Weep In The Night (28 page)

It took Sadie a couple of seconds to figure out who the woman was. She'd forgotten about WITSEC. “What's going to happen now?”

“We'll talk in detail later. Just wanted to make contact.”

Sadie kept an eye on the nurse taking Hannah's pulse.

“I won't stay long, but when you're ready to leave, give me a call.” Elia removed a business card from her shirt pocket. “Here's my direct number.”

“I do have one question.”

“What is it?”

Sadie indicated they step away from Hannah's bed. “Now that Lonnie and Nicole are in custody, do I still have to be in the program?”

“No decisions have been made yet, but from what I know, it looks like you'll be free. The evidence from tonight's little shindig will probably lock them up for a long time. There's no Levasseur crime family to worry about, and from what the FBI shared with us, Lonnie's staff is not exactly itching to go to jail on his behalf. “

Despite being in the ER with her drugged daughter, relief lightened Sadie's mood. “It's nothing personal, but I can't wait.”

Elia pivoted and said over her shoulder, “Give me a call.”

An hour later, Dr. Obregon returned. “We have the test results. Hannah ingested enough medication to sedate her for a number of hours. But we've begun the treatment in time, and she is responding. I want to admit her tonight so we can continue to assess her condition for the next twenty-four hours. If her oxygenation status and vitals are satisfactory you should be able to take her home late tomorrow or the next day.” With a nod, he left the cubicle.

Her thoughts veered from Hannah to Bowen. Had he also been brought here?

After a long while, Hannah was taken to a room. Sadie pulled a chair right up to the bed and watched her daughter.

Every so often, Hannah stirred. Her lids fluttered, and she opened her eyes for a second. But she continued to sleep peacefully. Her breathing seemed normal and the color had returned to her skin.

Sadie shrugged off her jacket and removed the flack vest. She unbuttoned her shirt and realized why her upper chest ached. The shot had left a large, round bruise, extremely tender to the touch. She buttoned up again and took Hannah's hand, now warm and dry.

Words of gratitude blossomed and overwhelmed her. She trusted the Holy Spirit would do as the Bible promised and transport her thoughts to the Father.

Resting her head near Hannah's knees, she closed her eyes. The night played over and over in her head like obnoxious summer reruns. Although she had her baby back, a wound still pieced her heart. Where was Bowen? Last she heard he needed surgery to repair his arm. When Hannah woke up, she'd contact Erik and find out about him, but right now, she had to wait for her baby to regain consciousness.

 

****

 

“Sadie, I have news.” Erik whispered in her ear.

She jerked awake and blinked unwanted dreams away. Releasing Hannah's hand, Sadie stood and stretched. “Hi, Erik. Let's step outside.”

In the hall, Erik propped himself up against the wall. His gray eyes, underlined with strain and fatigue, held her gaze. “Came to report on Bowen.”

Her stomach sunk on the elevator of fear. “Is he all right?”

“Yes. They repaired his shoulder—the bullet went straight through. His vest prevented the other slug from doing damage. His gut will be tender for a while.” Yawning, Erik slid down the wall.

Sympathy tightened her throat and Sadie joined Erik on the floor. “Where is he?”

“Here. He's lost a lot of blood. By the way, we're all donating in his name. Can you?”

“Sure. When Hannah's awake. After I've had a chance to explain what's happened, and I have someone to stay with her. I can't leave her right now.”

“Understand. I'll check on Bowen again and then come back.”

“You're one of the few I'd trust with Hannah.” Sadie took his arm and snuggled next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

They sat there a while in silence. When Erik stood, he yawned again. “Better check on my buddy. I'll keep you posted.”

He helped Sadie stand and wrapped his long arms around her.

“Thanks for stopping by. I was worried about him.”

With a nod, Erik tromped down the hall.

Sadie returned to Hannah's bedside. No change. She settled in the chair and folded her arms. So much had transpired in the last few hours she could barely wrap her mind around the details. At least Hannah was safe, and Bowen…did she have to say good-bye to him?

She'd threatened never to see him again once she had Hannah safe, but why? He claimed his affection for her was no lie. Could she believe him? A glimmer of hope tickled her heartstrings. He had shown that he considered her more than a job. Was it time for her to lower the drawbridge of her heart and destroy it forever? Why not give love another chance? When Hannah awoke, she'd visit Bowen.

Content with her plan, Sadie took her daughter's small hand, and in a soft, soothing voice sang the song Aaron had written for her. Over and over she repeated the sweet words until her own lids drooped and her head rested on the bed again.

Every time nurses checked on Hannah, Sadie awoke. Her intermittent sleep left her with bleary vision and a headache. At dawn she eased out of the chair and rolled her shoulders. In the small bathroom, she fixed her hair and dabbed at her face with a damp towel.

A murmur in the room startled her. Was Hannah awake? Sadie opened the bathroom door. Hannah's little body stirred under the covers. At her bedside, she hesitated to take her child's hand again. What if she awoke and screamed at the stranger beside her bed?

Hannah's eyelids fluttered. She raised her thin hand and wiped her hair off her cheek. Her eyes opened, and she stared around the room. She plucked at the I.V. inserted in her arm.

Sadie gently removed her hand. “It's all right, sweetie pie.” Would Hannah remember this pet name? “You're in a hospital, and that tube is giving you medicine.”

“Who are you?”

What could she say?
Sing Aaron's song.
“We love Hannah, yes we do. She loves her Mom and Daddy, too. Hair and eyes of chocolate brown. Our little princess wears a crown.”

Hannah's frown deepened. Her mouth quivered. “I know that song.” She blinked and blinked, and then swiped one hand across her eyes. “Why are you singing that song?”

Leaning close, Sadie took her hand. “We used to sing it to you every night.”

“You look like my mommy. My real mommy.” Her voice tapered off and she gave a half sob. “My real name is Hannah.” The words were a mere whisper.

“I am your real mommy, sweetie pie.” Sadie answered. “And yes, your real name is Hannah.”

With a gasp, Hannah jerked her hand away and covered her eyes. “Where have you been?”

How much more could her heart take before it shattered in pieces? “I've been looking for you.”

“Do…do you want me now?”

“I've always wanted you. What do you mean?” Sadie sank into the chair.

The little head moved on the pillow. Dark, questioning eyes examined Sadie's face. “Mama Evelyn said I had to stay with her because after my daddy died, my real mommy didn't want me anymore.”

 

 

 

 

38

 

Bowen shivered. He tried to tug the covers around his shoulders, but his arm didn't cooperate. He opened his eyes. His blurred vision slowly cleared. Hospital. Surgery. No wonder he couldn't get the sheet—his right arm was immobile, bandaged to his chest.

Propped against the pillows, he assessed his situation. Arm operated on, but whole. Bruised area just below his ribs. That would heal. So far, his life appeared to be back on track. So why did he have a niggling ache, like someone prodded a sore spot in his brain?

A nurse bustled in.

“Good morning, Mr. Boudine. My name's Robin. How you doing?” She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his left bicep and then thrust a thermometer into his mouth. “Under your tongue, please.”

The cuff tightened. Relaxed slowly. The machine beeped results.

Robin removed the cuff and the thermometer. “Blood pressure is a little high. Temp is normal.” After scribbling notes on a little pad, she checked his bandage. “The surgeon will come by later this morning. Need anything? Hungry?”

“No. Yes. When can I get out of here?”

“Ask the doctor. On a scale of one to ten, how's your pain right now?”

Closing his eyes, Bowen shrugged. “OK, but I'm cold.”

Another cover dropped over his body, but he didn't open his eyes. Where was a good cup of hot coffee when he needed it?

He drifted off to sleep again and woke to find Erik dozing in the chair. The guy could sleep anywhere.

Erik's eyes snapped open as soon as Bowen stirred. “Hey, friend, how you feeling?”

“OK, I guess. Want to go home.”

Covering a yawn, Erik rolled his shoulders. “No need to hurry.”

“Why don't you get some rest? You don't look too good.”

“Speak for yourself, buddy. Just came to check on you and tell you about Sadie.”

Bowen didn't want to think about her. Now that she had Hannah, she didn't need him in her life. She'd made it abundantly clear. But he had to ask. “Where is she?”

“Second floor. Room 267. I checked on them before coming here. She wants to see you.”

“No. Tell her not to come. Please.” How could he be in her company and not long for something more?

“You're back to your usual pigheaded self. Good. After I chat with your nurse, I'll go home. See you later.”

Although Erik's words sounded harsh, Bowen sensed his compassion. How many hours had he been sitting by his bedside? Only a friend would do that.

Rattling carts moved up and down the hall. Breakfast. Nausea visited his stomach at the very idea of food. Another round of vitals left Bowen longing for the peace and quiet of his own bedroom. He'd almost fallen asleep again when a doctor wearing an oversized lab coat bustled into the room.

The petite, dark-skinned woman, no bigger than his thirteen-year-old niece, gave him a big smile. “Good morning, Mr. Boudine. I'm Doctor Loudermilk. Let's see how your arm is doing.” Wire-rimmed glasses set on her dainty nose, she drew the covers off his torso and ran her hand over the bandaged area. “No swelling. Good. The exit wound resulted in a lot of damaged tissue which I had to remove. You're a lucky guy. A couple of centimeters to the left and the bullet would have shattered the bone. You should regain complete use of your arm.”

“
Should
regain complete use?”

“I wish I could be more specific, Mr. Boudine. But for now, your body needs time to heal.” She slipped her glasses into her pocket and glided to the foot of the bed. “Any questions?”

“When can I go home?”

“We'll reevaluate your situation tomorrow. The human body is a remarkable machine. You need to rest. Is that clear?”

He nodded, but none of it was OK. What if he lost the use of his arm?

“Later the staff will get you up. I'll see you tomorrow.” Dr. Loudermilk nodded and exited the room.

Robin, who'd been hovering in the background, tucked the covers around Bowen's torso. “Ring if you need anything, Mr. Boudine.”

Left alone at last, Bowen stared at the wall. What would he do if he couldn't work for IRO? Without the job he enjoyed and the woman he loved, what would happen? Would his lies deprive him of happiness with her?

A muscle spasm shifted his focus to his right arm. With effort, he moved his index finger, sending a welcome twinge up his arm. He tried again. Definite movement. He closed his eyes. “Thank You, God.”

Grabbing the bed rail, he sucked in a breath. Pain shot through his bicep. The short prayer had prodded the tender spot in his brain. The flack vest might have saved his body. But what would it take to rescue his soul?

 

 

 

 

39

 

Catching up on three lost years of Hannah's life thrilled Sadie. In between short naps, her daughter chatted about school, friends, and Evelyn. Sadie didn't care. Right now, she just needed to reconnect. The latest blood test showed that the drug had almost vacated Hannah's body. She could be discharged from the hospital the next day.

While Hannah lounged in bed watching cartoons on TV, a steady stream of officials debriefed Sadie. The LAPD, the FBI, and WITSEC had called on her at different times, conducting their interviews in the hospital wing's staff kitchen for privacy. They understood her need to be near Hannah, and agreed she could make formal statements sometime later.

She worried about Bowen but didn't want to leave her daughter's side.

When Elia Valdez visited, a counselor came with her.

Cuddly and rosy-cheeked, Mary Irving's soft hazel eyes twinkled as she greeted Hannah. “Hello, young lady. I want to talk to you. Will that be all right?”

Hannah glanced at Sadie, brown eyes seeking direction.

The tiny action sent Sadie's heart fluttering. She nodded. “It's all right, sweetie pie. Mary's here to help us.”

Mary asked a series of general questions, establishing rapport, and then motioned for Sadie to step into the hall.

Elia produced a box of crayons and a coloring book, eliciting squeals from Hannah.

“Mrs. Malone, what is your assessment of Hannah's emotional state at this point?”

“To be honest, I'm surprised and relieved. When Hannah regained consciousness, she recognized me——you don't know how I'd dreaded that moment.” Sadie's throat tightened. “Anyway, she asked if I wanted her. Apparently, Evelyn told her I didn't want her because her daddy was dead. That worries me. But so far, Hannah appears to be a normal, happy, well-adjusted child. I've not seen or heard anything else from her that concerns me, and I've been watching.”