Heartbeat

by Joan Johnston

  Lisa brushed at Amy’s bangs, apparently unable to take her eyes off the child that had been miraculously restored to her and asked, “Does this mean she’s going to be all right, Roman? That she’s going to recover completely?”

  Roman nodded, and Maggie realized he was too overcome with emotion to speak.

  “She’s going to be fine, Mrs. Hollander,” Isabel said for him. “If you don’t need me anymore, Dr. Hollander, I’ll leave you two alone.”

  “That’s all, Isabel. Thank you.”

  Maggie heard the finality in the words and watched the glance being exchanged between the doctor and his nurse. So that, too, had been resolved, she thought. She felt a pang of sorrow, and sympathy, for Isabel’s plight. One couldn’t choose whom one loved. Isabel had fallen in love with a man who didn’t love her back. Was that what she had done? Maggie wondered. Please God, let that not be the case.

  Isabel was almost to the door when Lisa said, “Isabel, wait.”

  Isabel paused and turned to look back.

  “Thank you for calling us tonight. And for helping with Amy.”

  “You’re welcome,” Isabel said. “I’m so glad everything turned out all right.” Maggie watched Isabel give Roman one last regretful, almost wistful, look before she turned and left the room.

  Maggie felt Jack’s arm slide around her waist, and she let him lead her away.

  “I think the Hollanders could use some privacy,” he said. “And I want to check on Victoria.”

  Maggie shot Jack a surprised look. “Check on Victoria? If she’s not in the ICU, the children are safe.”

  “Brian’s not.”

  Maggie’s heart did a shift sideways and began beating an off-kilter tattoo. “In all these years she’s never harmed Brian. What makes you think she’d try something now.”

  “She knows I’m onto her.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Jack shrugged. “Intuition. I could feel it when she looked at me.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her from leaving?” Maggie demanded. “What if she gets to Brian before we can stop her?”

  “I’ve got somebody watching Brian,” Jack said as he pushed the elevator call button.

  “What?”

  “I’ve had somebody watching Brian since I first realized Victoria might be the one killing kids. But I think it might not be a bad idea to move him, Maggie.”

  “Why don’t you just arrest her, and get it over with!” Maggie cried.

  “You know why,” Jack said quietly.

  The elevator arrived with a chime. They got on, and Jack pushed the button for the ground floor. Maggie remained silent, because the elevator was full of people, but the instant they headed down the hall for the parking garage she said, “Porter knows about her, too, Jack.”

  “That makes him an accessory,” Jack said.

  Maggie snorted. “Try proving that. They’re going to get away with it, Jack. Both of them. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop them.”

  “Victoria isn’t going to kill another kid, Maggie.”

  “Who’s going to stop her?” Maggie demanded.

  “I am.”

  Jack had known the instant he walked into the ICU and saw Victoria poised over Amy’s tiny body that she was the killer he’d been seeking. Her pale blue eyes had defied him to stop her. If she’d made her move then, as Mrs. Matt had, he’d have been helpless to prevent another death. And they’d both known it.

  But Victoria was different from Mrs. Matt. More patient. More shrewd. More dangerous.

  If he’d had probable cause, he’d have searched Victoria. He was willing to bet he’d have found a syringe on her, too. But Jack knew enough about unlawful search and seizure to know that even if he’d found a syringe, the evidence would’ve been thrown out in court. What reason did he have to suspect Victoria Wainwright of being a serial killer? Coincidence? Supposition? Intuition?

  It wasn’t enough.

  And yet Jack had seen the challenge in her eyes. Catch me if you can. How the hell was he going to do that? He had plenty of eyes on the ICU, but Jack knew she wouldn’t go back there again. Not when she knew he knew. She didn’t even have to know exactly who he was to realize he was a threat to her. And he knew that he’d been made.

  Victoria would have to wait a year to kill again . . . or kill at another hospital. In which case she would undoubtedly succeed. The only chance he had of catching her was if she went after her grandson, in which case Jack intended to be waiting for her.

  Jack knew that was what she would do . . . because of the challenge. And because Brian could be identified as a source of her pain—if pain was the reason she killed.

  He made a stop before they left the hospital to phone the policeman who’d been assigned to guard Brian Wainwright.

  “Been quiet as a mouse around here,” the cop said. “Not a creature stirring, et cetera.”

  “Victoria Wainwright left San Antonio General about ten minutes ago,” Jack said. “Keep an eye peeled for her. I expect to be at Shady Oaks myself shortly.”

  “What’s going on, Jack?” Maggie said as she followed him out to the garage and got into his pickup.

  He gunned the engine and heard rubber screech on cement as he exited the parking garage. “I think Victoria’s planning to kill Brian.”

  “Tonight?”

  He nodded.

  “Why haven’t you called the police?” Maggie said, her voice frantic.

  He turned to look at her. “I just checked in with the policeman who’s guarding Brian.”

  “I mean call lots of police. Surround the place.”

  “Then she won’t come at all.”

  “I don’t care if you catch her, Jack. I want Brian to be safe.”

  “Don’t you see, Maggie? Brian will never be safe until Victoria is caught in the act. It’s the only way of proving she’s the killer.”

  Jack watched Maggie stare out the window at the dark countryside along I-35, her jaw clamped tight. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, crossed her arms, and stuck her hands under her armpits. “You have to trust me to know what I’m doing, Maggie.”

  “You let that other little girl get killed.”

  Jack focused hard on the road in front of him, speeding up to pass a semi on the dark road, then slowing down again. “Sometimes the good guys don’t win, Maggie. But we keep trying.”

  “All right, Jack. If you say this is the only way to catch Victoria, I’ll believe you. And I’ll put Brian’s life in your hands. Because I love you, and I trust you not to let anything happen to him.”

  He met her gaze in the green light from the dash. “Aw, Maggie. That’s a hell of a load to lay on me.”

  “You can handle it, Jack. I’ve got faith in you.”

  She was in love with him, and it felt good hearing her say it. Why can’t you love her, Jack? Why can’t you just let go of the past and love her?

  Because the hurt little boy inside was running the show, while the grown man was standing by letting him do it. It was a question of which choice was less painful-being alone all his life, or being with someone who broke his heart every day.

  Maggie won’t break your heart, a voice said. You can trust her with your life.

  Jack wished there were a crystal ball he could look into that would tell him the future, because he was tempted, so tempted, to love her. He just didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

  He wasn’t going to make the same mistake with Victoria that he’d made with Lilly Matt. If it came to a choice, he’d save the kid first. Then, if Victoria was still alive, he’d let a judge decide her fate.

  Chapter 20

  It helped, Victoria thought, to be clever. And to think ahead.

  She had known Jack Kittrick would set someone to watch for her, and she hadn’t been mistaken. She had disguised herself as an old woman, the grandmother she was, and walked right up to the front door of Shady Oaks. The stoop-shouldered, gray-headed lady wearing a K-Mart jersey dre
ss that came to mid-calf with an oversized gray cardigan sweater, crepe-soled black shoes tied in double knots, and nylons that bagged at the ankle, was not the least bit threatening.

  The policeman at the front door had been quite thorough, however, asking for her identification. Victoria had acted nervous and anxious and pitiful, pleading the lack of I.D. because she’d only intended to visit her granddaughter and didn’t know it would be needed. The wonderful thing was, she had been visiting a little girl in this disguise for nearly a month posing as the child’s grandmother.

  She had first met the girl in the pediatrics ward at San Antonio General and had followed her here. It was how she had accidentally found Brian. She had come up with the disguise so there would be no questions about Victoria Wainwright’s involvement when the little girl mysteriously died.

  One of the nurses identified her for the policeman. “That’s Mrs. Hartwell. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  And she was inside.

  Of course, she had to visit Susan Hartwell before she could do what she had come to do. Maybe this would be a good time to ease the path of Susan’s mother, whose marriage, Victoria had learned, was in jeopardy because of the child.

  So far Victoria hadn’t been able to bring her-self to end Susan Hartwell’s life. It was the girl herself who forbid it. The seven-year-old child’s dark eyes always latched onto hers the instant she entered the room and never let go.

  “Well, Susan, I’ve returned,” Victoria said, settling into the wooden ladderback chair next to her bed.

  “I’m glad,” the child said. “Did you bring a book to read to me?”

  “Actually, I have a copy of Peter Rabbit.” Victoria reached into the brown shopping bag the policeman had searched so thoroughly and pulled out the book. She eased out the syringe she had slipped between the binding and the pages of the book and hid it in her palm before handing the book to Susan. “Why don’t you look at the pictures for a while? I have someone else I’d like to visit.”

  “All right,” Susan said. “Promise you’ll come back?”

  “I don’t make promises,” Victoria said.

  Susan grinned. “I know. Because then you don’t have to break them.”

  Victoria smiled back. The child was positively delightful. She really didn’t belong in a home like this. It was too bad about the AIDS. But her father was afraid of her, and her mother feared for the other children in the household. Susan really didn’t deserve to die all alone. Victoria was glad she would be there for her at the end.

  She paused at the doorway before heading down the hall to Brian’s room. She wondered why a police officer wasn’t stationed at Brian’s door but realized it was probably a matter of not enough police to go around, and it made the most sense to screen visitors before they got into the house. Victoria eased into Brian’s room and closed the door after her.

  Brian was sleeping. A small light beside the bed remained on so that a night nurse could check on him. Victoria glanced at her Piaget. Stupid policeman. He hadn’t even noticed she was wearing it. She should have taken it oft but she didn’t have a substitute. 9:34. The nurse would be by to check on Brian at 10 P.M. She had time.

  Maggie had put a comfortable rocking chair in the room, and Victoria settled into it and began to rock. It was comforting to hear the creak of wood and the rustle of the live oaks outside the open window and the sound of Brian breathing through his open mouth.

  She closed her eyes and rocked. Soon the pain would be gone. For Brian. And for her. She would be able to stop killing. Except maybe for Susan. She would have to see how things went with Susan. When the little girl got worse, it might be necessary to ease her pain. The shot was quick and almost painless.

  Victoria felt certain that anyone with a care for the child would do the same thing. It was just that nobody seemed to care much for Susan. Except her.

  “Victoria.”

  Victoria opened her eyes slowly. She had been almost in a trance, and it was a shock to open her eyes and find Maggie standing in the doorway.

  “I see you managed to sneak inside, after all,” Maggie said.

  “It wasn’t difficult. Where’s Kittrick?”

  “He stayed on the front porch to talk with the policeman-who said no one had been by here tonight except an old lady who came to visit her granddaughter.”

  Victoria smiled. “That was me.” She took the syringe out of her pocket and heard Maggie hiss in a breath as she uncapped it.

  “Don’t do it, Victoria,” Maggie said.

  “It’s the only way, don’t you see? The only way any of us will ever have any peace.”

  Maggie didn’t see how she could reach Victoria before she killed Brian. She only knew she had to try. The whole distance of the room stood between her and the other woman, while Victoria was less than three feet from Brian’s bed. Maggie had to keep Victoria talking, distract her, so that she could get closer.

  “You’ve been very stupid, Victoria,” Maggie said.

  Victoria sat up straight in the rocker and gave her full attention to Maggie. “I don’t see how.”

  “You’ve been found out. You’re going to go to jail for the rest of your life.”

  Victoria laughed. “Oh, my dear girl, you are almost as delightful as Susan.”

  “Who’s Susan?”

  “A little girl dying of AIDS who lives down the hall. I’ve been visiting her.”

  Maggie felt a chill go down her spine. “Are you planning to kill her, too?”

  “Perhaps. If it becomes necessary.”

  “Are you listening to yourself? Do you hear what you’re saying?” Maggie asked. “You’re talking about taking a human life.”

  “An imperfect life,” Victoria corrected. “I’ve only ended imperfect lives.”

  “There’s no such thing as a perfect life,” Maggie snapped. “We’re all flawed. Porter’s weak willed. I’m an alcoholic. Jack’s haunted by ghosts. And you’re a murderer.” She was halfway across the room, yet Victoria hadn’t seemed to notice. “There’s no such thing as perfection where humans are concerned.”

  “Do you really think so?” Victoria said, her brow furrowing. “That explains a great deal, I suppose. Like why I never felt loved by Richard. If love can be achieved only through perfection—and there is no perfection—then there can be no love.”

  Maggie tried to understand what Victoria was saying, but it made no sense. “The only kind of love I know about is given without conditions of any kind.”

  Victoria snorted. It was the most unladylike sound Maggie had ever heard her make.

  “Are you saying you love Brian even the way he is? Or that Jack can love an alcoholic?”

  “Of course I do,” Maggie said. “And of course he can.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Victoria said.

  “Call him in here and ask him,” Maggie said.

  Victoria made a moué. “You really must think I’m stupid to invite him in here. What is he, anyway, FBI?”

  “Texas Ranger,” Maggie said.

  “Once the deed is done, there’s no way to prove I did it,” Victoria said.

  “I’ll say you did it,” Victoria countered. “And Porter will back me up. Who’ll believe you?” she said triumphantly.

  Maggie had been watching and waiting for Victoria to make her move, and when she did, Maggie launched herself the short distance that remained between them, grabbing Victoria’s wrist to deflect the needle from its goal. Victoria struggled mightily to reach Brian’s arm. Maggie was able to keep her at bay, but she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on.

  “Don’t try to stop me, Margaret. This is the way it has to be,” Victoria said.

  “I’m not going to let you kill Brian,” Maggie cried. She managed to turn the needle away from Brian, but it was now aimed at her own forearm.

  “So you love your son, Maggie. Enough to die in his place?” Victoria said.

  “Let go, Victoria, or I’ll scream for help,” Maggie said.

&nb
sp; “Go ahead and scream,” Victoria said, shoving the syringe toward Maggie’s wrist. “Help will come too late.”

  Jack felt jumpy and wasn’t sure why. According to the cop on duty, nobody had been by to visit tonight except an old woman.

  “She was dressed like a bag lady but had on this really terrific diamond watch. Eccentric, I guess,” the young policeman said.

  “A diamond watch? On a bag lady? And you didn’t think that was strange?”

  The young man stood up straighter. “I guess I thought—”

  “Call for backup,” he shouted as he sped away. “Then come find me.” Jack was already through the front door and on his way down the hall when he heard Maggie’s scream. He shoved his way through Brian’s door, his gun drawn, and found Maggie and Victoria locked in a deadly contest. Victoria clearly had the upper hand. All it would take was a quick jab and Maggie would be dead.

  Jack’s heart leapt to his throat. There was nothing like the threat of losing someone forever to put things into quick and accurate perspective. He loved Maggie Wainwright. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Which meant he’d better make sure she lived through the next few minutes. But in case she didn’t, there was something he wanted said.

  “I love you, Maggie.”

  “A fine time you picked to tell me, Jack,” Maggie said.

  “I’ve decided I can live with your imperfections.”

  “All of them?” Maggie said.

  “Every one.”

  “This is all very touching, Margaret. It’s really too bad Mr. Kittrick didn’t say something sooner, when it might have made a difference.” Victoria turned to Jack and said, “Put down your gun, or I’ll kill her.”

  “Not this time, Victoria.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that if you don’t let go of that needle I’m going to shoot to kill.”

  “Maggie will be dead before I hit the ground,” Victoria promised, holding the needle pressed against Maggie’s skin. “Did I tell you I tried this first with a cat? Didn’t even get half the syringe pumped in before the animal was dead. Heart stops instantly. There’s nothing you can do to stop it or reverse it. Think about that, Jack.”