Desperate Measures (29 page)

“Would you mind telling me what we're doing here in this dungeon?” Maddie asked wearily.

Janny sat down, her breathing labored. “I'm not sure. You know me, I'm not an idea person. You are, but when you . . . when you . . . did what you did, I didn't know what else to do. What made you . . . why . . . you scared me out of my wits. When Hendriks—that's what he said his name was—left, I knew he was coming back. They want to move me again. If you can believe this . . . because you up and left them. I think they lost you somewhere along the way. He as much as admitted it. Now, you tell me why they want to move
me
if they think you're on your way here? It doesn't make sense.”

“I think what it all comes down to is they didn't know how to react to us, how to treat us,” Maddie said wearily. “They thought we would put up with anything. They didn't figure on either one of us having a mind of our own. We keep talking about this, saying the same things over and over. Why are we here, what do we hope to gain by hiding out in your landlady's cellar? I'm not sure this is one of your better ideas.”

“It gives us a chance to call Pete,” Janny replied. “Look, there's a phone over there at the bottom of the cellar steps. We can use it, make as many calls as we want as long as we leave money to pay for them. Pete will help us. He will, won't he, Maddie?”

“I don't know anything anymore, Janny. I think I screwed everything up for both of us. Because I can't live without my identity doesn't mean you have to feel the same way. I'm me, I'll always be me. Why couldn't those men see that, why couldn't they make provisions for us? I was born Maddie Stern, and if and when I die, I want to die as Maddie Stern, not some Jane Doe person. I should have paid attention to my instincts, but I didn't. And those people fed on our fears. Now look at us. We're running and hiding from people who, misguided or not, are trying to help us. I'm sorry about before, Janny. I guess I reached my breaking point.”

“Look, it's over and done with. The question is, what do we do now?” Janny asked.

“What you said, we call Pete. But we don't leave a message and we don't talk to anyone but Pete.”

“That sounds okay to me. Can I get you a drink, Maddie? You look kind of white and drawn.”

“A drink would be nice. I'm tired to the bone, Janny. I hate it when I can't handle something, and I hate it even more when I botch things up.”

“I think of it as a learning experience,” Janny said airily.

“You know, Janny, we've led a colorful life these past few weeks. Now we can add breaking and entering to our list.”

“We did not break in. Yes, we did enter. We didn't ... enter with the intention of doing harm or to steal. We entered to stay safe. We're going to leave money for the phone calls we make. The door was open. See, that makes all the difference. Are you ready to make your phone call?” she asked as she handed over a paper cup of water she'd drawn from the faucet over the laundry sinks.

“God, yes. Where's the phone?”

“By the steps. I brought a larger light bulb down with me, but I'm not sure we should put it in. Even though those windows are painted black, there might be some cracks in the paint and light will show through. I know I'm paranoid,” Janny said, anticipating Maddie's comment.

But Maddie said, “We don't need a brighter light, and you could be right.”

Maddie sucked in her breath and dialed Pete's number. Her watch said it was four forty-five. She slammed the phone down after the third ring.

“We'll try calling every twenty minutes. We aren't leaving here till I speak to Pete.”

When the hands on Maddie's watch read seven forty-five and Pete still hadn't answered the phone, Janny placed her index finger next to her lips. “I hear something,” she whispered. “Voices.” She pointed to the small window on the opposite side of the cellar. “That window is near my steps.” The girls ran to the window, crouching underneath. “They're going up the steps to , my apartment,” she whispered. “If they're talking, I can't hear what they're saying. It sounds like there's three different voices.”

Maddie rocked back on her heels when she heard a clear, distinct voice bellow, “Where the fuck did they go? She didn't stop to take her things, so that has to mean she left in a hurry. Probably hitchhiked. I told you all along the other one was headed here, but did anyone listen? No! The curly-top was seen in the café with another woman. It could have been anyone, but I know in my gut it was her. Doesn't matter if she had short blond hair or not. Women are forever changing their hair, my wife does it once a week. This is all your fault, Hendriks, and you'll answer for it.”

“Wait a minute, what's this?”

“What's what?” The second voice said.

“There's a note in the mailbox and it's addressed to ... someone named Anna. Maybe our girl put it here?” “Eat shit, Hendriks. It says Mrs. Isaacson went to the festival with her sister and won't be back for three days. Everyone has gone to the damn festival. She'll be back in time for her gin rummy game with this Anna. Now I suppose you're going to tell me this is some kind of code.” The disgust in the man's voice was apparent to everyone within earshot.

Maddie clapped her hands over her mouth. Janny gave her a thumb's up salute.

“They could be hiding in the house somewhere. There's a cellar to this house,” Hendriks said defensively.

“I told you to eat shit, Hendriks. Old ladies lock up their houses, and this old lady probably locked her cellar door too. You do that when you're old so you'll feel safe. You want to check, be my guest.”

The girls ran to the bottom of the moss-covered steps and waited, both of them holding their breath.

“Perps often do the obvious to throw you off the track,” Hendriks said, his voice clear and still defensive.

“This lady is not a perp. She is a federally protected witness. So is the other woman we've been tracking. Thanks to you, Hendriks, this one got away. I say they're long gone, but if you want to break into this house, you take the flak. The damn house is dark and locked tight. Decide.”

A third voice spoke. “I agree with Cunningham, the woman is gone. She's probably in Provo by now. We don't have the manpower to put a man here to watch over things. I can call the sheriff and have him do some ride-bys.”

“Do that,” Hendriks snapped.

“Call it in, Martinson. I'm going to call the Provo police and have them put out an APB on both women. This isn't going to look good for any of us. We aren't supposed to lose people. Now we lost two. How's that going to look? Let's get on the stick and get moving.”

Janny clenched both her fists before shooting them in the air.

Maddie smiled from ear to ear. She laughed. “We're famous.”

“Infamous,” Janny shot back.

“Time to call Pete again,” Maddie said.

Maddie's watch said it was eight-ten when she dialed Pete's number. There was no answer. She tried it again at eight-thirty and again at eight-fifty. “Maybe I should leave a message.”

“No. I don't think that's a good idea, Maddie.”

At nine-twenty, when Maddie placed her call, Annie Gabriel answered the phone. Maddie sucked in her breath and mouthed the words, Pete's friend Annie. She hung up the phone without saying anything.

“I don't think Annie would answer Pete's phone if he was there, do you?” Janny shook her head from side to side.

Jealousy reared its ugly head. Maddie chose her words carefully, her voice neutral. “It doesn't look like Pete is at home waiting for my call. I guess he isn't too broken up over my absence.”

“Maddie, you don't know that. For all you know he could have been in the shower or taking the trash down to the first floor. He could have gone to pick up a pizza. I don't want you thinking like that. Pete loves you as much as you love him. He could even be out combing the streets looking for you.”

“Janny, remember when we were little and we feared something? We thought about it so much, worried ourselves sick that what we feared would happen, and then it did happen because of that fear. This is like that. I can't explain it any better.”

“I think you need to keep an open mind.”

“I think,” Maddie said, sitting down gingerly, “we need to call Nester.”

“Nester! For God's sake, why?”

“He's the one who got us into this mess, and he should be the one to get us out of it.”

“But Maddie, that means we ... that means we have to go back into the program. I thought we were going ... oh, hell, I don't know what I thought.”

“That's just it, Janny, neither one of us can think clearly. We've been fooling ourselves. We know what works for us and what doesn't. My thinking is, Nester can convince the service to work with us, to bend and give a little. I know that I'm personally as close to a nervous breakdown as I'll ever get. People aren't meant to live this way. I cannot give up my life, I just can't. If I do that, there's nothing left. It doesn't mean you have to do it too.” Her tone of voice was listless, an I-don't-care-what-happens-either-way statement.

The rusty aluminum chair squeaked when Janny sat down across from her friend. They were to the left of the hanging forty-watt light bulb that bathed both of them in a sickly off-yellow color. Maddie didn't look right, and it had nothing to do with the low wattage from overhead.

Janny watched as Maddie tried to curl herself in the chair, but the rotting weaving and rickety aluminum legs prevented comfort of any kind. Her stomach started to knot up, a sign that upheaval was eminent. She wanted to say something cheerful, something witty and brilliant, but what came out of her mouth was so unexpected she leaped off the chair and started to pace.

“Maddie, I have this feeling you're going to wipe out and leave me stranded. We need to pull together. I gave it all up. And you know what bothers me the most, the one thing I haven't been able to talk to you about because you are so ... intense about all of this. They're relaxing the child adoption laws, and one of the attorneys I spoke with from the company said it was more than possible I might be able to find my natural mother or she might be able to find me. It's not impossible, Maddie,” Janny said brokenly.

“I didn't say it was,” Maddie mumbled.

“Look at you! Just look at you!” Janny said, jabbing her hand in Maddie's direction. “You're withdrawing, I can see it, feel it. You don't want to deal with this anymore. Well, we have to deal with it. Going into this . . . damn program, I gave up the possibility of ever finding my mother or her finding me. So, what I'm saying here is, I gave up just as much as you did, and you don't see me ... wilting . . . and throwing in the towel.” She broke down and started to sob, expecting Maddie to offer the right words, give a comforting hug that would take away the loss she was feeling. When Maddie made no move to comfort her, Janny cried harder.

Maddie dozed in the chair while Janny continued to cry. She hadn't caved in, she'd gone along with everything Maddie said. Now what was going to happen to them? She risked a tearful glance at her friend. Maybe she should try Pete's number again. Maybe she should call Nester like Maddie suggested. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Janny looked at her watch. Ten-fifteen. Time to go to the bathroom. She inched herself off the lawn chair and made her way to the staircase that led to Mrs. Isaacson's kitchen. She was on the top step when she saw the blue flashing light of the sheriff's patrol car flash through the dotted Swiss curtains in the kitchen. A moment later she saw a round circle of light dance across the kitchen. She heard the doorknob rattle. She sucked in her breath and backed down another step. She listened, heard the top of the milk box crash down, heard heavy, booted steps as the sheriff climbed the stairs that led to her apartment. It was a good thing she hadn't gone into the bathroom. She'd be flushing by now, a sure giveaway to the sheriff, with the house's outdated plumbing.

When she thought she couldn't wait another moment, she heard the steps again, then the sound of the car's engine. The blue light flashed against the refrigerator. She waited another minute before she bolted for the bathroom. Flush or not flush? She flushed, washed her hands and dried them on her shorts, not wanting to disturb the whiteness of the unwrinkled towels hanging on the rack.

At the bottom of the steps she stared at the phone. Without hesitation she picked it up and dialed Pete's apartment. The phone was picked up after the third ring. “Is Pete there?”

“No he isn't. Can I take a message?”

Janny's eyes were glued to the second hand of her watch. “This is Janice Hobart. Where is Pete and when will he be home?”

“Janice! Good Lord. Where are you? Pete isn't here. He left early this morning and isn't back. Where are you?”

“We left the program. We're together. Maddie found me. I'll call again. Tell Pete to stay home and wait.”

“I'll tell him.”

Janice broke the connection in case the wire was bugged. A minute and a half. Safe.

Should she call Nester or shouldn't she? She drummed her fingers against the hard black plastic of the phone, trying to make up her mind. If this were a crime show, what would the star do? Janny dialed New York information and asked for the home phone number of Otis Nester. Thank God she remembered his first name. She was referred to the Staten Island area code and redialed. Luckily, it was listed. She repeated the number four times before she dialed it. A sleepy voice said Detective Nester was on duty. “Tell him . . . tell him Miss XYZ called,” Janny said dramatically before she broke the connection. Her fingers tapped furiously before she made up her mind to call the police precinct where Nester worked. She dialed again, said she was Adele Newcomb and needed to talk to Detective Nester on an urgent matter. The voice on the other end of the phone said the detective was about to go off duty. “Hold on, ma'am, I'll see if I can catch him for you.”