With Every Breath (33 page)

"Rick is here," she said finally, flatly.

This time the silence was long. "Oh, no. Oh, my goodness."

"He followed me here. And now he’s missing again. The cops think somebody killed him." If she hadn’t been able to shock Leslie, then she got a full minute of stunned silence from her aunt.

"Oh, my dear," Aunt Susan said finally, weakly. "There’s something else. They . . . the cops think that it all has something to do with my parents."

Two minutes of quiet, Maddie noted. She began to feel sick. "Aunt Susan? Are you there?"

"Yes, dear. I’m just ... I can’t imagine what one could have to do with the other."

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Aunt Susan, I don’t actually remember what happened that day the police came to the house to get me."

"Do you think it’s wise to try?" Aunt Susan’s voice rose at the end.

Maddie ignored her question. There was no easy way to answer it. Wise? God, no. Necessary? Yes, she thought, somehow.

"I need those pictures," she repeated. "I need to see if they jar something loose in my mind. Aunt Susan, listen, you’ve got to send them express. Put it on my business account, and send them overnight delivery, please? It’s urgent."

"I ... well, yes. Yes, of course."

"Listen, I’ve got to go," Maddie said suddenly. "I’ll be in touch. And thanks." She hung up quickly. Joe was watching her, his blue eyes narrowed.

"Why didn’t you ask her why she never told you how you were really found that day?" he asked bluntly.

Maddie felt fresh nausea chum in her stomach. "I just ... all of a sudden, I just decided I didn’t want to know. If she deliberately lied to me, that would really hurt. And I’ve got enough diamonds turning to dust right now." He nodded. She looked at him bleakly. And then she realized that she also had a lot of dust that was turning into diamonds.

He got to his feet and shepherded Josh to the door. She followed, and on the way out he stopped at Sheila’s desk.

"I’ll be at home if anybody’s looking for me."

"Home," Sheila repeated blankly. "Sure, okay. That’s where you always go, except on Fridays."

"Maddie and Josh will be with me," he went on. Maddie looked at him oddly. There was something deliberate in his tone.

"All right," Sheila said slowly.

Joe took a deep breath. "And I’d appreciate it if you’d spread that word."

Sheila’s jaw dropped. "You want me to spread it this time?"

"Listen closely, Sheila. Somebody has probably killed Maddie’s husband. And if he’s not dead, he’s running around here somewhere. So I’m going to play it safe and take it for granted that either Rick Graycie or the person who killed him might still want to hurt her. That make any sense to you?" He turned for the door, limping. "And I want everybody on the whole goddamned island to know that she’s not sitting up on The Wick alone." "You know, Joe," Sheila called out, recovering, "for a few hours today I thought you were actually being polite. I’m glad to see you’re back to your old self!"

He reached the door and held it open for Maddie and Josh. "You were right the first time, Sheila. Hell, I’m a whole new man."

The man hung the telephone up carefully. His heart was beating much too hard. He pressed a hand to his chest, wondering if he would have a heart attack.

In twenty-five years, Susan Brogan had never called him before, not since she had come to get the child, not since he had first thought it was finally over.

He looked up sharply at a sound approaching his study door. His heart beat even harder. Squeak, squeak.

"Who was that?" The woman’s voice was as strident and nerve-tweaking as the wheels of her chair.

"It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with."

"It’s about her, isn’t it?" she demanded, squeak-squeaking
her way farther into the room. "That woman."

Suddenly, he’d had enough.

Everything had backfired. Everything was hopelessly snarled, and it was getting out of his control. He’d thought to remove her problem for her so that Madeline could go home, could return safely to Florida. Instead Susan Brogan had called to tell him that Maddie was trying to remember. That she thought that Graycie’s death had something to do with ... before.

Dear God. Maybe it did. He’d shot Graycie, had thought he was dead, but the entire island was looking for him.

In fact, he’d thought the man was dead when he’d arrived.

Many men had loved Annabel Cawley Brogan. Any of those men who had cared for her might have helped him last night, he thought. But who?

He was getting too old for this, he realized, his chest paining him suddenly.

"I won’t tolerate it," the woman said plaintively, pulling his attention back to her, then her voice rose. "I forgave you—"

"You forgave nothing," he snarled. "You’ve made me pay for everything that happened. You’ve made me pay and pay."

"I’m still with you," she said righteously. "You still enjoy my money."

"Damn you," he breathed. "And damn your money." "I’ve let bygones be bygones, but I won't let it start up again. She’s
gone, but now her daughter—"

His blood went cold.

Suddenly the man was upon her, his hand twisting in the front of her silk robe, lifting her bodily from her wheelchair. Her still-beautiful face bleached of color. For the first time in their forty-five years together, the man thought he saw true fear in her eyes.

"If you harm one hair on Madeline Brogan’s head, I’ll kill you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

The woman was too stunned to answer.

Gina was dressed to go when they told her she wouldn’t be leaving.

Almost twenty-four hours had passed since her admittance. She was pacing her room, wondering if they had put that sheet over her last night before or after Joe had shown up. She wondered if he had seen all the blood.

She felt grubby and limp, but she would go home, take a shower, and look just fine by the time he came to her condo to check on her. They would settle things then, finally. The door squeaked and she spun around, her long, dark hair fanning.

A woman in a white coat stood just inside the door. Her name was Anita Pacer. Dr. Anita Pacer. Gina had spoken to her three times that day already. She was the

psychiatrist they’d appointed to her case. For the first time Gina gave the woman a genuine smile.

"I’m ready."

"Gina, I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans."

She felt her blood draining slowly, something like it had last night. "A change?" she asked warily.

"That’s right. When we spoke today, you didn’t mention that you’d damaged the automobile belonging to the woman you think your ex-husband has been seeing. All you told me was that you were distraught because you’d believed a reconciliation was imminent, and then he began seeing someone else."

Her heart began hammering. "Who told you that?" she managed.

"A complaint was filed today."

"Today? Today?"
But she had done that on Sunday! "Let me see that!"

She snatched a paper out of the doctor’s hand. And then she understood. This was a plot, a plan. Joe and Maddie were in this together. The edges of her vision went dark, then red. She began shaking.

The doctor went on. "Under the circumstances, your ex-husband has arranged with the court to keep you in a protective environment for the full seventy-two hours. I think it’s a good idea, Gina. I’m concerned with the way you ... omitted certain information today."

"He can’t do that!" Gina shrieked. "He’s not my husband anymore! He can’t—"

"It has nothing to do with him having once been married to you," Dr. Pacer interrupted. "He acted in his capacity as chief of police."

"I’ll kill him!" Gina wailed.

Dr. Pacer watched her thoughtfully.

Control, she had to keep control. She knew what they were doing. They were all waiting for her to do something so off the wall that they could keep her there forever, against her will. That was why Joe wanted her to stay the whole three days, so she would slip up. She had been through this before, when they’d made a big deal about her drinking after Lucy had died, and then she’d gotten those DUIs.

She’d had to be careful then, so very careful, to make the most perfect expressions of grief. They couldn’t think she was too distraught, or not distraught enough. The only way she had dodged that bullet was to agree to see Leslie Mendehlson for six months and dry out.

What worked before will work again.

Gina flipped her hair back. "I’m sorry," she said evenly. "Of course I don’t mean that. I’m just worried that Joe’s doing this out of ... out of some sort of personal ... what’s that word?"

"Vendetta?"

"Yeah. To get me out of the way so he can be with her." "He doesn’t have to get you out of the way, Gina," Dr. Pacer pointed out carefully. "You’re divorced. Legally, he can do anything he likes with his life now without consulting you."

"It’s just a piece of paper!"

"Ah." Dr. Pacer looked at her watch. "Well, I’ve got two more patients to check on. Why don’t you have some dinner, and I’ll come back in about an hour? We’ll talk more about this then."

"I don’t want—" Gina choked, caught herself, and forced herself to breathe evenly. "That would be fine." "Good."

Dr. Pacer left. As soon as the door stopped swinging, Gina ran to it.

She wouldn’t be there in an hour, she decided. She’d had enough. But as things turned out, it was another twenty-four hours before she escaped.

Chapter 27

Maddie made Josh a cheese sandwich. The meal possibilities to be found in Joe’s kitchen were dismal, and Josh’s appetite seemed to have become unremitting. She finally sent him upstairs to the tub, then looked at Joe bleakly.

"I’ve got to talk to him about ... about last night." Joe watched her. "Yeah."

"I should have addressed it already."

"Well, there's been a lot going on."

She grimaced. "It’s just that I don’t know what to say to him. I’ve been stalling. If we knew for certain that Rick was dead ..."

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then went with it. "If it were my kid, I’d tell him he was. Don’t hold out hope."

Maddie took a shaky breath. "You really think he’s gone."

"Yeah." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mean, hell, look what we’ve got here. Blood. A lot of it. And nobody turned up anywhere for treatment."

"He could be just ... I don’t know, lying low somewhere, licking his wounds. Healing," she said helplessly.

"You don’t heal from those kinds of wounds, babe. You just keep bleeding."

"So where is
he?" she burst out. "Joe, your people looked all over The Wick!"

"I’m starting to think that maybe the tide took him out."

"The tide?"
She whipped around, away from him, driving her fingers into her hair. "You think he was stupid enough to crawl down to the waterline? I don’t." "Well, it’s either that, or Hector has a leg to stand on," he snapped, "and I’ll be damned if I’m going to buy into that just yet."

She looked at him again. "Hector?"

"He thinks the goddamn Wick is haunted or something. Or that there are wild Englishmen living up there in the reeds. Hell, for all I know, maybe there are, and one of them took Rick in."

She blanched. "That’s not funny."

He wasn’t entirely sure he was joking.

"If there were Englishmen up there, you’d know about it," she persisted seriously. "They searched. They would have found them."

He finally cracked half a grin. "Yeah."

She blew her air out. "Which doesn’t do me a damned bit of good regarding what I tell Josh."

Somehow he knew she’d figure it out. She’d say something strong and comforting. She wasn’t just a good mother, he realized. She seemed to love being a mother. Unbidden, he remembered Gina and Lucy. Gina had done everything she’d had to do to keep Lucy clean and healthy and cared for. But there had always been an impatience about her, as though there was somewhere else she’d rather be.

Joe shook the memories away. "I’ll wait for you down here."

Maddie sighed. As she went upstairs, her legs felt wooden.

Josh was dressed in his favorite pajamas, rescued from the rental house. When she had him snuggled down in the bed in the guest room, she sat beside him, still wondering where and how to start.

He stared back at her, his sea-green eyes somber and serious.

"We’re going to be staying here with Joe for a few days, I think," she said finally, and she wondered how long? How long until there are answers, until this is over?

Josh said nothing.

"Is that okay with you?" she went on, and then her heart stalled.

Josh nodded.

He nodded.

Her first, strongest urge was to grab him, to hug him and cry. She fought it off. From somewhere deep inside her another memory came back, one of Florida this time. She remembered when she had finally spoken again. Everyone had rushed at her, nearly scaring her out of her skin, making her wish that she had never opened her mouth at all.

She wouldn’t do that to Josh.

She only smiled, though it took more willpower than anything ever had in her life. "Good," she answered, then she hesitated. "I guess you know why we’re staying here, right? Why we can’t go back to the house right now?"

He made no response this time. Okay, she thought, okay. She would go with Joe’s opinion.

She trusted him, she thought. Maybe crazily, maybe