A Child Lost

by Michelle Cox

  Henrietta was about to ask if he hit her, but she stopped herself. She didn’t wish to humiliate the poor woman. And even if Mrs. Tobin told her the truth, there was nothing either of them could do to change it.

  “Louise!” came a shout from the front room as if on cue, causing Mrs. Tobin to jump. “Get out here with that coffee, woman, so these two can get out of here. I’ve got to get to my Elks meeting!”

  Louise Tobin hurriedly picked up the tray and shot Henrietta a nervous smile. “Ten o’clock this Friday,” she whispered and bustled out under the load she carried.

  Chapter 14

  “What do you mean? I think it’s smashing that you’re going to Miami!” Melody exclaimed.

  “Well, it’s not for sure,” Elsie said hesitantly from her little desk in the room she shared with Melody. “I’m still hoping I can get out of it.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Melody asked, plopping down on the side of her bed as she wrapped a bit of her hair around her finger. “Miami’s the place to be over spring break. That or Atlantic City. I think Douglas may be going there with his family, so you might run into him. Where’d you say you’re staying?”

  “The Flamingo, I think. But that’s if I go. I’m not sure that—”

  “It’s positively beastly that Pops won’t take us anywhere this year!” Melody interrupted with a pout. “Fred’s graduating, so Pops is taking us to Paris over the summer to celebrate. That will be heavenly, of course, but it means I’m stuck in Wisconsin for break. Still, I’m being awfully wicked. I’ve been to Miami loads of times, and you haven’t, so I’m done being envious and now I’m going to just be happy for you. You’ll love it. It’s terrifically fun. Plenty of swarthy Latin lover types to foxtrot with, though none of them were ever allowed even remotely close to me,” she said with another charming pout. “But I did slip out one night and had champagne with a man named Rodrigo by the fountain in front of the Nautilus.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “He promised me all sorts of ridiculous things before Pops caught us! He would have thrashed him, if Mums hadn’t held him back and stopped him. It was quite the scene, I’ll tell you, and one which Pops didn’t forgive me for for the longest time. Honestly, nothing happened. Unfortunately,” she added with a laugh. “Anyway, you’re sure to have the most exquisite adventures and at least one love affair, especially with only your old Aunt Agatha to keep an eye on you. I should imagine it would be terribly easy to outfox her—but be careful, those Latin types propose every two seconds, so . . . Oh! . . . Oh,” she said, wincing. “Sorry. I forgot again—about the nun thing. Sorry,” she added soberly.

  “It’s all right,” Elsie said with a small smile. “But I do wish I were going with you instead. I’d love to see Merriweather someday.”

  “Why? It’s terrifically dull. And, anyway, you don’t want to come in spring.”

  “Why ever not? I would have thought it would be lovely that time of year.”

  “Some parts are, I guess, but spring in farmland isn’t all that pretty. It’s just mud and more mud.”

  “Surely you have a lot of flowers?”

  “In a sea of mud? The effect is ruined. Unless you can train your eye to only see the yellow of the daffodil and not the vast brown that surrounds it.”

  “And here I took you for a romantic,” Elsie teased, inclining her head at the book in front of her, where she just happened to be toiling over Wordsworth’s “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud.”

  “Speaking of romance,” Melody said, obviously not catching Elsie’s deeper meaning, “I know you’re not keen to date, considering your . . . your condition . . . your intent . . . I mean your vocation . . . Jeepers! I’m getting this all wrong!” She paused to collect herself before starting again. “I was wondering, actually, if you . . . if you thought you might take pity on poor Clarence and go with him to the Delta Sig’s Spring Formal?” she asked, her voice getting uncomfortably higher and higher. “I mean, just as pals. Nothing more.”

  Elsie sighed. Not yet another invitation to a dance! She despaired at the thought, and yet, she allowed herself to muse for just a moment, attending something as simple as a fraternity formal would be comparatively easy after having attended countless real balls at the most prestigious mansions on the North Shore. And without Aunt Agatha or Grandfather or any of the other Exleys, for that matter, sizing her up and watching her every move, it might actually be enjoyable for once.

  But what was she thinking? she scolded herself, suddenly realizing the errant path her mind had wandered down. She didn’t have time for this type of frivolity, nor did she want to, really. All of her free time was spent thinking about a certain other person and how she might help him. She had come up with an idea, actually, regarding Anna, but she was pretty sure Gunther would reject it—if she could ever find him to explain it, that is. He was never anywhere to be found these days.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” Melody said, interrupting her thoughts and obviously misunderstanding her silence. “It’s all right. Really. But don’t you think you should have a little bit of fun while you still can, Els? I mean, there will be time for prayers and all that later, after you . . . after you take the veil. Is it true they make you shave your head?” Melody asked eagerly, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them.

  Elsie let out a deep breath. She couldn’t keep up this farce any longer. It was weighing on her too much, and she truly liked Melody too much to continue lying to her.

  “Listen, Melody, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you about that. I . . . well, I haven’t been exactly forthcoming . . . honest, actually, about becoming a nun.” Carefully she set her pencil down, pressing it with her finger to keep it from rolling.

  “Don’t tell me you already are a nun!” Melody said, her eyes wide. “Please don’t say that! You’re not, are you?”

  Elsie couldn’t help but give a little laugh. “No, of course not! No, it’s just that, I did at one point truly want to become a nun, but . . .”

  “Yes?” Melody asked excitedly, seeming not the least bit offended so far by Elsie’s confession.

  “But now I . . . I’ve sort of changed my mind—”

  “I knew it!” Melody exclaimed. “I knew you couldn’t become a nun! How dreary would that be? I mean, if that’s your calling, I guess, but, oh, Elsie, I’m so glad! You’ve no idea. I mean, who has a nun for a roommate? First Norma left after only one term, and then I get a nun. I was beginning to think it was me or something. But, oh, Elsie I’m ever so glad . . . even though it’s wickedly selfish of me—God forgive me! You would have made a lovely nun, of course, and I’m sure God would be glad of it and everything, but, gee whiz,” she gushed. “It’s better this way, isn’t it? Don’t you think?”

  Elsie could not help but laugh in earnest at Melody’s joyous response despite the fact that Elsie basically lied to her. “But there’s more to it than that,” Elsie said soberly, knowing that it would do no good to leave Melody thinking that she was once again an open playing field for her romantic machinations. “More?” Melody crowed. “Oh, what a lucky day I’m having! Are you going to finally tell me your secret?” Melody whispered deliciously. “The one I knew you had! Oh, I wish Cynthia were here, too! But no matter . . . Let me guess! You’re in love! I knew you were, you know!”

  Elsie let out a deep breath, not a little disappointed that Melody had guessed so easily, but then again, she had been guessing that since nearly the first day they had met. Melody seemed under the impression that everyone was secretly in love with someone, so much so that if someone in her acquaintance actually did find themselves in such a state, it was, in and of itself, surprising.

  “Well, yes, actually,” Elsie said, blushing. “I . . . I do think I’m in love.”

  “I knew it!” Melody said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “But don’t tell me it’s with one of those stuffy North Shore stiffs your aunt is always trying to set you up with. From what you describe, they’re positi
vely elderly! Is it Clarence?” she asked after a moment’s thought. “Do say it’s Clarence! No—it’s not Clarence, is it? That would be expected, so he can’t be it. Is it Charlie? Is that it? Is that why you’re telling me now, here, alone, without Cynthia?”

  Elsie laughed out loud. Being with Melody was so light and amusing. Everything in her life was so marvelously carefree and trivial. Nothing bad or depressing or tragic ever seemed to happen in her world. It was delightful to be a part of; no wonder she had so many friends. “No, silly, it’s not Douglas—or Bernie, in case that’s the next question. Now, remember, this is a very big secret. No one can know. Especially Sister Bernard. The truth is that I’m in love with—”

  But before Elsie could reveal any secrets, there was a rapid knock on the door just at that moment, which caused them both to jump. Before they could even react, another rapid knock was heard, and Elsie felt a dreadful sinking in her stomach. Somehow, she knew this wasn’t good. She stood up and went to the door, opening it slowly. On the other side stood a panting Gunther, his face sweaty and pained. “Please,” he said, his eyes momentarily darting toward where Melody still sat on her bed. “It’s Anna.” Frantically, he looked back at Elsie, then, his face crumpling. “They’ve taken her.”

  Chapter 15

  “It can’t be all that bad, Clive,” Henrietta said, loosening his tie, as they stood together in their bedroom. Clive had spent the morning in his father’s—his—study, trying to make sense of the latest stack of documents Bennett had delivered, which never ceased to bore him. Meanwhile, Henrietta, she had just related, had spent it closeted with poor Edna in an attempt to turn her into a private secretary rather than have her continue to toil as her maid. Personally, Clive did not see what Henrietta would exactly need a secretary for, but he hadn’t said as much. After all, as she was so frequently reminding him, it was her maid, so he tried to stay out of it.

  He was not surprised, however, by Henrietta’s disappointed revelation just now that in fact, poor Edna seemed barely literate, and besides that, possessed the most atrocious handwriting she had ever seen. Clive had been tempted to say, “I told you so,” but he wisely did not. He would have been happy, however, to continue to discuss Edna’s considerable skills, or lack thereof, had he known that the alternative conversation was to again be about the events of the last couple of days, followed by Henrietta’s recurrent attempt to convince him to attend the séance that night which Mrs. Tobin had told her about. A séance! The very idea of it was ridiculous, and yet, Clive wondered if it would be a chance to catch Madame Pavlovsky red-handed. And then there was the other topic—the Hennessey’s party for their daughter and her new baby in a few days’ time. Neither of them sounded the least bit appealing.

  “This séance or the Hennessey’s party?” he asked dryly, rubbing his forehead.

  “Both, actually,” she said, her fingers pulling at his tie.

  “You can’t really be serious, are you, darling?” he asked with a sigh. “And just why are you undressing me? Dinner isn’t for a couple of hours yet, and Carter will be unbearably crabby if you do his job for him.”

  “He already doesn’t like me, so what does it matter?” she asked, slowly pulling his tie free now.

  He looked down at her, and she returned the look with one of mock innocence. She knew what she was doing all right, he thought, slightly amused, and unfortunately it was working. He found it powerless to resist her. Still, he had to try.

  “The Hennessey’s party I can halfway understand—but a séance?” he asked, clearing his throat.

  “You have to admit you’re curious, Inspector. I know you. Here’s your chance to debunk it. Just think of how wonderful it would be to report back to Davis with the case solved,” Henrietta suggested, unbuttoning his top button.

  “That’s hardly a draw,” he said wryly.

  “I know you’re jealous of him, Clive, so here’s your chance to one-up him.”

  Again, he observed that she knew perfectly well what she was doing, and he couldn’t help but let a smile escape. “You’ve already stated this speculation once before, which I patently ignored at the time and so will do this time as well.”

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed the way he looks at me,” she said, unbuttoning another button.

  “Obviously I have, but I have utter trust in you, darling, so I have no need to be jealous, you see.” As a matter of fact, he was a bit wary of Davis, who was forever ogling Henrietta beyond the point of annoyance. It was one of the reasons he stopped wanting to visit him at the hospital, but Henrietta had insisted, saying that she would go alone, then, if he didn’t feel up to it. Minx! As a cop, a brother-in-arms, he trusted Davis implicitly for some reason—but where his wife was concerned, he decided, it wouldn’t hurt to keep his eye on him.

  “Don’t you want to see Madame Pavlovsky’s trickery, as you call it, in action? And Mrs. Tobin will be there as well. We can see what happens.”

  “I’m sure I can guess what will happen, and I know perfectly well that it’s you who wants to witness another display of her so-called powers,” he said, resting his finger under her chin and staring down into her deep-blue eyes. Why did he want to make love to her all the bloody time? “Oh, all right,” he sighed. “If you really think we should go—professionally, as investigators—I’ll agree. I suppose it can’t do any harm,” he added, hoping this was true. “But we’re not calling up any spirits or dead relatives or any such nonsense, understand?” He attempted to make his voice stern, though in actuality he was more than a little unsettled. Already, he was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

  “And we’ll go to the Hennessey’s party, too?” she pressed.

  He pushed a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek in his hand. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked softly.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean that you’re trying to use your feminine charms on me to get your way,” he said, running his finger along the side of her jaw. God he wanted her.

  “How dare you, Clive Howard!” she said with an indignant tone that he was fairly convinced was put on. “Are you suggesting that I . . . that I’m prostituting myself?”

  “Well, aren’t you?” he said, leaning closer to her now so that there was only an inch between their lips.

  “Beast!” she exclaimed and pulled his chest hair.

  “Ow!” he said, and then pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. “Two can play at this game.”

  “I hope so,” she said mischievously as she ran her finger down his chest and let it rest on his belt, tugging it just slightly.

  “This isn’t the way police business is supposed to work,” he said in a thick voice.

  “I wasn’t aware there was a way.” She kissed him as she pulled his shirt off so that it hung behind him, still tucked into his trousers. “Do illuminate me.”

  “That’s it. I clearly have no choice,” he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her again deeply, his tongue meeting hers. His hands went around her and grasped her buttocks, pulling her sharply against him and holding her there. His lips left hers and traveled down her neck as she slipped out of her heels and began to unzip her skirt. Gently he lifted her silk blouse over her head, leaving her standing before him in her shimmering black slip and French silk stockings.

  She was so lovely to behold that it still took his breath away. She stood before him now, completely unashamed though the afternoon sun shone in through the windows, illuminating them both and hiding nothing. She smiled at him so knowingly that he found his breath catching as she took his hand and led him to their bed. She lay down, gazing at him in a way that was different than any time before. It was a sensual and knowing sort of look, and he found it stirred his attraction for her in an altogether new way. He could see the desire in her eyes, the desire for him to make love to her and please her. She opened her legs slightly, lifting her slip just a little in such a provocative way that he thought he mig
ht go crazy.

  He lunged for her, covering her mouth with his and melting as she wrapped her arms around him. Deeply he inhaled the scent of her, flowery and earthy at the same time, almost like honey, and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of her. With one hand, he cupped her breast, the silkiness of her slip that tightly hugged it arousing him all the more. He bent to kiss the top of her breasts along the edge of her brassiere and slipped his fingers beneath. He felt her hands travel down his thighs, and breathing heavily, he paused to tug her slip over her head, catching her lips for a kiss as he did so, her hair splaying out wildly. He watched as she undid her brassiere, her breasts bouncing out from behind it.

  Hungrily, he took her breasts in his hands and fondled them, slowly, gently, and bent to kiss her erect nipples, causing her to moan as she lay back down. He continued kissing her, moving down her body until he came to her underthings. He kissed her soft place through her knickers and then peeled them off as well, leaving her exposed and quivering.

  “Oh, Clive,” she said, her voice husky with desire and causing something to utterly snap within him. He wanted to plunge into her at that moment, take her and quell the angst that never ceased to burn within him—but he needed control, he knew, and forced himself to breathe deeply. He would never just take her. He wanted her to be ready. He moved back up and kissed her lips, and instead allowed his fingers to explore. He was surprised by how aroused she already was, and his urgency returned so violently that he felt in real danger of exploding too soon. He fought it, though, until she whispered, “Clive, Clive, please,” and he knew it was time to act. He mounted her then, easing himself into her and began to thrust. When she whispered, “harder,” he thought he might positively come undone. He indeed began to thrust harder now and faster, his passion rising until he thought he couldn’t hold it any longer, breaking into a thin sweat.