by Lea Wait
Maggie opened a large book of Currier & Ives reproductions to Prairie Fires of the Great West and held it up for the class to see. “In this 1871 print the horrors of this same wilderness are clear. Giant flames and clouds of smoke from the prairie fire fill the horizon, threatening both herds of buffalo and the train which transects the scene, symbolizing civilization. The train’s billowing smoke blends with the smoke of the fire. This wilderness is uncontrolled and uncontrollable.”
Uncontrollable. Was what had happened to Sarah uncontrollable? But how could we prevent what we didn’t anticipate? And if it could happen to Sarah, then could it happen to someone else? Maggie hoped fervently that Detectives Luciani and Newton had already found whoever had caused all this pain. Found that person and locked him or her up, far away from civilization.
She turned the book to still another page. “High Water in the Mississippi illustrates another natural danger of the wilderness. The Mississippi has flooded. The large home in the rear of the print is surrounded by water; in the foreground a group of black Americans try to escape the waters by gathering on the roof of a house. Again, as with the fire, the flood has destroyed what men have made; nature is man’s enemy, not his friend.
“And here is a final example.” Maggie balanced the large book on the desk in front of her. “This 1868 Currier and Ives, Across the Continent: Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way, takes its theme from a series of paintings Thomas Cole did in 1836 called The Course of Empire. Cole’s paintings depicted the rise and fall of European civilization: an American reaction to the problems escaped by emigrating.
“By the way, if you’d like to see paintings by Thomas Cole and other American artists of that period, the Montclair Art Museum has an excellent small collection that includes most of the major American artists of the nineteenth century.
“In the Currier and Ives version, ‘the course of empire’ westward is visualized as a positive, inevitable step in taming the savage wilderness. Instead of Cole’s depictions of the crumbling ruins of Europe, here the railroad cuts a dramatic line through the untouched prairie. But civilization has already taken a toll. On one side of the railroad tracks pioneers are resolutely cutting down trees, creating towns and schools, and ‘civilizing’ the land. On the other side, the Indians on horseback watch near the forests, separated from the white community by the railroad.
“In many ways this print most accurately reflects the way in which Eastern Americans viewed the journey westward in the mid and late nineteenth century.”
Maggie closed the large book.
As soon as the bell rang, she could see Aura and find out how Sarah was doing. If she was still alive.
Chapter 9
The Grand Display of Fireworks and Illuminations—At the Opening of the Great Suspension Bridge Between New York and Brooklyn on the Evening of May 24, 1883. Currier & Ives lithograph. Medium folio. 12 x 17.9 inches. Price: $900.
“Good morning, Maggie. Although how anyone can call a cloudy, cold day like this good I don’t know.” Claudia Hall had short, dark hair that varied in curliness depending on the weather. She had been the American Studies department secretary forever and was always ready to provide gossip, chocolates, and a depressing interpretation of life to anyone who came near. This year the department members to whom Claudia offered solicited or unsolicited advice included Maggie, Paul Turk, Linc James, who taught American ethnic studies, and Geoff Boyle, who specialized in American religion and intellectual history.
“Good morning, Claudia. Any messages so far?” Maggie took two chocolate Kisses from the red candy dish on Claudia’s desk. Other secretaries let telephone callers leave messages on voice mail. Claudia felt she could provide value-added by answering the calls herself.
“A pile of them. Isn’t it awful about Sarah Anderson?”
Clearly, the word was out.
“It’s very sad. I’m going to check on her later today.”
“Then you should return Dr. Stevens’s call first,” Claudia suggested, shuffling through Maggie’s pile of pink slips. “He said it was important. And Mrs. Whitcomb called you. The Whitcombs have to be really upset. I mean, Sarah collapsing at their house and everything! Mr. Whitcomb called Paul Turk this morning. And President Hagfield called and said you shouldn’t talk to any reporters. You should only answer direct questions from the police and not volunteer anything.” Claudia lowered her voice. “That was just before Evan Connors called from The Star-Ledger. President Hagfield must have known he was going to call. He must be awfully worried about Somerset College’s reputation. If the word about Sarah gets out—and it will!—then all our students could withdraw, and we could all be unemployed.” Claudia’s expression implied she had been waiting for just such an event. It was only a matter of time. “And Tiffany Douglass called. She wants to see you. She wouldn’t say about what. But I know her grades haven’t been so good recently.” Claudia looked as though now she had the world organized.
Maggie reached over the desk and took the pile of pink slips. “Thank you, Claudia.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, Maggie, I’ll be right here. Unless that murderer who tried to kill Sarah Anderson strikes again. I always thought Somerset County was a safe place to live, but this just shows you can’t trust anyone. I’ve decided to stay close to the office today. I won’t even go out for lunch. You never know who might be out there. We all need to be vigilant.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine.” Maggie opened the door to her office, which Claudia must have unlocked earlier, and a cat streaked out. “Claudia, would you make sure Uncle Sam stays out of my office? He’s taken too much of a liking to my snake plant.” Dirt from the three-foot-high plant was all over the floor around it, and Maggie sniffed the air. Something else had been added to the large flowerpot in place of the dirt. That was why she didn’t have indoor plants at home to tempt Winslow.
“I’ll watch him, Maggie.”
Uncle Sam was striped, and the biology department would probably have dubbed him Tiger, but the white star on his fore-head symbolized something else to the American Studies professors. Sam had been the unofficial departmental cat since he’d appeared in the office two years ago. Claudia was the assigned cat manager, and she took him home on weekends and vacations. They all chipped in for the cat food that was stacked next to the Poland Spring water dispenser. Claudia was also in charge of the litter box behind the copy machine. No wonder she kept letting him into Maggie’s office to visit the snake plant.
Maggie’s office was small and cluttered. Bookcases to the ceiling overflowed with books stacked horizontally as well as vertically, filling every bit of space between the shelves. The top of the file cabinet in the corner was covered with papers. She stood the Currier & Ives prints she’d used this morning next to the cabinet. Then she unlocked her desk, took her student record books from the lower right-hand file drawer, noted the attendance at this morning’s class, including the man who’d left a request for an excused absence on her home computer last night, and locked the record books up again. She must clean out her office. Maybe during Thanksgiving break. In the meantime she looked at the pink message slips, took a deep breath, and picked up the telephone.
Voice mail answered. “Dr. Stevens? This is Maggie Summer, returning your call. I’ll be in my office for about half an hour.” Maggie checked her watch. She wanted to stop at the day-care center to see Aura. “If you miss that window, then maybe I’ll see you at the hospital later this morning when I visit Sarah.”
One down. Voice mail was a blessing and a curse. What had Dr. Stevens wanted? She hoped Sarah wasn’t any worse.
Max Hagfield’s call was clear enough. Don’t talk to reporters. As though that would stop reporters from finding someone on campus to talk with. She had other things to do in any case. No call back to The Star-Ledger. How had a major New Jersey daily heard so quickly anyway? And Tiffany wanted to see her. About her grades? About Sarah? Tiffany had never expressed any interes
t in discussing her grades before, despite Maggie’s concern.
“Morning, Maggie. You look lovely today.” Paul Turk was dressed in what might have been termed corporate casual attire in his corporate world. The clothes worked; at about forty (and rumored to have been divorced twice) he still looked like a Gentlemen’s Quarterly ad as he leaned against Maggie’s doorway in pressed Ralph Lauren jeans and a tweed sport jacket over a pale blue shirt unbuttoned just one button too low for corporate decorum. Paul had the office next to Maggie’s and often stopped in with questions or comments. Usually she was happy to chat; this morning she had other issues on her mind.
“Just wanted to know how that girl—Sarah—was. Lovely young woman. Such a shock when she collapsed last night.”
Maggie nodded.
“You went to the hospital with her, didn’t you? I thought of following you, but then I saw Dorothy Whitcomb leave, too.”
“Dorothy and I both went to the hospital. The doctors pumped out Sarah’s stomach, but she went into a coma. She wasn’t allowed any visitors.” Maggie thought of Sarah, and of Aura. “I’m going to see her daughter this morning, and then go over to the hospital.”
“Would you like company? I don’t have a class until after lunch. I’d be glad to go with you.”
Why this sudden interest in Sarah? Maybe he was just trying to be helpful. “Thanks, Paul, but that’s not necessary. You didn’t know her, did you?”
“I’ve heard about her, of course; I’ve heard about all the Whitcomb House residents, from Dorothy and Oliver. But, no; I hadn’t seen her before last night. I just thought you might like someone with you. Visiting the ICU isn’t fun.”
“No. But I’d rather do it myself.” Paul had worked with Oliver Whitcomb in New York, but last night was the first time he’d talked even a little about his relationship with the Whitcombs. Usually he only talked about his current job, and about the plays he still attended regularly in New York. He must be closer to Dorothy and Oliver than she’d realized if he’d heard about individual Whitcomb House residents. And yet—hadn’t Claudia said Oliver Whitcomb had called Paul this morning? That must have been how Paul knew Sarah was in intensive care.
“Are you sure? I really wouldn’t mind going with you.”
Maggie shook her head.
In the past month Paul had asked her to join him for dinner twice, but she’d been busy both times. She’d assumed he was lonely; he’d just moved to the suburbs. Could he be having other thoughts about her? Maggie looked at him again. Paul wasn’t a bad-looking man, for sure. And he was intelligent and certainly knew how to dress. If it weren’t for Will…but she had no commitment to Will. They were friends. Close friends, perhaps, but just friends. In any case, with Sarah in the hospital this wasn’t the time to think of anything other than Sarah’s condition and prognosis. And about what to do for Aura.
“I’d really rather go to see Aura and Sarah alone,” Maggie said. Her telephone rang. “You’ll excuse me?”
Paul waved and left the doorway.
“Professor, this is Kayla Martin. The police have been here at Whitcomb House all morning. They said Sarah’s been poisoned! They had a search warrant; they went through Sarah’s room and really messed it up, and then they went through the rest of the house. Most people were in class, so they haven’t spoken with the police. But I have. And—could I see you? I need to talk with someone.”
She should have warned the students, Maggie thought. Police arriving first thing in the morning must have been frightening. She was older, with no small children around, and she hadn’t been too thrilled when they’d showed up at her house. “I’m going to see Aura at Wee Care and then I’ll stop,” she said. “Will you be there in”—Maggie checked her watch—“about half an hour? Maybe a little longer. And is Tiffany there?”
“Tiffany left. I assume she’s on campus. She took her books and that fancy leather briefcase she always carries. But I’ll be here.”
“I’ll come as soon as I can, Kayla.”
Maggie stopped at Claudia’s desk on her way out. “If Tiffany Douglass calls again, see if she can stop by my office about four this afternoon. I checked for her at Whitcomb House but she’d already left for the day.”
Claudia nodded. “Those poor kids. You just never know what will happen next, do you?” She carefully folded the wrappers from the two chocolate Kisses she had just put in her mouth and dropped them squarely in her wastebasket. “A person could die just from the fright of it all.”
Chapter 10
Hawk Owl (found in northern Europe and North America). Hand-colored engraving from the Reverend F. O. Morris’s Natural History of British Birds, one of the most successful and most often reprinted of all illustrated bird books. It was issued in sections, monthly, from 1851 until 1857. 4.5 x 7.25 inches. Price: $60.
The Somerset College Wee Care Center, a day-care center for the children of students and members of the college staff, was a small, bright green building near the gym. Its grassy playground, now browned by November cold, was surrounded by a high fence, giving it the appearance of a secure army base, with swings and slides added for attempted camouflage. Inside the rooms were warm and bright, the walls painted in primary colors and covered by children’s crayoned drawings.
Maggie gave her name at the reception desk just inside the front door. Her college identification card got her inside, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to let her take Aura home. Each parent had on file a limited list of people who could, after showing their identification and signing, take their children out of the building. The parents at Whitcomb House had made arrangements so that any of them could drop off or pick up any of their children. Other than that, pickups were limited to biological parents and perhaps one trusted neighbor or older sibling. Too many national newspaper reports of kidnapped or missing children had resulted in security here being far tighter than anywhere else on campus. Too bad security hadn’t been as heavy as this at the Whitcombs’ house last night.
“Professor Summer? Welcome. Aura is in the Bunny Room, on the left, but most of the children there are taking naps now. Let me check with one of the aides.”
Maggie nodded, looking at the rows of brightly painted lockers that lined the hallway, their owners’ names pasted in large block letters on colored poster board. Aura’s locker was red, with her name in yellow. A small, pink fleece jacket hung inside it.
The receptionist was back in a few minutes, holding Aura by the hand. Kayla and Tiffany had done their job well. Aura was dressed neatly in denim overalls with a long-sleeved, orange T-shirt. Her curly hair was mussed, as though she’d been rolling on it.
“Look who wasn’t sleeping after all! Aura, do you remember Professor Summer?”
Aura nodded. “Hi.”
“Hi, Aura.” Maggie knelt down so that she and Aura were on the same level. Aura smelled of baby shampoo and breakfast cereal. Maggie resisted the impulse to smooth her unruly curls. Aura was a beautiful child. And one with a bigger problem than any four-year-old could imagine.
“Did you come to take me to Mommy? Kayla said Mommy was sick.”
“Yes. She is sick, Aura. But the doctors are taking care of her. I can’t take you to see her right now. I promise to tell her that I saw you and that you have a beautiful smile.”
Aura smiled a little back. “When can I see Mommy? When can Mommy come home?”
“Soon, I hope, Aura. Very soon. But Kayla and Tiffany and the other people at your house will be with you after school.”
A tear straggled down Aura’s face. “I don’t want them. I want Mommy.”
Maggie reached out, and Aura stepped into her arms. “I know, Aura. I know. And Mommy wants to come home to you, too. But she has to get better first. It’s going to take time.”
The girl’s arms around her neck felt warm and trusting. Maggie wanted to hold her forever, to keep anything else from hurting her.
Aura stepped back. “Mommy misses me, I think. She always misses me when she’s a
way, even when the away is just a little.”
“I’m sure she does. But you have to be big and brave for her and know she loves you, even if she isn’t here to tell you herself.” Maggie felt her eyes filling. It wouldn’t help for Aura to see her crying. She stood up.
“That’s what Kayla said. That I should be brave.”
“Kayla was right. Now, you go and take your nap with the other boys and girls, and I’ll do everything I can to bring your mommy home.” If only she could. How could anyone have done something to separate this little girl and her mother who had only each other? Maggie’s anger almost took over her voice. “I promise.”
“I’m going to lie down, then. Mommy’s lying down, too, isn’t she? Because she’s sick.”
“Yes. She’s resting so she’ll get better.” I hope, Maggie added to herself. How could you let a child know her mother might not come home? But it was still way too early to think about that. Sarah might be fine. Please, please be fine, Sarah.
The aide took Aura’s hand. “After your nap maybe you’d like to draw a picture for your mommy, Aura. A picture of how happy you’ll be when she’s home again.”
“Yes!” The smile was back.
“Good-bye, Aura.” Maggie stood and watched as the heavy door closed on the classroom. There was nothing she could do medically to help Sarah recover. But she could try to find out why someone had been targeting her. Maggie had a sudden chill. Whatever reason that person had, she hoped it didn’t extend to Aura.
Kayla and Sarah had been friends; maybe she knew something that would help.
In the meantime, Aura was as safe here at the Wee Care Center as she would be anywhere.