She could see from the look in his eyes that he did not understand.
Chapter Four
Charles Henson opened the front door and frowned at the rain.
Maddy peered past him out at the long cobbled drive, now shiny under the gaslit lamps that lined the long driveway and shivered.
“That wind moaning makes it sound like someone is out there,” she said. “Doesn’t it?”
“It’s turned nasty,” Charles said. “Do you need some umbrellas? We have extras.”
Doug looked out over his wife’s shoulder. “No, we don’t have far car to go,” he said. “Just to the car.”
Wind lashed the chilly rain against their backs as they said their hasty good-nights on the Hensons’ doorstep.
“Wait,” Ellen cried as they prepared to make a dash for the the car. She ran to hall closet and pulled out a slicker.
“What is it, dear?” Charles Henson asked in an apprehensive tone as his wife darted past him into the terrible night. “Where’s she going?”
“I don’t know,” said Maddy. “Honey, will you carry Amy?”
“Sure,” said Doug, crouching down and scooping up his daughter and her stuffed monkey. Amy laid her head against his shoulder with a little whimper.
“She’s tired,” Maddy said with a smile. She was killing time, knowing they were all waiting for Ellen to return. “Well, it was a lovely evening,” she said, not for the first time.
“We’re glad you could come,” Charles said politely, peering into the darkness.
“Here I am,” Ellen cried, materializing like a yellow vinyl apparition out of the darkness. She was carrying a covered wicker basket. She lifted the lid with a shy smile and held it in front of Amy, who was high enough on her father’s shoulder to look down into the basket. The child let out a cry of delight. “Kitty,” she exclaimed.
Maddy frowned and looked into the basket. A small black cat was inside, resting on a folded-up newspaper. “Oh,” she said, a little dismayed.
“You did want one, didn’t you?” asked Ellen.
Doug gave his wife a warning glance. “Of course we do. We’ve been thinking about getting a cat.”
“He’s adorable,” said Maddy. “Its just that we’re not actually prepared…”
“Ah, but I thought of that,” said Ellen. “Before I came in for dinner, I filled you up a bag of litter, and put that and two cans of cat food in your car. That’ll hold you till tomorrow.”
“My kitty,” Amy exclaimed.
“We can’t thank you enough,” said Doug. “That was very kind of you.”
Chastened by Doug’s graciousness, Maddy put on a smile. “Yes, thank you very much for everything.”
“We’d better make a run for it,” said Doug.
They scurried for the car doors, Maddy carrying the basket with the kitten in it. She opened the back door and put it on the seat while Doug belted Amy into her car seat. Then they each got into the front seat and slammed the doors.
“Phew,” said Maddy, shaking the rain off her hair. She turned and waved at Charles and Ellen. Their blurry silhouettes wavered against the golden light in the doorway.
“I’ll put the heat on,” said Doug as he pulled away from the edge of the drive.
“Please do.”
In the backseat, Amy was crooning to her new pet. “You’ll have to think of a name for him, honey,” Maddy said.
“His name’s Blacky,” Amy announced.
“Blacky’s a good name,” said Maddy. She turned back and stared out through the swishing wipers. “What a miserable night,” she said.
“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Doug said defensively.
“Oh no, not that,” said Maddy. “I meant the weather.” She was thoughtful for a minute. “I did think giving us that cat was a little strange, though.”
“She probably just thought Amy would like it.”
“Mmmm,” said Maddy. “Oh, I know she meant well. There’s just something odd about it…”
“The rich are supposed to be eccentric,” Doug said. “God, I wonder what it would be like to live like that.”
“It seems kind of lonely.”
“I wouldn’t mind trying it,” said Doug. “Servants, grounds, beautiful cars, expensive things.”
“All the happiness money can buy,” said Maddy.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” said Doug. “Although at this rate, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. We’ll be living like this forever.”
“What does that mean?” said Maddy. “What’s wrong with the way we live?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he said. “It was just…pleasant being there. Spending a little time in those surroundings. In all that luxury.”
“I think we do all right,” she said. She stopped herself from reminding him that any savings they had accrued toward a more comfortable life were now going to be in Charles Henson’s pockets. After all, Doug wasn’t to blame for that. He’d had to be defended against Heather Cameron’s wild accusations no matter what the cost.
“Yeah, we do fine,” said Doug. He was hunched forward over the steering wheel, peering out. “God, it’s teeming out there. We should have taken those umbrellas they offered us.”
“I wanna see Blacky,” Amy crooned from the backseat.
“Not now, honey,” Maddy said automatically, craning her neck to see the road ahead as the car crawled along. “Daddy’s trying to concentrate. You just stay quiet. You’ll see Blacky when we get home.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes until the rain let up, then Doug sat back against the seat and resumed a normal speed.
Maddy relaxed a little bit and started thinking again about Doug’s reaction to the Hensons’ wealth. She knew that Doug always felt he had been cheated out of his chance for money and fame. When she met him, an injury to his knee had just ended his baseball career after only one season on a major league team. He had been an angry young man when they met, and she liked to think that her love had helped him get past that disappointment. But sometimes it seemed as if he would never overcome his bitterness.
“You know money isn’t everything, Doug.”
“Not if you’ve got a lot of it,” he agreed wryly.
“Their only child died,” Maddy said. “Did you know that?”
“No, really?” Doug asked.
Maddy nodded. “When he was five years old. Meningitis. Today was his birthday.”
“Jesus,” Doug exclaimed. “That’s horrible. Charles never said anything, but, you know…We never discussed anything personal when I saw him. Well, you know, personal about him….”
“I know,” said Maddy. “Well, I’m just saying, they have had their share of heartache.”
“I guess so,” said Doug.
“Compared to that—the idea of losing a child—we don’t have a care in the world,” she said.
“No, you’re right,” he said absently.
“Blacky’s a good kitty,” piped a little voice from the backseat, as if to remind them of their blessings.
Maddy smiled. Their daughter gave her so much pleasure.
The first year had been a little tough on them both. They hadn’t planned on having a baby so soon after their marriage. Doug was just starting out as a schoolteacher, still smarting from the loss of his sports career. She had encouraged him to go into teaching, in part because she had such respect for her own, late father, who had been a teacher. That she should be married to a teacher seemed so right.
Many times in that first year she wondered if Doug would ever adjust. He seemed overwhelmed by the new job and the responsibilities of fatherhood. Then again, sometimes she hadn’t exactly felt equal to being a mother. But they had adjusted. Nothing could fill your life with joy like a small child. She thought, fleetingly, of Ellen and Charles. Those poor people. How they must have suffered. She shook her head and gazed at her own dark reflection in the side window, covered with raindrops. I wouldn’t be in their shoes for a
ny amount of money, she thought.
“Goddammit!” Doug cried. Maddy jerked around; a dark blur obscured her husband’s face.
“Blacky,” Amy cried.
For a moment Maddy could not tell what was going on. Then, twisting around in her seat, she saw the open basket, empty now, the child’s arms stretching out toward her father in the front seat, the scratches on his face, the blood black and shiny in the darkness of the car. The cat was squawling. With a sensation of time slowing down, Maddy heard the brakes squeal.
Blacky scrambled off of Doug’s neck and onto the dashboard. For an instant the cat’s chartreuse eyes stared into hers, his pupils tiny slits. Oncoming headlights illuminated the kitten, his black fur standing on end, bad luck incarnate. Then she was blinded by the oncoming headlights. She heard Doug shouting, “Hold on,” as he grabbed desperately for the wheel.
“Amy!” Maddy screamed as the car swerved and spun out of control on the slippery roadway.
Chapter Five
The hospital lobby was dimly lit but still humming, even late at night. Hospital staff came and went, their rubber soles squeaking on the highly polished floor. A well- modulated voice paged doctors on the PA system. Carrying Amy, Maddy rubbed her daughter’s back and walked along beside Ruth Crandall, the mother of one of Amy’s playmates, Ginny.
“Ruth, I can’t thank you enough for coming out like this,” said Maddy.
“Oh, heavens. I’m glad to do it.”
“You’re gonna go with Miss Ruth, honey,” Maddy said softly. “She’s gonna take you and George to her house.”
“That’s right,” said Ruth said cheerfully. “Ginny is all excited about you coming over. You’re gonna sleep in her room with her.”
Maddy squeezed her child tightly, her mind once again filled with the sights and sounds of the accident, that moment of utter terror, the noises that seemed to burst in her ear, and then the sick fear when they spun to a halt and she did not know if her daughter was all right. It was only a moment, but she would remember it forever.
“I love you more than said to anything,” she said to Amy.
“Come on, little one,” Ruth crooned, and the tired child gave up her protest and fell into Ruth’s familiar arms, the stuffed monkey still dangling from her pudgy hand.
“I’ll come get her in the morning,” Maddy promised. “Sleep tight, my angel.” She kissed the soft, streaky cheek again, then reluctantly let her go. She stood behind the sliding doors of the entrance and waved as they went out into the night. With a sinking heart, she turned to head back to the emergency room.
“Maddy,” a familiar voice cried.
Maddy turned around wearily and then brightened at the sight of the man approaching her, his eyes filled with concern. “Father…Nick,” she said.
“Just Nick,” he said. “How many times must I tell you?”
“It’s the collar,” she said. “It’s automatic.”
Nick Rylander sighed and tugged at the collar as if it were tight. “I was doing my weekly visit at the prison today. I always wear the dog collar up there. I don’t want anybody mistaking me for an inmate and slamming me into some cell by mistake.”
Maddy smiled briefly. “I don’t blame you. I’m sure it’s tough. Going up there.”
“I don’t mind it,” he said. “Today I was happy to be there. A guy I’ve counseled for several years got let out. He was kind of a chronic troublemaker, but he’d been doing time for murder and all along he maintained his innocence. Recently, they arrested a guy for a similar crime and he confessed to this murder, too. So, my guy was sprung. It was kind of a joyful day. Never mind about that,” he said impatiently. “What in the world are you doing here at this hour?”
“We were in a car accident tonight.”
“No,” he said, and his vehemence surprised her. “What happened?”
Maddy explained about their visit to the Hensons’, the kitten’s escape from his basket, and the ensuing accident. “Doug’s down in Emergency. I’m on my way back down there.”
“Is he badly hurt?”
“I’ve been trying to find out. I’ve been bugging them at the nurses’ station, but I can’t seem to get an answer.”
She fiddled anxiously with a delicate silver ID bracelet she wore. Her wrists looked narrow and fragile as matchsticks to him. “And Amy? How is Amy? Where is she?”
“Oh, my neighbor just came to take Amy home. She’s okay. Thank God. In all the commotion, the kitten bolted into the woods. We couldn’t find him afterward. Amy was more upset about the cat than anything else.”
“He’ll be okay,” said Nick. “You know how cats land on their feet.”
“I hope so.”
“People, too,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
Maddy shook her head. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’ll walk with you,” he said.
“Oh, it’s late, Father…Nick,” she corrected herself. “You go on.”
“Not a chance,” he said, putting a hand lightly on her elbow.
“I forgot,” she said wryly. “This is your job.”
Nicholas Rylander did not correct her. He steered her through the corridor, his hand cupping her fragile elbow as they walked, and he stole a glance at her tired, strained face. He knew about the accusations against Doug by that young teenager, even though Maddy had never mentioned it to him. Everyone in town knew. Maddy had held her head high throughout, a faithful, steadfast wife. Yet with her shoulder-length dark hair, bangs, and freckles, she looked hardly more than a teenager herself. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” he said.
Maddy nodded fretfully. “I just keep thinking how stupid I was. This all could have been avoided. I feel terrible about the people in the other car. They left in an ambulance. I don’t know how they’re doing, either. And it was our fault…Nick.”
“Oh, come on,” he said.
“Really. I mean it was an accident, but if I hadn’t put the kitten in the backseat with Amy…”
“It was an accident,” he said firmly. “That’s what an accident is.”
“I guess you’re right.” She sighed. “Here we are.”
Maddy hurried up to the nurse’s station and inquired after Doug.
“I have no information,” said the nurse on duty in exasperation.
“But I need to know something,” Maddy pleaded.
“Nurse McCarthy,” Nick said gently, leaning over the desk, “we’re going to be in the lounge. I would really appreciate it if you could find out about Mr. Blake for me.”
The nurse looked up at him in surprise and then blushed. “Certainly, Father Nick,” she said piously, welcoming the opportunity to come to the aid of her parish priest.
“Come on,” said Nick. “Let’s sit down in there.”
Reluctantly Maddy let him lead her to a lounge that was more brightly lit than the corridors, with orange and turquoise chairs, a box of toys, and an assortment of magazines scattered on end tables. A television suspended from the ceiling played quietly above them. Maddy sat on a chair, her back to the TV. Nick walked over to the coffee station and dislodged a couple of Styrofoam cups. The lounge contained only a few people. A heavy set, gray-haired man in a buffalo plaid shirt sat with his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, his clenched jaw belying his apparent repose. In a corner by the window two women sat knitting, talking in low voices, each possessed of a canvas tote bag that seemed to be brimming with necessities for a long stay in this room. A middle-aged couple sat nervously by the doorway, looking out constantly, obviously waiting for the doctor to appear.
Nick brought the coffee back and handed her a cup.
Maddy looked ruefully at the steaming liquid. “I guess I might as well. I won’t be sleeping tonight anyway.”
Nick nodded and took a sip. “Me neither.”
“What’s your excuse?” she said.
“Oh, packing, you know. Tying up loose ends.”
“That’s right, you’re leaving,” she excla
imed, noticing that his thoughtful, handsome face was haggard. “When is it? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems…”
Your husband’s problems, he thought, and in spite of himself, he felt a little bitterness. He knew that Doug had been exonerated in court. That should have been the end of it. After all, hadn’t he just witnessed today that an innocent man could be unjustly imprisoned? Yet he wondered about Doug Blake. He had an easygoing manner, but there was something cold in his eyes, Nick thought. Maybe, if he was honest, it was just the thought of leaving Maddy to him that made Nick dislike Doug Blake so much. Yet so often, where there was smoke…
“Nick?”
“Oh, actually I’m leaving day after tomorrow,” he said. “Or I hope to.”
“So soon?” she said sadly. “I was just getting to know you.” She had met him when she’d started the stained-glass window commissions for the new chapel at his church. She had found him perceptive and easy to talk to. “Is it a smaller church that you’re going to, up in…where is it? Nova Scotia.”
Nick nodded. “Actually, no, I’m not going to a church…”
“You’re not?”
He shifted in his seat as if uncomfortable with the discussion. “I’m going to be supervising some art restoration at an old monastery up there.”
Maddy wanted to ask him why, but she could see he didn’t really want to talk about it. “I’ll miss you,” she said.
Nick frowned and then looked around the room. His gaze landed on the television screen. “Did you hear about this?” he asked grimly.
Maddy swiveled around in her chair to see what he was looking at. On the screen was a disheveled woman in a flowered dress, her eyes red with weeping, a stoic young man with a stubbly beard beside her. The woman was explaining how her missing baby was dressed. When she began to describe the red sweater with the Dalmatian on it that his grandmother had knitted, she broke down crying. The number of a tips hot line ran like a ticker tape across the bottom of the screen. Maddy felt her own eyes well up. She shook her head. “What happened?”
“Baby-sitter disappeared with their child today. Right here in town,” Nick said.
“Oh, my God, how awful. They look like a couple of children themselves.”
Lost Innocents Page 4