Читать книгу Running Scared - Shirlee McCoy - Страница 11

Maggie paced the bedroom at the top of the stairs, her stomach churning with dread. She needed to lie down on the inflatable mattress, close her eyes and try to sleep, but sleep didn’t come easily on the best of nights.

And this definitely wasn’t the best of nights.

As a matter of fact, Maggie figured it rated right up there with one of the worst.

No good deed ever goes unpunished.

She could almost hear her grandmother’s raspy, smoker’s voice, could almost see her wrinkled face and time-ravaged body sitting in the dark corner of the room, watching through still-sharp eyes.

“That’s a wonderful image to have in the middle of a storm, in the middle of one of the worst nights of your life,” she muttered, shivering a little as a gust of wind rattled the window and shot through its old frame. It was one of the windows she planned to replace. Maybe she shouldn’t bother.

Maybe she should have a Realtor come and re-hang the “for sale” sign that had caught Maggie’s eye nearly four months ago. Then Maggie could get in her car and drive back through the mountains, back down into the open land that she’d passed through when she’d run from Miami three years ago.

When she’d run from Derrick, the man she’d once believed herself madly in love with.

She was older now, hopefully wiser, and she knew the truth about love. It was fickle, blind and dumb. Pursuing it was a waste of time and energy, and when Maggie left Miami, she’d decided to put her efforts into something more concrete. Education, financial security, creating the kind of life she could be proud of.

And she had.

She was.

With God’s help she’d pulled out of the downward spiral that had nearly killed her. She’d given up the party-hard lifestyle, and she’d finally found a measure of the peace she’d wanted so desperately when she was a young kid.

And now it was slipping through her fingers like mist on a summer morning.

One little boy with sad eyes and a wary demeanor, and Maggie had gotten herself embroiled in the biggest feel-good story of the year.

Feel-good for everyone but her.

If it weren’t so awful, she’d laugh.

She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension there. God had reasons for everything. Maggie believed that. Just as she believed that going to Sheriff O’Malley with her suspicions about Eli had been the right thing to do.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Maybe Grandma Jane had been right, but Maggie wouldn’t change what she’d done. Seeing Eli with his father had been one of the best gifts she’d ever received. Sure, it had been difficult to observe the tension between the two, but Maggie had no doubt that Kane would eventually win his son over. The man had determination and patience to spare. She’d seen that in the way he’d stood back and let his son just be. No pressure. No expectations. He was going easy, not demanding anything from his confused little boy.

Maggie couldn’t help but admire that.

Her cell phone rang, its shrill tone making her jump. She grabbed it, her heart beating rapidly as she glanced at the caller ID. It was after midnight, and Edith was calling. That couldn’t be good.

She braced herself as she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Did I wake you, Maggie? I wasn’t going to call, but it’s just so exciting, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Exciting? What’s exciting?”

“Well, first of all, the fact that Kane Dougherty showed up on my doorstep a few hours ago. You know who he is, right?”

Maggie considered playing dumb but knew Edith wouldn’t fall for it. “He’s the father of the little boy who was missing for five years.”

“Exactly. And he was here looking for you. He said it was imperative that he speak to you. Did he make it out to the house?”

“Yes, he did.” And Maggie had no intention of saying more than that.

“I’m not nosey enough to ask why he wanted to find you, but I’d be tempted to hint broadly that after three years of renting an apartment from me, you could trust me with any tidbit of information you wanted to throw my way.”

Maggie laughed, some of her tension easing away. “Fine. I’ll throw a tidbit your way. Kane’s son is one of the students in my classroom.”

“And?”

Maggie hesitated. She didn’t want to lie, but she wasn’t ready to tell Edith everything. “Eli was feeling unsettled, and Kane thought it would be good for him to see someone familiar.”

“Makes sense. That poor child has been through a lot. Too much.”

“Hopefully, things will be better for him now that he’s back with his father.”

“No doubt they will. I still can’t believe that woman was right under our noses, and we didn’t know it. A kidnapper in our midst.”

“She hasn’t been here long, and I don’t think anyone got to know her. That made it easy for her to hide who she was and what she’d done.”

“I suppose you’re right. They showed a photo of her on the evening news, and I don’t recall ever seeing her in town. Showed a photo of the little boy, too. Guess who was in the picture with him?”

Maggie’s heart stuttered, then started up again. “Who?”

Please, don’t say “you.” Please don’t.

“You!”

She said it, and Maggie’s heart sank, her stomach tying in a knot so tight she could barely breathe let alone speak.

“Maggie? Did you hear me? You’re famous!”

“I heard.”

“Well, you don’t sound very happy about it.”

“I just don’t understand where they got a photo of me, or why they’d put it on the news.”

“It was taken at the harvest party at school. You were supervising some sort of game, and Eli was standing right next to you. I guess the parents of one of his classmates took the photo and sold it for a good price.”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t sound so glum. This is great.”

“It is?”

“I’ve had at least a dozen people call me to ask if it was really you in that picture. You’re headline news here in Deer Park, and that means every eligible guy in the area will want to find out more about you.”

Maggie laughed again, but this time the sound was hollow and empty. “Edith, you never give up, do you?”

“On finding Mr. Right for a good friend? I’m afraid not.”

“For me, there is no Mr. Right.”

“You’re too young to be so cynical. Sometimes a girl has to kiss a lot of frogs before she finds her prince.”

“And sometimes every frog she kisses is a toad,” Maggie responded, only half listening to Edith.

She’d spent the better part of the day planning ways of staying out of the news, had driven out to the farmhouse in the first storm of the season to avoid cameras and reporters, and she’d been undone by a photo snapped at the class harvest party nearly a month ago.

“Okay, so maybe there are a lot of toads, but what if the next one is a prince? What if he’s just waiting for his true love to appear? For all you know, he could sweep you off your feet tomorrow because he saw you in the news today.”

“Edith, you read way too many romance novels.”

“Romance novels? I’ll have you know I lived the greatest romance of all. Can I help it if I want the same for the people I care about?”

“No. And I love you for it, but I’m not looking for Mr. Right, and I never will be.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t find him. God has His ways, you know.”

Maggie did. She just didn’t understand them. “Right. When was the photo in the news?”

“Eight o’clock is what Margaret said. She called me right afterward to tell me, but I wasn’t sure I could believe her. Her eyes aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“When did you see it?”

“Ten o’clock. I was going to call you right away, but I got so many phone calls, I couldn’t.”

“Was it the local news?”

“Nope. You’re famous countrywide. Probably farther. This story is a big one.”

“That’s for sure,” she muttered, grabbing the few things she’d taken from her duffel and shoving them back inside it. Her first instinct had been right. She needed to leave town, get as far away from Deer Park and its sensational news as she could.

“Are you okay, dear? You sound…agitated.”

For a moment, Maggie considered telling Edith that she was terrified, not agitated, but she didn’t dare drag someone she cared about into her troubles. “I’m fine. I’m just surprised so many people noticed me in the photo.”

“Noticed? You were a showstopper. Let me tell you. All that honey-blond hair hanging around your shoulders and the sweet smile you were giving that poor little boy. You looked breathtaking. There isn’t a man on this planet who wouldn’t want to get to know you, and there isn’t a woman who isn’t going to wish she was you.”

“You’re exaggerating, Edith.”

“I’m not. Though I admit to a certain amount of bias when it comes to you. You’re like one of my children, my dear, and I couldn’t be prouder to know you.”

Maggie’s throat tightened at the words, her eyes filling with tears. If she could have chosen a mother, she would have chosen one like Edith. A woman who had devoted her life to her husband and children rather than to drugs and booze and the next creep with a wallet. “Thank you, Edith. That means a lot to me.”

“Good. Now, let’s stop being sappy and start planning what you’re going to wear Sunday.”

“Sunday?”

“To church, dear. You’ve got to look your best just in case—”

“Mr. Right has somehow magically appeared in town? How about we discuss this another time, Edith? It’s late, and I’m tired.” And she needed to leave, walk away from everything she’d worked so hard for.

“You’re right. It is late, and we both need our beauty sleep. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” But she wouldn’t because she’d be hundreds of miles away, trying to find a new identity so that she could sink into obscurity again. She hung up the phone, her muscles leaden and tight as she grabbed her duffel and walked out of the room. She’d leave the satchel with the grade book and ungraded papers. Eventually, someone would come looking for her and find it.

The stairs creaked as she hurried down, the old floorboards groaning beneath her feet as she rushed into the kitchen and scrounged through the cupboards. She didn’t have much. Just a package of crackers, a couple of cans of soup and the cookies she’d shared with Eli a few hours ago. She grabbed one and took a bite as she shoved everything else into her duffel. It tasted like dust, and she nearly choked as she tried to swallow it down.

Sugar could cure a lot of ills, but it did nothing to tame the fear that beat a hard, harsh rhythm in Maggie’s chest. Her picture was on national news programs, and Derrick had always been a news fanatic. Wall Street news. Cable news. Network news. He’d watched it incessantly, and Maggie had often been jealous that he hadn’t spent that time with her.

She’d been such a fool, so confused about what real love was, what true caring felt like.

And now she was going to pay the price.

Again.

She frowned, hurrying back down the hall, silently saying goodbye to the house she’d scrimped and saved to purchase, the dream she’d built in her head.

She pulled open the front door, stepping out onto the porch, the cold wind bathing her hot cheeks and drying the tears that burned behind her eyes. Ice had accumulated on the front porch, and the yard and driveway sparkled with it. Tall pine trees bent beneath the howling wind, and ice fell from their heavy boughs, hitting the ground with a hushed shattering that was so beautiful, so achingly perfect that Maggie paused, wanting to take it all in, preserve the memory so that she would never forget what was possible if she put her mind and heart into it.

A sharp crack split the air as something exploded near Maggie’s feet. Wood flew up and out, digging into her shins, flying into her face. She screamed, falling backward.

Another crack. Another explosion.

Pain.

Blood. Dripping down her arm. Dripping onto the rotted wooden floorboards of the porch.

She screamed again, scrambling back as a figure appeared in the darkness beyond the porch. A hundred yards away. Coming fast.

Get up! Get. Up.

The world in slow motion as she turned, fell into the hallway, kicked the door shut. Hands slipping as she turned the lock. Pulled the bolt. Blood smeared on the door.

Go. Go, go, go.

She ran up the stairs, expecting the door to explode behind her. Expecting a bullet to slam into her back, bring her to her knees.

Her cell phone slipped out of her hands as she pulled it from her pocket, and she scooped it up again. She tried desperately to dial 911, her hand trembling too much. Fingers hitting the wrong buttons.

Please, God. Please!

A loud bang had her screaming again, lunging for the bedroom door, slamming it shut, turning the old-fashioned skeleton key as the 9-1-1 operator answered.

Another bang as Maggie shouted her address, shouted that an intruder was in her house.

And then silence, deep and ominous and filled with warning.

“Ma’am? Are you still there? Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Maggie responded, backing away from the bedroom door, her heart thudding a hard, painful beat.

Was he in the house? Creeping up the stairs? Standing outside the door?

“Police are in route. Are you in a safe place?”

“No.”

“Can you get to one?”

“No.”

Was that the loose floorboard on the landing creaking? Was that a whisper of fabric, a sigh of breath?

“Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” she barely managed to whisper, as she glanced around the room, trying to find something she could use to defend herself.

“The police are almost there. Stay on the phone with me, okay? Okay?”

But Maggie couldn’t respond, didn’t dare speak or move or breathe. Someone was outside the door. Someone who tapped softly on the thick wood, wiggled the handle as the sound of sirens drifted into the room.

Maggie backed up, moving toward the window, dizzy with fear, sick with it. Waiting for help to come, for the door to explode. For Derrick to appear. Black eyes and hair and snarling lips. Coming to do exactly what he promised he would when Maggie had walked out of his life.

But she wasn’t the woman she’d been all those years ago. She’d changed. Grown stronger, more determined, and she wasn’t going to wait around for whoever was on the other side of the door to break in and finish what he’d started.

She yanked open the window, eyeing the ground as sirens screamed up her driveway. Voices shouted. A gunshot split the air.

And then there was silence filled with nothing but wind and ice and the terrible beat of Maggie’s heart.