Unsafe Haven (17 page)

I had my Golden Boy. I needed nothing else.

She swung the Monet aside on hidden hinges, and spun the combination lock. The safe opened silently, and she reached inside for its contents, a lone, white envelope. The sealed edge had been slit open. She turned it over in her hands, paused, then took a deep breath and pulled out the single folded sheet.

Mr. Herington, I thought you might like to know where Victoria is. You can find her at The Last Outfitter Post in Staamat, Alaska.

No signature, no return address on the envelope. Just a postmark from someplace called Bethel. Evelyn knew next to nothing about Alaska, other than its vastness and sparse population. If someone wanted to hide forever, they could probably accomplish their goal quite successfully in Alaska. Conversely, if someone else wanted to reveal a hiding place, then nowhere on earth was truly safe.

In this case, the sender of this envelope had, in effect, screwed up, for they’d written to Conroy but had addressed it to Evelyn. Which told her someone in the wilds of Alaska had not only found Victoria, but also her personal papers.

Evelyn thoughtfully studied the letter for a few more seconds before opening her middle drawer, extracting a lighter, dropping the letter and its envelope into her heavy metal wastebasket, and setting fire to it. She smiled grimly as it burned.

Thank God I heeded Lloyd’s advice and used my address for everything.

She doused the ashes with the contents of her water bottle, then carried the wastebasket to the elegantly appointed bathroom and stuffed it into the biggest plastic trash bag she could find. She tied it off and set it by the door to dispose of when she left for lunch. A visit to Ikea would procure an identical wastebasket.

Her cell buzzed and she reached into an inner pocket, pulled it out and glanced at the display before bringing it to her ear. “Yes, Marilyn.”

“I have the information you requested, Mrs. Herington.” Her assistant rustled papers. “Miss Lancaster is awake and resting comfortably. Surgery performed on her crushed larynx was successful and gives her a seventy-three percent chance of regaining partial usage and speech. She is still listed in serious condition.” There was a pause. “I couldn’t obtain any additional information concerning her, uh, place of employment or her employer. I told the hospital administrative office to send the bills to you as per your direction.”

“Thank you, Marilyn. That’s all for now.” Evelyn rubbed her temples as a headache began brewing. “I’m in meetings until twelve, back in my office by two.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Evelyn folded her cell and re-pocketed it. A lock of her hair fell over her eyes, and she impatiently brushed it behind her ear, smoothing it into place. A quick pat of face powder eradicated the touch of perspiration that had formed above her lip while she’d dealt with Marilyn’s report. She regarded herself critically in the ornate wall mirror next to her louvered coat closet, taking due note of the new lines bracketing her mouth, the smudges under each eye. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

My penance, isn’t it? To lose sleep, agonize over the safety of young women I have yet to meet, to love and yet despise my only child so desperately.

She consulted her wristwatch, a slender Bulova
she’d purchased a few years ago. Five minutes until her meeting. She straightened the hem of her fitted jacket and brushed a single, long black hair off her sleeve. With a final once-over of the folders she’d require for her meeting, she tucked them under her arm and swept out the door, locking it securely behind her.

Three seconds later, she unlocked her door, grabbed the plastic bag containing her torched wastebasket and its soggy contents, and hid it in her coat closet.

Kendall pushed the station door open and rushed inside. “Jo? Where are you?”

“Back here.”

She ran into the narrow storeroom/evidence room. Most days, it boasted a kind of ruthless organization, every tiny item in its place. Today, half the contents of one bookshelf lay scattered over the floor.

Sitting in the middle of the mess, Jo held her stomach with one hand and waved with the other. “Hey, thanks for coming.” She giggled weakly.

Kendall threw up her hands. “How can you laugh at a time like this? Where’s Denn?”

“Rounds. Stop fussing, Kendall. It’s only water.” Jo struggled to straighten, and Kendall hurried to help her. She caught Jo around the shoulders, sank beside her and tugged until Jo leaned against her with a weary sigh.

“Jo, we have to get you to Clara Morgan.”

“Nope.” Jo flashed a smile. “Pet’s on the way. My sister,” she reminded Kendall. “She’s in New Mina, runs the birthing center there with her hubby, Bills. I called her right after I called you.” She pointed to the cell phone several feet away.

“It’s smashed.” Kendall poked it with her foot and scattered pieces of plastic across the floor.

“Yeah, the bookshelf kind of fell on it, about three seconds after I ended the call.” Jo sucked in a breath, held it, then released it with a whoosh. “Twenty minutes.”

“What? What?” Kendall’s eyes widened. “You mean labor pains? They’ve already started?” She jumped to her feet. “We have to get you out of here, Jo. We have to call Denn, Frank, somebody. Where’s Stevie?” In a panic, she caught hold of the remaining bookshelf.

“Don’t touch it—”

Jo’s caution came too late. A shelf packed with bound folders tipped and spilled its contents over Kendall. She shrieked and jumped, skidded on a pile of loosened file folders and fell on her backside . . . onto a pile of wet paper.

“Oh, yuck.” She squirmed as she tried to peel the soggy mush off her jeans.

Jo’s laughter, interspersed with moaning huffs, filled the room. “I—oww—told you so. Ouch!” She held her side as she gestured toward the unsteady bookshelf. “It’s old and needs to be replaced. I kind of forgot when I grabbed hold of it. Wasn’t expecting my damned water to break for another couple of weeks.”

Kendall rubbed her sore shoulder where the hard edge of a binder had gouged her. “Somebody needs to fix this. It’s dangerous. And we have to get you out of here, Jo.” She indicated the mess around her. “For God’s sake, your babies are on the way.”

“I know. Isn’t it great?” Jo’s expression reflected bliss. She sagged against a rolling cart wedged between the wall and an old Army surplus desk. Thankfully the cart had nowhere else to go. “I’m good, Kendall, honest. Pet should be here any minute and Denn’s due back in an hour. We’ll leave him a note. Frank’s still on the slope. Pet called him. He’ll catch the next plane out.”

Kendall crawled over to Jo and brushed the tangled hair from her eyes. She peered at her worriedly. “I think you’re hysterical. I’m calling Denn.” She patted her pockets. “Damn, I forgot. I don’t have a stupid cell phone.”

“Who doesn’t have a cell phone?” Jo huffed through another pain. “Fifteen minutes, thereabouts.” She winked when Kendall gaped at her. “I’ve done this before, remember? I can tell, even without a watch.”

“God.” Kendall rose to her knees, thought better of it and stayed put next to Jo. “I can’t leave you. Is there a phone in here?”

“Nope. Relax,
cheechako
. All is well.” Jo gave her a nudge.

“I’ve been here two months. I’m not a
cheechako
any longer,” Kendall groused.

“Well, you don’t know much about labor and delivery. So you’re a birthing
cheechako
.” Jo snickered at the groan Kendall released.

For perhaps thirty seconds they sat quietly before Jo piped up. “Hey, did I ever tell you about my mother? She once gave birth to quadruplets and went right back out on the ice with my dad. Caught a mess of dolly varden and then took them home to fry up.”

“Huh?” Kendall stared at Jo in disbelief. “Quads? As in four babies?”

Jo had opened her mouth to speak when she cocked her head and then grinned widely. “Pet!”

A face appeared around the open doorway, enough like Jo’s to be a twin. “For cripe’s sake, Jo, you still hauling out that old fib?” Her dark eyes twinkled. “You’re Kendall, right? I’m Pet. And it was twins. Our mom hated dolly varden, too. Wouldn’t be caught dead fishing for them.”

She extended a hand to Kendall and shook hers vigorously before she bent to Jo and caught her under the armpits, lifting her with ease. As Jo unsteadily gained her feet, she snuggled into Pet’s embrace, huge belly and all, and released a gusty sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here. Now, take me home and remove these demons from my uterus, okay?”

As soon as Denn pulled into his driveway, Luna tore out of the house and jumped onto the front seat. “We’re missing it. Hurry, Denn.”

“Why weren’t you over at Jo’s?” He backed out and gunned it, spewing gravel.

“Jo went to work today and told me to come over at three. Don’t be mad at her, okay? Ginny’s sick and you’d already left on rounds.”

“Crap.” He maneuvered around a double-parked Polaris Scrambler and made a mental note to find them later on and issue a nice fat ticket. “I’d have come back. And where the hell is Kendall? I drove out to check on her and the store’s closed.”

“She’s at Jo’s. She called me and told me to tell you. Which I’ve done,” Luna informed him loftily.

“We’ve got to get her a cell phone.” He took the corner of Dall Road too quickly, and Luna slid to the floor in a giggling heap.

“Put your seat belt on, you twit.”

“Kennie won’t use a cell phone. She hates them.” Luna fastened her belt. “I’m just gonna have to take it off again, in like two minutes.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the law. I could have you arrested, you know. And I don’t care if Kendall hates them. She needs one. For emergencies like this.” Denn screeched to a halt in the driveway of Jo’s cozy cabin.

Luna scrambled for the door, tossing over her shoulder, “It’s not her emergency, it’s Jo’s.”

“Oh, shut up.” He pushed her in front of him as they hurried up the walkway to the back door.

Inside, they found the usual organized chaos. Kids screeched and dogs barked. Jo’s cat, appropriately named Nermal, hissed at any moving target, as she crouched near the kitchen door. One of the dogs got too close to her front claws and yipped in pain when Nermal caught him in the snout. He scampered backward, tripped over his own oversized feet, and bumped into Luna.

“Poor little guy.” She scooped him up and soothed him as he bathed her face with a desperately grateful tongue. “Ick, his breath smells like fish guts.”

Jeffie walked into the kitchen with soiled towels in his hands, and cautioned, “Don’t let him kiss you. He just got done licking himself.” While Luna recoiled and wiped her mouth, Jeffie nodded to Denn. “Hi, Chief. Mom’s at two minutes apart. I gotta soak these.” He sidled past Denn and headed for the tiny laundry room tucked in one corner of the entryway.

Luna sighed after him. “He’s so cute. All the girls want him.”

Denn choked at her choice of words. “Want? Good Lord.” He snatched the dog out of her arms and set it on the floor, where it took off running, with the affronted Nermal giving chase. “This is a madhouse. And you don’t
ever
want a thirteen-year-old boy, you hear me? Luna?” He found himself talking to the back of her head as she ran for the hallway and the bedrooms beyond. Grumbling, Denn followed.

He could hear Kendall’s soothing tones and Jo’s giggling interspersed with her selection of choice curse words, and had to smile. Jo never cursed unless she had good reason. Dropping a matched set of baby Purnas definitely constituted a good reason. He stepped into the bedroom and found Kip sitting on the floor with camera in hand, aimed toward the bed and whatever action he could record for posterity. Denn shuddered at the thought as the ten-year-old grinned up at him.

“Kip, drop that camera and come get your brother,” Pet ordered. She knelt between Jo’s knees. Over Pet’s shoulder, Kendall held a fresh towel in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. She wore latex gloves and the widest smile of wonder he’d ever seen. Next to her, Cal stared raptly at his mother, almost crowding Pet in his eagerness to watch.

“Blast it, Cal . . .” Pet elbowed him. She called over her shoulder, “Kip, whenever you can spare the time.”

“Sorry.” Kip laid his camera on the nightstand and snagged his brother around the waist, dragging him away from the bed amidst indignant howls. “Come on, you don’t wanna see this. It’s gross.”

“How gross?” Cal demanded.

“Well, you know that scene in
Alien
when the little monster comes out of the guy’s chest and runs across the floor screaming?” At Cal’s frantic nod, Kip replied, “It’s like that, only messy.” He hooted as Cal squealed in disgust.

“Oh, God. Get them all out, I beg of you,” Jo beseeched between contractions and heavy breathing. “Look under the bed. One of them was down there laughing. Probably Lonnie.”

She grunted through another contraction, then bellowed, “Bax!”

“He took Lonnie to Fake’s for a soda,” Luna assured her. She sat close to Jo and held her hand. “Denn, shut the door.”

“In or out, Jo? I’ll stay if you want.” Denn hovered over Kendall’s shoulder, taking advantage of his position to drop a kiss on her neck. She uttered a soft sigh.

“In, as long as you stop molesting my nurse,” Pet ordered. She jerked her chin toward the other side of the bed. “Make yourself useful. Take Jo’s hand and let her squeeze hard, okay? We’re in the home stretch.”

He moved to Jo’s side and perched on the bed, offering his hand. “Here, honey.” She clamped his fingers tightly and he sucked in a sharp breath, but managed a reassuring smile. “How you doing?”

“Just ducky.” She huffed and moaned through a contraction. “Damn it! I want them
out,
Pet.”

“I’m working on it. Won’t be long, I’ve got a crowner.” Pet maneuvered into a better position. “Next contraction, you push hard, okay?”

A minute later, as the first baby slipped out, Jo mangled his hand and crushed Luna’s poor fingers, all while cursing a blue streak.

Denn leaned in and kissed Jo’s sweaty forehead. “Nice work, Mama,” he whispered. He met Kendall’s drenched eyes as she raised them from the squirming infant.

Her smile lit up the entire room.

Denn refilled Pet’s coffee cup, then his own. He gestured with the half-full carafe, and Kendall shook her head.

“No, thanks. I’ve had way too much today, already.” She fished in her pocket for a hair fastener and scraped her curls into a makeshift ponytail, fastening it with the stretchy elastic. “I can’t believe I let my hair hang in the way during Jo’s delivery. It can’t be good for newborns.”

“With all the fluid and afterbirth everywhere, a few stray hairs off a clean head were the least of our worries.” Pet drained her cup and handed it to Denn for a refill. “Damn, I’m pooped. That second kid was a bugger. I had a hell of a time trying to get at him. I was about ready to cut.”

Kendall blanched. “You can perform a Cesarean? In someone’s home?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Babies were born in hospitals, in nice, sterile delivery rooms. Not in cramped bedrooms with dogs and hissing cats and kids with cameras . . .

And it had been wonderful to experience
.

Pet shrugged as she dumped creamer and sugar into her cup. “You do what you have to do. Cal was Cesarean. I delivered him in that very same bed.” Soberly, she regarded Kendall. “How long have you been up here? A month? Two? You see these villages, how they struggle, right? I’m the closest thing some of them have to a doctor. I’ve had to operate more than once.”

She gestured toward the cavernous leather bag sitting on a kitchen chair. “I’ve got everything in there, including different kinds of numbing agents and even some anesthesia. You have to be prepared for anything.”

Pet gave Luna’s hair a tweak when she sat down next to her. “Hey, cutie. You get your fill of holding those little rug-rats?”

Luna sighed happily. “They’re so sweet. Jo wants me to come over in the mornings to help out.” She turned to Denn. “Can I? Jo will need me.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Ask Kendall. You work for her, remember?”

“Kennie, can I?” Luna dashed around the table and threw her arms around Kendall’s neck.

She cuddled Luna close, enjoying the girl’s uninhibited affection. “Of course you can. I’ll ask Jeffie to put in a few hours. I hear he’s trying to save some money for a new dirt bike. I don’t see why the two of you can’t take turns working at The Post, and helping out here.” She winked at Denn over Luna’s head.

He caught on quickly, she’d give him that. “Hey, good idea. You swap out with Jeffie. Kind of like ships passing in the night, huh? Morning and afternoon shift.” He nodded decisively as he set down his empty cup, and Kendall smothered her laughter at the crestfallen look on Luna’s face when she registered her brother’s words.

“You mean I won’t see him this summer? Not at all?”

“Well, no. Maybe during shift change.” Kendall managed a somber mien as she outlined Luna’s summer for her. “You’ll be with Jo and the babies from, say, six in the morning till lunch. Then you come to The Post in the afternoon, stay until, oh, five or six. We drive back together, and you can help me with dinner.”

“But—” Luna’s expression was pathetic in the extreme. Next to her, Denn turned a chuckle into a cough and busied himself with rinsing out coffee cups.

Kendall barreled on. “Just think of the fun you’ll have, first thing in the morning with those sweet little babies. You get to change their diapers and rock them, change some more diapers . . .”

“How many diapers?” Now Luna looked worried. Pet had long since given into the urge to laugh and escaped to the other room. Her guffaws could be heard all the way from the back of the cabin.