The Devil's Cradle

by Sylvia Nobel

  A sudden thought struck me. I rose, quietly picked up Audrey’s purse from the night stand and tiptoed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and snapping on the light.

  I opened it, fished out Audrey’s birth certificate and skimmed past the information I’d read earlier to the bottom of the document. Confirmation of my hunch sent a chill zinging through me. The name of the delivering physician was Dr. Miles Orcutt.

  Chapter 6

  The repetitious hammering annoyed me because I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Struggling to raise eyelids that felt as if someone had come in the night and weighed them down with anchors, I suddenly realized what it was. Someone was knocking at the bedroom door. “Yes?” I called out in a sleep-clogged voice, sitting up on the side of the bed.

  The door edged open as Audrey stirred and Mrs. Orcutt stuck her head in. “Miss Morgan, if you want to talk to the doctor this morning you’ll have to catch him before he starts seeing patients at the clinic.” Her clipped voice held no trace of warmth.

  “What time is it?” Audrey asked.

  “Eight o’clock.” She began to withdraw, but stopped, adding the aside, “Oh, Miss Morgan, I hope you won’t find it necessary to involve my husband in any problems that may occur concerning this situation. He has not been well recently and has been advised to avoid too much stress.”

  I wondered how that was possible for a doctor, but said nothing as the door clicked shut. In response to the woman’s terse statement, Audrey sat hugging herself in stony silence.

  Well, this was probably it. Judging by her look of total dejection, it seemed clear that our time in Morgan’s Folly was about to expire. Pangs of disappointment and hunger mingled in my stomach as I rose with a resigned sigh and slipped into a fresh pair of blue jeans. Whitey’s special combo plate and the sandwich I’d eaten before bed were long gone and I was starving again. Perhaps it was the higher altitude and cooler temperatures.

  “Kendall,” she announced so suddenly, I flinched. “I’ve made my decision. I’m going to meet with Dr. Orcutt.”

  Considering her confused frame of mind last night, I was surprised, but my spirits lifted immediately. “All right. While you’re doing that, I’m going to do a little exploring on my own.”

  “No. I want you to come with me.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, most likely he’s going to be telling you some very personal and maybe painful things about your family.”

  She tightened her jaw. “I know. But I have to find out what happened eighteen years ago and I’d just feel better if you were there with me. For support.”

  “Boy, I don’t know,” I muttered, tucking my shirt into the waistband. “When he finds out I’m a reporter, he may be reluctant to talk in front of me.”

  In a show of stubbornness I wouldn’t have thought possible, she said, “Well, we don’t have to tell him.”

  I shook my head. “He’s going to discover it eventually.”

  She threw back the bedcovers and rose. “Fine, but he doesn’t have to find out this morning. I’ll tell him you’re my friend. That’s all he has to know.”

  I cracked a smile. “Okay. You’re the boss.”

  Enticed by the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee and frying bacon, Audrey and I tromped downstairs and entered the kitchen we’d seen only in shadow the night before. My feelings for the doctor’s cold-fish-of-a-wife softened a touch when we learned that she’d left instructions for us to be served breakfast by her smiling maid who directed us to the clinic when we’d finished.

  A cheerful chorus of birdsong greeted us as we stepped outside. It was a glorious morning. The sky was a sharp, clear blue and the air was perfumed with the scent of roses from Mrs. Orcutt’s well-tended garden.

  As we walked uphill to the clinic, dappled sunlight filtering through the lacy overhang of trees, reflected back at us from the puddles of rain water left over from yesterday’s storm.

  As I reached for the doorknob of the one-story whitewashed building, Audrey’s fingers abruptly encircled my wrist. There was a faint gleam of panic in her eyes.

  Knowing what I knew now, I understood her misgivings. She’d endured enough bad news to traumatize anyone and there was no telling what awaited her from this point. “There’s still time for you to change your mind,” I said softly.

  She gave her head a vehement shake and took several measured breaths. “It’s okay. I just needed a minute. I’m ready now.”

  Flashing her a smile of encouragement, I gave her hand a quick squeeze and we stepped into the small waiting area.

  “Doctor won’t be seeing patients until ten,” called a middle-aged Hispanic woman from behind a partially glass-enclosed barrier to our right. “Do you ladies need an appointment?”

  “No,” I answered, noting that her nametag read: Anna Hernandez. “Dr. Orcutt is expecting us. You can tell him Audrey Morgan is here.”

  I watched closely to see if Audrey’s name sparked recognition, but her expression remained impassive. She spoke quietly into the phone and then directed us down a short hallway to a door marked PRIVATE. Audrey exchanged a final it’s-now-or-never-glance with me and rapped on the door.

  A gravelly voice called for us to enter and she swung the door open to reveal a gray-haired man of perhaps sixty-five seated behind a large, paper-strewn desk. An inscrutable look passed over his austere features as his gaze flickered past me and settled on Audrey. Slowly, he rose and came around the desk to cradle both her hands in his. “Well, well, well. So you’re little Audrey, all grown up. And beautiful, just like your mother.” His deep voice conveyed a wistful note, but I detected a trace of anxiety behind his faded blue eyes when they turned on me. “And who might you be?”

  “Kendall O’Dell is a friend of mine,” Audrey cut in before I could reply. “Anything you have to say is okay for her to hear.”

  Seemingly unimpressed by my cordial smile, he adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and proceeded to engage me in one of those relentless eye duels people often do when they’re trying to exhibit superiority. He blinked first. “Please sit down,” he said at length, indicating two chairs facing his desk.

  While he fiddled with several sets of Venetian blinds, slanting the bright beams of sunlight toward the ceiling, Audrey perched stiffly on the edge of the chair, her efforts to appear serene defeated by the whiteness of her tightly-knotted fingers.

  With both of them pre-occupied for a moment, I surreptitiously opened my purse and started my miniature tape recorder as the doctor settled once again behind the desk.

  Watching him shuffle through the papers, I got the distinct impression that he was delaying the inevitable and seemed to be gathering his thoughts when Audrey burst out, “I met my cousins last night. They said some horrible things to me.”

  “If you’d done...”

  She kept talking. “Why did you do it? Why did you allow people to think we were dead all this time?”

  Dr. Orcutt’s lips compressed into a flat line, straining the chords in his neck. “My wife, Fran, told me you’d stopped at the Muleskinner. It’s unfortunate that you didn’t follow my instructions and come to the house first. I wanted to spare you...”

  “Never mind about that now,” she snapped, her voice rising shrilly. “Just tell me!” Then, as if regretting her outburst, she softened her tone. “I’m sorry. Please.”

  His gaze turned chilly and I thought his demeanor curiously unsympathetic for a man of his profession. “It was not my idea,” he said quietly. “It was your mother’s. She said it was the only way she’d ever feel completely safe from your father. Believe me, not a day has gone by that I haven’t questioned the wisdom of what we did, but I made her a promise and I fully intend to keep it.”

  “She said almost those exact words in her letter,” Audrey marveled.

  “May I see it?”

  She rummaged in her purse and handed him the paper. He read it slowly, his eyes clouding with an emotion difficult to interpret. I did get the impression, h
owever, that he read the last line several times before handing the letter back to her.

  “I want you to understand something. I was not in favor of your mother’s ninth-inning decision. I knew it would create an emotional upheaval for you and frankly, it has placed me in a rather awkward position, but...” He blew out a heavy sigh before adding, “I could not, in good conscience, deny her final request. Especially since I may have been inadvertently responsible.”

  Audrey fixed him with a dubious frown. “What do you mean?”

  “One day, during a telephone conversation, I mentioned in passing that plans were in the works to re-open the mine. Unfortunately, that fact, coupled with her illness, apparently altered her thinking process. Then, your father’s unexpected death forced me to put in motion the sequence of events that brought you here. But,” he continued, “be that as it may, the remainder of my promise to her was that certain things about the past never be discussed. You must appreciate the fact that she was not only a loyal employee and cherished friend, but also a patient.”

  Audrey looked perplexed. “So...what exactly are you saying? “

  “It means that I will tell you only what I feel is pertinent and no more. And if you press me, I’ll invoke doctor/patient confidentiality,” he said flatly.

  Audrey’s eyes grew round with outrage. “But...but...you can’t do that! I came all this way. You can’t...I mean, it’s not right...” Her words dissolved into tearful babbling, so I laid a gentle hand on her arm while locking eyes with Dr. Orcutt. “This is a small town. She’s bound to hear things from other people. In fact, she already has.”

  He accepted my words with a nod of affirmation. “So be it, Miss O’Dell. I cannot control what other people may say. But she will not hear it from me.” His crisp note of finality discouraged further argument. “Now,” he said, facing Audrey once more as he folded his hands on the desk, “let me tell you what you came to hear.”

  Not only did the man’s bedside manner need a little sprucing up, but more importantly, he acted suspiciously like a man with something to hide, doctor’s oath or not.

  “Your mother came to work for me not long after she graduated from nursing school. I believe that was around 1965 and then…”

  “I never knew she was a nurse until your wife told me last night,” Audrey interjected in a hushed voice.

  “She had her reasons, which I will get to. Anyway, she hadn’t been with me too many years when her first husband was killed in a mining accident.”

  “What?” she demanded, looking positively stupefied. “She was married to someone else before my father?”

  Dr. Orcutt’s uptight expression softened somewhat. “There are probably quite a few things your mother never told you, but you will soon understand why. May I go on?” She nodded mutely.

  “Three years later, she married your father. Besides the significant age difference, I’m afraid it was not a happy match,” he said with a sad shake of his head.

  “Why?” Audrey asked.

  “Because Grady was...well, Grady.”

  Audrey brandished the letter. “My mother said he was evil. What did she mean by that?”

  His eyes grew distant. “Your father was a rather complex individual. It wasn’t easy being one of Jeb Morgan’s kids. The old man set impossibly high standards to follow when all Grady wanted was to have a good time. As a result he got pretty ornery and as he grew older, his antics garnered quite a reputation around town. He was cocky and rebellious. Just a plain bull-headed fool at times. Unfortunately for everyone those character traits were not the worst of his shortcomings.”

  “What else?” Audrey asked, recoiling as though she’d rather not hear.

  “Alcohol. Most people can handle a couple of drinks with few side effects but some…can turn into monsters.” He paused, as if remembering something then went on. “I’m afraid there were times he vented his anger on your mother.”

  Audrey’s face paled. “You...you mean he’d hit her?”

  He nodded. “Once in a while he’d go on a binge and…things happened.”

  “Why on earth would she marry a man like that?” Audrey whispered.

  “Because, when he was sober, he could be a charmer too. Your father was one hell of a good-looking man. And he was clever, very clever, but certainly not motivated to work like his father and brother, Oliver.”

  “I have an uncle too?”

  “Not anymore. He was killed in the same accident as your mother’s first husband. It was a tragic, tragic day. The old man, well...losing his oldest son almost killed him too. Oliver was a helluva nice guy. Helluva nice guy.”

  For a long moment he seemed lost in the past, but then his eyes cleared and he concluded briskly, “But, that’s the lot of a miner. It’s hard work. It’s dirty. And at times, quite dangerous.”

  “Did my father work down in the mine too?” Audrey asked.

  “Your father hated the family business and even when he assumed control after Jeb died, he avoided going down into the mine whenever he could.” His eyes lit up like he wanted to add something else, but he didn’t voice it. “Let me get back to what I was saying. After you were born, Rita continued to put up with your father’s abuse until she came to me one night crying hysterically.” He halted momentarily as if to dispel the memory, then continued in a voice thick with emotion. “She’d been...badly beaten, and she was holding you in her arms, unconscious.”

  “Oh, my God,” Audrey gasped, pressing a hand to her throat. “I don’t remember any of this.”

  “You were just a child,” he blurted out, his voice suddenly bitter, his eyes ablaze. “And your mother’s beautiful face...all bruised...he’d broken her nose...he’d...if only I’d done more to prevent...”

  The jangle of the phone terminated his sentence, and I almost winced aloud in frustration when he reached for the receiver. Damn it. There went the first genuine display of emotion he’d shown since we’d sat down. The rest of his story seemed a little too carefully contrived.

  “You okay?” I whispered to Audrey. She nodded silently, her lips pinched together so hard they looked as bloodless as the rest of her face.

  “If you’ll excuse me just a moment,” Dr. Orcutt muttered, swiveling his chair to face the window to my right. The unexpected break gave me an opportunity to scrutinize him further.

  Dr. Orcutt looked like hell. His sallow, deeply-grooved face was webbed with wrinkles, broken blood vessels were clustered in and around his sunken eyes, and I was shocked to notice an ashtray and partially-smoked pack of cigarettes on the credenza behind him. Apparently he paid little heed to the phrase, Physician, Heal Thyself.

  A million questions jockeyed for position in my mind, but I felt certain he’d stonewall me if I broached them. However, that didn’t concern me too much. Knowing small towns the way I did, knowing how closely people’s lives intertwined, knowing that secrets seemingly buried forever beneath the surface can boil to the top with a vengeance, gave me confidence that I’d be able to plug the missing pieces into this puzzle.

  Pretending to hunt for something in my purse, I turned over the tape in my hand-held recorder and settled back in the chair just as he cradled the phone. He apologized for the interruption and continued his narrative. The catalyst that fateful night eighteen years ago had been Rita announcing her intention to seek a divorce. Grady had gone into a mad rage and grabbed her, vowing that if she tried to leave he would kill her. She’d broken away and made it to the stair landing where he’d caught her again. Her screams awakened Audrey, who’d come onto the scene and, in the melee, been inadvertently knocked down the stairs.

  “You had a concussion,” Dr. Orcutt stated somberly, “and your mother begged me to help her escape. I argued against it, but she was absolutely terrified of Grady so I finally agreed. I loaned her one of my cars and she left with nothing but some jewelry and the clothes on her back.”

  Audrey swallowed convulsively. “So, my father really was an evil man.”

 
Dr. Orcutt steepled his hands beneath his nose and stared vacantly a moment before answering. “Let me put it to you this way. Grady could be your best friend and worst enemy at the same instant.”

  His answer fascinated me, but Audrey looked just plain befuddled.

  The rest of the tale played out pretty much as I suspected. Rita had left Arizona that night, never settling long in one place and staying in touch with Dr. Orcutt every few weeks. Now and then he would wire her money.

  When he alerted her to the fact that Grady had hired a reputable private detective agency to track her down, she decided to seek a new identity for herself and Audrey. She prevailed upon Miles to convey the news to Grady that they had died in a car crash in Oklahoma, in hopes that it would end his search for her.

  “Excuse me, Doctor,” I had to ask, “being that you’re a medical professional, didn’t you feel that was a bit unethical?”

  He fired me a look of disdain and snapped, “Considering all that was at stake, Miss O’Dell, it seemed the best course of action at the time.” Turning back to Audrey, he added, “I put her in touch with an elderly aunt who lived in the Pittsburgh area so you and your mother finally settled there.”

  “So, Aunt Nell was your aunt?” she croaked, barely above a whisper. “But...why did my mother work as a housekeeper? Why didn’t she take a nursing job?”

  He shrugged. “She was afraid if she got paid in anything besides cash, she could be traced through her Social Security number. Everything was going smoothly until she realized she would have to produce a birth certificate when you entered kindergarten. She was so paranoid that somehow Grady would still find you that...well, she persuaded me to help her fashion a new one that altered the place of birth, and as an added precaution, she changed your birthday to April of the following year.”

  This was just too good. Fantastic copy, I thought happily. I already had enough for a blockbuster series of articles, and I had a feeling that by the time I uncovered what he wasn’t telling us, I’d have enough to fill a book.