A cervical collar was slipped around her neck and strong hands maneuvered her onto a backboard.
“Ms. Reagan? Can you talk to me?”
She was being lifted. She wanted to go back to sleep, where she was safe. Something was terribly wrong.
Bryce and Winston.
Chapter Forty-One
Cyrus Mosley and Lee McNamara had a standoff at the foot of Grace’s hospital bed. If her head hadn’t hurt so much, she would have laughed. The police chief won, but just barely.
“I’ll be in the hall, Grace,” Mosley said. “Unless you’d reconsider my offer?”
“I don’t need a lawyer, Cyrus,” Grace sighed. “But thank you. I need to talk to Chief McNamara alone.”
Mosley narrowed his eyes but said nothing more as he left the room.
“He seems to be worried about you and he has a right to be,” McNamara said as he pulled up a chair and settled where Grace could maintain eye contact without moving her head. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“Like the devil,” she said and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears that welled up. In addition to the lacerations on her face, her left shoulder had been dislocated, her wrist was sprained and she had a cracked rib. She’d made it to the bathroom with the help of a nurse, only to discover that the bathroom had a mirror. The sight of her battered body had made her throw up.
“I’m so sorry.”
McNamara’s soft voice broke the last of her reserve. He found a box of tissues on the counter and pressed a wad into her hand.
“I thought he was going to rape me,” she said when she could finally speak. “The doctor said he didn’t. But he did give me something that made me pass out and when I came to, I couldn’t move and they’d wrapped me up and I couldn’t move and …”
“Wait now, slow down.” This time McNamara got her a small bottle of water. When she’d had a few sips, he said, “Tell me who ‘he’ is.”
“Bryce Cutter.”
The surprise on McNamara’s face made her cry harder. “I know,” she sobbed. “I was so shocked. I mean, looking back, I think I knew as soon as I got sick that he’d put something in the wine.”
“You said ‘they’ had wrapped you up. Who else was there?”
Anger made her voice stronger. “Winston did this,” she pointed to her mouth. “I don’t know what else he did, but Bryce told him my injuries would be hard to explain and to leave me alone. He even hit Winston. I passed out again before I learned what they were doing.”
McNamara wrote for a moment before saying, “Well, Grace, this is odd. Bryce and your cousin are the ones who found you and called 911. Bryce is in the waiting room and has been since you were brought in. He’s driving the staff crazy, but I told them no one was to see you until I got here. I didn’t reckon on Cyrus as a pit bull guard, but I don’t think anyone else has been in here.”
Grace tried to gather her thoughts. She had to make McNamara believe her. Finally, she said, “You remember I’m an attorney, right?”
McNamara nodded.
“I’m admitted to practice in Maryland, Virginia, and the District of Columbia. You know that means I am an Officer of the Court. I have a responsibility to report a crime. Unless I screw up big time, a judge is going to take my word.”
It seemed important to remind McNamara - and herself - of her credentials. She was broken and battered and confined to a hospital bed without so much as her own underwear. She had to make him believe her.
She said, “Bryce Cutter showed up at my house and surprised me. He’d brought … oh, God!” The drapes. Your neighbors are mostly old and far enough away they can’t hear anything. He’d made sure they wouldn’t see anything either.
“Grace?” McNamara put a large, warm hand over her bruised one.
She told him about the fabric and the picnic dinner. The bitter wine. “Bryce may have had a sip, but I don’t remember him drinking. At first, he was fine. Then I started getting sick. He grabbed me. I fought and got away, but when I stood up, I was so dizzy. It was awful. I vomited all over myself. The nurse told me between the mess and the emergency room treatment, everything I had on was ruined.” For some reason, losing her clothes upset her as much as her injuries. She clutched at the neck of the hospital gown.
“I woke up in the basement, wrapped up in the blanket he’d brought for the picnic. It was like I was swaddled. And I couldn’t get out because my hands and feet were so heavy and my left arm wouldn’t work. It hurt so much, I kept passing out. I was scared I would vomit again and choke.”
“Take a minute,” McNamara said.
But Grace wanted to get it all out. “At one point, I was dreaming and Winston slapped me awake. Split my lip. I think he wanted to kill me. Bryce wouldn’t let him, but then said it was all my fault. Said he’d tried to be nice. When I woke up again, the paramedics were there, but I was on the concrete at the foot of the basement steps and the blanket was gone.”
McNamara wrote as she talked. When she finished he said, “Why would Cutter and your cousin do this?”
He didn’t believe her. He had to believe her. She said, “I don’t know. Not for sure. But Bryce insisted I hire Winston. And that I take him back after I fired him the first time. Bryce was always taking up for him. After the fire I found Winston arguing with Bryce in the kitchen. Just as I walked in, I heard Bryce tell Winston if he ever pulled a stunt like that again, Bryce would kill him. No!” It was important to get it right. “Bryce said, ‘if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make it your last.’ I thought he meant the fire and the graffiti on the kitchen walls. Now I think there’s a lot more to it than Winston vandalizing the house.”
“Like what?” McNamara asked. He was writing down everything she said and she wanted to hug him for that. For listening.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But Bryce is tied to Winston somehow.”
“Grace, you yourself said Bryce stopped Winston from killing you. And he called 911.”
“But Bryce poisoned me!” she hated that her voice went into a panicked pitch. “He was going to rape me. If I hadn’t thrown up on myself - wait, I’ll bet I got him, too! Make him show you his clothes!”
“Are you alright?” The door flew open and Mosley was at Grace’s bedside. “That’s enough, Chief.”
“No, Cyrus, please. I have to make him understand.”
“Grace, please calm down.” McNamara patted her hand. “I do believe you mean every word you say. And I want you to rest easy. You’re safe here and I promise you everything will be fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He stood. “Counselor, could I see you in the hallway, please?”
Grace watched them go, the policeman who wasn’t sure she was sane and the old man who’d appointed himself her bodyguard. Reality was too hard to deal with. She closed her eyes and faded away.
On the other side of the door, McNamara and Mosley struck a deal.
“I can’t believe you!”
Grace winced. Even after a night of IVs and painkillers, she was in no shape to defend herself, so looking pitiful was what she went with. It didn’t work on Niki.
“Winnie and Bryce tried to save your life, even after you fired Winnie and lied about him. You had too much wine and fell down the stairs. Why can’t you admit it?”
The nurses who pestered her every time she went to sleep and the officer who peered in each time the door opened all seemed to be okay with screaming visitors in her room. Grace searched in vain for the call button. She finally gave up and answered Niki.
“I won’t admit it because that isn’t what happened. Didn’t you notice the police officer in the hall? Bryce drugged me and assaulted me. Your brother only assaulted me, if that makes you feel any better.” Apparently, she had two weapons - looking pitiful and her mouth. She felt a little better.
Niki moved closer to the side of her bed, her face etched with worry. “Grace, I’m sorry you’re hurt, however it happened. I want you to come home with me and I’ll take care of you. You don’t n
eed the police. Tell them it’s all a mistake and let’s go.”
Grace thought she’d sooner stay in the basement at Delaney House. At least there she knew all the dangers were. Most of them, anyway.
“Thanks,” she said, “but I’ll keep the police protection. As soon as I can walk without falling down, they’ll discharge me and I’ll go back to DC for a few days.” She was going to the Egret Inn and live off room service for a week, but she didn’t see any need to tell Niki.
“Where in DC? You’ve sublet your condo. And you shouldn’t be alone.”
“Because I’m so safe here?” Grace had had enough. “I should come stay with you where your brother who used me for a punching bag and your parents who accused me of stealing Emma’s jewelry can have another go at me?”
“That’s not true.” But Niki’s downcast eyes and tightly clasped hands undermined her words.
“I am so sorry to hurt you. Again.” Grace struggled for words. “I want… I want to be your cousin, your family. I appreciate that you accepted me and took me in. I’m not ending our relationship. If that happens, it’s your choice. But I’m telling you, Bryce and Winston are dangerous. They’re working together and they’re dangerous. They nearly killed me, Niki.”
Niki’s head came up. “No! Not Bryce.” She turned away but paused in the doorway. Her eyes glittering with tears, she said, “Take care of yourself.”
After she was gone, Grace thought about all the possible reasons why Niki would defend Bryce but not her own brother.
July 1, 1960
Dearest Mother and Papa,
We are all fine, so don’t worry. I know I sounded miserable on the phone yesterday and I am so sorry about that. You are right, Papa. I have to stop caterwauling, as you so aptly put it. The baby is precious. Our sweet Fiona here at last. Even if Ford insists we call her Julia, we know who she is, don’t we?
I swear to you I was doing well up until Clancy died and now I can’t seem to stop crying. Poor old soul. He stayed until my little girl was home safe and sound before his big heart gave out. I could have borne it better if Ford hadn’t made such a fuss about having to bury him in the woods, but as you pointed out, Papa, he was the one who had to do all the work. He could have hired a laborer, of course, but he said the whole affair was tacky and the fewer people who knew about it the better.
Well, it might be ‘country’ as Ford put it, to bury your animals on your property, but I wasn’t sending my Clancy to the dump which is what Ford wanted to do. Can you believe it? Sometimes I think my husband is from another species. And, no, Mother, it’s not the ‘baby blues’ talking. That’s my life with Ford. He is a difficult man to live with sometimes. Most times, to be truthful.
I have a non-baby reason for being blue: Audrey has cut all ties with me. I know you don’t think that’s a bad thing, Mother, and really, we’ve grown so far apart, I’m not as surprised as I would have been even a few months ago. But still, I miss her company and she kept me up on the social circuit while I’m confined to the nursery circuit. I don’t know what happened. The last few times we talked before Julia was born, she was distant but pleasant. She even played with the boys a bit. Then she started cutting me short when I’d catch her on the phone or out in town. Now she won’t return my calls. So, I suppose that’s that. I thought we’d be best friends forever, but it seems you were right, Mother. We are just too different.
Julia will be awake soon, so I will hurry and close with some happy news. The boys are adjusting well to their sister. The baby nurse seems to love the boys, but after the first week announced she couldn’t handle all three children. So, I have moved Julia into our room (which is what I wanted, anyway) and Ford has huffed off to sleep in one of the guest rooms where we won’t bother him. The nurse is now a nanny, and she keeps the boys occupied when they aren’t in school. They love having someone at their beck and call, and I love being able to sleep and play with my baby. I’m fine if I don’t think about Clancy. It is all getting better, I promise.
The girls from the Garden Club are coming over tomorrow to bring a picnic lunch and meet Julia. Should be lots of fun. Normal, see? Don’t worry.
Love,
Your silly daughter, Emma
Chapter Forty-Two
Her head finally cleared, and she felt stronger after another day of hospital care and the security of an officer posted at her door. Even though she was tormented by nurses, she could walk straight without help and was occasionally able to sleep without nightmares. She knew she was ready to be discharged when the hospital social worker showed up. Are you in an abusive relationship? Do you need a safe place to stay? Do you want an advocate? Grace wanted to say ‘yes’ to everything, but instead gave the kind woman answers which would send her on her way, all her forms completed with the proper boxes checked.
As the social worker was leaving, a hospital aide arrived with a delivery from a dress shop in Easton. Cyrus Mosley might have arrested taste in his own fashion, but he’d purchased a simple and stylish outfit of velvet leggings and a matching tunic for her. There was a bad moment when Grace saw panties and a bra in the bottom of the box, but then she found a business card stapled to the tissue paper. Someone named Lily Travers had done the shopping and sent her best wishes. Whoever Lily was, she was amazing. Everything fit.
At some point since her arrival, Avril had delivered her leather tote. It had appeared during one of her many naps, along with a note scrawled in a spidery, arthritic hand. Call me if you need me. Grace prayed that wouldn’t be necessary. Just having her bag made her feel better.
Her small makeup clutch yielded moisturizer, mascara and lipstick. A comb and two clips tamed the wild nest of her hair and caught it in a tidy twist. Nothing could help her swollen and bruised mouth, but she no longer looked like a refugee. Her benefactor arrived as she was signing the last form for her discharge.
“Well, someone’s better,” Mosley said as he laid a huge bouquet of roses on the table by her bed and set a large shopping bag on the floor.
“I should,” Grace said. “I have a lovely new outfit. I can’t thank you enough. I’ll repay you, of course.”
He waved away her words. “Avril called and told me she’d looked through your closet at Delaney House, but nothing was loose enough for your injuries. She did find some shoes and your coat, though.” He gestured to the bag. “Your laptop’s in there, too. Avril said you’d want it.”
“Please, thank her for me.” Grace made a mental note to change the locks. Her house had more keys out in the universe than she’d realized, and no security system worked if you couldn’t set it.
“What’s wrong?” Mosley asked, drawing her attention back to his worried face.
“Nothing. Thank you for going to all that trouble.” She had a sudden image of Cyrus and Avril conspiring to pick her wardrobe and gave him a lop-sided smile with the uninjured side of her mouth.
“Excellent!” Mosley said. “You stay in a good frame of mind. Positivity is important to healing. And I heard you were going back to DC to recover. That’s a good plan. Gives us time to figure out what’s happening here. No sense exposing yourself to any further risk unnecessarily.”
Grace found herself getting teary and decided the pain medication was still in her system. She let him fuss over her and tried to distract herself by wondering how long he’d had the orange windowpane checked golf shirt he wore with his ubiquitous khakis and penny loafers. Did he have a storage room with an unlimited supply of leisurewear from the eighties?
It took a minute or two before her normal thought process kicked in. “So when did you talk to Niki?” she asked. The beauty of only lying to one person was she knew who’d spread the news of her purported departure.
Mosley didn’t blink. She thought they might be getting used to each other. “I went by your house to check on things. Niki saw me in the driveway and stopped to ask if I was in charge of the house since you were leaving.”
A wave of disappointment rolled over Grace.
She was still hoping for a relationship with Niki.
“And what did you tell her?”
“I told her yes, I was. I saw no need to let the world know there wouldn’t be anyone to oversee a vacant house. I flattered myself in assuming you wouldn’t mind.”
To her surprise, she found it didn’t. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll be back in a week or so. Could you handle getting the keys from Bryce? I’ll talk to Henry and see if he’s willing to keep the job going with Bryce banned from the premises, but I suspect I’ll need a new contractor.”
“I can handle that. But there is another option.”
“Okay,” she drew the word out into a question.
“You can sell right now. I have a buyer and the price is excellent.”
She might have known. The disappointment wasn’t as strong as what she’d felt for Niki, but Mosley had been growing on her and once again she’d been fooled. He had a buyer, which meant a commission. Every man for himself.
“How excellent is excellent?” she asked.
He named a price more than twice the appraised value of the property and the money she’d put into it so far. Despite her skepticism, she perked up. She could recuperate in Ireland. Or Italy. Or both.
“Who would want it that badly?” she asked.
He didn’t hesitate. “I do.”
Her travel bubble burst. “Good God, Cyrus! First, you shell out a fortune to repair the damage from Winston’s leak and now you’re trying to rush me out of town and buy the house. Why?” She’d misjudged him, but he was hiding something.
“I’m very motivated,” Mosley asked. “I don’t have a family, but I’ve watched over your mother and Stark and you children from the day each of you was born.”
“You’d pay me twice what the house is worth because you want to help me.” She said it flatly, her disbelief clear.
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