“We’ll be going again,” Martha said. “But even there, an older man spoke to him and it frightened him terribly. He clung so tightly to me, I knew he was petrified. I tried to convince him the man was good and after a while, he finally played like all the other kids. Anymore, when I look at a bunch of kids, I wonder how many of them hide terrible secrets. Who knows what happens in their homes? I hate it!” She paused then went in to see her grandson. “Hi, honey, when are we going out to eat again?”
He left his chair and climbed into her lap. “You know where we could go, Grammy?”
“Why no, I can’t guess, Will.”
“To Biggie’s!” Then he spotted his father. “Daddy!” He scrambled from Martha and ran to his father who scooped him up and swung him in the air.
“Hi ya, son!” Martin hugged his small son warmly and kissed his cheeks. “What’s all this about going out to eat?”
Will exuded excitement. “Grammy’s takin’ me to Biggie’s for ’nother bittie meal!” the boy exclaimed and chattered happily for several minutes.
Tears filled Jeannie’s eyes as she looked at Martha. “Thanks Mom, you’ll never know how much.” She leaned into her husband’s big body for the strength afforded there. Martin enclosed her in his arms for a few moments.
At the door, Martin hugged Martha in a warm bear hug. “Bless you, Martha. We need all the help we can get.” The pain in his eyes hurt her and that terrible inner anger over her helplessness against people like Callahan rose in her again.
“Whatever helps. Who would have thought it’d be Biggie’s Burgers?” Martha replied and chuckled as she headed for her car. The sky had darkened into night, and she didn’t have a hospital shift for today.
“Thank heavens, maybe I can get some rest,” she mused aloud as she drove. “I have to find a shrink, maybe tomorrow. I wonder what he’ll think about my problem. What if he finds me a certifiable nut case?”
She felt more relaxed after visiting at her daughter’. Any spark of normalcy in Will produced hope for his recovery and confidence in his counselor’s efforts. Martha watched television before showering and going to bed. There were no further details about the Callahan case or any movies worthy of watching to take her mind away from the harsh realities of her present life.
Feeling restless, she took a mild sedative, actually a Dramamine, and fell into bed. Again, she had wild dreams, but felt nothing chasing her, though evil feelings lurked in the shadows of her mind and waited there to punish her.
CHAPTER 9
Martha woke with a jolt. Checking the clock, she realized she’d slept very late. “Ye Gods, it’s almost ten. I don’t believe I’ve slept so late. I have to be at work again at three.” She realized something else, too. “I feel tired, like I’ve run a million miles.”
Her phone rang. It was Jeannie. Listening with half an ear as Jeannie went on about Callahan, Martha’s mind swirled with feelings of unreality. Her thoughts centered on the new case she’d heard about, another attempt on children, and two more little girls haunted by nightmares.
“Yes, thank God,” Martha managed to answer. “He won’t be molesting kids again.” Laughing softly, she continued. “I heard the gory details at work last night, and I applaud whoever did it.”
“I know, but God, Mom, when will it end?”
“It never ends, Jeannie. There’s another devil on the loose.” She broke off and shook her head. “Hon, I have to work today, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Give my love to Will and we’ll go to Biggie’s again if he wants.”
Martha hung up. Her mind made up, steeling herself to contain her apprehension, she called Dr. Michael Carton’s office, a psychiatrist she’d heard good things about. She seldom worked psych, and consequently met few psychiatrists in the course of her hospital work. She was thankful she didn’t know Dr. Carton personally.
His nurse asked why she was calling and Martha answered, “I don’t exactly know what to tell you, but I have memory or time lapses.” She went on to explain. “I have lost periods of time. I don’t remember where I was or what happened at all. I’m frightened about it and I need to see someone.”
“Do you have insurance?”
“Yes, I have coverage. I’m a nurse at the hospital.”
“Oh, well, since you’re a nurse, I’ll try to squeeze you in. Let me think. I guess Dr. Carton could see you the day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” Sighing, Martha hung up. She had an appointment in two days, and only because she was in the medical field. “This way if I’m losing my mind, at least I’ll know why.”
She turned on the tube, looking for news of that latest crime against children. Hearing nothing, she flipped the channel. “Maybe the soaps would be better.”
The doorbell rang. Martha opened the door and, to her delight, saw Lizzie Marin, her friend of many years. Lizzie, a well-put-together woman with dark, curling hair swept back from her temples and a wide smile, was always a joy. “Oh hi, come in!” She flung the door wide and reached for her.
“Lady, what’s wrong, you look like hell.”
Martha laughed. “And good day to you, too. Want some lunch in a while? I just got up, had a bite of breakfast, but I could eat again if you’re hungry.”
Lizzie grinned. “Sure, anything—hey, I haven’t heard from you for a while. Anything going on?”
Her quizzical look put Martha on guard. “No, nothing out of the ordinary. Work, of course, and there’s my grandson, Will. I wonder if there’s ever an end to what happened to that poor child. Do they ever recover from a thing like that? Do you know anything about those things? I may be a nurse, but this has me baffled.”
“I don’t know, but someone sure did a number on the dude that attacked Will. You hear about that?” Lizzie laughed in delight. “He won’t be out molesting kids any time soon, or ever. We need more of that in this country, I say.” She flipped her hair back as she spoke. “They ought to cut the balls off every child predator in the country!” Her bright, hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.
Martha nodded in agreement, thinking her friend was a nice looking woman for her age. In her forties, Lizzie had married very well, and no doubt had had a bit of enhancement work done. At least Martha thought so, but she had never asked. “I was glad to hear about it,” she said. “He must have more enemies than us. Guys like that never stop, I’m told. Maybe you’re right in your idea of a permanent cure. But that wouldn’t be politically correct, now would it?” Martha uttered a deep, derisive chuckle as she pulled out the coffee pot. “Would you like a cup?”
“Sure, coffee makes my world go round.” After it brewed, Lizzie took the proffered cup and cradled it in her hands. “How come you look so tired, Martha?” she questioned with narrowed eyes. “Tough night at work?”
“It’s always busy on the wards these days and charting is out of hand. The government won’t pay Medicare payments unless every procedure is written out in detail. So, instead of actually giving nursing care, you just write all about it in the treatment book or nurse’s notes.” Martha sighed. “It’s a pain in the ass of nursing, I can tell you that much.”
She hadn’t covered her fading purple spots, and noticed Lizzie eyeing them. The instant unease of it set her heart racing.
“Martha, I worry about you sometimes. You need to get married again. Don’t you ever meet any great guys on the job, business moguls, millionaires? They get sick, don’t they?”
Martha laughed. Lizzie always lightened her mood. No need to mention needing a psychiatrist. Who would understand a thing like that? I don’t understand it myself, and I’m scared as hell. I wish I could tell someone, it would be a relief.
“There’s a great looking guy at work, Bob Chance, she answered. “He’s a quiet one, sees things about me and wants to help. He knows about Will and offers his shoulder, so to speak. He’s nice enough, but I can’t get involved just now. I’m in such a whirl over everything. I couldn’t handle a relationship right now and I don’t know if he has lean
ings that way. He’s just a nice guy.”
“Ooh—love his name. You could be Martha Chance if you worked at it. You’re a good lookin’ gal, Martha. Don’t sell yourself short.” Lizzie waggled her head for emphasis, and added, “What’s the purple stuff on your arm there?”
“I don’t know what I got into. Looks like the gram stain solution we used in training, but I don’t remember going near the lab. Whatever, it’s fading now.” Martha shrugged. “Sometimes when I come home, I have about every stain there is on my uniform.”
“Good enough. Girl, you seem to need me just now. Why is that, Martha? You can tell me anything, you know that.” Lizzie’s hazel eyes darkened significantly. They delved too deeply and were too knowing for Martha’s comfort level.
She drew herself up, unable to speak of her fears. She barely eked out a weak reply. “Lizzie, you are without a doubt the best friend I’ve ever had. But for now, I have a lot of worries on my mind, mostly about my grandson, but that’s not all of it. In time, I’ll get things sorted out.”
She felt a tear welling up, “This latest thing on the news set me off all over again. Now two more children have learned to fear for their safety because the law can’t seem to protect us anymore. Where’s it all going to end?” She felt hot salty tears drip down her cheeks.
“God, Martha, you are upset. If I can do anything to help, you know I will. I’d like to be the one to fix those guys myself.” Lizzie couldn’t stop the giggle escaping her lips at the thought of what happened to Callahan.
Martha found herself caught up in it, too. “You’re good for me, Lizzie. You really are.”
They both laughed until tears escaped down their cheeks.
“Lizzie, you are the ever lovin’ limit!” Martha dabbed at her eyes and reached over to give Lizzie a big hug. “I love you, girl. I’m so glad you came over. You’ve saved my life today. Don’t ask me why—you just did!”
After a hasty lunch neither of them really tasted, Lizzie took her leave and Martha felt several degrees lighter for the visit.
She showered and headed to the hospital. “Another shift and I couldn’t care less. I can’t hide my worries, and I’m tired as hell. Hope my patients won’t suffer for it.” She parked her car and went to her assigned ward.
During report, she noticed Bob scoping her out more intensely than usual. Then he quickly looked away. She felt furtive for having noticed and decided she’d speak to him later if she found the time. He seems concerned. Do I look that bad? Does it show that much?
Her patients kept her running the entire shift and she had no chance for a supper break. Heaving a sigh of relief, and with great fatigue, Martha headed out of the hospital toward the sanctuary of her car. Keys in hand, she was about to click it open when felt a solid, warm hand on her arm.
“How about a bite of supper, Martha?”
Bob had moved so close, right next to her elbow. In her worn condition, she hadn’t noticed his nearness, not even the masculine scent of him.
“Oh, hello there,” she mumbled in a voice that sounded weak and thin to her own ears. Startled at how close he stood, she managed a subdued response of refusal. “I’m not hungry, Bob.” She wondered how that sounded to him, but didn’t care. Was he was making a move on her, perhaps a dating overture? In her present state she couldn’t emotionally handle any sort of an intimate relationship. She desperately wanted to go home, go to bed and get away from everything.
“Look, I know you’re worn right down to your toes, but we need to talk. Come on, a bit of dinner might do you good. I happen to know you didn’t have time to eat.” His soft voice held a strong note of urgency and he directed a concerned look deep into her eyes.
His tone, so gentle, yet insistent couldn’t be denied. Martha saw only a look of kindness in his eyes. Realizing she sorely needed a friendly voice just now, she replied, “Okay, I’d love it, where?”
“Oh, Denny’s would do, wouldn’t it?”
At the sound of that name, Martha froze. “Uh—any place but there, Bob. I don’t know why I feel that way, but right now, I do.” She barely got the words out. Why does the name Denny’s, upset me? She hugged herself and waited for his reply.
“Hey, we’ll go to La Fiesta. They’re open late. Okay then?”
Martha nodded her acceptance and they went to Bob’s big GMC four-wheel drive. It was a high climb getting in, so he helped her up. She felt the heat of his hands on her body when he did, and she shivered at that unexpected sensation.
“I don’t want to be nosey, girl,” he said. “But something big has got a grip on you. You need to relax. Maybe a bit of down time will fix your wagon. What’s going on? That is, if you’d want to spill. I’m a damned good listener.”
Martha managed a smile. “A lot has happened and everything has kinda snowballed on me. I can’t talk about it, but I appreciate your company, Bob, I really do.”
His truck, big, warm, and strong, just like him, gave her the feeling of badly needed security. Basking in his gentle masculinity added to the feeling of stability. She realized she felt comfortable with him—an unexpected pleasure.
The loss of her husband Chet had left her alone. Sometimes she felt like an Eskimo woman left out on an ice floe alone to die. No family members, though they helped, had ever filled that great hole in her life. Indeed, they never knew the depths of loneliness his loss had left her to face. They had their own lives, and she wanted them to live peacefully without worrying over her problems.
She’d been more than aloof when men came near, fearing additional pain should she become entangled in a good relationship and face another loss. But now, with something as casual as a snack after work, she’d allowed a male to enter her personal sphere, if only this once. “Nice truck, Bob, rides smooth,” was all she could manage to say.
“Thanks Martha.” He glanced her way, his eyes warm and soft, and hesitated. “You know, I’ve always liked the way you look at work. You’re good with your patients. The way you are makes me think you just might be good people.”
“I always hoped I was.” Relaxing a bit, she nearly giggled, but held it to a chuckle. No need to act the silly female. “You’re one fine nurse yourself, Bob. I’ve watched you, too.” To another nurse, being good at the profession made all the difference in how they were perceived by their peers.
They said no more until he’d ushered her to a seat in La Fiesta. It had the usual Mexican décor: sombreros, serapes, and wildly colorful ollas sitting around filled with brightly colored paper flowers. It wasn’t busy this late—just a few patrons ordering small stuff. They received their colorful menus and ordered. By then, Martha realized she had a ravenous hunger. “This is nice, Bob, I didn’t know I was so hungry.”
He smiled in return, but said nothing and kept looking into her eyes as his long fingers toyed with his napkin.
Martha took a good look at him. He was approaching middle age. His hair, touched with gray, was thick with a hint of curl about it. Slim and fit, about six feet, she guessed as she wondered what his story would be. She’d never heard anything of his personal life, and asked, “How are things for you, these days?”
Sadness edged his smile as he replied, “Not so good in a lot of ways, but I’m handling it. My family’s gone now. Had a bad auto accident a couple of years ago, I made it—they didn’t.”
“Oh Bob—I’m sorry to hear that.” Martha felt tears forming and blinked them away. “We get so tied up in our own lives, we tend to forget that others have been there, too. I didn’t know about your family.”
He shrugged, a half smile spread across his firm mouth. “I’m learning to live with it, but I think about my two younger kids. They’ll never have the chance to marry, or do the things we’d hoped for them. One girl was away at school, so I do have her, but when they leave home, they never really come back, do they?”
Martha felt his pain. She reached out and took his hand. The sorrow in his voice compelled her to offer, “Bad things happen, Bob. We all get a s
hot of it at one time or another, but I have to say, you’ve certainly had more than your share.”
He squeezed her hand and his smile lightened the mood considerably. “Hey thanks, Martha. Looks like we’ve lots of things to share, but for now, let’s relax and have a good evening. And here comes the chow.”
After the waitress set their plates before them, they ate in comfortable silence. The sounds of people murmuring to each other, and the distant clink of dishes and glassware in the background, added to the warmth of their surroundings. Their booth encircled them, and Martha had greatly needed the feeling of security and comfort. The company wasn’t half bad either.
She sighed and smiled at him. A tremor of excitement passed through her at his return glance. Her thoughts lightened even more as he reached out and squeezed her hand again. His touch had an unexpected effect. One she’d never experienced, not even with Chet, her lost love.
“I lost my husband four years ago,” she murmured. “It was tough for me, but you have to go on. I’m sorry to mention it, but things happen, don’t they?”
His eyes held hers with their warmth. “Yeah, I’d have to say they do, so you doing okay with that, these days?”
“Yes. He left me well enough monetarily. I work more to get out of the house and be with people, than for expenses.” After a quiet moment, she went on. “It’s the aloneness, isn’t it?” She laughed. “Sorry, let’s enjoy our dinner—and the company.”
“Hey, it’s okay, and sometime I’d like to hear everything about you.” After they ate, Bob returned her to her vehicle and made sure she got it started before he waved goodnight. Martha felt enveloped in a lovely glow and for a time, forgot her oppressive worries. “How good it is to shelve all my troubles, if only for a little while. I’m off tomorrow, thank God! I’m so tired!”
CHAPTER 10
The Vigilante Page 6