Only When I Sleep

by E V Lind

  “The baby wasn’t hers. It was Lizzie’s,” Beth stated firmly.

  Mary-Ann stopped in her tracks and gave her a piercing look. “You know that?”

  What on earth had made her say anything? She didn’t know for sure. All she knew was that Lizzie had been pregnant. Maybe she did run away. Maybe she had safely given birth to her baby far, far away from here. Even as her mind reached for possibilities her heart told her the dreadful truth and along with it came a swell of grief that hit her like a black wave of despair.

  “Beth?” Mary-Ann prompted.

  Beth fought past the sensation that gripped her and focused instead on the living breathing woman here in the kitchen. “In her diaries...Lizzie wrote she was pregnant. Lizzie tried to hide it from her mother but I suspect she found out. It’s not as if you can hide something like that forever, is it?”

  Mary-Ann pulled out the chair next to Beth and took hold of her hands. “Was there anything else?”

  “Not much really, aside from how much she longed for Jonathon to come back from the war. She was waiting for him. I know she was. If that dead baby is hers—hers and Jonathon’s—where is she?”

  Mary-Ann sighed heavily. “That’s a question that’s been plaguing everyone around here for a very long time. So, those diaries. What else did they say?”

  Beth summarized the entries, describing Lizzie and Jonathon’s romance in a minimum of words. It was strange to be talking to someone else about Lizzie’s private thoughts and feelings. She felt as though since the words had been written in secret, they deserved to stay that way.

  “Aggie told me there was another diary. One I haven’t found yet. She said she kept them all from her mother—all but Lizzie’s last one. I think I know where it is.”

  “Tell me, I’ll get Ryan to get it before he comes up to the house.”

  Beth hesitated. Trust him, whispered in the back of her mind. The back of her neck prickled with a sudden shift of cool air and she shivered. Mary-Ann’s hold tightened imperceptibly, reminding her she was waiting for an answer.

  “Okay,” she nodded, more to the voice in her head than to Mary-Ann. She drew in a breath and let it go slowly. “When I first arrived at the house and had a look around I noticed a writing case on the chest of drawers in the downstairs bedroom. I tried to open it but it was locked.” Her voice trailed off and she shivered again, remembering that morning and Snowball’s reaction when she’d tried to look for a key.

  “Did you find a key?”

  “Not then, no. I got distracted, but this morning, while I was emptying the drawers I found a some loose keys. One was for the case, another for the drawer where...” She shuddered, remembering what else she’d found.

  “Where is the key now?”

  “I think I left it in the lock.” She searched her memory. “Yes, I did. I’d just turned the key in the lock when Ryan arrived. He...he distracted me and when I got back in the room I went to open the bottom drawer instead. It was locked and the second key I’d found opened it.”

  She shuddered. God, she wished she’d left it altogether.

  Mary-Ann reached into her purse for her cell phone and called Ryan. Beth got up and walked over to the windows again while she made the call. The image of the baby inside its wrappings in the drawer burned against her eyes. Panic rose inside her like a living thing beating behind her diaphragm. Her chest grew tight, her breathing labored. Was that what it had been like for the baby? Had it been wrapped in newspaper and oilskin while it was still alive or had it, more mercifully, already been deceased? She didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl.

  “He’s on his way,” Mary-Ann said, putting her phone back in her bag. “The police have gone. They’ve taken the baby and the box it was in to the medical examiner’s office in Ralston.”

  “Will they be back?”

  “No, they’ve taken a statement from Ryan. There’s not a lot else that can be done.”

  “Is he bringing the diary?”

  “He is. You know that Lizzie’s diaries could be evidence, don’t you? If the baby was murdered?”

  Oh, God. Now she’d not only made Ryan lie to the cops about finding the baby, she was potentially making him withhold evidence as well?

  “Stop worrying, Beth,” Mary-Ann said. Her voice was sharper than usual, which only served to increase Beth’s feelings of guilt. “It is what it is and it happened a long time ago. These things crop up now and then. Sometimes there are answers, most often there aren’t. Maybe the last diary will shed some light for us all. We don’t know for certain it was Lizzie’s child.”

  But Beth did. She’d never been more certain about anything and it broke her heart. Outside, the dogs set up a huge noise.

  “That’ll be Ryan.”

  Beth remained where she was even though every instinct urged her to get up out of her seat and go to him. To find out what was going on and, she admitted reluctantly, to find comfort. She shoved that feeling aside. She couldn’t afford to depend on anyone else emotionally and certainly not someone like Ryan Jones who was friendly one minute and as prickly as...as, well, herself, the next. She thought she’d been doing so well, taking care of herself. Learning to make decisions for herself. And all it had taken was one big shock and here she was, desperate to lean on someone else’s strength.

  She heard him stamp his feet at the back door and watched as Mary-Ann went to greet him. The murmur of their voices was a low buzz that grew stronger as they came into the kitchen. Ryan’s eyes sought her out the moment he cleared the doorway. He looked tired, drawn. Beth felt a tug of guilt that she’d put that weariness on his features by leaving him to face the police on his own. But she simply couldn’t have done it. It was way too risky. She rested a hand on her belly. She had far too much at stake.

  “You okay?” he asked gruffly as he pulled a small, black furry bundle from inside his jacket and handed Snowball over to her.

  Beth nodded and reached for the animal gratefully. She nuzzled her face into the kitten’s thick fur, taking solace in the deep answering purr that told her that Snowball was equally happy to see her, too. Ryan went over to the kitchen sink and washed his hands.

  “Beth’s fine,” said Mary-Ann bustling along behind him. “How about you sit yourself down and I’ll make you a coffee.”

  “Don’t fuss, Ma.”

  There was an edge to his voice that made Beth’s eyes widen and stopped even his mother in her tracks. Even when he was clearly irritated with his mother there was always a thread of love underlying his responses. But now his voice was laced with steel. Mary-Ann gave her son a sharp look before turning her attention to Beth.

  “Beth,” she said, “do you want to get your things and come back to the apartment with me?”

  “Actually,” she started, her voice a huskier than usual. “I thought I’d go back to the house. The police are finished there, aren’t they? I really don’t want to be a nuisance.”

  “No. She’s staying here with me,” Ryan said in a voice that brooked no argument.

  “But—” Beth started to protest.

  Mary-Ann looked from one to the other. “I see you have it sorted then.”

  “I do,” Ryan affirmed. “And she won’t be at work tomorrow, either. Today’s been a hell of a shock—for all of us.”

  “Not at work? Are you mad? You know I’m already short staffed!” Mary-Ann protested.

  “It’s okay, I’ll come in as usual, Mary-Ann,” Beth interrupted.

  “Are you comfortable with staying here, hon? Wouldn’t it be easier to stay with me? The weather’s forecast to bring another storm. At least if you’re with me you won’t have to commute.”

  “No, thanks, Mary-Ann. It’s okay.” She looked at Ryan. “I’ll be fine here. And the car’s all fixed so it won’t let me down. I’ll be on time. Please don’t worry.”

  Ryan gave her a small nod of approval which lit an unexpected kernel of warmth deep inside her.

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Mary-An
n said doubtfully.

  “She’s sure, Ma. We’ll be fine.”

  Mary-Ann looked at them both again and looked as if she wanted to say more but then decided against it. “Right, then. I’ll be on my way. I only wanted to make sure you were both okay.”

  When neither of them replied, Mary-Ann gave an audible sniff. “I’ll let myself out then.”

  Ryan sighed and hauled himself to his feet. “Don’t be precious, Ma. Beth and I have some things to say to one another, is all. She’ll be fine here for tonight and, if she’s up to it, you’ll see her at work again bright and early tomorrow.”

  He went with his mom to see her off. Beth stayed rooted in her chair clutching her cat. She and Ryan had things to say to one another? That was news to her. Outside, she heard Mary-Ann’s car start up and a few minutes later Ryan came back into the kitchen. Snowball strained to be let loose and the second she was free she sauntered over to Ryan and brushed against his legs.

  “Did you...” Beth faltered, then got up her courage again. “Did you find the diary?”

  “I did.”

  “May I have it?” she asked. “Aggie said it was her last one. The only one her mom ever found.”

  He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small notebook.

  “Knock yourself out. There’s not a lot in it.” He tossed the notebook on the table in front of her. “I’m going for a shower. Then we talk.”

  Beth waited until he was out of the room before reaching for it. The diary was grubby and dog-eared, different from the others. She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and opened to the first page.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Riverbend, OR, February 1942

  Dear Diary,

  She has beaten me and beaten me, trying to rid me of the child of my heart, of my dearest love, but the baby remains. I have shamed her and she makes her disgust in me known at every opportunity. I am no longer allowed to leave the house. When she is out I am in the darkness and when she is home I am confined to my room. This is how it will be until I am rid of the bastard, as she calls it. I fear for what will happen when my baby is born. What she will do. I can only pray that everything will turn out all right.

  Aggie watches me constantly, as if she’s fearful for me and when Mamma is away from the house she sneaks me some of her food. Sometimes I wonder if she is simple after all. There’s a knowing about her that I haven’t seen before. A wisdom hidden in her eyes.

  There has been no news from Jonathon. Please God, let this war be over. Let my one true love return home safe and take me and our babe away from here. Please.

  THIRTY-THREE

  “What’s wrong?” Ryan demanded, coming through the kitchen door.

  If there was anything that set his teeth on edge it was a crying woman but, for some idiot reason, the sight of the tears that ran down Beth’s scarred cheek affected him in a different way than usual. Suddenly all he wanted to do was beat the living shit out whoever or whatever had painted the grief that reflected so acutely in her eyes as she looked up at him.

  “I—I’m sorry...I just...” She shook her head as if she couldn’t come to terms with whatever it was that had upset her. “It’s just so cruel. Lizzie’s mother kept her prisoner from the moment she realized Lizzie was pregnant. She literally locked her up. Why didn’t anyone miss her, or question where she was?”

  “Are you sure about her being imprisoned? Maybe she didn’t mean it literally.” He was grasping at straws. On an instinctive level he knew Beth spoke the truth, just as surely as he knew his own face in the mirror each morning.

  Beth nodded and swiped at her face, wiping all signs of emotion away. “I’m sure.”

  Two words, so simple and yet delivered with such conviction Ryan had no doubt of Beth’s conviction whatsoever.

  “What else does she say?” he prompted.

  Beth passed him the diary and he read the next entry out loud.

  “Riverbend, OR, May 1942

  “Dear Diary,

  “Mamma couldn’t wait to tell me, a telegram came for Mrs. Jones today. Jonathon is missing in action. Killed, most likely, Mamma said. I want to scream and shout at her that he’s not dead, that he can’t be dead, but there’s a coldness that has taken up inside me and I’m terrified she is right—that he’ll never come home, never smile at me, never hold our babe.

  “Mamma is so smug. She told me that I am a piece of dirt, worse than dirt, and that if my bastard child lives it will be her eternal shame. I am banished to the darkness now, day and night. I hate it. I know it should be Spring outside, but in here it’s freezing cold and the black emptiness terrifies me.

  “Sometimes the dark is so thick it feels as though it is wrapping around me, like a hand around my throat, choking my last living breath from my body.

  “Poor Aggie, she is confused by the changes in our lives, but when Mamma goes to the big house, Aggie opens the door to the darkness and brings me food and light and this, my diary.

  “The baby grows. I take heart when I feel him move and he kicks vigorously against every part of my body but especially my bladder. I have nothing to relieve myself in and I am forced to feel my way to the corner. The smell in here is awful now. I am shamed by it. I am shamed by everything. Mamma tells me I must be repentant, that I am being punished by God. But I don’t believe that God’s hand is the one that holds the cane that cuts my back each week as I kneel in penance on this dirt floor.

  “If Jonathon is truly dead, then I wish that I was too.”

  Ryan blew out a slow breath. “Wow, her mother was messed up, huh?”

  “I feel so sorry for Lizzie. She was devastated. Even now I can feel it. And so afraid.”

  Ryan felt it, too. Felt the atmosphere in the room close in. Felt the air suck out of his lungs, almost like it had at the moment Aliah detonated. Felt the abject hopelessness of the situation. The helplessness.

  He fought to draw a breath, then another. Reminded himself that he wasn’t there in that market anymore. That he’d survived.

  “Looks like that was the last entry. I wonder what happened to Lizzie after that. And I wonder where her mom held her. The darkness—I guess she could have been in the old shed out back. The one that collapsed. But that had enough gaps in the wood for it to always have some light.” He pushed the diary back across the table to Beth. “So, the baby in the drawer? You think it was Lizzie’s?” he clarified.

  Beth nodded sharply. “I know it was.”

  “But then where did she go after it was born?”

  Beth looked up at him and her eyes mirrored a wealth of pain. “I don’t think she went anywhere.”

  “You think her mother killed her?” He couldn’t help the incredulity that crept into his voice. “Murder isn’t the kind of thing you could easily hide in a town this size.”

  “It might not be,” she agreed with obvious reluctance. “I don’t know what to think. But I do know what some people are capable of, right under other people’s noses.”

  Silence stretched out between them and Ryan knew she wasn’t talking about Lizzie anymore. He pulled out a chair next to Beth and rested one hand on the back of hers. He thought she’d pull away from the contact. Surprisingly, she didn’t.

  “Beth? Tell me what he did.”

  Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes. Tension emanated from her in waves. He knew she didn’t want to tell him but he knew equally well that if he was going to help her, he had to know what she was running from.

  “He was my boyfriend—at least, I thought he was. Turned out he was married.”

  She flicked her eyes up to his face. Looking for judgment, maybe? He wasn’t sure, but he did his best to keep calm and not to let his thoughts show.

  Beth continued to speak—her voice hesitant at first, unsure. But then she seemed to disassociate herself from the words themselves and they began to come more quickly. Ryan forced himself to remain still. No easy feat when all he wanted to do was alternately pace the
kitchen floor—or punch something. Or, preferably, a specific someone.

  When she got to the part where she’d received the burns on her face he couldn’t take it any longer. A vicious string of expletives burst from his mouth. Beth flinched and pulled her hand out from under his and he instantly regretted giving any voice to how her words had made him feel. He spoke quickly to soothe her.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just that what he did to you...it makes me so damn mad. He should rot in jail.”

  Ryan reached out and gently cupped her scarred cheek. For a second time, she didn’t instantly pull away. Something tugged inside of him, something that felt suspiciously like caring. As if she sensed it, she leaned into his hand. It was only briefly because then, as if she realized she’d let her guard down just that bit too far, she pulled away. Ryan let his hand drop. A tumble of unwanted emotion choked his thoughts. He didn’t want to care for her. He couldn’t. He didn’t deserve to. Not when his team’s families had lost everything they held dear. And all because he hadn’t cared about them enough to recognize a clear and present danger when he should have.

  Ryan pushed up from his chair. The wooden legs scraped across the tiled floor with a jarring sound. He was being a damn fool allowing himself to get all protective over someone who’d made it clearer than most that she didn’t want anything to do with him. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away completely. The urge to protect and shelter her came from a far deeper place. After hearing what she’d told him, he knew he’d do his best to guard her safety. But would his best even be good enough? It certainly hadn’t been before.

  Oblivious to his internal war with himself, Beth sighed and started to speak.

  “I contacted my friend Colleen, yesterday.” She huffed out another breath. “She said Dan’s been suspended from duty. I know he’s out there looking for me.”