Saving Madeline

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  She stirred as Parker rose to his feet, folding her tightly against his chest. He rocked her until she buried her face in his shirt and was still. It’ll all be over soon, he promised. Turning, he tripped over the jumble of stuffed animals on the floor, but he caught himself in time. The dresser was open, and clothes peeked out this way and that. She wouldn’t need them.

  He was nearing the bedroom door when footsteps made him freeze. There was no time to hide before the other bedroom door was flung open. Dakota, most likely. He stood motionless in the darkness as she stumbled to the bathroom down the hall, not shutting the door behind her. The sound of urination filled the quiet of the house.

  Parker swore under his breath. The closet—he should hide there. But if she were to check on the children, the missing girl would be noticed immediately. Then he’d have to do something to prevent the mother from calling anyone.

  Or he could put Madeline back in her bed.

  Swiftly, he crossed the room and laid the child down, pulling the larger blanket over her to hide the furry one. Then he sprinted to the closet.

  He needn’t have worried. The woman didn’t come in the children’s bedroom, yet she didn’t shut her door, either. He waited for her to fall asleep again, though he knew every minute put him closer to discovery.

  After fifteen minutes, he could wait no longer. Again Parker knelt by the bed and scooped up the little girl. This time she didn’t react but slept on like an angel. Down the dark hallway he went, shuffling slowly to be sure he didn’t trip over anything. Then he was at the front door, shutting it behind him and stepping quietly over crunchy mounds of snow. The truck was parked between this house and the neighbor’s. He climbed inside and, still holding the child, started the engine.

  The cab was cold—he hadn’t planned for the wait inside the house—but he’d brought blankets. Headlights appeared ahead, and he stiffened until a car passed, the lights fading behind him. He should have borrowed his friend’s car again instead of using his own truck, but that hadn’t been possible tonight, and he couldn’t afford to wait. The cost might be too high.

  Two blocks away, he stopped and settled Madeline on the seat next to him, tucking blankets around her to help her feel secure. The faint red lights from the dashboard barely illuminated

  her baby face, but he could see that her eyes had opened, small slits in her chubby roundness. “Daddy? Is that you?”

  The light made it difficult for her to really see much of anything, and her apparent trust made the ache in his chest intensify. Parker swallowed, the dryness hurting his throat. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Sleep, now. That’s my girl.”

  Obediently, she shut her eyes and was lost again in her dreams.

  He drove to I-15, heading south. What he wouldn’t give for a drink. Just a sip to burn a little warmth down his throat. He knew it was a battle he’d fight for the rest of his life, but no way would he let that vice steal what he had worked so hard to achieve. His entire life and future were tied up in that little girl lying there so peacefully on the seat. He must arrive at his destination. Then he could decide what to do next.

  • • •

  Parker reached Mt. Pleasant in two hours. Normally, he could have shaved off twenty minutes or more of the journey, but he didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. Not that there were too many policemen out at this time. He was, however, starting to pass people driving north or south to their jobs in bigger neighboring towns. There wasn’t much to do by way of work in Mt. Pleasant, unless you happened to work at the gas station or grocery store.

  He passed the family-owned Kathy’s Herb Shoppe on Main Street and turned the corner to his mother’s house, pulling up in the driveway and jumping out to punch in the code on the side of the garage. Normally, he’d park outside if he came so early, but today he didn’t want to risk his truck being seen. The stop was necessary in his mind, though, because he needed to talk to his mother, to prepare her for what was going to happen. He was all Norma Hathaway had left.

  She was waiting by the kitchen door when he entered with his key. In one hand she held the telephone, in the other a can of pepper spray. When she saw him, the anxious look on her tired face vanished, and she stepped toward the door, rapidly punching in the code for the alarm he had installed last year when there had been a rash of burglaries in the neighborhood. Petty things like small TVs and thin gold bands had gone missing, but worse was the violation people had felt. They didn’t have a lot in this town, and Parker had wondered why anyone would target them—until a gang of teenagers had been arrested. Biggest news of the city in the past decade. At least before today. By evening, his mother would be the recipient of many meals and desserts from the neighbors, outpourings of their love and sympathy over her loss.

  “Have you been drinking?” she asked, studying him carefully.

  He shook his head, irritated but not angry. “No.”

  She had a right to suspect him, though he hadn’t let her down in a long time. She would probably always wonder if he would fail, and her constant worry and fear alone were enough to keep him sober—even if he hadn’t already decided that he would never return to his old ways.

  One thing both of them would agree upon: his actions of this night were not a failure. Though his mother hadn’t known of his plan, she would be happy he’d succeeded. She knew what was at stake every bit as much as he did.

  “Look,” Parker said, speaking urgently. “I’m only here for a few minutes. Have to work this morning.” He was employed at a construction site in Manti, a good half hour’s drive from Mt. Pleasant.

  “Why are you here?” Her hands were on her sturdy hips, and her brown eyes that matched the shoulder-length hair were intense.

  In answer, Parker took her hand and led her out to the garage. She hesitated when one of her slippers fell off, and he impatiently waited for her to put it back on. “People are going to be coming around asking questions,” he said. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

  They stood on the passenger side of his truck now, and he gestured toward the window. His mother was short and had to stand on tiptoe to see inside. It always amused people that Norma could be so short while Parker and his brother had been such tall, strapping boys. Like their father. But he didn’t want to think about his father or his brother. There had been no love lost between them during his growing up years, and he still paid the price for that every day of his life.

  “Madeline,” Norma breathed. She stepped back, flung open the door, and reached for the child.

  “No.” Parker held her back. “Don’t wake her. I’ve got to get her to Manti before I go to work.”

  “But who’ll watch her?”

  “I have someone.”

  Norma’s brow wrinkled. “Someone she knows?”

  Parker shook his head. “She’s used to strangers.”

  “Let me come with you.” Her brown eyes were ringed in small wrinkles, really the only place that showed her fifty-seven years. Wrinkles born of great suffering.

  “I don’t want you involved. People are going to be asking questions. I only came here so you’d know she’s okay when the questions come. But I can’t tell you where I’m taking her, and you can’t admit to anyone that I was even here.”

  “You’re going away. I’ll never see you again.” Panic laced Norma’s voice.

  “No.” He shook his head. “If it comes to that, we’ll go together.”

  “It will come to that. Dakota won’t let it rest.”

  “Maybe she will.”

  “Then the law won’t.”

  “I can’t let Madeline get hurt!” Desperation tightened his chest. “I have to protect her.”

  “I know.” His mother’s arms went around him, as comforting as they had been when he was a child. “I’ll get my stuff taken care of,” she whispered. “Don’t you worry. I’ll sell the house, cash out everything. We’ll disappear.”

  He knew how much it cost her to say that. This was her home. S
he’d come here as a young bride, raised two sons, and become a widow. She was offering to leave all her friends and extended family.

  “It might not be necessary.”

  “It will. You can’t hide.”

  “Maybe I can—for long enough. Maybe the authorities will find out about Dakota.”

  “Maybe.”

  Parker drew back and shut the truck door.

  “You call and let me know where she is.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll be here sometime during the weekend, same as always. This time without Madeline.” That was a given because his daughter would have to remain in hiding, but he wanted his mother prepared. She lived for Madeline’s visits.

  “I love you, Parker. Don’t you forget that.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  “Grandma?” Madeline was sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

  This wasn’t going at all as Parker had planned. He shouldn’t have stopped. Now if the authorities caught him, Madeline would remember that she’d seen her grandmother.

  Norma opened the truck door and gathered the little girl into a hug. “Oh, baby. It’s so good to see you. But you have to lie down now and go back to sleep. You and your daddy are taking a little trip.”

  Madeline grinned. “I like trips with Daddy.” She yawned. “Is it my birthday again?” For her fourth birthday two months ago, he had taken her to Disneyland.

  “Not yet,” Parker told her. “And we’re not going to Disneyland, but we’ll have fun anyway.”

  “That’s right.” Norma patted the seat. “You’re tired, sweetie. Lay your head right there and take a little nap.”

  Madeline yawned again. “Okay, Grandma.”

  Parker exchanged a meaningful look with his mother. “I’d better get going.”

  “Yes. You’d better.”

  He hugged Norma and whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry. Sorry for all of this. I’m sorry it’s going to be so awful for you.” Answering questions, lying for him and Madeline—who knew what she might be forced to do? He knew her well enough to understand that a little part of her would die every time she took a step closer to the wrong side of the law. That he felt the same showed he’d come a long way.

  “I’m stronger than you think,” she said. “I’ll manage. You just keep her safe.”

  He drove to Manti, not to the small apartment he shared with two guys from work but to a small, run-down house on the edge of town that he’d rented fully furnished for less than he’d expected. There was still time to change Madeline’s hair color and her clothes before the local girl he’d hired came to baby-sit, a girl who barely spoke English, and whose family had reasons of their own not to contact authorities. Then he’d drive his truck back to his apartment and climb in his window in time to “wake up” with the other guys.

  He’d tried to think of everything, but what if he’d missed something important? His heart banged in his chest with a fierceness he hadn’t felt since that first time Dakota had left him and taken Madeline, and he’d realized he had no way to protect his daughter.

  For now, at least, Madeline was safe.

  As he carried her inside, her arms went up around his neck. “I’m glad you came and got me, Daddy. I missed you.”

  Tears gathered in his eyes. “We’re together now. And I’m not ever letting you go again if I can help it.”

  Chapter 3

  Caitlin met police detective Sally Crumb at the Judge Café on Broadway that served only breakfast and lunch until three in the afternoon. They both enjoyed the food and the ambience—along with dozens of other downtown workers, many of them attorneys—so it was a frequent choice for their weekly lunches together. That it was within walking distance of the courthouse made it an extra plus for Caitlin. She detested fighting the busy traffic.

  When Caitlin arrived, her cheeks tingling with cold from her brisk walk, Sally was already waiting in one of the many niches the restaurant owners had carved out when remodeling the historic building. Pictures of old Salt Lake stretched over the dark wood of the bar, and the architectural features of the walls were accented by the paint’s subdued yellow tone.

  “How is the arson trial going?” Sally asked as Caitlin set down her briefcase and shrugged off her full-length gray wool coat.

  “Horrendous. I mean, we’re not contesting the fact that my client started the fire, so why bring in all that evidence? We would have finished already if not for all of that.” She rubbed her fingers to warm them. “They won’t be able to convict him of first degree murder, though.”

  “But he intentionally lit the fire that caused a death, so it should still be murder one.” Sally tucked the strands of her short bleached hair behind her ears, making it look even shorter. She was tall for a woman, and if the weight she carried had been on a man’s frame, she would have still been considered on the slender side, but on her, the wide shoulders and hips lent an impressive air of solid authority. Yet Sally was all woman, and a pretty one at that, from her size eleven shoes to her expressive, wide-set brown eyes.

  Caitlin sighed. “He didn’t intend to burn the building down exactly. At least so he claims, and he seems to have a lot of friends who support that claim.”

  “Seems?” Sally arched a thin brow.

  “After the testimony today, the DA offered a plea deal. Arson and manslaughter. I’m urging my client to take it.”

  “Even though he might not be as guilty as the DA thinks?”

  “Oh, he’s guilty. I just don’t know exactly how guilty.” Caitlin propped her elbow unabashedly on the table and let her chin drop in her hands. “I’m tired, Sally. I’m tired of defending these people. Sometimes I want to lock them all up.”

  Sally chuckled. “I know how you feel. But someone’s got to do it.”

  “Maybe it’s time I got out.”

  “What, and make it so the guys don’t have anything to rib me about down at the precinct?” Sally’s colleagues held no love for the Legal Defenders Association, and their mistrust of Sally’s friendship with Caitlin was nothing new. But Sally and Caitlin had been friends from the minute they’d met during a DUI case that had turned out to be caused by prescription medication rather than alcohol. It was one of the few good cases Caitlin could remember in the past three years.

  “Ah, here comes the food,” Sally added. “I ordered you a grilled nectarine and chicken salad. Dressing on the side. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Whatever you got is fine.” They were always in such a hurry at lunch that their standing rule was for the first to arrive to order for both. Only once had Caitlin been held up long enough to make Sally take the extra lunch home for her dinner. Never had she been forced to eat something she absolutely detested.

  “So how’s Amy?” Sally asked as the waitress set down her plate. She was having the Judge’s Favorite, a healthy serving of hearty meat loaf with mashed potatoes, gravy, summer squash, and mushrooms.

  “The same. She never really changes.”

  One side of Sally’s mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. “Some mothers would love their children to never grow up.”

  Caitlin considered the statement as she moved her chicken and nectarines around on their bed of romaine lettuce. She’d never held any hope of Amy growing up, except in disjointed dreams that didn’t make any sense. “Maybe they wouldn’t mind so much if they knew the alternative.”

  “Probably. Still, sometimes I’d give anything to have Randi younger again. Fifth grade is tough.”

  “Is she doing better at the new school?”

  “Yes. She’s finally found some friends.”

  “Good.” Unlike Randi, Amy had a lot of friends because she loved everyone and never took offense. Unfortunately, she could never play without supervision because she was often too rough on her younger playmates.

  As though reading her thoughts, Sally stopped eating and reached into the inner pocket of her suit coat, bringing out a folded paper. “There are much worse things in life.” She opened the paper to revea
l a photocopied picture of a little girl. The child stared up at them, her eyes bright, her round face grinning. Her hair was so blonde that it looked almost as white as the page, framing her face like a halo.

  “She went missing last night from her bedroom,” Sally said. “The mother has no idea when it might have happened. The girl was there at ten or so when she put the children to bed, and then when the little brother started crying in the morning about nine, the mother discovered she was missing. We’re working on an Amber Alert now.”

  “Poor thing.” Caitlin set down her fork and took the picture. The child was beautiful and so young. “Who could have taken her?”

  “So far we have no leads. We’re talking to the relatives now. The father was at work in Manti when we called, but the mother had already called him before she contacted us, so we didn’t have the element of surprise. I’m going down there after I leave here to see if I can find any leads.”

  “I take it he and the mother are divorced?”

  “About a year now.”

  “He’s a suspect?”

  “Everyone’s a suspect. A high percentage of children are taken by family members, but there are still far too many stranger abductions. It’d be a lot easier for us if the mother could pinpoint the time of disappearance a little better. Apparently she got up to use the bathroom in the night and walked right past the room, but she didn’t go in.”

  “I always check on Amy if I wake up.” Caitlin set down the picture, but the little girl’s trusting eyes still danced before her.

  “You’d think she’d have checked on them since her kids are so young, but the mother claims she’d taken a sleep aid and wasn’t thinking well.”