Maggie's Hunt

by Karen Woods

  Hunt sighed. “There’s been another threat delivered against your life, Maggie mine. That’s one of the reasons that we are here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Maggie demanded. “What kind of threat? How was it delivered?”

  “Michael’s Capitol Hill office got a fax containing a photograph of you sleeping in the room of the house where you were held in Spain. The caption on the picture said ‘It isn’t over. She’s a dead woman. Anyone who gets in our way will be dead, too’,” Susan said. “I was in the office working when it came in.”

  “When was this?”

  “Two weeks ago,” Michael said tightly.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Maggie asked.

  Hunt took his wife’s hand. “Maggie mine, we didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Who would have had access to your fax number?” Maggie questioned.

  “Anyone who could read. I published the number,” Michael said. “It is a fax line for the convenience of my constituents.”

  “I can’t imagine the mountain of paper which you must have in your office from all those unsolicited faxes,” Maggie said with a small laugh.

  Michael smiled at her. “Thanks to Susan, I’ve got a preprocessor hooked up to the line. It’s a computer with a fax card, two very large hard drives, and a tape back up. The computer intercepts the faxes, checks for sizes, and stores only the first two pages. It also stores the telephone number from which the call was placed. So, if a staff member wants to look at the rest of the fax, he can call back and request a retransmission on a different line. A staff member browses through the faxes, logs the responses, and prints only the ones that need my attention. That way, I minimize the amount of waste paper. Only whoever sent this one was a reasonably skilled hacker. He replaced the telephone number with (000) 123-4567.”

  Maggie sighed. “We shouldn’t underestimate these people,” she said. “But, you should have told me. You really should have. Please don’t keep me in the dark. I have a right to know.”

  Hunt tightened his grasp on his wife’s hand. “We just didn’t want to worry you, Maggie mine.”

  Maggie smiled and shook her head. “I appreciate the fact that you want to keep me safe. But, please don’t treat me like I was either the village simpleton or an old maid likely to succumb to vapors if given bad news.”

  Susan looked at her seriously. “If we hadn’t been told by the doctors that you were still a virgin, we might have been more concerned by the picture. Although, that news did surprise me.”

  Maggie turned white, then red. She didn’t miss the looks which Michael and Hunt gave the other woman. “You want to explain that, Hunt?” she asked quietly.

  “The photo showed you, lying on a blanket, eyes closed, naked with a knife to your throat,” he told her painfully. “You don’t remember that picture being taken?”

  Maggie shuddered. “No,” she answered tightly. “They probably came in while I was asleep. You know how I am when I conk out.”

  Hunt smiled at her. “Yes, sweetheart. Heaven help anyone who needed to get you awake after you fell asleep.”

  Maggie finished her coffee. “Well,” she said firmly, “I hate to be a wet blanket on this little party. However, I am extremely tired. Please excuse me.”

  “I’ll be in shortly,” Hunt said as he let go of her hand.

  “All right. Good night, Michael, Susan. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  Michael nodded. “We’ll be leaving about noon for a campaign trip. We won’t be back for a week or so.”

  Maggie nodded. “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

  But sleep didn’t come at all. Maggie, finally tired of being awake in the darkness of her lonely bedroom, rose and went into the kitchen. As she had suspected, the cabinets and refrigerator were completely stocked. She found a gallon jug of milk, some sugar, cocoa powder, vanilla, and a bag of miniature marshmallows.

  She had just put the chocolate mixture on to heat when Hunt walked in, knotting the belt of his short terry robe around him.

  “Is there enough for two?”

  Maggie nodded, as she took another heavy mug from the cabinet. “Sure. You can’t sleep, either?”

  “I’m a light sleeper, Maggie mine. I heard you out here,” he told her quietly.

  “I didn’t make much noise.”

  “One of us needs to be a light sleeper,” he said.

  Maggie sat down at the small oak table. “You want to make sure that the cocoa doesn’t scorch, please?”

  Hunt nodded and moved over to the stove. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No,” she replied wearily after a long moment of introspection. “Not really.”

  “It embarrassed you that Susan was so frank at the dinner table.”

  “That’s a rather personal thing to be bandied about like that,” Maggie said softly.

  “The doctors had to know if you would need treatment for any one of a number of STDs. We were all relieved to find that the men hadn’t forced themselves on you, Maggie mine,” Hunt told her gently.

  Maggie covered her face with her hands. She forced herself to draw several deep breaths to calm herself down.

  It was all Hunt could do not to step over to her and wrap his arms around her, to tell her that it was all right to give into the anger and pain that she felt. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge she definitely would not appreciate it. Maggie wasn’t ready yet to confront what had happened to her. It tore him up watching her put on a brave front all the time. Frankly, he found himself wanting to strangle Michael and her father and brother for teaching her that this was the only way to handle pain: to pick up her life and ignore it.

  A few minutes later, he poured the steaming cocoa into the marshmallow-lined mugs. “Here you are,” Hunt said gently.

  “Thanks. I’m sorry to wake you up.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m here for you, whenever you need me, Maggie mine.”

  “Did you see the picture on the fax?” she asked hesitantly.

  “No,” Hunt said. “I didn’t want to. I knew that it would make me too angry. The description made me angry enough.”

  Maggie nodded. “I can understand that.” Then she looked at him searchingly, the pain that he had so rarely seen in her eyes back, now in force. “Would it have made any difference to the way that you felt about me, if . . . .” Maggie couldn’t finish the sentence. She looked down at her cup of cocoa. Her face crumpled. Tears began to fall freely. Great wracking sobs came from her.

  She never knew when Hunt swept her from the chair and carried her to the sofa in the living room, she was so absorbed in the misery she had carried around for too long. Gradually, she became aware of Hunt’s strong arms around her, holding her firmly but gently, of his voice speaking comforting words to her, telling her that it was all right to cry, telling her that he would make certain that she was never hurt again.

  “Feel better, now?” Hunt asked gently, as he wiped the tears from her face. “Actually, my head hurts, my eyes are burning, and my throat feels like sandpaper,” she replied lightly. “I want to crawl in a hole somewhere and pull the hole in after me.”

  Hunt nodded. “I know. I’ve been waiting for you to drop those formidable walls of yours. They were holding in more pain than they were letting out.”

  Maggie was quiet for a long time as she snuggled into his arms and nuzzled her head into his shoulder. “Have I really been that closed off?” she asked lightly as she looked at him.

  “Oh, Maggie mine,” Hunt practically whispered. “You’ve had a lot on your mind lately. You’ve dealt with it the best way that you knew how to deal with it.”

  “But, I hurt you by closing you off,” she said.

  “I knew that you’d open up eventually,” he said quietly, just before he lightly kissed her forehead. “Or at least, I hoped that you would.”

  Maggie pulled Hunt’s head down. She kissed him. He returned the kiss. Long moments later, he gently held her away from him.


  “You aren’t well enough, Maggie,” he told her reluctantly.

  Maggie laughed softly. “Will you just stop telling me how I feel?” she demanded quietly. “And please stop making decisions for us without consulting me. I am half this family, in case you have forgotten.”

  Hunt smiled at her. This sounded more like the old Maggie. He hugged her tightly.

  She pulled herself from his arms and stood. Holding out her right hand to him, she said gently, “I’m going to bed, Hunter. Will you join me?”

  Hunt reached out and took her hand. He stood looking at her for a long moment. “Baby, are you sure?”

  Maggie nodded mutely.

  Hunt sat up in the early morning light with his back against the headboard of the bed just looking at his wife who lay beside him. He knew that he would never grow tired of looking at her.

  Maggie stirred. “Good morning,” she said with a blush staining her cheeks.

  “You haven’t slept that long,” Hunt said gently. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep.”

  Maggie shook her head negatively. “Michael is leaving today. I ought to spend some time with him. After he and Susan have gone, we can come back to the bed.”

  Hunt smiled at her, broadly.

  Maggie blushed even brighter. “Hunt!” she protested quietly. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “Pity,” he teased, just before he kissed her hard on the mouth. “How’s your hip?”

  “Don’t worry about it. The doctor said that I was supposed to work it.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that this was what he meant.”

  Maggie laughed. “I love you, Hunt.”

  “I doubt that I will ever grow tired of hearing that.”

  “I hope not, husband.”

  “A physiotherapist will be here starting tomorrow to put you through the exercises several times a day,” Hunt told her.

  “Do you think that is necessary?”

  Hunt smiled. “Probably not. But, Michael had already made the arrangements. He’s worried about you. This is something that he wants to do for you.”

  “Then, how can I refuse?”

  “Come on, beautiful. Out of bed, if you want to get out of bed today.”

  She smiled at him. “We can catch up on our sleep later, love.”

  Hunt rose from bed. Maggie lay there looking at his nude form as he went into the bathroom.

  She heard the bath water run.

  “Do you still want to take a bath?” Hunt asked from the bathroom doorway.

  “Sounds heavenly. That tub is pretty big, as I recall. Want to join me?”

  “Wanton,” Hunt charged with a laugh as he crossed over to her, apparently completely comfortable with his nakedness.

  “It’s amazing, the things that I am learning about myself,” she replied with a smile.

  “Heaven forbid that I should be standing in the way of self-discovery.”

  Maggie smiled as she rose from the bed and stood before her husband. She wrapped her arms around him. “Who said that you were standing in the way of anything, Hunt?”

  Chapter 16

  Hunt and Maggie walked into the formal living room to find Susan and Michael there. Michael was reading a report of one of his election consultants. Susan was drinking a cup of coffee and reading a computer journal.

  “Good morning,” Maggie said, announcing their arrival.

  Michael looked at them. Maggie was leaning on Hunt’s arm instead of walking with a cane. He smiled.

  Susan also looked up. Something like concern flashed in her eyes, but only momentarily. “It’s Louis’ day off. We’ve been waiting breakfast for you. Do you still like the Swiss Almond Chocolate coffee which you used to be so fond of, Margaret?”

  Maggie smiled. “I’m surprised that you remember.”

  “I actually have a very good memory, Margaret. Shall we adjourn to the dining room? Breakfast will be ready in a matter of minutes,” Susan urged as she rose from the sofa.

  Hunt, Maggie, and Michael sat around the table talking. Smells of cooking bacon drifted into the room from the kitchen. Susan brought in a big platter of waffles and a pitcher of warm maple syrup.

  “I’ll have the bacon and coffee in just a few minutes,” Michael’s wife said quietly.

  After Susan returned to the kitchen, Hunt followed her, to lend a hand and to give Maggie a couple of minutes alone with her stepfather.

  Walking into the kitchen, Hunt saw Susan begin to pour a glass container of a solution into a small silver coffee pot.

  “What is that?” Hunt asked.

  Susan turned around rapidly, shooting him an angry look. She tried to hide the vial behind her back.

  Hunt crossed the room to her. He pulled her arm out from behind her back. The vial was unlabeled.

  “What is this?” he demanded harshly.

  Susan placed the vial on the counter before she struck out at him. He blocked the blow.

  “Michael!” Hunt yelled.

  Susan struck at him again and again. But, her ineffectual blows bounced off of him.

  “What is going on here?” Michael thundered from the doorway.

  “She was putting something into Maggie’s coffee,” Hunt said as he took several steps back from the woman. He no longer trusted himself not to be violent with anyone trying to harm Maggie. “The vial is on the counter.”

  Michael looked at his wife, then he looked at the vial on the counter. “What is in the vial, Susan Elizabeth?” Michael demanded.

  Hunt watched Susan cringe at her husband’s tone. “I have no idea. The first I saw of it was when he took it out of his pocket.”

  Michael tensed. “You are lying, Susan.”

  “What’s going on?” Maggie asked from just behind Michael.

  “Your husband is trying to break up my marriage,” Susan accused loudly.

  Maggie squeezed around Michael. She limped to Hunt. “Darling?”

  “I stopped Susan from putting the contents of that vial into your coffee,” Hunt informed her.

  “What vial?” Maggie asked.

  “This one,” Susan said firmly as she picked up the vial. Susan looked at each of their faces. Then, before anyone could stop her, she drank almost the entire contents.

  Michael crossed the room to his wife and knocked the nearly empty vial from her hand, sending the glass to the quarry tile floor. “What was in that vial?” he demanded, grabbing her arms. “What was in that vial?” he repeated, shaking her. “Tell me!”

  “Thallium, in an aqueous suspension,” Susan replied. Her wild laughter chilled Maggie to the bone.

  Hunt looked at a very pale Maggie. “Maggie mine?” he asked.

  Maggie’s eyes remained fixed on Susan. “Why, Susan? Why have you done this to yourself?”

  Susan turned her head to look at Maggie. The pure hatred Maggie had often felt coming from Susan, in a masked form, was there in Susan’s face for everyone to read clearly. “This was meant for you. But, since that nosy husband of yours was making a stink about this, I knew that I my future was gone. Now, I just don’t have to watch the years go by from a prison cell. Now, Michael will still have a chance to be elected. Think of the sympathy vote. ‘Poor man’, the average voter will think, ‘his wife died after a lingering illness.’”

  “You know that there is no antidote? The dose is lethal?”

  “It was calculated to be. And since you are taller than I am, even though I didn’t get all of it down, it should do the job,” Susan replied coldly.

  Michael let go of his wife as the import of her words sank in. “You’ve just committed suicide?” he asked, sounding bewildered. “And you were going to murder Daisy? Why?”

  “Why?” Susan answered, her voice high, nearly hysterically. “Why? She’s a threat to our marriage. As long as she is around, you are never going to give our marriage the kind of dedication that it deserves. She reminds you too much of her mother. You sent her away once because you couldn’t stand to be around her after her mothe
r died. Her pretty face reminded you too much of the woman whom you loved. If she had been of age, you would have married her when her mother died. You’ve never really loved me, not like you should have.

  “And it is her fault! Because you are hung up on her. That’s why I tried to kill her years ago. But, she’s got more luck than a cat. Her musician boyfriend was the one who died. And I really messed up when I hired those men to kidnap her. I should have briefed them more thoroughly about her abilities. I should have had them kill her straight off, then send the message to the papers.”

  Hunt steadied Maggie.

  Michael looked at his wife in stunned disbelief.

  “Oh, Susan,” Maggie said sadly. “I’d love to be able to hate you for this. But, I can only feel sorry for you.” Tears fell from Maggie’s eyes. “Do you know the kind of horrible death that you are going to face?”

  Susan nodded tightly. “But, at least, I won’t face charges and public humiliation. Of the two, this is the lesser evil,” the older woman said. Then she rushed from the room.

  Michael started to follow her. Then he stopped, sat down at the kitchen table. Maggie crossed the room, leaning on Hunt’s arm, and took a seat at the table. She took Michael’s hand.

  Her stepfather looked at her. For the first time that Maggie could remember, Michael looked every one of his sixty-nine-years, and then some. “Daisy . . . .” he said painfully. “How long does she have?”

  “Weeks, maybe. That poison works on the musculature, if I am remembering correctly. She’ll be in a lot of pain. She’ll lose her hair. And eventually, there’ll be paralysis, coma, and death. It’s a horrible death. I can’t believe that she is doing this to herself. I can’t believe that she wanted to do that to me,” Maggie said.

  Michael looked at her with horror on his face. He shook his head. “Oh, Daisy. What have I done to you?”

  “You aren’t responsible for her actions,” Hunt told Maggie’s stepfather.

  Michael looked at Maggie. “Are you certain about the poison?”

  “I might be wrong about the symptoms. Poisons aren’t my strong suit. But, I do know that thallium is a delayed action poison for which there is no antidote. Thallium! God’s mercy!”