Читать книгу Nanny in Hiding - Patricia Kay - Страница 9

“Mommy! Lookit me! I can do a summersot!”

Amy Jordan smiled at her three-year-old’s exuberance. “It’s summersault, sweetie. Can you say sault?”

“Sot,” Calista said, grinning up at her mother from her upside-down position.

Amy chuckled. Ls and Rs were hard for her daughter to get her tongue around. As Calista continued doing her version of a summersault, Amy glanced at her watch. With a pang, she saw there was only about ten minutes left of her allotted visiting time.

As always, at the thought of leaving Calista, Amy’s spirits plummeted. She eyed Mrs. Witherspoon, who sat placidly knitting. What was the woman thinking? Did she have any idea how painful these visits were for Amy? Just how hard it was for her to leave her daughter week in and week out?

The strict rules of visitation Amy was required to follow nearly overwhelmed her with despair. After all the abuse she had suffered, the unfairness of the judge’s decree made her want to scream or weep or both. But as hard as it was for her to maintain control and leave Calista, it was even harder on her baby. Remembering the scene last time, Amy girded herself to be strong and make parting as easy for Calista as she could.

To that end, she slowly rose from the floor where she’d been playing with her daughter for the past three hours.

“Almost time?” Mrs. Witherspoon said, putting down her knitting.

Amy swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.

“Before you go, let me just run to the bathroom.”

Amy’s heart banged against her chest as she realized what the woman had said. Forcing her voice not to give away her sudden excitement, she said, “Okay.”

The moment Mrs. Witherspoon disappeared down the hall, Amy flew into the dining room. Grabbing one of the chairs, she hurried toward the bathroom where she jammed the chair up and under the doorknob. Then she raced back to the living room, snatched up Calista, grabbed her purse and ran out the door.

“Mommy?”

“It’s okay, honey.” Reaching her car, which was parked in the driveway, Amy unlocked it with shaking hands. Earlier, she’d covered the car seat she was never without and now she pulled the blanket off and somehow managed to get Calista buckled in without losing more than a couple of precious minutes. She had no idea how long she’d have before Mrs. Witherspoon realized what had happened and managed to free herself from the bathroom and alert Cole that Amy had taken off with Calista.

All she knew was this was her chance, the first opportunity she’d had in the year since the divorce, and she wasn’t going to blow it. She’d been ready for months. Every time she visited with Calista, the trunk of her car had been packed for a getaway. Everything the two of them needed to begin a new life was in that trunk: clothing, toys and games for Calista, food, money, a first-aid kit, sleeping bags. She even had fake ID, thanks to the underground network that aided abused women and children and helped them escape the men who persecuted them.

By now Amy’s heart was beating so fast it scared her, and when her car didn’t immediately start, she thought she might pass out. But the engine caught on the next try, and within minutes Amy was doing a sedate thirty miles an hour—she was terrified of getting stopped for speeding—and heading for the highway that would take her away from Mobile.

She still couldn’t believe it had happened. Never before, in all the time since the divorce, had Mrs. Witherspoon left her alone with Calista. Amy had begun to believe it might never happen, yet she had never given up hope.

“Mommy?” Calista said from the backseat. “Are we goin’ to the store?”

“No, sweetie. We’re going on a vacation.”

“A ’cation?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is Daddy coming?”

“Nope. Just you and me.”

“Okay,” Calista said happily.

Amy smiled, even though inside she was a mass of nerves. She kept looking in the rearview mirror, but so far she saw nothing suspicious. It had only been ten minutes since she’d left Cole’s house. Mrs. Witherspoon probably hadn’t been able to free herself yet, so Amy doubted if Cole knew what had happened. With any luck, it would be hours before he did.

God knew Amy was due a little luck.

Calm down, she told herself.

Just calm down and drive.

A mile later she approached the entrance ramp to I-10 West. Moving into the left lane, she increased speed as she entered the freeway. She wouldn’t be able to stay on the interstate long because that would be the first place the authorities would look. But she needed to get a ways out of Mobile before she transferred to secondary roads, so she was taking a calculated risk. She figured the least amount of time she had before Cole called out the dogs was thirty minutes. To be safe, she would then have to move to the smaller highway she had mapped.

Thirty minutes.

Amy stepped on the accelerator and began to pray.