“We’ll sort this out at the station,” the officer said. “Sir, please stand up.”
“Look, I just want to be with my wife. She’s been through hell.”
The officer gazed at him impassively. “She’s been here for hours,” he said. “Maybe you should have thought of that sooner.”
David glared at the officer. “I didn’t know about it, all right? I thought my wife was out of town. I can’t leave her now.”
“You’ll have to,” said the young officer.
David looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you arresting me?”
“If necessary,” said the cop. “Now let’s go.”
David looked at Emma with a stricken gaze, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Em…” He reached out a hand to her. She hesitated. By the time she tried to take it, the officer was gripping David’s arm, pulling him away.
“I said let’s go, Mr. Webster.”
David shook off the policeman’s hand. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”
The officer ignored him and continued to force him along toward the door.
“Oh my God, Steph,” said Emma. “What are they doing? This is all a mistake.”
“Come on,” said Stephanie. “The police will take care of it. Let’s get out of here.”
20
“I WANT to go home,” Emma said.
“Home?” Stephanie asked, taking her eyes off the road for a second to stare at Emma. “As in, your house?”
“Yes. I want to be there when David gets back from the police station.”
“Honey, you don’t know that he’s even going to get back tonight.”
“He was at the hospital with his mother, Steph. You heard him.”
Stephanie sighed. “If you want to go home, I’ll take you there.”
“Will you stay with me?” Emma asked.
“Of course,” said Stephanie.
When they arrived at Emma’s house and got out of the car, video cameras whirred and microphones were thrust into their faces. Emma’s house, glowing warmly from the lights inside, only a hundred feet away, seemed as distant as Shangri-la.
“Emma, what happened?” a reporter cried.
“Did he try it again?” asked another.
“Are you all right? What happened?”
Their questions cascaded over one another. “Leave her alone,” Stephanie cried as they inched toward the front door.
Emma heard their insinuations and knew that she had to ignore them. The officer who had been following them suddenly materialized out of the crowd and held the reporters back with outstretched arms, and a nightstick in his hand.
As they entered the house, the reporters’ voices were squawking behind them like crows. Stephanie closed the door and leaned against it. “God, Emma, they are brutal,” she said.
“Yeah, but you were great,” Emma said, shaking her head. “I thought you were going to punch one of those guys.”
“I should have,” said Stephanie.
They smiled at each other, and then, suddenly, they began to laugh. It wasn’t exactly mirth—more like laughing to keep from crying, but it still felt like a relief.
“Mind sharing the joke?”
Emma jumped, and Stephanie cried out. Emma turned and saw her stepfather standing in the doorway to the living room. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
Rory’s expression was placid. “Your mother gave me her key.”
“So you just waltz in here without asking?” Emma cried. “How dare you just let yourself into my home?” Emma was shaking.
Rory did not reply. He turned and went back into the living room, settling himself comfortably in an armchair. Emma turned to Stephanie and shook her head in disbelief.
“I’ll go make us a cup of tea,” said Stephanie.
Emma had no choice but to follow Rory into the living room.
“Why are you here?” she demanded.
Rory unbuttoned his jacket and smoothed down his tie. “I was in New York on business and your mother called me from Chicago. She was terribly worried about you after you called her today. Something about the nurse leaving. And then, when you didn’t show up in New York, Jessie was worried and called her,” Rory explained.
“Oh no,” Emma groaned. “I called Jessie to tell her I wasn’t coming.”
“Not until you were at the hospital,” said Rory.
Emma reddened. “How do you know about that?”
“I called the police, of course. And no, I haven’t told your mother yet. You’d better call her and let her know that everything is all right. It is all right, isn’t it? The baby and all.”
“Yes. Fine,” said Emma.
“And I take it they have your husband in custody.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Rory?”
“Well, don’t they?” he asked.
“For your information, David was at the hospital when I was attacked. With his mother. Sorry to disappoint you, but my husband did not do this.”
Rory adjusted his tie and composed his hands in his lap. “I know you don’t like me, Emma. But your mother adores you, and her happiness is very important to me.”
“Is it really?” Emma asked. Her anger at him boiled up inside, and suddenly it seemed the ideal opportunity to confront him, to wipe that smirk off his face.
“Of course,” he said.
“Is that why you date other women?” she asked.
“Please, sit down, dear,” he said mildly. “You’re injured. You’re pregnant.”
“Don’t change the subject,” she said. But she was feeling weak in the knees and needed to sit. She edged around the sofa and sank down onto a cushion, huddled against the arm farthest from Rory.
“What is the subject?” he said.
“I saw you in Chiara’s in New York. You were nuzzling up to some woman, not my mother,” she insisted.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. You should have spoken to me,” he said.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” she said.
“Not at all. I would have enjoyed introducing you to my companion. You’d like Charlotte. She’s beautiful and fun. She was my first wife, actually.”
“Your wife?” said Emma, surprised.
“First wife. Yes. I married her in college. Loved her dearly, but she left me.”
“So, what now? She’s changed her mind?” Emma asked.
“She left me for a woman.”
Emma blanched.
“Oh, don’t look so embarrassed. It was humiliating. But I survived. Now I don’t really care who knows about it. I went on to have a much better marriage with your mother. And Charlotte is living with some lady veterinarian down in the Florida panhandle. She happened to be coming to New York when I was. I know you were hoping it would be something sordid that you could report to your mother….”
“I only mentioned I saw you…from a distance,” she insisted.
Rory waved his hand dismissively. “Kay knows all about Charlotte. Just as I know all about Mitch Hollis. Although, admittedly theirs was a much more successful union. But, Emma, your mother and I are happy together. We are very fortunate to have found each other.”
Emma blushed. His tone was only mildly chastening, but she knew that she had insulted Rory and her mother by suggesting that he was being unfaithful to her. And no wonder. Wasn’t that exactly what people were doing to her and David these days? she thought. Doubting their commitment? And wasn’t it maddening when it happened? “Sorry,” she mumbled. “No offense.”
“None taken,” said Rory. Then he frowned. “So, your mother said on the phone that the nurse we hired for you left and didn’t come back.”
“That’s right. She walked out. She got mad, and she left,” said Emma.
“I called the health care agency,” said Rory. “The supervisor didn’t know anything about Miss Slocum’s leaving.”
“They didn’t know?” Emma asked, a little dismayed by this news. “Were they concerned? I mean,
is this par for the course, or is this the first time she’s done something like that?
“She’s extremely reliable. I wouldn’t have hired her otherwise. And yes, they were concerned. They were going to call her home to check on her.”
“What if she’s not there?”
“I’m sure they have emergency numbers and so forth.”
“Maybe they should call the police,” said Emma.
Rory shook his head. “I think your own experiences have you a little jumpy here. Adults are not considered missing until several days have passed,” he said. “Still, it seems a little strange to me.”
“It is,” said Emma.
Stephanie came into the room, carrying a tray with three teacups on it. “Anyone for a pick-me-up?” she asked.
Rory shook his head and pushed himself out of the chair. “I’d love to stay and visit with you ladies, but I need to be getting back to New York. I want to conclude my business so I can get home to Emma’s mother. Are you sure you’re all right here, Emma? What are we doing about protecting you now?”
Emma noted the “we” but resisted the urge to object to his paternalistic tone. “Stephanie is staying until David gets back. And the police are coming by every hour. Checking on the house.”
“Emma, I just don’t think that’s adequate. There have been two attempts on your life. The police should be stationed outside, not just driving aimlessly around. If they refuse to do that, then I think you should have a full-time bodyguard. Until the police capture whoever is doing this.”
Emma sighed. “I think you’re probably right. I’ll look into it.”
“I’d be glad to do it for you,” said Rory.
“I will take care of it,” she said.
“Your mother and I will check in with you tomorrow,” he warned. “By the way, before I forget, I have the papers for the Mathis boy’s trust.” Rory reached into a calfskin folder and handed them to Emma. “If you want to sign them where it’s marked, I’ll take them along and set things in motion.”
“Okay,” said Emma accepting the sheaf of papers and glancing at them briefly. She signed everywhere he had put an X. “Thanks for arranging this…Rory.”
Rory snapped the cap on his pen. “Glad I could help.” He tucked the pen into his vest pocket. Just then the front doorknob rattled, and all three of them looked up at it. David opened the door, walked into the front hallway, and looked around.
“David,” Emma cried.
She started to rise from her seat, but he was beside her before she had stepped away from the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her and held her fiercely. Emma felt all the tension inside of her give way in his embrace. Finally, he freed her and she looked up at him.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing. Yunger came over and read them the riot act and they had to let me go. As he pointed out to them, I had an alibi for the entire afternoon. I was at the hospital. I didn’t even want to dignify their questions with answers but…that’s why you have a lawyer. To keep you from acting stupid. So, anyway, here I am.” He turned to Rory and Stephanie. “Hello, Rory. This is a surprise.”
“I’m just leaving,” said Rory.
David turned to Stephanie. “Thanks, Steph,” he said. “For taking care of Emma for me.”
Stephanie nodded. “No problem.”
David looked at Emma. “I can take it from here,” he said.
Rory put the papers back into his briefcase and turned to David. “Keep Emma and my grandchild safe,” he said in a warning tone.
“I’ll do my best,” said David.
“So far, Dave, your best has been a little short of the mark,” said Rory.
Emma felt resentment start to rise in her throat, but David smiled and shook Rory’s hand. “I promise you,” he said.
“Good-bye, Emma,” Rory said. He patted Emma awkwardly on the shoulder.
“I guess I’ll go too,” said Stephanie. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me?”
“I’m fine right here,” said Emma. She and Stephanie embraced.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” said Stephanie. “Get some sleep.”
“I need to hang my coat up. I’ll see you out,” David said.
After they walked out of the room, Emma sank back down into the sofa. She felt light-headed and drained. She was still shaken from the attempt on her life, surprised by her stepfather’s concern, and relieved to have her husband home again.
David came back into the room, rolling up the sleeves of his chambray work shirt. “He’s not such a bad guy,” he said, flopping down on the sofa beside her.
Emma nodded. “Rory? I was thinking that. Maybe I’ve misjudged him.”
“Although I still hate that he calls me Dave,” David said.
Emma smiled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said.
Emma nodded. Then she glanced at him. “Now I am.”
“Are you still angry at me? From this afternoon? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I was such a jerk. Trying to excuse my own…missteps, by implying that you and Burke…I mean, I know better.”
“It’s all right. That seems like a million years ago,” she said.
Headlights flashed outside as a car slowed. David got up and walked over to the window, lifting the flax-colored curtain. “The police are out there.”
“They said they’re going to be checking on the house regularly tonight,” said Emma.
“I’m glad,” he said. “This nightmare just won’t quit. I want you to tell me everything that happened. We need to talk about taking some serious measures for keeping you safe.”
“I know. Rory said the same thing. But not now. I’m exhausted,” she said.
“I know you are,” he said, looking at her closely. “We better get you to bed.” He walked over to the sofa.
“I wish we could sleep upstairs in our bed. The two of us,” she said.
He stood gazing at her for a moment. Then he bent over and lifted her into his arms. She yelped in surprise and threw her arms around his neck. “We can,” he said. He carried her to the foot of the staircase as she laid her head carefully against his chest. She could hear his heart beating. Holding her close, he began to climb.
DESPITE HER EXHAUSTION, Emma felt irresistibly drawn to her husband, and they cautiously managed to make love. Then she fell into a deep sleep. It was the kind of sleep that, if left undisturbed, would last until late in the morning and leave a person groggy in its wake. But sometime into the third or fourth hour of sleep, something caused her to awaken with a start. Her heart was thumping, and her armpits felt clammy with sweat. A bad dream, she thought. Must have been. She couldn’t remember it now.
The heat in the bedroom, turned low for the nighttime, was almost nonexistent, and she could feel the chill outside her covers. She turned over, ready to reach for David, to fold herself against him and fall asleep again, lulled by the reassurance of his animal warmth. His covers were pulled back, his side of the bed, empty.
Immediately, she was wide awake, feeling a rush of panic. I’m alone, she thought. He’s gone. Calm down, she thought. He probably went to the bathroom. She listened for the sound of running water, but the house was silent.
“David,” she whispered. There was no answer.
Her heart was thudding now, and she felt sick to her stomach. She could feel herself spiraling into a panic. Stop it, she thought. Maybe he couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb her. Maybe he was downstairs, watching TV with the sound muted. But none of it made her feel better. Maybe he had disappeared too, like the nurse. Vanished from the house.
She knew she could lie there in the dark wondering, or she could get up and go find out. She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to get up. But her limbs felt leaden under the covers, and she was too frightened to budge.
You have to get up, she thought. You could be here until morning like this, staring for endless hours into the darkness, because there is no way you are going bac
k to sleep. She perused the room mentally, thinking about arming herself somehow. Then she remembered the kitchen knife. David had gone down to the kitchen for a cold drink after they had made love. He’d brought the knife back upstairs with him and had tucked it under the mattress, just in case.
Emma stuck one arm out from under the covers and groped around with her cold hand until she located the edge of the mattress. Sticking her hand tentatively between the mattress and the box spring, she carefully felt around until her fingers touched the metal blade. Her fingers traveled down to the handle and she gripped it, wresting it from its hiding place and drawing it under the covers.
Now that she was armed, part of her just wanted to stay there, as if the bed were her fortress. But reluctantly she swung her legs out and, still clutching the knife, swooped up her robe, pulling it on, snagging one sleeve on the tip of the blade. When she had the robe belted, she searched with her feet for her slippers and, shivering, slid them on. She thought about snapping on the bedside light but then decided against it. Darkness could be an advantage. If the worst had happened, if her enemy was here in the house and had somehow subdued her husband, she was better off in darkness. She knew this house better than any stranger could. She could glide through it without the aid of light. Another person might make a misstep. Might fall.
She tiptoed across the room and out to the upstairs hallway. Easing her way down the hall, knife in hand, she looked over the railing into the living room. She did not see her husband. Where are you, David? she thought. You promised not to leave me alone. For one moment she regretted that she had not stayed with Stephanie.
Stop it, she thought. You’re letting your imagination run away with you. David is here, in the house. Maybe he was hungry and went back downstairs to get something in the kitchen. Or maybe he couldn’t sleep and decided to do a little work in his office. Just go down there and look.
But the thought of descending those stairs, alone, in the dark, was terrifying. She stood at the top of the staircase, torn between the desire to go downstairs, or to rush back to her room, lock the door, and call Lieutenant Atkins. Joan Atkins wouldn’t be angry at her. She would understand. As Emma hesitated, holding her breath like someone about to leap into a deep ravine, her eye caught a movement in the unfinished nursery across the hall.
Married to a Stranger Page 18
