Deadly Intent (4 page)

“And rescued by a queen, just like the other one.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a queen.”

“Well, I would.”

Her heart gave a pitter-patter. “Well, come on over and meet him.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There was a smile in his voice.

A few moments later, her doorbell rang.

“Come on in, Paul.” She called out as she walked out to greet him.

He wore a T-shirt and shorts. Apparently, he was going informal for his date—very informal.

“I thought you’d be in a suit and tie.”

“What for?”

She forced herself to sound more cheerful than she felt. “For your big date, of course.”

He shook his head. “There is no big date.” He shrugged. “I broke my promise to myself. There wasn’t really anyone else I wanted to ask but you.”

Her face warmed. Turning away, she hoped he hadn’t noticed she was blushing. “Well, come along.” She walked to the kitchen and pointed at the cake she’d baked. “Ta-da! Happy birthday to you!”

“You’ve got to be kidding! You had time to make me a cake? No way.”

“Oh, way.” She smiled, pleased that he seemed genuinely happy. “I wouldn’t let your birthday pass by without something special.” She held up an envelope. “This is for you, too.”

“You are too sweet. You are the queen of kindness.”

“I don’t know about all that.”

Moses peeked around the corner.

Maven smiled and motioned for him. “Hey, come here, Moses. I want you to meet a friend of mine. His name is Paul. Can you say Paul?”

Moses met her gaze.

Paul squatted down so he was eye level with Moses. “Hey, buddy. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Moses stared at Paul.

“That’s OK, you don’t have to shake hands with me. But it is good to meet you. So, what do you think of Maven? She’s a pretty nice lady, isn’t she?”

Moses didn’t respond.

“It’s Paul’s birthday, today. So, it’s birthday cake time!” She lifted up the chocolate-frosted cake so Moses could see it. “Want some?”

A definite smile.

Maven laughed. “Everybody loves cake.”

The three of them were sitting at the dining room table having cake and ice cream when the phone rang.

“Hi, Lizzie.”

“Hurry, turn on the TV. Moses is going to make the six o’clock news.” She hung up without saying good-bye.

Maven searched around her messy living room and found the remote underneath her chair.

Paul came into the room.

While Moses continued to eat his cake in the kitchen, they watched the news story. The reporter did a great job making it as heart-wrenching as possible.

Maven looked at Paul. “Hopefully, someone who knows him will see it.”

9

The man glared at the TV for several long seconds, and then threw his coffee cup against the wall. The shattered pieces of glass tinkled as they hit the bare wood floor.

The woman fought back a sob, grateful her son wasn’t dead. He hadn’t killed him. Maybe, one day she’d be able to find him. Give him the life he deserved. Make him understand how much she loved him.

The man pointed a finger her. “You better hope that’s the last time we see his face on TV. If this becomes a big problem, I’ll take care of it. And you won’t like that, will you?”

“What did you expect was going to happen?”

Very slowly, very deliberately, he turned towards her. His eyes were cold with anger. He raised his hand as if to strike her.

She cowered.

“Are you back-talking me?”

She wiped away her tears. “No, no. Of course not. I just meant that you had to expect a little boy being found alone would have to make the news. They’ll try to find his family. It’s what they do.”

“So, now you’re saying I’m stupid.” His fist smashed against her stomach.

She doubled over in pain, but didn’t make a sound. It would only make him angrier and prolong the situation. His fist smashed down against her back.

Through her gasps of pain, she managed to say, “Of course, you’re not stupid. You’re the smartest man I know.”

He stood above her. “I know that, but I need to make sure you know that.”

She looked up at him. “How could I not know that? Only a genius could do what you’ve been doing and get away with it.”

He smiled, apparently satisfied with her answer. “I am a genius. I did know they’d be looking for him. Sort of like when girls go missing, huh? Not that it matters. They’ll never trace him back to us. I made sure of that.”

10

Maven opened her eyes, totally exhausted. How would she get through another day? Moses had awakened during the night with another screaming session, and nothing she did soothed him. She could only hope he didn’t wake Paul or any of her other neighbors. This was the third night in a row with very little sleep.

Moses showed no signs of sleep deprivation during the day. His energy never seemed to flag the way hers did.

She was way too old for this mothering thing—even temporarily. But she’d made a commitment. She’d turned the light on in his room, went back to her own bed, and put the pillow over her head. Eventually he’d stopped screaming, and she’d managed a few hours of sleep. But now she was so tired. Over the years, many of her students’ parents complained about their child’s sleep problems. She’d been sympathetic as they described the sleep deprivation, but she’d not had any real idea what that meant.

Now, she did.

~*~

Maven walked into Moses’s bedroom.

She wasn’t sure if his screaming at night was nightmares or just frustration at the situation he found himself in. Or missing the people he loved. There must have been someone who loved him and whom he loved. And now here he was, living with a stranger, not being able to communicate.

Maven could imagine his fear and frustration.

God, grant me energy and compassion for this sweet little boy. None of this is his fault.

He sat at his desk, drawing, his blue eyes squinted with concentration. The sunlight made his hair seem even blonder.

Amazed at his focus, Maven spoke softly so as not to startle him. “Good morning, Moses. How are you today?”

His crayon stopped moving for a moment, and then he bent back over his work.

Maven walked over. “Hey, what are you drawing? Can I see it?”

He gave a sidelong glance, and then went back to the drawing. After a few moments, he set the crayon down and handed her the paper.

Maven’s jaw dropped.

She’d expected a childlike drawing of a sun and house or maybe a dog. Not this. In her hand, she held a startling life-like production of a young woman. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. Her hair was a bit too yellow, but other than that, it could be a real person. Could this be his mother?

“Wow, this is beautiful.” She bent down so she was eye level with him. “Who is this, Moses? Is this your mommy?”

Before she knew what was happening, his hands moved up to her cheeks. He held them between his hands and said, “I love you, baby.”

The shock of hearing him speak stunned her. She started to put her arms around him, but he jumped up off the chair and moved away from her, their connection broken. Maven stared down at the picture.

Whether this woman was his mother or not, she was somebody important to him. This sad woman knew Moses’s real name.

Maven needed to find her.

11

Maven shut off the ten o’clock news.

The TV stations had done a great job of catching the viewers’ attention with their touching story of the boy without a name and the drawing of the mystery lady. They’d even filmed them playing at the park on the swings.

There’d been no response to the first story. Maybe this time would be different.

She went into Moses’s room. The small light illuminated his sleeping face. With blond curls framing his features, he reminded her of angels from a long-ago illustrated children’s Bible she’d had.

Why would anyone abandon a child whom they obviously loved?

She fought the urge to touch his cheek or to pull the covers back up for him. He didn’t like to be touched when he was awake, so she doubted he’d respond well while he slept.

As she walked to her room, the phone rang. She jogged to pick it up before the next ring, not wanting to wake Moses. “Hello.”

“Did you see it?” It was so like Lizzie to start a conversation before saying hello.

“I did.” After discussing the piece, Maven casually said, “Oh, did I tell you that Paul asked me out the other night? But I said no.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t say yes. He’s very handsome and a Christian. What more could you want?”

“That’s just it. I don’t want anything or anybody. I don’t want to get involved with any man. I was married to the best husband ever. Why take a chance on a second man?”

“Don’t you get lonely?”

“I keep myself busy. And now with Moses, I certainly don’t have the time to date even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”

“That is ridiculous. God didn’t mean for us to be alone.”

She could almost see Lizzie rolling her eyes.

“That may be true for some people, but I’m fine just the way it is. All I need are a few good friends and God has richly blessed me in that department.”

“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little casual dating.”

“I have no interest in casual dating. And besides, it could hurt my friendship with Paul if we tried dating and it didn’t work out. I’d hate to have to move. I love my condo, and I value his friendship.”

“Again—ridiculous! Paul is one of the good guys. If it didn’t work out, he’d still be a good guy and still be your friend. You’re just looking for reasons not to go on a date with him.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to him to start up something I have no intention of finishing.”

“I know how much it hurt to lose your husband. The two of you were so in love, but you can’t be afraid of—”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You can’t put up barriers to other people. It’s understandable that you’re afraid to fall in love again. But if God’s been good enough to give you a second chance I think you ought to take it.”

This was not something Maven wanted to talk about. “It’s too soon. I just…I just can’t even think about such things.”

A sigh. “OK, I won’t push it.”

“Good. Well, I have to get to bed. Moses is an early riser. Let me know if something happens with the mystery lady.”

“Will do. Sleep tight!”

Maven sat on the edge of the bed reflecting on how much her life had changed in one short week. Between Moses’s needs and Paul asking for a date, it was a bit overwhelming. But it also felt good to take care of someone else. In spite of her exhaustion, she felt peace, and more joyful than she had in a long time—probably since her husband died.

12

The next week flew by.

She and Moses slowly learned how to deal with each other.

He was sweet, but he still couldn’t abide her touching him.

Their days had fallen into a pattern more quickly than she’d thought. Jogging in the park was part of their schedule.

Moses didn’t seem bothered by the fact that it was the same park where he’d been abandoned. He loved the swings.

All in all, they were doing much better together than she’d expected.

With no response to the news stories, there was no mention of him moving to a more permanent placement. That was fine with her.

She sat at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee while Moses ate his breakfast.

Even in the short time he’d been with her, he’d begun to fill out. He looked at his pancake, and then pointed at the syrup bottle. His pancake was already swimming in syrup.

Maven didn’t have the heart to say no. Instead, she picked it up and poured it for him. She wasn’t so sure of her diagnosis of autism any longer. It was still a very real possibility. But she’d seen enough progress to not be sure. In the past few days, he’d begun to speak in single words.

Perhaps he’d not had the stimulation and opportunities to learn normal communication. Or maybe he’d been abused when he did talk. Either way, she was pleased with his improvement. Maybe it was time to touch him and see how he reacted. Perhaps he reacted badly because the only contact he’d ever experienced was painful. But remembering him holding her cheeks and saying, ”I love you, baby” made Maven rethink that.

“Is your pancake good?”

He nodded. More and more he responded to questions with nods and head shakes.

“Want another one?”

He looked down at his last bite as if debating her question. He shook his head, picked up his fork, and took the last bite.

Standing up, Maven picked up the syrup bottle. “After I clean up, then we can go to the park. Does that sound good to you? Lizzie will be there, too. You like Lizzie, right?”

Lizzie and jogging had become part of the routine.

He nodded with a smile. “Lizzie. Park.”

~*~

Lizzie was already at the park when Maven and Moses got there. She waved at them.

In spite of the heat, both Lizzie and Maven wore running suits instead of shorts. They’d agreed modesty was a good thing at their age.

“Hey, slow pokes, where you been? I’ve already done one circuit without you lazy people.” Lizzie bent down to Moses. “Are you ready, little man?”

He nodded.

“Get set, ready, go!”

Maven chimed in, “Bang.”

They all started running, Maven and Lizzie jogged at a slow speed, but Moses ran as fast as he could.

Maven wasn’t worried.

He knew the routine, he would go to the swing sets and wait for them or he’d run back to see why they were so slow.

“You are that child’s miracle, Maven. I can’t believe the difference in him. He behaves almost like any child would now.”

“Thanks, but it hasn’t really been that difficult. He learns faster than I’d expected.”

“So, do you still think he’s autistic or is it trauma-induced?”