The Baby Snatchers

by Chris Taylor

  “Are Sasha, Clare and Montana involved, too?”

  “No. To date we haven’t had any need of their services, and of course, none of them followed us into the nursing field. But who knows what the future may bring? I’m sure when the time’s right, we’ll fill them in on our good deeds.”

  Georgie opened her mouth to utter another round of protest at the way her mother described their horrific and illegal undertakings, but then closed it again. It was obvious Marjorie was under some sick delusion that she was acting in the best interests of all concerned, and particularly, the babies. In her mind, she seemed to be saving the newborns from a fate far worse than death.

  Georgie couldn’t deny the life of a child born to a drug addict wouldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t up to individuals to make the decision to have the children removed. There were government agencies with specially trained people to assess each situation and deal with them in an open and honest manner. Georgie refused to acknowledge the little voice in her head that reminded her how, too often, the government resources were stretched to their limits and some families simply fell through the cracks.

  On some weird level, she could understand why her mother and aunt had set out on this path, but it didn’t make it right. Not one little bit. Curious as to how they’d started out, she glanced at her mother through the rearview mirror again.

  “What made you decide you needed to involve yourself in stealing other peoples’ babies?”

  Her mother scowled. “We’re not stealing them. We’re giving them a better life!”

  Georgie shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, it’s stealing, but that’s beside the point. You’ve been doing this for nearly forty years. Drugs and alcohol weren’t even a problem back then. Not like it is now. Why were you stealing babies four decades ago?”

  Rosemary let out a long drawn-out sigh, but the hand holding the gun didn’t waver. “Oh, honey, we mightn’t have had the level of drug abuse to deal with, but society back then had its own set of problems.”

  “Like what?” Georgie asked, hoping to distract the women from their apparent deadly goal upon their arrival at the Leura cottage.

  Her mother continued. “The sixties and seventies were times of uninhibited, amoral behavior. There were plenty of girls willing to sleep with any man who happened to show them attention. Babies born out of wedlock to teenage moms were a common occurrence.

  “Both Rosemary and I did our training under Sister Mary Margaret Hennessy, a nun from the local convent and matron of the hospital. Back in those days, many hospitals were run by religious orders. Ours was no different. It was Matron who first approached Rosemary about relocating children born of these mothers to more deserving and satisfactory homes.”

  Georgie shook her head, still unable to believe their mindset. “But, why? Just because a girl’s fifteen and without a husband or partner doesn’t mean she’s an unfit mom. I’m sure I would have made a great mom, if I’d been given the chance.

  “Many of the young women I’ve met over the past two years see the birth of their babies as a reason to try harder to make something of their lives. They don’t want their babies to grow up living the kind of lives they have.

  “By stealing their children, you’ve taken away that tiny spark of desire that ignited inside them the moment they set eyes upon their newborns to better themselves. Apart from the illegality of it, the tragedy of what you’ve done is so montrous I can barely get my head around it.”

  Her mother scoffed. “You’ve lived a blessed life, Georgina. You’ve wanted for nothing. The best clothes, schools, friends… The list goes on. Perhaps you might have done a reasonable job of raising your son, but you had a family who were in a position to support you and your baby and help you every step of the way.”

  Georgie’s heart pounded. She stared at her mother through the mirror. Never once over the years, had her mother indicated that she’d been prepared to help Georgie raise her child. In fact, every conversation they’d had about it, then and since, indicated the exact opposite.

  “You’re lying! You had no intention of helping me with my baby. You told me over and over again. There’d be no help from my family. It was made very clear. And Dad felt the same. You told me the other day he was going to cut me off.”

  “Oh, Georgina! You’re such a drama queen!” Her mother chuckled, infuriating Georgie further.

  “Don’t you dare dismiss me, Mom! I’m no longer a frightened teenager who can be bullied into doing what you want. I want to hear the truth!”

  “You can’t handle the truth!” Marjorie shouted.

  “Ladies, please. Perhaps it might be better to leave this…this family disagreement to some other time,” Rosemary interrupted. “Georgie, your mother is right. Your situation was very different than our patients. Most of them are barely able to take care of themselves, let alone a baby. And I’m referencing the ones who actually want to try and improve their lot.

  “You can’t tell me you haven’t wondered what happens to the hundreds of wretched young souls who leave the safety of our hospital ward in the company of their drug-addicted mothers—mothers who have neither the inclination nor willpower to change their desperate and dubious lifestyles.”

  Georgie kept her attention on the road. She wasn’t prepared to let either woman know that she often despaired over the babies who were born to moms just like the ones Rosemary described. It didn’t matter. Nothing justified their actions and nothing either of them said would change her mind.

  “Why didn’t you just approach each mom you thought fell into that category and talk about adoption?” she asked. “It’s what thousands of single moms did back when you were young. It wasn’t necessary to steal them, then or now! And to compound the tragedy by telling those poor moms their babies had died…” She shook her head and bit back a sob. “It’s wrong! It’s so wrong!”

  Her aunt merely shrugged and another glance in the mirror showed Georgie her mother was equally unaffected by her daughter’s despair. It was obvious she’d never make them see.

  “Pull in over there,” Rosemary snapped. “I don’t want your car visible from the road.”

  Through the darkness, Georgie made out the dark hulk of her childhood home. The cottage was now used infrequently by her family, but it had always been kept in good repair. A man came twice a week to mow the lawns and keep the gardens under control. The last time Georgie had been there was for Christmas, nearly six months ago.

  Thinking about that time when all her family had come together as one, to share the holidays and celebrate, she was filled with a deep sadness. Life would never be like that again—even if she managed to survive the next few moments and whatever else her mother and aunt had in store. As if she could sense her thoughts, Rosemary waved the gun in Georgie’s direction.

  “Get out of the car and keep your hands where I can see them.”

  Georgie did as she was told. The crazy gleam had returned to her aunt’s eyes. It was almost as if she relished the idea of having her niece at her mercy. The thought sent a cold shiver down Georgie’s spine. She glanced at her mother, hoping to find some sign that she wasn’t supportive of Rosemary’s dangerous plans—whatever they might be—but Marjorie didn’t appear in the least concerned.

  A little desperately, Georgie’s thoughts turned to Cam and she wondered if he’d given any thought to her contradictory text messages. The possibility that he hadn’t, caused panic to flare inside her.

  What if he’d simply taken Rosemary’s text for what it was and accepted that she’d gone to the movies? Even now, he could be asleep, blissfully unaware of her jeopardy. Her blood ran cold and her chest went tight. She swallowed a sob of desperation and tried not to think about it.

  Despite the earlier threats, she was certain her aunt didn’t plan to actually kill her. She’d known the woman her entire life. Her aunt had helped celebrate Georgie’s every milestone. They were as close as an aunt and her niece could be. There was no way she would kill her, n
o matter what she said. And especially not in the presence of her mother.

  For all the recent shocks Georgie had borne with respect to her mom, it still didn’t change the fact they loved and cared for each other. Even the adoption had been forced upon Georgie because her mother cared. She cared about her future; she cared about her choices. She’d known better than Georgie that a baby would change everything.

  Looking back, Georgie wished she’d been stronger, braver and had fought harder to keep her son, but she didn’t blame her mother for forcing her to sign.

  The feel of cold steel pressing against her back elicited a gasp and brought her attention crashing back to the present. Her aunt still held the wicked-looking weapon and was prodding her with the barrel of the gun in the direction of the paved walkway that led up to the front door. The carefully tended gardens that framed the path were dark shadows against the blackness of the night. Guided by memory and the faint light from the tiniest sliver of moon, Georgie stumbled forward.

  The sudden onset of headlights from a vehicle turning into their drive lit up the path. Hope flared bright in Georgie’s chest and she spun on her heel. Cam! A moment later, she recognized her father’s silver Mercedes S Class Saloon. He drove past them and came to a halt outside the garage attached to the side of the house.

  It wasn’t Cameron, but she was just as relieved to see her dad. He could talk sense into the women and deal with the psychotic episode Rosemary appeared to be having, and perhaps her mother, too. It was the only thing that made sense. When they got back to the city, she’d insist both of them undergo comprehensive psych assessments.

  “Keep moving,” Rosemary growled and once again, Georgie felt the hard barrel of the gun in her back.

  A car door slammed and she risked a glance in her father’s direction. He headed toward them with a purposeful stride. A moment later, the place was flooded with light and Georgie guessed he must have triggered the sensors. He continued toward her with his arms outstretched and she couldn’t hold back a loud gasp of relief.

  “Daddy! Thank God you’re here! Aunt Rosemary’s gone crazy and Mom’s just plain scaring me! Careful, Aunt Rosemary’s got a gun! I don’t know what she’s doing, but you need to talk to her.”

  In the middle of her monologue, she threw herself against him and held on tight. His arms wrapped around her. He held her briefly and then pressed a kiss against her hair and let her go. Georgie stared at him, confused. He averted his gaze.

  “Dad?” she whispered. Her body flooded with uncertainty and dread, followed quickly by an overwhelming sense of panic.

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Georgie,” he murmured and then frowned at his wife and sister-in-law. “Surely, there was no need for the gun?”

  “Dad?” Georgie rasped again, filled with disbelief.

  “I told you your father was part of this!” her mother crowed “Who do you think certified all the death certificates and obtained registrations of the births?”

  Rosemary chuckled and then added, “I used to falsify them in the old days, under Matron’s guidance, but this way’s so much less risky… for everyone.”

  Georgie looked from her aunt to her parents and was filled with a fresh wave of fear and horror. Tears poured down her cheeks. “Daddy! Nooo! Not you, too! How could you!” The sobs came in earnest now and at first she didn’t notice when her aunt raised the gun, her arms outstretched.

  “Rosemary!” her father snapped. “What the hell are you doing? Put that gun away before somebody gets hurt.” He stepped forward and reached for the weapon.

  * * *

  Cam checked the satellite navigation screen mounted on the console of his car and made a sharp right. According to the GPS, the property owned by Georgie’s mother lay directly up ahead. Slowing, he pulled over to the side and killed the engine and lights. A faint glimmer of illumination could be seen through the thick covering of bushes and trees.

  Cam reached for the service revolver he’d left on the front seat and was grateful he’d taken the time to go via the station and sign it out. Though Rohan had expressed his reservations, Cam assured him it was purely a precautionary measure. He still had no idea what was going on with Georgie, but he believed in being prepared.

  He’d left several other messages on her phone since the time she’d sent the last text, but he’d heard nothing. His last call had gone straight to her mailbox. He could only assume her phone had been switched off, but knowing she wasn’t at the movies, he couldn’t help but wonder why. His sense of foreboding grew.

  Choosing his steps with care in the darkness, Cam picked his way toward the house. The evening was still and quiet. He shivered in the cold night air. Winter always came earlier in the mountains. Sometimes, they even saw snow—

  The sound of a woman’s cry broke the stillness and Cam’s blood ran to ice.

  Georgie!

  His heart skipped a beat and then began to pound. He didn’t know for sure it was her, but he wasn’t hanging around waiting to find out. Sprinting now, he bolted in the direction of the noise and broke out of the trees. He found himself in a cleared area. Lights shone from the house directly ahead. He recognized Marjorie Whitely, even from the back. Frederick Rolleston was also there, next to Georgie. A short distance away Rosemary Lawson faced the three of them, holding a gun.

  Cam’s heart went into overdrive. Quickly, he dialed the station and was relieved when Rohan answered. As quietly, and with as few words as he could manage, Cam explained the situation and ordered the local cavalry.

  Ducking low beside a thick hedge, he eased the safety off his gun. Raising himself just high enough so that he could see the people in front of him, he listened in disbelief.

  “What the hell are you doing, Fred? Georgie needs to die. She knows too much.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” the doctor snapped. “I don’t care what she knows. We’re not murderers. We can get her to see reason. Now, give me the gun.”

  Rosemary cackled and moved out of reach. “I don’t think so, Fred. I started this and I’m going to finish it.”

  Frederick stepped in front of his daughter. “You’ll have to shoot me first.”

  “Fred!” Marjorie gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m saving our daughter from your crazy sister. What are you doing?”

  Marjorie looked from one to the other, appearing more and more confused. “Fred’s right, Rosemary. Put the gun down. Murder was never part of our plan. We help people. We don’t kill them.”

  “Your daughter’s ruined everything!” Rosemary shouted, waving the gun around. “She must be removed. I can’t take the risk that she’ll blab to the police and spoil it for all of us. She’s even dating a detective. Did you know that, Fred?”

  Fred frowned and turned slightly to look at Georgie. “Is that true? You’re seeing someone?”

  Cam strained to hear Georgie’s answer and felt a surge of relief when she responded in the affirmative.

  “And you never told me?” her father exclaimed.

  Georgie’s reply was masked by her aunt’s snort of impatience. “Who cares about her boyfriend? She’s never going to see him again.”

  Cam heard the distinct click of the gun’s safety being removed—and froze. Fuck! The thought reverberated around his head at the same instant his reflexes kicked in. With his mind spinning furiously, he tried to put together a plan of attack.

  Over and over, he cursed under his breath, wondering how far away the local police were. He was armed, but with the group of people standing so close together, he might not be able to get off a clear shot and he’d never risk Georgie getting hurt. He had to think of some way to distract them, or at least, get her out of the path of a stray bullet.

  Careful to maintain his cover, Cam crept forward. A stick snapped under his boot and his heart leaped into his throat. Easing himself up high enough to see over the hedge, he noticed all four people now stared in his direction.

  With his heart thumping hard eno
ugh to burst, Cam plotted his next move. As he watched, Rosemary advanced on the others.

  “Unless you want to take the first bullet, you’ll get out of my way, Fred.”

  Georgie’s father didn’t move. Rosemary came even closer.

  “Fred!” Marjorie squeaked. “I think she’s serious!”

  “I have no intention of going to jail, Fred. If we let her live, that’s where we’ll all end up.”

  Frederick’s shoulders slumped and Cam’s breath caught in his throat. He waited for the man’s response.

  “Then so be it, Rosemary. I refuse to allow you to murder my daughter. She had nothing to do with this. Let the police arrest us! Let us be judged by our peers. You might be surprised how many of them will sympathize with our cause. They might even admire us for our courage.”

  Marjorie turned to her husband, her face filled with hope. “Really?”

  Frederick shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t listen to him! Rosemary shouted. “He’s spinning you fairytales, dear sister. Now, step aside, or I swear I’ll shoot you all!”

  She rushed forward with her arms outstretched, the gun pointed toward the doctor. Right behind him was Georgie. With Cam’s choices dissolving before his eyes, he stood and revealed himself.

  “Drop the gun!” he shouted and almost simultaneously spied a puff of smoke coming from the end of Rosemary’s pistol. A millisecond later, he heard the roar. At the same time, he squeezed the trigger and watched both Georgie and her aunt fall to the ground. His gaze shot to Georgie and his heart stood still.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Georgie came awake slowly and then gasped at the sharp pain in her side. Muted light shone through the half-closed blinds. She moved slightly and a piercing headache stabbed at the back of her eyes. Cam materialized beside her, soothing her with quiet murmurings and a tender smile.