by Arlene James
Wendy stomped her foot impatiently. “Laura! Let’s go!”
Laura pushed her worries away and hurried out of the kitchen. The boys proved more cooperative with her than they had been with Wendy, and she had them in the car in no time. She concentrated on her driving, all too aware that she could not chance another encounter with a traffic cop. She pulled up to the curb in front of Wendy’s school with time to spare. Leaning over, she smoothed Wendy’s hair and repositioned her barrette before kissing her cheek and tugging her hood up.
“Have a good morning, honey. I’ll see you at noon.”
Wendy shoved and kicked and wriggled her way out of the car, then ran up the sidewalk, her little backpack flapping against her spine. Laura couldn’t help thinking how much happier Wendy seemed these days. Had she done that? Was it prideful of her to credit herself with a little of Wendy’s new-found contentment?
She glanced at the boys, who were playing quietly, for once, with tiny cars they’d stashed in their coat pockets, driving them along the padded fronts of their seats and up each other’s arms. She made a mental note of that as she eased the station wagon out into the traffic lane. Maybe she ought to keep a bag of small toys in the car. As she guided the station wagon to a full stop at the sign on the corner, she decided that she’d mention the toy idea to Adam, see what he thought about it. She was smiling to herself as she looked to the right, checking traffic. Then she turned her head left, and her dream world of love everlasting shattered. There, on the crosswalk, a down-filled jacket open over flannel shirt and jeans, was none other than Doyal Moody.
For a moment, she sat frozen, unable to believe what her eyes were seeing and her screaming heart was already telling her was true. It was stupid, devastatingly so, for in the next moment, Doyal’s gaze zeroed in on the car that sat too long at the stop sign. He broke into a run, face contorting in a savage grin, and that seemed to galvanize her. She stomped the accelerator without so much as a glance at the traffic. Her tires squealed. Heads turned as she sped by. She wasn’t certain, but she thought more than one car slammed on its brakes, narrowly avoiding her.
“Laura!”
“Woo!”
She wrenched the wheel and slid around a corner in the opposite direction to where she would normally go. But that wouldn’t fool Doyal for very long. The Fortunes were this town’s most visible citizens. He could find her in a matter of minutes if he just asked the right questions of the right people. At the most, she had a few hours. The boys. Somehow she had to protect the boys. Where could she take them? The house wouldn’t be safe very much longer.
Panic took hold. She was driving much too fast through sleepy city streets, but that fact did not register. All she could think to do was flee, to put as much distance between herself and Doyal as humanly possible. When the police cruiser appeared coming toward her, her first thought was to throw herself in its path and tell everything she knew. But what about Adam and the kids? If Doyal knew about them, he would punish her through them, and yet, in that moment, the police represented safety. She practically stood on her brakes. The police car locked up and skidded to a halt beside her. She caught one glimpse of the face of Officer Raymond Cooper and burst into grateful tears. Then a wave of nausea hit her, and she knew what she had to do. She bailed out of the car and doubled over, vomiting her breakfast onto the pavement. He was at her side in a heartbeat.
“Laura! Honey, you sick?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and started talking fast. “Terribly, terribly sick! I—I was afraid I wouldn’t make it home. It hit me all of a s-sudden. My stomach and—and my head. Oooh…”
“I’ll call for an ambulance.”
“No! I—I mean…I just need to lie down, a-and the boys… I-if you could just take us home. I’ll call Adam’s mother. Mrs. Fortune will know what to do, and—and she’ll take the boys.”
Cooper shook his head. “I don’t know, Laura.”
She resorted to shameless begging. “Please! Oh, please! I just want to go home!”
Her tears seemed to distress him. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Okay. Uh, just let me call in.”
“Thank you. Oh, thank you.”
He walked her over to the car. “Think you can pull it over to the side of the street?”
“Y-yes, but hurry. Please hurry!”
“All right. Won’t be a second.”
She nodded and bowed her head over the steering wheel as he went back to his own vehicle, but there wasn’t time for relief. Doyal could come along at any moment and spot the car. She sat up and jerked the station wagon over to the curb, out of the traffic lane. The boys were babbling questions, but she ignored them until she had the car parked. Then she merely informed them that they were going for a ride in a police car. They cheered. Thankfully, the whole thing was one big adventure to them. Cooper came and helped her transfer the boys and their car seats to the back of his cruiser. She was careful to keep her gaze averted and an arm folded across her middle. Within moments, they were traveling back the way she had come. Laura huddled down in the seat, shivering from the effects of her shock.
“You’re having chills,” Cooper said. He reached beneath the seat and brought out a dull green blanket. “Wrap up in this.”
Laura took the blanket gratefully and wrapped it around her head and shoulders like a shawl. If they encountered Doyal again, maybe he wouldn’t recognize her.
They reached the house outside town without further incident. It had never looked so dear to Laura. Raymond Cooper helped her and the boys inside, then insisted on calling Adam’s mother himself. Laura thanked him profusely and took herself off to the bathroom to pretend she was throwing up. After what seemed an eternity, Erica Fortune knocked on the door.
“Laura? Darling, come out here and let me look at you.”
Laura had little doubt that her stricken face would support her tale of illness. She kept her arm around her middle and leaned against the wall in the hallway. “Thank God,” she said, keeping her distance from Erica, as if afraid she’d communicate illness to the older woman. “Is Officer Cooper still here?”
“No, I sent that kind young man on his way.”
She nodded, relieved, despite her regret at having used him so shamelessly. “Can you take the boys home with you?”
“Of course, but—”
“And pick up Wendy at noon.”
Erica made an impatient sound. “Yes, dear, don’t worry about the children. But what about you? You can’t stay here alone like this.”
Laura groaned. “Oh, Erica, please. I just want to go to bed and pull the covers up over my head. The worst of it’s over, and now I just want to sleep. Besides, I can’t expose the whole family to this nasty bug.”
“I think I should call Adam.”
“No! Not today, of all days. This day is too important to him. Besides, what could he do except watch me sleep?”
Erica seemed to consider, one perfectly manicured nail pressed against her chin. “Well, the cook will be in soon. If she would look in on you from time to time…”
“I’m sure Beverly won’t mind,” Laura told her, seizing on that notion. “She’ll probably want to make me one of her hot toddies, too, and that’s just what I need. Now you go on, and take the boys with you. Please.”
Erica nodded and held out her mink-clad arms in a gesture of helplessness. “I’m sorry you’re unwell.”
“Thank you, just take care of my…the boys.” It occurred to her suddenly that she would never see them again, and tears gathered in her red-rimmed eyes.
“You go straight to bed,” Erica ordered, and Laura nodded miserably.
The twins went without a backward glance, delighted at this change in their routine. Laura crept up to the door and watched through the peephole until they were tucked safely into their grandmother’s luxury auto. Then she laid her forehead against that door and wept for all she was losing.
Finally she pulled herself together and went to the phone. She first called
Beverly, telling her not to come in under any circumstances and using her supposed illness as the reason. Next she called a little motel on the far side of Minneapolis and booked a room. Then she called a taxi and went to pack. It didn’t take long to throw her belongings into her bag. She hadn’t come with very much, and she didn’t intend to leave with any more. In a fit of sentimentality, she laid her pink dress and coat out on the bed, placed the shoes beside them and laid the jewelry on the pillow. Only the underclothes did she keep. After she’d sprinkled the clothes on the bed with her tears, she carried her bag into the hall and squared her shoulders for the ordeal ahead.
The money was exactly where he’d put it only weeks ago. She pulled the folded bills from the hidden cubbyhole and tucked them into her pocket. Then she wrote a brief note, dropped it inside and closed the secret compartment. She took a last look around the room. Here on this bed, Adam had made love to her. The light and warmth from that fireplace had glowed upon her skin. Her clothing had lain here and there and there. Her head had rested upon that pillow. Her heart had known true joy in this very place. Tears rolling down her face, she turned and left it all behind. It was her final and greatest gift to those she loved. Safety. It was all she had left to give.
Adam let himself into the house through the garage, wondering why the car was gone at this time of night. It was nearly ten. The children couldn’t be awake now, and yet Laura would not have left them alone. She must have had mechanical trouble of some sort, at which point she would have called someone for help. He felt a pang of regret that he had not been close at hand, but then he smiled wolfishly. He would make his apologies in ardent fashion.
He stashed his coat and briefcase in the foyer closet and moved swiftly down the hall toward the den. He knew before he got there that she wouldn’t be waiting. The room was dark, the television off. A small light burned in the kitchen. He pushed through the swinging door. The light over the stove was on, but nothing else. The breakfast dishes were still stacked in the sink. What had happened to Beverly? What had happened to lunch and dinner? The hair rose on the back of his neck. He tore out of the room and flew down the hall.
Training overcame fear as he drew near Wendy’s room. He stopped and pressed himself against the wall for a moment. This was crazy. Nothing could have happened to his family in the short space of one day. And yet… He steeled himself and tiptoed into his daughter’s room, switching on the lamp beside the bed. The bed was unmade, but Wendy was not there. He strode from that room to the next. The boys’ room was in identical condition, beds unmade but empty. Something was wrong.
He swung out into the hall and ran to her door, throwing it open. “Laura! Laura, answer me!”
He knew by the very feel of the darkness that she was not there, and yet he had to see. He fumbled with the overhead light switch. Brightness flooded the room. Laura’s bed was neatly made. Her dress and coat and shoes had been arranged upon it. The closet door stood open, showing empty hangers.
“God, no! Laura, no!”
He yanked open dresser drawers. Empty. Empty. All empty. He slammed them shut again, one by one. Gone! How dare she leave him now? She had to know how much he loved her, how much he needed her. What about his children? She had let them love her. She had let them need her. How could she leave them without warning? He couldn’t believe this. For a moment, anger overwhelmed all other emotions. He lunged the two steps to the bed, grabbed the lamp on the table at its head and threw it savagely against the wall. The shade bounced away. The glass base shattered satisfyingly against the wall, but it didn’t help. He reached down and yanked the spread from the bed, sending her clothes flying. The dress hit him across the chest and shoulder. He ripped it away, crushing it in his hands. The unique perfume of Laura wafted up to fill his head and then his heart.
He dropped down onto the edge of her bed, forcing away the pain that flooded in behind the anger. He had to think. He had to reason this out. But none of it made sense. Only this morning, she had promised to be here when he got home. Only this morning… And she wouldn’t have taken the kids with her. She wouldn’t have gone away and left him nothing. Where were his children? He got up and made himself go into his own bedroom, trailing the dress from his hand. For a moment, he couldn’t think why he’d come, but then he turned and checked the answering machine on his desk. The red light was on, indicating that a message had been left. He rewound the tape with shaking hands and played it. His mother’s voice greeted him.
“This is Erica. I was calling to check on Laura. I hope you’re sleeping, dear, and that you’re feeling better now. The children seem fine, no signs of illness. Give me a call to let me know that you’re all right, darling. Bye.”
The children. His mother had the children. No signs of illness… Was Laura ill? Would she have left him because of illness? It seemed preposterous. The tape beeped, indicating another message. His mother again.
“Laura, I’m really getting worried. Wendy says that some of the kids at school saw a man running after your car at the intersection. Please call me right away.”
A man? A man at the school had chased her car? He shook his head. He would not believe that Laura had left him for another man. He could not believe that. Who, then, had chased her? And why?
The third message was from Beverly. “Laura, Mr. Fortune, I was just wondering if I should plan on coming in tomorrow. You didn’t say anything about it when you called earlier today, Laura. I hope you’re feeling better. Um, someone needs to call me, I guess. Thanks.”
So Laura had called Beverly and told her not to come in today, supposedly because she, Laura, was ill. But if Laura was ill, where was she? Why would she have left and taken all of her clothes?
The final message made his blood run cold. “Adam,” his father’s voice said, “your mother is very concerned. She sent a man over to the house to check on Laura, but no one was there. She says Laura was ill earlier in the day, and she’s called all the hospitals in the area and the police. Your station wagon is sitting abandoned on the street. Some police officer apparently took her home earlier, but now she’s gone, disappeared. Anyway, it’s a mess. You’d better call, son, or better yet, come over right away.”
Adam tossed the dress on the desk and started for the door, but suddenly he stopped and turned back. If Laura had left and meant never to return, she would have needed money. He bent over the desk again, quickly popping open the secret compartment. Gone. The money was gone, and in its place lay a white slip of paper. He extracted it gingerly, his fingers shaking so badly that he had to try twice to unfold it.
I.O.U., more than I can ever repay. I’m sorry, my love. I tried to stay. I hoped to stay. But it wasn’t meant to be. The past has caught up with me, and I must go, for all our sakes. Please don’t try to find me. I know you’ll do your best to make the children understand. Be safe and happy.
Laura.
Happy? he thought. Didn’t she know that he couldn’t be happy without her? But the telling word was safe. Why shouldn’t he be safe? He reread a portion of the letter aloud. “The past has caught up with me, and I must go, for all our sakes.” He ran a hand through his hair and wandered toward the bed, dropping down on its edge. What did it mean? Who was the man at the intersection? Why hadn’t she trusted him enough to tell him what threatened her from the past? Suddenly he remembered exactly what she’d said that morning when he told her to forget putting back his dinner, that she was all he wanted, all he needed to find waiting for him when he got home.
Nothing short of death or the threat of it could keep me away.
Oh, God. She was in trouble, desperate trouble, trouble so desperate that she was trying to protect him and the children from it. No matter what she had written, he had to find her. He had to find her and bring her home. Before it was too late.
“Did you see the man at all, Rob?”
Robbie shrugged sleepily. “I dunno.”
“Try to think about it, son. Did you see somebody in the street, maybe?”
“Oh, that man,” Ryan said, sitting up a little straighter on the bed. “He pointed at our car.”
“Laura went real fast!” Robbie reported eagerly. “We went woo-woo-eeeee!” He pantomimed skidding around a corner.
“When did Laura get sick?” Adam asked pointedly.
The boys looked at each other and shrugged. “When the policeman stopped us,” Ryan began.
“She got out and puked!” Robbie finished.
“And that’s when the policeman took you home?”
They both nodded vigorously. Adam looked at his mother, who stood behind his shoulder. “Did you get a name?”
“Uh, Crocker. No, Cooper.”
Raymond Cooper. Yes, that made sense. If Laura could have convinced anyone to give her and the boys a ride home, it would have been Cooper. But what had made her speed through town like that? What had made her ill? Fear. Fear for her life. That had been it all along. Laura hadn’t been saving her money to go to college. She’d been stashing cash in case she had to run. That was why she wouldn’t promise to stay. It had nothing to do with ambition. It had to do with wanting to stay alive—and protect the family. She might have been sick with fear, but she’d had the presence of mind to ditch the car in which her pursuer had spotted her and find another way home. She’d sent the kids away to safety first thing, and then she’d made certain that Beverly wouldn’t be in the house if he tracked her to it.
Adam stood and absently ruffled the heads of his twin boys, then quickly tucked them in and kissed them. “I’m going to tuck in your sister,” he said, smiling, “then I’m going to get Laura and bring her home. You enjoy your stay with your grandmother, okay?”
Ryan nodded and rolled onto his side, folding his hands beneath his cheek, but Robbie looked up at his father with wide, worried eyes. “Where is Laura?”
Adam smoothed back his son’s unruly hair. “I think she went off by herself to protect us, um, from what was making her sick,” he said carefully. Robbie seemed satisfied with that. He turned his back to his brother and closed his eyes.