Desperate Measures (36 page)

Maddie's face turned ugly. “I requested a meeting, a face-to-face, because that's my right. Obviously, he turned the request down. He's not going to screw up his life. That's love all right. Who needs him?”

Her voice was so bitter, Janny cringed. “Does all this have something to do with Annie Gabriel?”

“Of course. They're probably exchanging presents as we speak. They're curled up in front of the fireplace drinking fine wine. They might even go to bed together. How do I know what's going on?”

“I'd say your imagination is pretty vivid.”

“Well, what would you think?”

“I think I would give them both the benefit of the doubt. You are turning into a very hateful person, Maddie.”

“Justifiably so,” Maddie shot back. “I wonder if he went through with the deal on the Stamford house. What do you think, Janny?”

“I think he backed out because it would remind him too much of you. Is that what you want to hear?”

“I asked you what you thought. That means you personally. It's your turn to throw another log on the fire.”

Janny felt like screaming. “It's always my turn. Starting tomorrow I'm going to start keeping track of
my turns
at everything. You are so damn lazy, Maddie. I answered your question. If you don't like my answer, then that's your problem. Another thing, I'm sick and tired of coddling you, deferring to you, listening to you bitch and moan, and I'm not going to put up with it. I'm doing everything I can to make the best of a bad situation. I don't need to hear you making it worse on an hourly basis.”

“Janny, I'm sorry. I ... I can't reconcile . . . I love Pete. You don't know what it's like. You've never been in love.”

“That's it! That's it!” Janny said getting up. She ran to the coatrack by the front door. “I'm going out to the bunkhouse and ... and well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but at least I won't have to listen to you. For the record, Miss Madelyn Stern, a.k.a. Olive Parsons, I was in love once, and I know exactly how it feels, and I even know how you're hurting because I hurt the same way when he dumped me for someone nineteen years old with silicone implants. If you decide to have a nervous breakdown, do it when I'm not around. Merry Christmas, Maddie.”

“Janny, don't go. I'm sorry. It's the holiday . . . it's everything.”

An artic burst of air whipped through the room when Janny opened the door. It swirled around Maddie. “You didn't put the log on the fire,” Maddie shrilled.

“Ask me if I care!” Janny shot back. “If you want to talk about slaves, I've been yours since we got here. Start doing for yourself. You can make the bread in the morning too. I did it the last two days.” The door closed with a bang.

Maddie curled into her heavy quilt. “Merry Christmas, Maddie,” she whimpered.

Pete stood at the entrance to 600 Army Navy Drive, his
thoughts in a turmoil. Nothing seemed changed since he was here a year ago. If things hadn't gone awry, he would have celebrated his first wedding anniversary a few weeks ago.

What the hell was he doing here? Why had he come back here to talk to the marshals? He knew what they were going to say, so why was he tormenting himself? Hell, they might even boot his ass out the door.

He was a man with a purpose when he identified himself, stated his business, and said, “I'm not taking no for an answer. Either you people talk to me or I'm going to the newspapers. Furthermore, I have a letter here I want sent to Miss Stern. And I damn well want a reply.”

The marshal Pete spoke to was as tall as he was, middle-aged, with a lot of gray in his hair. Formidable. Pro ball in his prime, Pete thought. He worked out, had just the right amount of suntan. He also had the sharpest, keenest eyes he'd ever seen. Pete extended his hand in a bone-crushing grip. The marshal didn't flinch. If anything, he was amused.

“Sandor Neville,” the marshal said. “Call me Sandy.”

He didn't look like someone named Sandy, he looked like his name should be Duke or Chuck.

Pete's belligerence spilled over. This guy knew where Maddie was or knew someone who knew where she was located. His eyes narrowed. “Look, it's been a year, and I've had no word from Maddie. You will never convince me she doesn't want an arranged meeting or that she won't write to me. I believe in my gut that people are keeping us separated, that you aren't cooperating. I've read everything there is to read about your program, and it says you people can arrange a face-to-face meeting and you forward mail. I want to know why that hasn't been done.”

“Who told you it hasn't been done?” Neville asked curiously. He sounded like he was discussing the weather.

“I'm not a fool. No one has contacted me. I haven't had any mail and ... what else do I need in the way of proof?” Pete said angrily.

Neville shrugged. “What exactly do you want?”

“I want you to arrange a telephone call or a face-to-face meeting. Don't give me any crap that it can't be done. I've researched this up the kazoo. I want this letter forwarded,” Pete said, extending a long white envelope. “I expect a response.”

“I'll pass the information along. That's all I can do.”

“That's what your people said last time. And here I am, one year later, almost to the day,” Pete said bitterly.

“Has it occurred to you, Mr. Sorenson, that Miss Stern doesn't want any communication with you?”

“Yes it has occurred to me, but I want to hear her say so, and I want to know the reason. Is that so hard for you to understand?”

“Not at all, Mr. Sorenson. As I said, I'll pass it along.”

“Well, here's something else for you to pass along. Either you people get back to me in a few days or I'm going to every single newspaper in New York and Washington, D.C. It's not a threat, it's a goddamn promise. Now, what I want to know before I leave here is, when will you get back to me? I want a date and time.”

“At this moment I can't give you a date and a time. I will, however, call you as soon as possible. Give me a number.”

“Be sure,” Pete said, scribbling the telephone number for Fairy Tales on a slip of paper, “that you tell those people you're going to talk with that I mean exactly what I said.”

“You need to understand, Mr. Sorenson, you could be endangering Miss Stern's life by doing what you suggest.”

“I'll take that chance. Maddie would want it this way. I know her. There's something funny going on here. If I find out, when this case comes to trial, that you people are not giving her my messages or giving me messages from her, the shit is going to hit the fan, and I don't care what it does to this organization. Enough is enough. You people have ruined my life. Maddie's too.”

“You look hale and healthy, Mr. Sorenson. I'm not disputing that your ego and your heart may be bruised, but you cannot categorically state that we have ruined Miss Stern's life.”

Pete stormed out of the office rather than venting his fury at the marshal's cool response.

Three days later, after two preliminary calls, Pete was advised that Maddie would speak with him at six-thirty Eastern Time at the Fairy Tales number.

Pete arrived at the store during the tail end of the Labor Day sale. He watched in amazement as merchandise literally flew off the shelves. Annie was good with the customers, smiling, going out of her way to check stock, promising to order and reorder. She kept meticulous records, he noticed. The store sparkled with enthusiasm. Maddie was going to be so pleased. He wondered if she still needed Fairy Tales, or if she was disgusted with it, the way she was with him.

The store was closed and empty when the phone rang at precisely six-thirty. The receiver was clamped to Pete's ear after the first ring. His voice was so gruff and hoarse, he didn't recognize it as his own. He could hear Maddie crying on the other end of the line.

“Pete, is it really you?”

“Jesus, Maddie, I can't believe I'm talking to you. Did you get my letter?”

“Not yet. They told me it takes time for it to be routed . . . to ... however they do it. How's Fairy Tales doing, Pete?”

“Fantastic. How are you, Maddie? God, I miss you!”

“I'm fine. Well, I'm alive, safe and well. Did you get the house in Stamford? I've been trying to imagine you living in it. What did you do about your apartment?”

“I sublet the apartment to Annie, and I didn't get the house in Stamford.”

“Oh ...”

“I would have agonized in it. . . . I did get another one in Darien, though. It's closer and . . . it's on a lake. It's on a wooded lot. I think you'll like it. I miss you, Maddie. Listen, I did everything I could think of. I'm sorry I wasn't at the apartment when you called. I was out trying to find you. I guess that sounds pretty ridiculous since no one has ever penetrated the program. You need to believe I did everything I could think of. Do you have any news of the trial?”

“No. It's going to be a while yet. Janny is with me. We fight all the time,” Maddie said, choking back a sob.

“I'm sorry, Maddie. You were closer than sisters. Don't let this awful thing come between you.”

“Pete, they said I could ask you if you want to ... join me. Do you?”

Here it was, the question he'd been dreading. Did he want to or didn't he? “I can't, Maddie. I want to, but I can't. I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes. When this is over, we'll make a life together, better than the one we used to talk about. I want to hear you tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Maddie said flatly.

“No, I don't think you do. I'm in the middle of a monster deal. It's going to take me at least another eight to ten months to wind it down. There's Fairy Tales to think about. All of that is almost incidental to the real reason I can't join you. Leo is in the hospital. He's had a serious heart attack. They tell me he'll recover. We more or less patched up our differences. I can't leave him to go into hiding.”

“That sounds to me like everything is more important than I am.”

“No, Maddie. It's a question of priorities. I know you're alive and safe, and I thank God for that. Leo needs my help. Annie needs me for Fairy Tales. I have a business. Leo has a business. I'm being stretched too thin. I'm committed, Maddie.”

“I thought you committed to me, Pete.”

“I did. I am. Maddie, did you hear what I said?”

“I dreamed about this phone call, prayed daily that I would get to hear your voice again, and now all that I prayed for is ... why did we even bother with this call?”

“Because I love you,” Pete said. “People are separated all the time for different reasons. Men go to war and women wait for them to come home. This is something like that. I'll be here for you, Maddie, no matter what. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. My time is almost up. I knew you wouldn't agree to come and be with me. I knew it.”

“Maddie, do you still love me?”

“I thought I did . . . I don't know anymore. You should have been there for me, Pete,” she howled tearfully. “They took everything away from me. Now you're telling me you gave up the Stamford house, and Leo, an uncle you professed to hate, is suddenly more important than I am. Your business deals come first. What am I supposed to think?”

“I can't tell you what to think. All I can ask is that you try and understand. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to return. We have the rest of our lives.”

“You're a fool, Pete. I could be ... it could take forever. Didn't anyone tell you that?” Maddie shrilled. “Don't tell me to think positive either. There is not one damn thing about my life that's positive. I might as well be dead. Do you hear me, Pete, I might as well be dead!”

“Jesus, Maddie, stop talking like that. Listen to me, ask . . . ask for a counselor. You need to talk . . . Maddie, are you listening to me?”

“You think a counselor is going to help me? Well, you're wrong. Nothing is going to help me. I want my life, I want yesterday. You all robbed me of my life, and yes, I'm blaming you too. I have to hang up now. Don't ask them to put through a call again, Pete.”

Pete stared at the phone receiver in his hand. The dial tone was the only sound in the quiet shop. His eyes were wild when Annie tried to pry the receiver out of his hand. “Easy, Pete, take deep breaths. We'll talk about this. But not here. I promised you dinner and a good stiff drink. Let's go.”

“Where?” Pete said stupidly. That wasn't the Maddie he knew and loved.

“Follow me,” she said, taking his arm. “We aren't going to talk about this until we have a drink in front of us. Pete, snap out of it. It's not the end of the world.”

Pete made an awful sound in his throat. Annie's grip on his arm tightened. “When did Leo go into the hospital?”

“Last night. I spent the night and almost all of today at the hospital. I think he's going to be okay. You should have seen the look on his face when I told him I would stay. I felt . . . I felt . . . it was like when my parents died . . . that awful, sick feeling because you don't know what happens next.”

“You did the right thing, Pete. Family is very important. Leo is all you have left. You patched up your differences. You can't cast all that aside.”

A few minutes later Annie guided him through the open doorway of a restaurant called Samantha's. She pointed to a back booth. The hostess led the way to the rear of the long, narrow restaurant.

“Two double bourbons on the rocks,” Annie said. She held out her pack of cigarettes. Pete took one, lit up and drew deeply. “Relax. When you're ready to talk, I'm here to listen.”

Annie was on her second cigarette, her glass almost empty, when Pete said, “She didn't even ask how I was.” Annie winced at the pain in her friend's face. “I can't believe the person I spoke to was Maddie. She sounded so ... selfish . . . so ... was I wrong about her, Annie? No, don't answer that.”

“Start at the beginning, Pete.”

Pete ran the entire conversation through his mind before he shared it with Annie. He stared across the table, his face clearly expecting some magical words from Annie that would make things right.

“Pete, you have to understand what's she's going through. I don't know if I could handle what she's going through, and neither do you. Maddie's thinking is all mixed up. Of course she wants yesterday. Yesterday means you. Suggesting a counselor was a good idea. When she gets your letter, I bet she requests another phone call.”

“Do you think so?” Pete asked flatly.

Annie didn't think so, but she lied and said, “How could she not want to talk to you? She loves you.”

“She wants yesterday. She said everything was taken away from her. She didn't understand about the Stamford house. I could hear the anger in her voice. Maybe she was hanging on to that. You know, we were going to live there and be happy.”

“Do you believe that, Pete?”

“No,” Pete said miserably. “I don't think Maddie liked the house that much. She tried to get excited about it for me. She's a city girl. A house is responsibility, and Maddie . . . I don't know, Annie, I'm second-guessing her and probably coming up with all the wrong answers. What do I do?”

“Well, I think you need to wait and see if she responds to your letter. Obviously, she's permitted to write you, and the marshals check it out and take care of the mailing. You do what you have to do where Leo is concerned, and you get on with your life. If there's anything I can do for your uncle, just ask.”

“Like you really have the time. Are you still donating your time to your friend Albert and the Church of the Good Shepherd?”

“Are you mocking me out?” Annie said stiffly.

“Jesus, no. You're getting as touchy as ... no, Annie, I was not mocking you out. I think what you're doing is great.”

“That's not what you said when you found out I donated all the stock to the church at Christmastime. I paid it back.”

“So I was a jerk about it all. You screwed me up. There I was, expecting you to spend Christmas with me, and I'm all hopped up about the holidays and you were gone. I thought something happened to you. I didn't give a hoot about the merchandise. You could have left me a note, Annie.”