by Chris Taylor
Cam stared at her without flinching. “Yes.”
With a horrified gasp, Georgie snatched up her handbag and turned blindly into the crowd. Ignoring Cameron’s shout, she plowed through the press of bodies. She pushed past a man holding a tray of drinks and gritted her teeth when he lost his balance and the drinks spilled everywhere.
He cursed and frowned at her, but she didn’t pause and couldn’t even summon the wherewithal to offer an apology. All she could think of was getting out of there and finding her mom and dad. They would reassure her of Cameron’s ridiculousness. They would calm her fears.
They’d always been able to do that, from the time she was a little girl. Apart from her teenage pregnancy, she couldn’t remember the number of times she’d gone to one or the other of them and received comfort and understanding when life threw an unexpected obstacle in her way. This was no different.
The seriousness of Cameron’s allegations was completely off the scale and despite his claim that he had proof, she was sure her parents could explain that away and her world would once again right on its axis. Until then, she couldn’t be around Cameron another second. No matter how much her heart rebelled against it, there could be nothing between them until this nonsense was sorted out.
Bursting through the double entry doors that led outside to the street, she pushed blindly through the crowd. Panting hard, she gulped in air and filled her lungs in an effort to slow down her racing heart. People passed by her on the pavement, but she remained oblivious to their curious stares. In a daze, she started walking, barely aware of where she was going. She flagged down a taxi and at the last minute, remembered she’d driven into the city from work.
Lowering her arm, she turned away and hurried in the direction of the parking station, clinging to the fact that soon she’d have the truth from her parents. Then she prayed she could set about repairing the damage her secret baby had done to her relationship with Cameron. He’d been furious that she’d kept it from him. She only hoped he’d come to understand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cam stared into the darkness from where he stood out on his balcony and cursed aloud. He’d left the bar straight after Georgie and the image of her devastated face kept coming back to haunt him. She’d endured one shock after the other, not the least his discovery of her secret.
The knowledge that she’d kept it from him still angered him—after all they’d shared. She knew how he felt about adoption and yet, she hadn’t said a word.
A shaft of guilt pricked his conscience and he winced. He wondered just when she would have found the courage and opportunity to bring it to his attention. He’d made it clear how he felt about his birth mother. His attitude hadn’t exactly invited confidences of that nature.
What could she have said? Oh, it’s sad to hear how much you hate your birth mother, but guess what? I gave my baby up for adoption, too.
He remembered how she’d tried to offer up various scenarios that might have explained his birth mother’s actions and how he’d shot every one of them down. He hadn’t wanted to listen to any reasoning. He’d despised the woman for too long. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder about Georgie’s reasons.
She’d never struck him as heartless and self-centered. In fact, just the opposite. The kindness and compassion she’d shown Cynthia was only one example. His sister had ceased to be Georgie’s responsibility from the moment Cynthia had been discharged and yet, Georgie had come to his aid when he’d called for help and was instrumental in his sister’s ongoing emotional recovery.
And yet, she’d given her baby away… All of a sudden he wanted to know why.
If he’d held any doubt whether or not she was aware of the evil wrongdoings at the hospital, they’d dissolved the moment he’d voiced his suspicions. Her reaction was one of shock and sheer horror. Nobody was that good an actor. It was clear she was oblivious to what her family had been up to.
He frowned at the memory of his outburst. He’d spoken without thinking. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. Though he was fairly sure she wouldn’t tip off his suspects, he couldn’t be certain. A couple of days earlier, he would have answered with a resounding yes, but his recent discoveries proved he didn’t know her as well as he thought. The knowledge worried him.
The problem was, he still didn’t have any tangible proof that the babies had been stolen. He hadn’t yet found any adoption records that pointed to the babies involved in his investigation. But it was early days. There were hundreds of records.
There was also the possibility of exhuming the bodies of those babies who hadn’t been cremated. It would only take one to know the truth. He was sure it was only a matter of time before he’d uncover enough evidence to make an arrest.
His thoughts returned to Georgie and the way she’d rushed from the bar, so pale and distraught. He worried for her safety, but it would also be wise to remind her that aiding and abetting criminals was an offense. Warning her not to speak with her family about the ongoing investigation wouldn’t do anything to repair the damage between them, but it had to be done. It was his stupid ass on the line. He couldn’t take the risk. Tugging out his phone, he sent her a text.
R u OK? Don’t talk 2 anyone. Call me. Please.
He waited for a few minutes and then cursed again. His phone remained frustratingly silent. Striding to the low table that stood between the matching deck chairs where he and Georgie had sat and flirted a lifetime ago, he picked up the half empty bottle of beer he’d left there and swallowed the rest of its contents. The beer tasted yeasty and was cold on the back of his throat—but it wasn’t alcohol he wanted.
He wanted Georgie. He wanted her to answer her phone; to call him or text him and tell him she was fine. He wanted to go back to when they were two young single people attracted to each other and not frightened to admit it. He wanted life to be simple and not have the prospect of a personal, complicated investigation getting in the way of what could possibly be the real thing.
He wished he could talk to the woman who’d quietly stolen his heart. He wanted to reassure himself she’d arrived home safely and he wanted to apologize. He was ready to hear her explanation, if she’d give him one.
He checked his phone again to make sure he hadn’t mistakenly switched it to silent mode, but the device remained stubbornly quiet. He composed another text.
I understand ur upset, but please just let me know ur OK. Call me.
He sent the text and hoped this time she’d respond. At least then he’d be able to go to bed and try and get some sleep before working out a battle plan for the morning. It wasn’t late, but he was beat. It had been a difficult few days and the next few promised to be even worse.
* * *
Georgie heard her phone beep for the second time, but paid it no heed. She swung her Mazda into the driveway of the palatial Darling Point home where her parents now lived alone. She climbed out and locked the door behind her, all the while swiping angrily at the stupid tears that continued to scorch a path of devastation down her cheeks. She’d been crying since she’d run out of the bar, leaving Cameron to stare after her.
She’d sat across from him and listened to his words, but it had taken some time for her to accept the awful truth. Now, as she looked back over her time on Ward Seven, she wondered why she hadn’t suspected or even noticed.
She’d been told about the deaths of the three babies she’d helped deliver and it hadn’t occurred to her to ask if there had been others. Would her mother have told her the truth? She didn’t know. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could manage and fought off the shaft of pain that forced its way into her heart.
According to Cam, twelve other babies had “died” over the course of the past year and her mother and aunt were likely responsible. She didn’t want to believe either woman capable of such evil, but Cam’s explanation made an awful kind of sense. It also explained her mother’s strident and judgemental attitude toward the patients in their care.
&n
bsp; The fact that Georgie had been oblivious to the possibility of their evil deeds was unforgivable. She should have asked more questions, demanded to see the bodies. Instead, she’d blindly accepted her mother’s explanation.
Another shaft of pain nearly bent her over and she gasped from the agony of it. She thought of the other nurses on the ward and could only assume they were just as clueless as she had been.
Cameron had put it all together. She didn’t know how, but he’d said he had the proof. He had no reason to lie to her. She had to accept that what he’d told her was the truth. All except the part about her father’s involvement.
Even with her mother’s recent revelations about his insistence that she give her baby up for adoption, she refused to believe he had any culpability for the evil that had occurred on Ward Seven. He might have signed the death certificates, but it didn’t mean he knew what his wife and sister-in-law were up to.
Finally, reaching the heavy double front doors that led into her parents’ home, Georgie drew in a ragged breath and keyed in the security code. She heard the corresponding click. Putting her shoulder to the wooden panel, she pushed open the doors and stepped inside the marbled foyer.
Twenty-foot ceilings and wide open spaces greeted her. Custom-made hall tables and silk-embroidered chaises lined both sides of the entryway. Walls covered in priceless artworks that normally gave her pause left no impact this time. She headed straight for her father’s den, calling out to him as she went.
“Dad! Where are you? It’s Georgie. Dad! I need to talk to you!”
She rounded the corner and slid open the pair of carved wooden doors that closed off the room where her father spent most of his leisure time. Her heart pounded against her ribs. The room had been furnished with dark, masculine pieces that reminded Georgie of a gentleman’s smoking room from centuries ago. In desperation, she looked around for him.
Several leather armchairs stood across from the occasional two-seater and were positioned to encourage conversation. Crowded floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall. An ornate sandstone fireplace took up most of another. An enormous window framed the magnificent city view and added to the opulence of the room. Amidst all of the luxury, Georgie spied her mother standing by the window. She came to a sudden halt.
Marjorie stood with her back to her, nursing a glass of scotch. She turned slowly and Georgie gasped. The look on her mother’s face was terrifying.
“Whatever are you carrying on about Georgina? You’ll disturb the entire neighborhood.”
Her mother’s tone was so mild and soft, Georgie was taken aback. It was so at odds with the coldness in her eyes, she couldn’t help but shiver. A frisson of fear slid down her spine, but she told herself not to be silly. This was her mother, a woman she loved and who loved her in return.
“I-I was looking for Dad,” she stammered.
“Your father isn’t here. He’s been called into the hospital. Apparently, some undeserving, drug-addicted wretch requires his services during a long and difficult delivery.”
The rancor in Marjorie’s voice and the bitterness in her eyes shocked Georgie to the core. How had it taken her so long to become aware of how much her mother despised the patients they worked with? Like the news of stolen babies, it seemed inconceivable that she’d spent two years on Ward Seven and until recently, had never noticed. If she hadn’t caught a glimpse of this other side to her mother the last time they’d been together, she’d never have believed Cameron’s accusations.
Now, in the privacy of her home, Marjorie appeared to have dropped all pretenses of caring one iota for the desperate women in their care and in that moment it was obvious to Georgie: The woman she had admired and respected and loved could very well be guilty of the crime. The knowledge horrified her and her hand flew up to her mouth to hold in a distraught gasp.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” she cried, coming toward her mother.
Marjorie just stared at her with pity in her eyes. “Poor Georgina. Always the last to know. We had such high hopes for you, but alas, you’ve let us down.”
Tears streamed down Georgie’s cheeks as she listened to her mother’s words. Marjorie hadn’t even tried to deny it. “Those babies didn’t die, did they? You were all in on it. You, or Aunt Rosemary would break the sad news to the distraught mothers and then spirit the babies away. You set up an adoption agency to make things easier and got rid of the infants that way. I assume you paid Uncle Bernard handsomely to go along with it and to pretend he’d taken possession of the bodies.”
Her mother nodded. “Of course. How else do you think we got him to agree? That lazy, no-good undertaker didn’t have a penny to his name until we came along. Your aunt purposefully sought him out. She knew he’d be good for business.”
Georgie gasped. “How long has this been going on?”
“I think we facilitated our first adoption toward the end of nineteen seventy-three. Rosemary and I were young nurses. Rosemary was approached by Matron. It was all Matron’s idea. Rosemary was initially taken aback, but once Matron explained her reasons, my sister was fully supportive. It didn’t take her long to convince me it was the right thing to do. I’m curious though, how did you know about the agency?”
“Cameron Dawson told me.”
“Ah, the detective. Cynthia’s brother. You made mention of the existence of a brother the day she delivered, but if I’d known he was a police officer, we would have let her baby be.”
Anger ignited in Georgie. “So, you took Josephine, too. Just like Cam thought. I… I just don’t believe it!” She rounded on her mother, her fury finding its feet. “How could you? How could you steal their babies?”
Marjorie’s laughter rang out in the room and her expression turned ugly. “Those women are a blight on our society! Single, without means of support and often teenagers, destroying their lives with alcohol and drugs. They don’t deserve to be mothers! A child is a precious gift from God! It deserves only the best love and attention. How can those women give a child what it needs? Surely you must agree!”
“I don’t, but even if I did, it doesn’t give you the right to steal their babies and give them to someone else!” Georgie shouted, fresh tears streaming down her face. “I assume that’s what you’re doing.”
Her mother’s lips twisted up in a sick imitation of a grin. “Well, you’re almost right; all except the giving away part. There’s nothing free about adoption. There are people who’ll pay a fortune for a baby of their own, even one going through a heroin withdrawal.”
With a wave of her arm around the room, she continued. “How do you think we got this place? Not to mention the top private school, ballet lessons, sax, flute, clarinet and piano lessons, overseas holidays, 5-star restaurants and hotels. You and your siblings have wanted for nothing and there’s plenty more where that came from. You’ll get your fair share, don’t worry.”
Georgie stood there, too horrified to speak. She’d always assumed her parents’ wealth came from legitimate means. To discover she’d been raised with money from the sale of stolen babies… It was too much.
Bile rose up from Georgie’s stomach and she thought she was going to be sick. She stumbled around the room before collapsing on one of the leather couches. Tugging out her phone, she spied Cameron’s messages and frantically sent him a text. She couldn’t stay there another minute, but she was in no fit state to drive. The way she felt, she could cause an accident and that was the last thing on earth she needed.
Her mother came toward her, the scotch glass no longer in her hand. Her narrowed gaze was fixed on Georgie’s phone. In a flash, Marjorie snatched the phone right out of Georgie’s hand and scrolled through her messages. When she turned back to stare at her daughter, her eyes were like shards of black ice.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Georgina. I wanted to keep this between us.”
“You’re insane! Cam already knows! How do you think—?”
“Ha! That young detective knows nothing! You don�
��t think we’ve done this for more than forty years without learning to cover our tracks. He’ll dig around and ask his questions, but in the end, he’ll come up with squat! Certainly not enough to press charges. The four of us are much cleverer than that.”
Blithely, she typed in something on Georgie’s phone. A moment later, the swish of a text message being sent could be heard in the silence. She tossed the phone back to her daughter.
Georgie stared at her mother, dazed and confused by her shocking revelations. “The four of you? You mean, Daddy? No! I won’t believe he’s part of this!”
Her mother laughed without humor. “Believe what you want, Georgina. It means nothing to me.”
Georgie’s anger stirred at the contempt in her mother’s voice. Her head still spun with confusion. She stared at her mother, trying to understand. “You and Rosemary were both young nurses forty years ago. You couldn’t have left school very far behind you. How? Why? I… I don’t understand.”
“And you don’t need to. Let’s just say, the history lesson’s over. It’s time we made a move before that boyfriend gets concerned.”
Georgie’s eyes widened in surprise and Marjorie snorted. “Oh, yes, I read the messages about getting together for dinner and the rest. I’m not stupid.”
“On your feet,” another voice ordered.
In some distant part of her frantic mind, Georgie recognized her aunt’s voice. Swiveling on the couch, she spied Rosemary who held a wicked-looking handgun. It was pointed straight at Georgie.
Georgie stared at it in shock and terror. “What…?”
“We’re going for a little ride, you and your mother and I. Up to the cottage in the mountains. I’m sure you remember it. Such a pretty spot. Now, get up.”
Prodding her with the barrel of the gun, Rosemary forced Georgie to her feet. Georgie’s heart thumped so hard, she could barely breathe. Panic clutched at her belly and fear tangled her feet. Tears poured down her cheeks. In desperation, she turned to her mother.