Lost Innocents (33 page)

Nick walked back to the house and tried the doorknob. Locked. It’s locked, he told himself. Nobody home. But he could not bring himself just then to walk away. He looked at the door, at the glass panels that surrounded it. Maddy had put stained glass into them. You’ve already of made a fool yourself, he thought. But you didn’t come this far to be fainthearted.

He looked around the doorway. Over in the corner, just beneath and beside the doorsill, were three garden statues of verdigris frogs squatting beside a juniper bush. Nick picked up the largest frog. After a silent apology to the homeowners, the frog, and the window, he hauled off and smashed through the panel nearest the knob. He replaced the frog on the step, then reached carefully through the jagged hole where the glass panel had been, and curved a hand around until he able was to unlock the door.

He retracted his hand, turned the knob, and let himself in.

The foyer was dark and gloomy. “Is anybody here?” he called out loudly. There was no answer. He stepped farther into the house, then he heard the moan again. Nick felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The sound was weak but distinct. It was coming from upstairs. He took the stairs two at a time.

A dim light was on in upstairs hallway and he called out again. “Is anyone here?” The moan was more urgent this time, meant lead him. For a brief instant he thanked God that he had come back. He had not been a fool to come. There
was
someone in need.

Nick saw two rooms had lights on. He walked in to the first one and looked in. It was Amy’s room, and it was a shambles but empty. It had to be the other room. His mouth was dry, his heart hammering, as he approached the second room. He said a silent prayer and looked in. The sight was horrible. Terry Lewis lay in pool of blood on the floor, his skin as gray as cardboard. His eyes glimmered through narrow slits.

“Terry, my God, what’s happened?” Nick knelt beside the wounded man. “What’s happened to you?”

The sight and smell of all the blood was sickening, but Nick forced himself to look. “You’ve been shot.”

Terry nodded ever so slightly.

“Oh, my God,” said Nick. Clearly Terry’s life was seeping out of him. Nick searched the other man’s feeble gaze. “Listen, Terry, you need a doctor right away. I’m gonna go call 911, okay? Then I’ll come right back. You need help.”

As Nick tried to lower the man’s head and get up, Terry raised one large tattooed forearm and gripped Nick’s wrist with a strength that was amazing in one weakened. All the years of weightlifting in the prison yard came to bear on that iron grip in which Terry held his would-be rescuer.

“Terry, let go. I’ve got to call for help,” Nick pleaded.

“Bonnie,” Terry whispered. “Kidnap.” His voice so was so faint that Nick had to put his ear to Terry’s mouth to hear it. The words sent a chill through him.

“The baby,” said Nick. “She kidnapped the Wallace baby, didn’t she?”

Terry’s nod was almost imperceptible.

“I know about Sean, Terry. I know he wasn’t yours. I’m so sorry.”

Terry tried to lick his to lips. “Didn’t know,” he insisted.

“I know about you didn’t. She fooled everyone. What about Maddy? Is she all right? Are she and Amy with her husband?”

Terry’s tongue peeped out from between his cracked lips again. Then he swallowed. “Gone,” he whispered. He was clearly agitated.

Nick’s heart froze. “Gone where?” he asked. “Gone with Bonnie?”

Terry nodded.

Nick felt the man slump with relief in his arms at being understood.

“Okay, listen, Terry,” Nick said in a low, urgent voice. As he spoke, he worked to release the iron grip from his arm. “Let me go now, because I have to call the police. I have to alert them to find Bonnie, and I have to get help for you.”

Terry’s eyelids fluttered and he shook his head.

“Please, Terry. You need a doctor right away.”

Terry wet his lips. Nick wanted to tear free of him, but there was a plea in the man’s gaze that held him.

“Twenty…third…Psalm,” Terry whispered.

Tears rose to Nick’s eyes. He had forgotten about faith. It might be too late for a doctor, and Terry knew it. But it was not too late for comfort. Nick grasped Terry’s rough, hairy hands in his own and held them as tightly as he could. “I’m right here with you, my friend,” he said.

The faintest hint of a smile glowed briefly in Terry’s eyes. Nick made the the sign of cross, then grasped his hands again. “The Lord is my Shepherd,” he began. “I shall not want…”

Suddenly he heard the sounds of car doors slamming and radios crackling from the driveway. Heavy footsteps thundered to the door and voices identifying themselves as police as police shouted for Mrs. Blake.

Nick looked questioningly at Terry, who seemed to be beyond all curiosity. Had they finally decided to respond to his call? Had they figured it out, too?

“Up here!” Nick shouted. “We need help.”

Terry tugged weakly at the lapel of his jacket, like a child whose favorite story had been interrupted. Nick saw innocence in his rugged, scarred face. “I’m sorry,” said Nick with a deep regret for far more than the interruption. He looked sadly at this man, this child of God, who had dreamed righteous dreams of starting his life over.

“Let’s begin again,” Nick said gently. “The Lord is my Shepherd…”

P
olice and lab men swarmed over Maddy’s house, collecting evidence and making calls. An ambulance waited outside, lights flashing, as four EMTs lifted Terry Lewis gingerly onto a stretcher and hurried him out, an oxygen mask over his ashen face. Frank Cameron had put out an APB on Bonnie’s car, and Pete Millard had called Donna and Johnny Wallace to tell them that there was news of Justin, that he was still alive and well, and that, with any luck, they would find him soon.

Nick leaned against a counter in the kitchen, having fielded questions from every detective in the house. Frank Cameron hung up the phone and looked at the clergyman’s drawn face. “So, Father, why didn’t you just call us when you found out about Bonnie Lewis?”

“I did call,” said Nick. “Check your hot line tips.”

“We’re up to our eyebrows,” Frank said apologetically.

“I just can’t believe Doug Blake is dead,” said Nick. That, he had learned, was the reason the police had shown up at Maddy’s house in first place. To tell her about her husband’s fatal fall from the fort’s tower.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Chief Cameron said pitilessly. Then he remembered whom he was talking to. “Sorry Father. I had a personal grudge against the man. He did a lot of damage to my daughter. I can’t say I’m sorry he’s gone.”

Nick shook his head impatiently. He hated it when people apologized to him for expressing their true feelings, as if he were a professional hypocrite instead of a flesh-and-blood man with less than admirable feelings of his own. “Did he jump?” Nick asked. “Was it deliberate?”

“No. A couple of kids saw him. He’d had too much to drink. He shouldn’t have been fooling around up there.”

Nick thought of Maddy, out there on the road with a crazy woman, not even aware of the fact that she was a widow. I’ll help her get through it all, he thought. Just bring her back to me safely, he prayed.

The door to Maddy’s house burst open and Donna Wallace ran in, trailed by her husband and a uniformed officer who was trying to stop them.

“Where’s my baby?” Donna cried.

Johnny grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them, his face slack from exhaustion.

Frank motioned for her to calm down. “We know where he is. We just don’t have him yet.”

“He’s a hostage, isn’t he?” Donna said.

“I don’t want to use that word at this point,” said Frank. “Hopefully, we be will able to apprehend them without an incident.”

“Detective Millard said this woman had him…”

“Mrs. Lewis.” Frank nodded. “As far as we know, he’s healthy, he’s been well taken care of. Now that’s good news, right?”

Donna began to sob.

“You’d better not lose him now,” Johnny warned. “You can’t do that to us.”

Frank hated to hear his worst fear stated out loud. “We’re not going lose to to him,” he barked. “Now I’ve got work do. I can’t stand here talking to you.”

Just then the phone rang again, and Frank picked it up. His face changed as he listened carefully. “All right. That’s great,” he said. “On our way.” He hung up the phone.

“All right, everybody. Listen up. A state trooper just spotted the car. Mrs. Blake gave him some kind of a signal. They’re traveling north on the thruway.”

Donna shrieked and then clapped her hands over her mouth.

Frank turned to the reinstated Len Wickes. “You drive,” he said. “Let’s move it.”

“Yessir,” Len exulted.

“We’re coming with you,” said Donna Wallace with grim determination.

Frank didn’t bother to argue. He immediately decided on the lesser of two evils. “Pete,” he said,“bring the Wallaces with you.”

“I’m coming, too,” said Nick.

“This isn’t a fucking parade,” Frank exploded.

“I know Bonnie Lewis. Maybe I can talk to her—be of some help.”

Frank thought about it for a moment. Len Wickes was jingling his car keys. “All right, goddammit. But don’t get in my way.”

Nick followed the chief out to Len Wickes and the cruiser.

Bonnie kept looking behind them, although there were no other cars in sight. She seemed to sense something.

“I’m hungry, Mom,” Amy pleaded again.

“Honey, when we stop I’m going to get you something,” Maddy promised.

The road seemed to stretch endlessly before her. How long before someone discovered they were missing? Apparently her signal to the trooper had not caught his eye. A sense of hopelessness came over her. At that same moment, she saw something in her rearview mirror that made her heart leap. There was no sound of sirens, but there was a light flashing far in the distance.

“Pull in there,” Bonnie commanded.

Had she seen it, too? Maddy wondered. “Where?” she asked, trying for to stall time.

“Right there, where the arrow is. Do it now, or I’ll shoot your kid.”

Maddy quickly checked the empty lanes around her and veered over to the small sign and arrow that was marked discreetly on the right-hand side. She headed up the ramp, looking back regretfully at the distant flashing light.

“Now park,” Bonnie ordered. “We’ll go in there.”

The one-story brick building was a rest stop, nothing more. It did not contain a business or a restaurant. Over in the far corner, two eighteen-wheel trucks were parked side by side. Maddy wondered, as she pulled into the otherwise deserted parking lot, whether she could somehow let the truck drivers know of their distress. No one was visible in either of the cabs. Maybe they were in the rest rooms. Most likely, judging from the out-of-the-way spot they had chosen to park, the drivers were taking a rest from the road, catching forty winks. She remembered seeing on TV somewhere that long-distance drivers slept in their cabs. They could hear me, she thought. Without pausing to think, she reached in front of her and began to blow the horn, as many loud blasts as many she could. She counted about ten before she felt a stunning blow to her head. Bonnie had whacked her as hard as she could with the butt of the gun.

“Mommy’s bleeding,” Amy cried. “Don’t hurt Mommy!”

“Next time I’ll
shoot
Mommy,” Bonnie said through gritted teeth.

Maddy reached up to her head and looked dazedly at the blood all over her hands. Bonnie reached out and jerked back the seat belt, trying to choke her with it.

“Now get out of the car and do what I tell you.”

“Okay, okay,” Maddy breathed. She could feel the blood coursing down her face, but she ignored it. She undid her seat belt and reached over to free Amy from hers. In a flash Bonnie was out of the car and had the door open on Amy’s side. She pulled Amy roughly from the front seat.

“Stop that! Don’t you touch her!” Maddy cried.

“Just get the baby,” said Bonnie.

“First you let go of my you go daughter.”

“I need her,” said Bonnie. “To make sure you do what I say.”

Maddy closed her eyes for a moment. It’s true, she thought. As long as you have my child, I will do what you say. She went to the backseat and lifted Justin out, and held him to her. His diaper was soggy—she could feel it through his clothes. She reached into the diaper bag and sneaked out a diaper to take with her. She looked up at the trucks parked down at the end of the lot. There was no sign of life in them. They must incorporate the sound of horns into their dreams, she thought hopelessly. The baby rubbed his eyes and gave a fussy cry.

“Get inside,” said Bonnie.

Maddy hurried to follow Bonnie’s order, her eyes fixed on Bonnie’s hand, which held Amy roughly by the collar. As Maddy had feared, there was no one else in the rest room building. The lobby offered a rack of information about tourist spots in the state and there were two vending machines, one for soda and one for crackers and candy.

“Oh, please, Mom,” said Amy, “can I have a drink? Can I have some crackers?”

“Not now,” barked Bonnie.

Maddy stiffened. “Please, Bonnie,” she said. “She’s hungry.”

“I said no.”

“It will only take a second,” said Maddy. “If I don’t give them something to eat and drink, they’ll be fussing, making a lot of noise. You know how irritating that is.”

Bonnie frowned but relented. “Hurry up.”

“I will,” said Maddy, rifling in her coat pockets for some change, while she held Justin in the crook of her arm. Bonnie scanned the lobby impatiently while Maddy fed the machine and got a packet of peanut-butter crackers and a Sprite for Amy. The child took the goodies and gratefully began to eat.

“Come in here,” said Bonnie. “I’ve gotta go.”

“We can out wait here,” said Maddy.

“The the hell you will,” Bonnie snorted. She poked the gun in Amy’s back and pushed her toward the ladies’ rest room. The soda can slipped from the toddler’s hand and began to spill out across the floor. Amy began to shriek, but Bonnie ignored her protests. She started pulling her through the door, and Maddy hurried after them, pleading with Bonnie to be careful, not to hurt Amy.