The Swick and the Dead

by Maggie Foster

He looked at her in sympathy. “I know the feeling.” He pulled the car into the parking lot of the sailboat shop, turned off the ignition, then faced her.

  “I have one more thing I want to say. Ginny Forbes, you and I can’t go back to the way we were before and I wouldn’t want to. I’m glad we were thrown together, and I want that to continue. I know I have a lot to learn, but I also have things I can offer, if you’ll let me.”

  She nodded. “I want this to work, too. I just don’t want you to think you have to fix me. That’s my job.”

  Jim nodded. “Promise you’ll come to me if you need anything.”

  She looked at him then nodded. “On one condition—that you do the same.”

  “Agreed. Now, let’s go see if we can find a toy boat to put in my stocking.”

  * * *

  Sunday afternoon

  Sail Shop

  They spent the next two hours looking at sailboats and Jim saw several that might do, but he didn’t fall in love with any of them. He decided to wait until summer, when the selection would be better. Also, he was having trouble concentrating.

  He’d never had a companion on his boat before. It had always been just him and the vessel and the elements. It gave him an odd feeling to see Ginny walking around the display models, absorbed in the search. She seemed to be enjoying herself, peering into the interiors, asking questions, trying out the deck chairs. If he got his way, she would become a part of every aspect of his life. He would have to learn to share his toys and, as an only child, he’d had little chance to learn how.

  She was testing him, too, descending the ladders too quickly. When he realized what she was up to, he turned the tables on her, blocking her exit, forcing her to jump and trust him to catch her. When he had her in his arms, he found her trembling. She buried her face in his shirt and he held her, stroking her hair until she stopped shaking.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I want to trust you. I do.”

  “I know. Just give it time.”

  On the drive back, they talked about the boats, Jim explaining the types of sail craft and the ways they could be used. He let his passion show and glanced over to find her smiling at him. “Am I boring you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “It gets under your skin.”

  “My skin is not made for spending much time on the water. I burn if you look at me sideways.”

  “That’s what you get for being a redhead. Sunscreen is available, as are sleeves. Do you get motion sick?”

  “No, though I’ve heard anyone can get seasick under the right conditions.”

  “Even that can be handled. How about some dinner?”

  It was emblematic of their medical training that neither Jim nor Ginny had any trouble going from vomit to veal without missing a beat.

  “Will you buy me a steak with garlic bread and iced tea and a nice salad?”

  He smiled over at her. “Whatever you want.”

  She met his eye. “Let’s start with dinner.”

  Jim was just opening his mouth to reply when his phone went off. He pulled it out, glanced at the number, then handed it to Ginny.

  “Put it on speaker.”

  “Hello?”

  Himself’s voice answered. “Auch, Ginny, is it you, lass?”

  “Yes. Jim’s driving, but we’ve got you on speakerphone.”

  “Aye, well lad, listen then. There’s a bit o’ a situation at th’ Hillcrest ER and I’ve a mind ye should go find out what they’re talkin’ aboot. Something tae do wi’ a bairn. Can ye go?”

  Jim glanced over at Ginny and sighed. Dinner would have to wait. “Yes,” he replied. “We can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Let me know what ye find.”

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  He watched Ginny end the call. “Guess I’ll have to owe you that steak.”

  She smiled at him. “That’s all right. I’ll be just as happy with drive-through chicken.”

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  Day 3 – Sunday evening

  Hillcrest Regional Emergency Department

  They pulled into one of the parking spaces reserved for ER physicians.

  “This way.” Jim led her through the ambulance bay and into the back of the Emergency Department.

  “Jim! I thought you were off tonight.” Richard Lyons handed the x-ray he was holding to one of the nurses and turned toward them.

  “I am. My grandfather said you had an issue with a child. Have you met Ginny Forbes?”

  “I’ve seen your name on the schedule, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

  Ginny shook the offered hand. “I work nights.”

  “Ah, that explains it.” He smiled, then turned back to Jim. “We’ve put him in a treatment room, to give him some privacy.” He led the way. “And I had Bryan look him over. He seems healthy.” They stopped outside Room Six.

  Jim nodded. “So what’s the problem?”

  Dr. Lyons’ brow creased. “According to the boy, his mother brought him here, sent him inside to wait for her, then never appeared. A nurse noticed him in the waiting room. She asked him where his mother was, after which she got one of the security guards to do a grounds search. No sign of trouble.

  “The security footage shows the boy getting out of a white sedan, but no shot of the license. There’s no answer at the phone number he gave us. And no one has seen a woman answering her description.” He reached over and opened the door.

  Ginny looked past the men to see a small boy sitting on the exam table with his knees drawn up and his head down on them. The sitter rose when she saw them, then gathered up her purse.

  “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  Dr. Lyons thanked her, then turned his back on the boy, lowering his voice. “Since then all he’s done is cry. Not that I blame him.”

  Ginny put a hand on Jim’s arm. “I’ve got an idea.” She hurried out to the car, grabbed the take-out, and hurried back. It was no longer piping hot, but that was probably a good thing. She gestured toward the boy with her head. “Let me try.”

  She shut the door on the two men, closing herself in with the child, then put the food down on the countertop and pulled the lid off. The aroma filled the room. She helped herself to a drumstick, and began to nibble.

  She had positioned herself so she could see the child without actually facing him. She worked on her drumstick for a moment, then fished out another and held it out in the direction of the exam table. “Are you hungry?”

  When the child didn’t respond, she set the second drumstick down on a napkin and put it where he could reach it, then picked up her own, making lip-smacking noises. “Ummmm!”

  She caught the gleam of a small eye peeking at her over the edge of his sleeve. “Go ahead. Help yourself.” She went back to eating, licking her fingers as well as her lips.

  He reached down to pick up the drumstick, then bit into it, abandoning caution in the natural response of a small child to fried chicken. Ginny smiled and fished out another piece, placing it where the first had been.

  “My name’s Ginny. What’s yours?”

  He hesitated, his eyes on her, then went back to chewing.

  Ginny moved the bucket over to the exam table so he could reach, wiped her fingers on a napkin, and settled down in a chair, leaning back, her fingers laced and resting on her belly.

  “What we need now is pecan pie.” She cocked her head at the child. “Too bad we don’t have any.”

  He was working his way through a third drumstick, using both hands and all ten fingers.

  “Ice cream would be good, too.”

  He looked up at that.

  “Maybe we can get some later.” She watched him wipe his hands on his shirt, noticing it had started the day a good deal cleaner than it was now. “Did you go to the park today?”

  He shook his head. “Sunday school.”

  “Me, too.” She lifted her nose and took a sniff. “Are you sure you didn’t go to th
e park? I think I smell some sort of animal in this room.”

  He shook his head vigorously, his eyes on hers.

  She touched her nose. “You see this nose? This nose knows!”

  He smiled at that. “The zoo.”

  “Aha! I knew it! You rode a zebra.”

  He shook his head.

  “A lion.”

  “A goat,” he volunteered.

  Ginny let her eyes grow big. “You rode a goat?”

  He shook his head. “I petted a goat and fed him some milk.”

  “In a bottle?”

  “Uh huh, and then we saw some penguins and a tiger and a bear.”

  Ginny smiled. “Sounds like fun. What was your favorite animal?”

  “The helefant.”

  “The elephant? Did you feed him, too?”

  The child shook his head. “He was big and he made a noise.”

  Ginny nodded. “I’ve heard that noise. It’s loud and if you’re not careful he’ll try to push you around with his trunk.”

  “He tried, but he couldn’t reach me!” The boy smiled triumphantly.

  “Good job! What’s your name?”

  “Luis.”

  “Good job, Luis! That’s a nice name. What’s your last name, Luis?”

  “Perez.”

  “Are you thirsty, Luis?”

  He nodded and accepted the bottle of water Ginny offered.

  “Where’s your momma, Luis?”

  “Don’t know.” His face clouded.

  “Maybe we can go find her.”

  He shook his head, then burst into tears.

  Ginny got up from her chair, leaned against the side of the exam table, and carefully gathered the child into her arms.

  “Mama said to wait for her here.”

  “Are you sick, Luis?”

  He shook his head.

  “Or hurt?”

  Again, he shook his head, rubbing his damp nose on his sleeve.

  “Well, she must have had a good reason. Can we call her and find out?”

  “Tried.” He started crying again. “I want to go home.”

  “That sounds like a really good idea. Let’s see if we can figure out how to get you home.” She went over to her purse, pulled out her phone, and dialed Jim.

  “How’s it going in there?” he asked.

  “Luis has had dinner, and would like to go home, and I was wondering if that’s a possibility.”

  “We haven’t figured out what to do with him.”

  “Can we continue this discussion at my house? I think he’d be more comfortable there.”

  “Hang on.”

  Ginny could hear Jim’s voice in the background, then returning to the phone.

  “I’m coming in.”

  She heard the call end, then the door started to open, slowly, so as not to startle the boy. Jim stepped in. She went back to stand beside Luis.

  “Hello, Luis,” Jim said. He sniffed the air. “This room sure smells good!”

  The boy looked warily at Jim, then turned his face into Ginny’s shoulder.

  Jim walked over and looked down into the bucket of chicken. “Ummmm! Fried chicken! I can hardly wait, but I want to eat mine in comfort.” He smiled at Luis. “Let’s go find a nice, warm kitchen.”

  Ginny took a hasty swipe at Luis’ hands and face, then she and Jim got him into his coat. Ginny held out her hand and Luis put his in hers, then moved in close, leaning against her.

  They didn’t have a child seat in Jim’s car, so they were forced to put Luis in the back with the belt fastened as snuggly as Ginny could get it to go. Jim set the childproof locks, then waited while Ginny got in, closed the door, and put on her seatbelt.

  She looked at their passenger. “Ready?”

  The child nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Sunday evening

  Forbes residence

  “Mother?” Ginny called. “We have a guest.”

  Mrs. Forbes met them in the kitchen.

  “This is Luis. He’s had some chicken. Do we have any milk we can offer him?”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Forbes smiled at the boy. “Come sit over here.”

  The child was reluctant to be touched by another stranger, but they managed to get him seated at the kitchen table with milk and cookies while Ginny slipped into the other room to try to locate his mother.

  She dialed the number Luis had given her. No answer. She left a message explaining who she was and how she and Luis met and asking Mrs. Perez to call as soon as possible.

  Back in the kitchen she found Luis finishing the last of the cookies, her mother tossing a salad, and Jim polishing off the chicken. She put her hand on the boy’s head and ran her fingers through his dark curls. No obvious neglect. No sign of abuse, mental or physical. He was appropriately wary of strangers and started asking about going home the minute she appeared.

  Ginny explained she had left a message for his mother.

  “And I’ve called Himself. He’s on his way over,” Jim said.

  Ginny sat down where Luis could see her. “Did your momma tell you when she’d be back to pick you up?”

  He shook his head.

  “Tomorrow?”

  Another shake.

  “What about school?” All the area schools were preparing for the Christmas break, but it hadn’t started yet.

  He shrugged.

  “Does your momma take you or do you go on a bus?”

  “She takes me.”

  “What time?” Ginny was thinking she might catch someone who knew something if she could figure out where the boy was supposed to be the next morning.

  He shrugged again, the details of carpooling of no concern to him.

  Jim was making himself useful, dishing vanilla ice cream into four bowls. He handed them around. “What school do you go to, Luis?” he asked.

  “Our Lady.”

  Ginny glanced at her mother. “Kindergarten?”

  Luis nodded.

  “Where is the school located?”

  Luis shrugged.

  Ginny rose and made her way upstairs to her computer. She did a quick search of the kindergartens with any variant of the name “Our Lady” and compiled a list. No sense trying to call tonight. They would all be closed.

  When she got back to the kitchen, her mother had disappeared, Jim was washing up, and Luis was emptying his pockets onto the (now vacant) cookie plate. She took a chair next to him and watched. It was an eclectic assortment of the things one might find in a small boy’s pocket: a toy car, two nickels and four pennies, a red crayon, a plastic card, a folded piece of lined paper, dirt, and a turtle.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “My stuff.”

  “Okay. Why are you putting them on the cookie plate?”

  “Seymour’s hungry.”

  Ginny watched as Luis tried to coax the turtle out of his shell with cookie crumbs. “Why did you name him Seymour?”

  “’Cause if he sticks his neck out he can see more.”

  “Ah.” She rose, pulled a lettuce leaf out of the salad bowl and gave it to Luis. “Try this,” she said, then picked up the plastic card. It was a pre-paid phone card upon which someone had written Luis’ address and telephone number.

  He was having some luck with the lettuce, she could see the tip of a tiny snout peeking out from the turtle’s shell. She unfolded the piece of paper and read the note.

  God forgive me for doing this, but I am desperate. If they find me, they will kill me, like they killed Phyllis. She is dead because of me, because of what I told her. She said there was a Safe Haven law that allowed her hospital to take in children whose mothers cannot care for them. Take Luis, please, and keep him safe until I can come for him. Please, please do not call the police. They will use him to get to me. Tell him I love him. Tell him—God willing—I will come for him. ¡Dios te bendiga! ¡Santa María, madre de Dios, ten piedad de mí! En nosotros dos. Maria Perez.

  Ginny
handed the note to Jim, who read it, his eyebrows rising. He looked up and caught her eye. “This woman knew Phyllis Kyle?”

  “It certainly looks like it.”

  “Joey.”

  Ginny looked at Luis. “What?”

  “Joey Kyle and Pe’er.”

  “Do you know Joey Kyle?”

  Luis nodded. “He’s in my class at school.”

  A shadow had appeared in the kitchen doorway and Ginny watched as Jim handed the note to the Laird, who looked at it, then crooked his finger at Ginny. She followed him into the living room and sat down facing him.

  “Poor wee lad. What’s his mither gotten herself into, I wonder?”

  “The question is, what do we need to do about it?”

  “A bed fer th’ nicht first, I think.” Himself pulled out his phone and set to work.

  Ginny took the opportunity to peek into the kitchen. She found Luis on Jim’s lap. The child was getting tired and, as a result, fractious.

  “I want to go home!”

  “As soon as possible. I promise.”

  Jim was talking to Luis, looking relaxed and natural, as if small boys were a routine part of his life. Ginny hadn’t seen him at work in the ER, but she’d heard he was good with children. She smiled to herself then rejoined her mother and the Laird.

  “Ginny, lass. The shelter can tak’ him, but not ’til th’ morrow. Sinia tells me ye can put him in Sandy’s room.”

  Ginny nodded. Her brother was grown and married and living in Atlanta so his room served for guests. “What about the police? She said not to call them.”

  “If th’ woman has vanished, they’ll ha’e tae be told sae they can search fer her. I’ll tak’ care o’ that.”

  Ginny nodded, then went to tell Jim and Luis about the arrangements. She found them building a terrarium.

  Jim looked at her, smiling. “It’s just a temporary shelter for Seymour, but he’ll be a lot more comfortable than he was in Luis’ pocket.” When they were done, Jim carried the boy upstairs and showed him the bed and bathroom and tucked him in. Ginny made sure Seymour’s new home was stable and visible. She had no illusions about how important that tiny lifeline was going to be over the next few days.

  She saw Jim and his grandfather out, then went back to Luis’ room. She had left the light on and could see him, curled up on his side, his eyes squeezed shut. Ginny went over and sat on the edge of the bed.