “Yes,” he replied, “who are you?”

  “I’m Chief Dan Simmons, and my second here is Officer Galen Brecc. We got a report that you were being held prisoner in this basement. Any truth to that?”

  Garret knew immediately what had happened. Shadoe had called in the authorities just as he’d suggested. “Yes,” he said, sounding tired, “thank God you’re here.”

  Just then a medic with a stethoscope hanging around his neck pushed through. “I need to examine him.”

  “This is Medical Examiner Druce Aldrich,” the chief said to Garret. “He needs to check you over. Then we’ll remove you from the premises.”

  “I understand,” Garret said, then saw Julita making her way through the crowd from the other part of the basement. He held his arms out and she went into them. “This is my daughter, Julita. It’s okay, baby,” he whispered when he heard her sobbing and felt her body trembling with fear.

  Officer Brecc, taking in Garret’s gaunt face and bony frame, turned to the doctor. “How is he, Doctor?”

  “Very strong for someone as undernourished as he is. What did you live on?”

  “Not much. Rotten food, mostly. That’s all my daughter would give me. After a while it started tasting pretty good … until she didn’t want me around anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, she gave me food mixed with roaches, ants … God--” his stomach lurched, “--sometimes alive, crawling….” He hesitated for a moment to get his nausea under control, then continued. “When she was upset with me she would put a dead animal on my plate. After a while the food became sparse, undercooked, if cooked at all.”

  The medic looked at him with a face mixed with compassion, and disgust. Trying to stay objective, he forced his voice to maintain its authority. “Sir, we’re going to transport you to the nearest hospital.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Garret said, grateful that his torture had finally come to an end.

  The medic looked at Julita. “Is this the child that suffered abuse?”

  Garret looked down at her, tears shining in his eyes. “Yes, she was beaten, drugged….”

  The medic reached for her arm, but Julita shrunk back.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Garret said. “Let him see your arm.”

  “Two daughters?” the medic asked, while looking at the bruises on Julita’s arm as well as the rest of her body. “Is that all you have?”

  Just then Garret looked up and saw Shadoe.

  When their eyes met, Shadoe made a mock salute and said, “Be seein’ you, pops.” His eyes shifted and lingered longingly on Julita for several seconds, then turned away.

  Garret looked after him, remembering the last angry words he had said to Shadoe in this room. He should be relieved, happy to be out of this prison, but instead, a sadness enveloped him. Would he ever see Shadoe again? Would he have a chance to say thanks? Was this just another case Shadoe was putting behind him? Why couldn’t Shadoe understand why Garret had acted like he had? He respected him ... trusted him. There were very few men on this earth he felt that way about, and Shadoe was one of them. Indian or not, he was a good cop. Knew what he was doing. Hard not to respect a man like that.

  He knew he’d overreacted, using Shadoe’s heritage like a weapon against him. Garret had done wrong, but could he really say he was sorry? It wasn’t Shadoe’s heritage, not entirely. Garret just wasn’t ready for his daughter to belong to anyone but him. He’d been robbed of her presence in his life for fifteen years, and had a lot of catching up to do. To see her in someone else’s arms … he just wasn’t ready for it. She was only eighteen. She needed to grow up, live a little, buy new dresses, take a trip around the world, catch up on all the things she’d missed. And he wanted to give her all that. He wanted to be her teacher, her mentor, the only love in her life right now. There’d be plenty of time for men later on.

  “Mr. Van Dare, please.”

  Garret’s thoughts dissipated like so much smoke when he heard the medic’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking up at the man, “what was the question?”

  “You have two
daughters, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” he said, “Lucretia runs the inn, and Julita here was living upstairs in the attic….”

  “The attic? Was she held prisoner?”

  “No, not in the way you mean. She was tortured, made to wear a mask … really, Officer,” he said turning to the chief, “can’t this wait until later? I’m feeling very weak.”

  “Of course,” he said, then nodded at the medic. “Better get him out of here. “The daughter can go….”

  “She stays with me,” Garret said, possessively.

  The chief signaled the uniform who had his hand on Julita’s arm, subtly telling him to check things outside.

  The crowd made way for the gurney Garret was on, to pass. He held Julita’s hand as she walked beside him. When they turned the corner of the mansion he saw Lucretia struggling while being taken into custody.

  When Lucretia saw him, she ran up to him, yelling in his face. “You bastard, you tricked me. Well, this is not the end, do you hear?” Her eyes shifted, looking up at Julita. You and your precious little whore will rue the day you....”

  Suddenly she felt a jerk from behind. “Come on Ms. Van Dare, don’t make threats on top of everything else you’ve got stacked against you.” With that he began pulling her toward the squad car.

  “Bastard!” she yelled out at Garret while resisting the officer who had his hand on her head, pushing her inside.

  Garret saw her glaring at him from inside the car. With the play of light and shadow on her face making her ugliness even more sinister, he could almost hear the obscenities she mouthed at him. He was finally rolled into the back of the ambulance, and heard the sirens scream as they made their way out of the drive and sped back down the coast highway.

  Back at the inn, several digging instruments clanked loudly as they were thrown down in the yard. As soon as the ambulance had left, the chief and the other officers began digging. By late afternoon they had found several corpses while cameras whirred, the grisly pictures scheduled to be broadcast all over the country.

  * * * *

  Julita seemed to be in fairly good health and was released before Garret. He arranged for her to have a room right there in the hospital since he couldn’t stand to have her very far away. She eventually became a soothing presence, helping the doctors and nurses as they tried to treat him. His gruff manner made him a difficult patient, but the doctors and patients, aware of his ordeal, tolerated him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.