Killing Lies

by Desiree Holt

  “We’ll more than make up for it.” Sarah hugged him. “From now on, every Christmas will be special.”

  Christmas was a joyous celebration. They opened presents in the morning, watching Molly’s unrestrained pleasure in everything. Then they all, including her parents and Tony, trooped out to Cibolo for a holiday feast at the Vanetta ranch.

  They celebrated New Year’s very quietly, not wanting to share this first one with anyone. At midnight, they toasted each other with champagne.

  “To our wonderful life,” Reno said.

  “The best,” Sarah agreed.

  They looked at each other with feelings of deep satisfaction and pleasure, aware of how blessed they were with a love that grew more each day.

  “The land is cleared,” she told Reno one night after a trip out to the property, unable to contain her excitement. Her eyes danced, and she couldn’t stop smiling. “Oh, it looks so wonderful. And they have the house staked out to give us the best view. Right on the crest of the hill.”

  “Did the builder say when they’d be pouring the concrete?”

  “Tomorrow.” Sarah felt like a kid at Christmas. “It’s going to be just fantastic.”

  Two or three times each week, she bundled Molly into the car and drove out to the site, checking progress and meeting with the builder. And of course, there was a never-ending array of things to select—paint, flooring, fixtures, counters, appliances. The list went on and on. Reno was busier at the office than ever. Guardian had three new projects going. Still, he managed to steal time here and there when Sarah needed him. Some nights, they were so tired they just crawled into bed, looked at each other and fell asleep.

  Sitting at the kitchen table one morning, sipping the last of her coffee, she was reviewing everything in her mind. The house was quiet. Reno had gone to the office for a rare Saturday meeting, and Molly was with Nicki. The teenager had picked her up earlier to take her to a birthday party for one of the myriad Vanetta nieces and nephews. Sarah had looked forward to this time to do some uninterrupted work, but her mind kept wandering.

  Since the week in the cabin, their marriage had been incredible—warm, passionate, loving. Reno was more open with her in every way than he’d ever been to anyone in his life. He had torn down walls he’d spent years erecting, reaching out to make her a part of himself. It was everything she could want. Almost.

  Now and then she allowed herself a moment of sadness for the fact she’d never conceive a child herself. Then she reminded herself how lucky she was to have Molly.

  Sighing, she drained her coffee cup and placed it in the dishwasher.

  Be grateful for what you have.

  ****

  Time seemed to be passing so swiftly now with the activities that consumed each day. Before they knew it, their first anniversary was approaching, and Reno wanted them to do something special.

  “Not go away,” he said quickly. “I know the timing isn’t right for that. But think about some place you’ve always wanted to go for dinner. Or something we can do that’s always been on your wish list.”

  “You spoil me.” She kissed him. “I’ll give it some thought, okay? And try to come up with some suggestions.”

  At that moment, though, she was so tired nothing appealed to her. And deadlines were looming. The house was nearly complete. All it needed were the last finishing touches. Then they would call the movers and put her house up for sale. They’d decided to take their time shopping for furniture, using hers in the interim. She knew Reno was anxious to actually be settled at last, and she was doing her best to get ready.

  Sarah was so relieved he was willing to wait on the furniture she could have wept. The thought of more shopping, more choosing, exhausted her. A fatigue enveloped her that she just couldn’t seem to shake. She’d felt it for days. Then one morning, she woke up and couldn’t drag herself out of bed.

  “I think I have the flu.” She had just thrown up for the third time. “It’s been going around. Remember when Nicki had it? What with all the moving around and everything, I just realized I forgot to get my flu shot. I don’t think I’ll be up to much celebrating on our anniversary. I’m so sorry.”

  Reno, concern lining his face, brought her some tea and made her lie down with a cold cloth on her forehead. “The important thing is for you to get well. You’ve worn yourself out with moving and working on the new house. I should have seen what was happening and put the brakes on.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” she protested. “If I had just gotten that stupid flu shot, I’d be all right.”

  Molly was bouncing up and down in her crib, babbling her familiar sounds.

  “I have to get up.” Sarah tried to sit up without much success. “Molly needs to be dressed and fed.”

  Reno forced her back down to the pillow. “I’ll manage. You’re in no condition to do anything.”

  “But you don’t—”

  “I can do it.” He smiled at her thinly. “I run a company with massive projects. I should be able to take care of one small child.”

  “Come get me if you need help,” she called in a weak voice.

  He headed down the hall, his body unnaturally stiff. She worried about how he’d deal with being forced into the situation, but she was too sick to care. She put her head on the pillow and fell asleep at once.

  When she woke, she was nauseous again and stumbled to the bathroom. Reno must have heard her because he was upstairs and beside her in what seemed like seconds. He helped her back to bed, wiped her face, and gave her some water to drink.

  “Can you hold anything in your stomach?” His face was taut with worry.

  “Some tea, maybe. I’ll come downstairs if you’ll help me.”

  “Not on your life. I can fix a cup of tea, and I’ll bring some crackers—one thing my mother was always good at was treating the sick. Crackers and tea, her cure for everything. Then I’m going to take you in the shower with me, and when we get out, I’ll change the sheets. You have to feel sticky.”

  “Where’s Molly?” she asked, her forehead creased with anxiety.

  “In bed asleep.”

  “Did you find everything for her okay? What did you do about breakfast and lunch? And how did you handle her all morning?”

  “Everything was fine. She’s very good, which helps a lot. I may not have fed her what you would have, but we made out all right.”

  She tried to smile at his mild attempt at humor. “Nicki can come in after school and help.”

  “Let’s wait and see how you feel tomorrow. If you’re still sick, I just might call her.”

  The shower felt good. She was grateful to have the sour feeling of nausea washed away. Reno was very gentle with her, holding her while he bathed her, sitting her on the vanity so he could dry her and put on a fresh gown. He placed her in the slipper chair while he did a hasty job of bed making then carried her over and laid her down with the pillows fluffed under her head.

  “I know I’ll be better tomorrow.” She tried to subdue the nausea that never seemed to leave her. “And you have to go to work. I know how busy it is when you take on new projects.”

  “I do believe they’re learning how to get along without me.” He grinned. “What a blow to my ego. Nick doesn’t miss a beat, just picks up whatever slack he needs to. I told them to expect me when I show up. Quit worrying about everything, and let me take care of things. That’s an order.”

  She sank back on the pillows, thankful to leave everything in his hands. She drank another cup of tea and promptly fell asleep again.

  But the next morning, she wasn’t any better. The nausea hit her as soon as she opened her eyes. Reno held her head, wiping her face and holding a glass of water so she could rinse her mouth. She kept down tea and crackers then slept. She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open, which was a blessing because when she was asleep at least she didn’t throw up.

  In moments of wakefulness, she wondered how Reno was surviving with Molly. He was out of bed instantly ea
ch morning when he heard her voice, his face set in granite but determination in every line of his body. He had taken her advice and called Nicki, who blessedly came in each day after school.

  Sarah strained to hear the noises of the house, expecting disaster, but all she heard was Molly’s familiar giggle and Reno’s deep voice. She wanted to get up and help, but she barely had the strength to make it to the bathroom and back. Nicki was now coming in right after school and staying until Molly was in bed for the night.

  “Are you doing okay with her in the morning?” Sarah asked one evening, full of anxiety. She had been sick for four days now and didn’t seem to be getting any better. She knew Reno was increasingly worried about her.

  “We haven’t had any disasters yet,” he told her. “Everything is fine.”

  She knew what a supreme effort it was for him and ached for the internal struggle she was sure he was having. What a situation.

  By the fifth day, she was beginning to feel a little better. She wasn’t racked with nausea all the time, and she could keep down some broth as well as tea and crackers. She was lying on the pillows in the late afternoon, wondering if she should try and get up, when she heard a crash and a scream from downstairs. Her blood chilled and panic clutched at her. The scream was Molly’s.

  She forced herself up from the bed, found her robe, and made her way downstairs, clinging to the banister and hoping she didn’t pass out. Molly was still screaming and over that sound she heard Nicki’s scared voice, and Reno’s, tense but in command.

  She leaned into the doorframe in the kitchen, supporting herself and shaking at what she saw. The highchair was lying on the floor, glass and blood were everywhere, and Reno was holding Molly. Blood was spurting from her arm at an alarming rate. Nicki had grabbed dishtowels and was trying to apply pressure.

  “That’s arterial blood,” Sarah whispered, her voice shaky with fear. “She needs a tourniquet.”

  Dizzy and weak yet somehow finding the strength to move, she grabbed another towel and twirled it to form a wide strip. With Reno helping, she placed it around Molly’s arm, tying it over the other towels to form a pressure pad.

  “Hold her arm up,” she ordered. She tried not to look at the long, deep cut on the little arm. “Did you call 9-1-1?”

  “I’m taking her right to the emergency room,” Reno said, his jaw clenched. “The hospital isn’t very far.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Sarah told him.

  “Sarah, you’re sick and you can hardly stand up. Besides, you can’t run around in a nightgown. Please get back in bed.”

  “Nicki.” She turned to the terrified teenager, forcing a strength she didn’t feel. “Grab my raincoat, would you? It’s spring, for heaven’s sake. It’s already balmy here. And my shoes, too. Hurry. I’m going. I want to be with her. Nicki. Go now.” Somehow, she found the strength to hold it together, but barely.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Sullivan,” Nicki said, twisting her hands. “It’s all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not,” Reno insisted. “I was here, too. But right now, we need to get to the emergency room. Help me get them both in the car. You’d better come, too.”

  Reno drove like a madman, honking his horn at every vehicle in his way. Nicki was wedged in the front seat between them, helping Sarah with Molly, keeping the bleeding arm raised. They both tried not to notice how pale the little girl was. Sarah’s own discomfort was forgotten for the moment as she focused on the emergency at hand.

  “I was irresponsible,” Reno said, anguished. “I should have paid better attention. We had her in her highchair, but I didn’t check to make sure she was securely strapped in. I know she tries to stand up in it all the time. I’ve seen her do it.”

  “Did she just fall?”

  “I had a glass of soda on the counter,” Nicki said miserably. “Molly reached for it. Lost her balance, and she and the highchair both fell, pulling the glass with them. When she landed, a jagged edge cut her arm.” She was caressing the little girl’s face, wiping her tears, trying to soothe her. “I’m a terrible baby-sitter. I wouldn’t blame you if you fired me.”

  “Nicki, accidents happen with children.” Sarah tried to sound reassuring, but she was fighting back a new wave of nausea and dizziness. “You do the best you can and pray about everything else.”

  Reno pulled up to the emergency entrance, slammed the car in Park, and ran around to take the baby from them. He was already racing into the reception area when Sarah struggled out of the car.

  I will not faint. I will not be sick.

  Sarah clenched her jaw and exerted as much control as she could muster. Reno could worry about her later. The baby came first.

  Nicki helped her inside, and she collapsed into the chair nearest the door.

  The emergency room was in chaos, people hurrying everywhere, voices raised. Although the seating area was full of people waiting their turn, rules and regulations didn’t exist for Reno Sullivan. People seldom argued with him about anything. With his usual expectation of compliance, he carried Molly up to the desk, corralled a nurse who yelled at once for a doctor, and they all disappeared into a curtained area.

  Sarah sat huddled into the chair, letting the noise swirl around her, holding her coat to her for warmth. Nicki stood next to her, wringing her hands, unsure what to do next. Sarah could see the teenager was running on nerves at this point. She wondered if anyone would come and tell her anything.

  The combined odors of illness and medicine were threatening her fragile hold on her heaving stomach. She kept her eyes closed, calling on what little strength she had to survive this without passing out or throwing up on the hospital floor. Reno was right, she shouldn’t have come, but she couldn’t have let him take Molly without her.

  All she could think was what a mess.

  Sarah was leaning back with her eyes closed, willing the nausea to go away, when a gentle hand touched her arm and a soft voice said, “Mrs. Sullivan?”

  She pried open her eyes.

  A nurse was beside her with a wheelchair. “Mr. Sullivan is worried to death about you. He says you have a bad case of the flu. It’s sure been going around. He wants a doctor to take a look at you. Come on, let me help you into the wheelchair.” She smiled reassuringly. “If you pass out on the floor here, it doesn’t make us look too good.”

  “Molly?”

  “Your little girl’s being taken care of. The doctor’s with her and so is your husband.”

  “The bleeding?” Sarah was almost afraid to ask.

  “They’ve got it under control. I’m just going to get you into an area here, then tell them where you are. Someone will come and let you know what’s happening real quick.”

  “Is it all right if I go call my mother?” Nicki asked, after helping the nurse with Sarah. She was fighting back the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes.

  Sarah nodded as she was wheeled away. In a minute, she was lying down in a treatment area, being covered with a blanket, the privacy curtain pulled around her. She felt the nausea rise again and with great effort fought it back. She was trying to get herself under control when someone pulled the curtain aside, and Reno was there with the doctor.

  “Where’s Molly?” she asked, her voice thin and thready.

  “She’ll be fine,” the doctor said. His nametag read R. Moreland, M.D. “The nurse is with her at the moment. We’ve stopped the bleeding and put an inflatable tourniquet on her. I gave her some light medication for the pain so she’s more comfortable. While she’s calm, I thought we’d come here and bring you up to date. Nasty, nasty cut, but we’re taking care of it.”

  Reno stood next to Sarah and gripped her hand. She could feel the nervous tension vibrating through his body.

  “We have a plastic surgeon coming to stitch her up,” Dr. Moreland continued, “so she won’t have much of a scar. We will want to give her a general anesthetic, though. Otherwise, the suturing can be quite traumatic for her, since the cut’s so deep. Your husba
nd wanted me to check with you before he signed the papers.”

  Sarah could only nod.

  The doctor handed Reno a clipboard with forms attached, and Reno scrawled his name.

  “We also will need to give her some blood. She’s lost quite a lot, and we don’t want to run into other problems during the surgery. We prefer to check the parents first before using our own supplies. We always prefer family, if possible.” He looked at Sarah critically. “Not you, my dear.” It was apparent he was unaware of the situation. “I think right now you need all you’ve got.”

  “Molly isn’t my biological child anyway,” Sarah told him, “although our blood type might be compatible. I’ve never checked.”

  Reno’s face tightened in embarrassment that he didn’t know this simple fact. “I’m sure it’s in her medical records at the pediatrician’s, but I never paid attention enough to ask.”

  “No matter. Your wife’s in no shape right now to be a donor under any circumstances. But the lab tech is right here, so Mr. Sullivan, I guess you’re it.”

  Reno opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and swallowed hard. “Actually, I’m not her biological parent either.”

  “Then this is an adoption?” the doctor asked. “Well, let’s test you anyway. If you have the right blood type, you can still be a donor.”

  He nodded, his face rigid, and Sarah squeezed his hand weakly, trying to give him assurance. He looked so uptight she was afraid he’d break apart any minute.

  A technician entered with all his paraphernalia. He was quick and efficient and, in just seconds, handed a vial of Reno’s blood to a waiting lab messenger.

  “I’m going to see if the surgeon’s come down yet.” Dr. Moreland looked at Reno. “The nurse has been with your daughter since we sedated her, but you might want to come with me, Mr. Sullivan, in case she’s at all aware. Just to reassure her until we take her to surgery.”

  Reno was torn, wanting to be two places at once.

  “I’ll be all right,” Sarah told him. “Please go be with Molly.”

  The lab tech had moved to the bed to stand next to Sarah.