Safe and Sound

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Safe and Sound Page 11

by Fern Michaels


  “Double help. If you think you’re in trouble, you blow the whistle, then press the star on the phone. I told you, I gotcha covered, little guy.”

  “This is absolutely amazing!” Ben said, admiring the watch on his wrist. He hung the whistle around his neck but tucked it under his tee shirt.

  Isabelle risked a glance in the rearview window to see her new best friend skimming through the phone booklet. “Okay, I got it! Perfect! Just perfect!” He chortled gleefully a few minutes later.

  “Seriously, Ben? You just skimmed that booklet!”

  “Izzy! Izzy! I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. Do you want me to recite, and I can, verbatim, how to use this phone called a Jitterbug?”

  He’s only eight years old. Not eight going on nine. He just turned eight two weeks ago. “I’m just a mere mortal, Ben. Forgive me, sometimes I forget. No, no need to recite the instructions. I trust you.”

  “Okay then. I sure do like this watch. I think this is the best present I ever got.”

  Nikki poked Isabelle in the thigh. Isabelle looked over to see the moistness in Nikki’s eyes. Her own eyes felt a little prickly.

  “I think the rain is setting in for the rest of the day. It’s coming down pretty heavy right now. I hope the road doesn’t flood, but if it does, this truck sits up high, so we’re good,” Isabelle said, just to have something to say. She hoped her worry didn’t show, especially to young Ben.

  “How much farther is it?” Ben asked as he waved his arm every which way so he could admire his new watch.

  “About ten more miles, but it’s going to take us a while longer with this torrential rain and the heavy traffic.”

  “If you were at the Institute, how would you get home in this weather, Ben?” Nikki asked.

  “Nice days, I take my bike. Other days, I walk. It’s not that far. It takes me twenty minutes. But to answer your question, I’d probably wait it out.”

  “What about the days when it’s raining early in the morning?” Nikki asked, an edge in her voice.

  “I have a rain slicker and boots,” Ben responded, still admiring the watch on his wrist from yet another angle.

  “Doesn’t your stepfather or Natalie ever drive you?”

  “Are you kidding me! Natalie doesn’t get up till lunchtime. Sometimes, if Connor doesn’t have work, he sleeps till four.”

  Nikki’s mouth stretched to an angry straight line. She made a mental note to be sure that when they meted out their particular brand of justice, this neglect would be at the top of the list of sins to be punished.

  The rest of the trip to Pinewood was made in virtual silence, all the occupants busy with their own thoughts.

  The rain continued to beat down in torrents as the windshield wipers fought the avalanche of water cascading down the windshield, making visibility almost nil.

  Isabelle almost missed the turnoff to the farm. She saw the red caution reflectors on the signpost just in time. She put on her signal light and barreled ahead. Then she stopped once she was clear of traffic and on the road leading to the farmhouse. “That has to be the hairiest, scariest drive I’ve ever had in my whole entire life. I need a couple of minutes to calm down. I can make the rest of this drive with my eyes closed, but right now, I just need to . . . to take deep breaths. Thank God for this truck!”

  Nikki appeared to be as shaken as Isabelle. Not so Ben in the backseat, who was oblivious to the weather conditions because he was still marveling over his new watch and phone. He jolted forward when Isabelle stopped the truck. “Are we at our destination?”

  “In a manner of speaking. It’s just a mile or so up the road. I thought I would stop for a few minutes to see if the rain lets up a bit. It’s hard to see right now,” Isabelle said in a shaky voice.

  “It should let up in about eleven minutes,” Ben said as he continued to wave his arm about in order to admire his brand-new watch.

  Nikki turned around, and asked, “How do you know that, Ben?”

  “It’s complicated. I can go into detail, but I’m not sure if you want to listen to statistics. It started to rain normally approximately ninety minutes ago before it intensified. Trust me,” he said, peering out the window. “Ten more minutes, Izzy, and you can start to drive to our destination.”

  In spite of herself, Nikki looked at her own watch to check the time. “Ah, that’s okay, we’ll take your word for it.”

  “You do realize that meteorologists are only accurate half the time, right? And did you know there is a weatherman in Florida whose real name is Al Sunshine? It’s true. I realize that’s trivia, but knowledge is power.”

  He’s only eight years old, Isabelle thought for the umpteenth time.

  “Truer words were never spoken,” was the best Nikki could come up with. Her eyes were glued to her watch, as were Isabelle’s. Time moved at a snail’s pace as the minutes ticked by, and the torrential rain continued to pound away on the truck’s roof.

  With one minute to go, Isabelle looked at Nikki, whose jaw was dropping. The thunder on the roof had lessened to a patter, then it was almost totally silent.

  “Told you!” piped up a voice from the backseat. “Now you can drive, Izzy, visibility is very good. You better hurry, though, another trough will be coming through in approximately thirteen minutes. This is just a lull. If I were you, I would put the pedal to the metal and get us to where we’re going or we might wash away in a flood.”

  Isabelle didn’t bother to respond; she put the pedal to the metal as instructed and tore down the long, winding road. She cleared the gate at breakneck speed, thankful that Myra, with Lady’s warning, had opened the gate. She parked, and yelled, “Run for it, here comes the rain.”

  The sisters were all clustered in the kitchen, holding out towels, while Lady and her pups barked a greeting and welcomed the newcomer, who was so overcome that he froze on the spot, his eyes full of panic.

  “Easy, little guy, everyone is a friend here. The dogs are welcoming you. Relax. Slow, easy breaths, Ben. You’re safe and sound here. Trust us, okay?”

  Ben nodded.

  “First things first. Dry clothes for everyone. We’ll dry Ben’s clothes while you all run upstairs and change. Nikki, find a shirt or something of Jack’s that he keeps here for times he has to stay over for Ben until his things are dry.”

  Nikki ushered Ben toward the back kitchen staircase, the dogs bounding ahead of them. Ten minutes later, they were all back in the kitchen, where everyone seemed to be doing something.

  Braver now that he hadn’t been eaten alive by the dogs, Ben said, “It smells really good in here.”

  “Spaghetti,” Annie said. “Isabelle said that’s what you requested. So that’s what you’re going to get. We’ll eat in the dining room since there are too many of us to fit around the kitchen table.”

  “Two large blossoms of chopped basil, seven cloves of minced garlic, one medium onion diced, one full cup of grated Parmesan cheese, and a fistful of parsley added to the sauce. Did I get it right?” Ben asked anxiously as he continued to sniff at the delectable aromas in the kitchen.

  The sisters stopped and gaped at the little boy. “How . . . how do you know that?” Kathryn asked.

  “I watch Iron Chef and the other cooking shows. That’s supposed to be the perfect spaghetti recipe. Was I right?” He twinkled, showing his gap-toothed smile.

  “Spot on!” Annie laughed.

  Braver still, Ben asked if they used two full cups of grated cheese in the meatballs with another four cloves of minced garlic. “Ground chuck is the best and most flavorful of all the ground meats, but you probably already know that. I can’t wait to taste it.”

  “Spot on again,” Annie said. She had no idea if the boy was right or not since she had ordered the spaghetti from Angelo’s Italian Ristorante.

  “I think it’s time for introductions now,” Isabelle said, as Ben manfully held out his hand for a handshake.

  “We don’t shake hands here, we hug,” Alexis s
aid as she wrapped her arms around the skinny little boy. The sisters took turns hugging the happy little boy, with the dogs yipping and yapping the whole time.

  “Time to eat!” Maggie said as she busied herself at the stove. “Yoko and I will bring it in. Kathryn, you handle the garlic bread.”

  “Ben, what would you like to drink?” Myra asked.

  “Milk if you have it, ma’am,” he responded.

  Myra held up her hands, palms outward. “Stop right there! My name is Myra. None of us want to be called ‘ma’am.’ We’re informal here. We’re a family, and that means we’re all equal. Okay?”

  “Yes, I am personally okay with that information. I like informal situations. I was just speaking the way my grandmother taught me. Adults, she said, were either ma’am or sir. I didn’t want to make a mistake and have you think I had no manners.”

  Maggie carried the oversize tureen full to the brim with spaghetti and meatballs. Two long-handled forks were stuck in the middle. Behind her, Kathryn carried a platter filled high with fragrant garlic bread. Ben literally swooned at what he was seeing and smelling.

  Thirty minutes later, there was very little spaghetti left in the bottom of the tureen. All the garlic bread was gone.

  “Sorry, there’s no dessert today. We didn’t have the time to prepare anything,” Annie said by way of apology.

  “I couldn’t eat it if there was,” Ben said. “I think that was the best spaghetti I’ve ever eaten in my whole life. You should market your recipe, Annie.”

  Annie laughed. She looked across at Ben and said, “I cheated. We didn’t have time to cook spaghetti sauce, so we ordered it and doctored it up a little, so none of us can take credit for it.”

  Ben laughed, a deep belly laugh that made the others laugh right along with him. At that moment in time, every woman in the room fell totally in love with the curly-haired little boy.

  “Cleanup time!” Nikki said. “No, not you, Ben. You’re our guest.”

  Thirteen minutes later, the kitchen was cleaned and everything in its place. The only sign that they’d eaten spaghetti was the aroma lingering in the air.

  There was a small amount of confusion as everyone headed for the dining room, where the sisters took their seats. Isabelle pulled out a chair next to her for Ben. He scooted up and sat up straight, his backpack on the floor at his feet. He looked around and waited. He felt tense until he felt Isabelle’s hand on his arm. He looked over at her and smiled. He was in good hands, he was sure of it.

  Myra called the impromptu meeting to order. “Isabelle told us what she knows, which isn’t all that much. We know nothing about what transpired in your young life from the time she saw you last, and that was three days ago. We need you to bring us up to date. Can you do that?”

  Ben nodded. “Yes. Are you the leader of this club?”

  Myra smiled. “No, Ben, I’m not the leader. We don’t have a leader. We’re all equal here. What that means is, we vote on everything. No one has more authority than anyone else in this group. I’m not sure we’re a club. We prefer to think of ourselves as fixers. We try to fix things for people who have been wronged. If you have any questions, this would be a good time for you to ask them.”

  “Do any of you ladies,” he asked, looking around, “know my grandmother?”

  “No, Ben, none of us, with the exception of Isabelle, knows your grandmother or her friends Rita and Irene. We didn’t know your mother, either. We are strangers to everyone involved in this situation. You have to tell us everything, so we can help you. Unless you decide to change your mind,” Annie said.

  “Do you think you can find my grandmother?”

  Maggie leaned forward. “We think so, Ben. We need you to tell us everything you know, even if you think it isn’t important. You never know what will tip the scales in that direction.”

  “Ben, think of our minds as a blank slate, and we’re waiting to chalk-mark our first entry. What that is has to come from you,” Isabelle said quietly.

  “I don’t remember my mother. I don’t know who my father is. My grandmother said when I was older, she would talk to me about . . . about all of that. After I was born, I lived with my grandmother until my mother married Connor Ryan because, until that happened, my mother didn’t or couldn’t take care of me. Grandma said motherhood wasn’t in her DNA. I have a lot of pictures of her. She was very pretty. I think I know what my grandmother meant when she said motherhood wasn’t in her DNA. Grandma has a painting of her hanging over the mantel. Artists say the eyes are the mirrors of the soul. The person who painted the picture either didn’t capture that or what he painted was all there was to see. My mother’s eyes were blank; they didn’t register anything. I spent a lot of time standing on a stool so I could look up at the picture.

  “One time, I heard Rita talking to Irene about my mother’s being challenged. I know what that means. But no one would talk to me about it, so I had to figure it out myself. Then, when I was four and went to live with Connor and Natalie, I would hear them talking about my mother. Natalie said my mother was so smart that she was stupid. Then Connor would say things, gross things that made me want to cry. The only reason Connor adopted me was so my mother would marry him, and he would get her money. I guess she had lots of money, but I don’t know that for sure.”

  “Do you know where and how your mother met Connor?” Nikki asked.

  “I asked Connor once, and he said he met my mother at a show he was giving to attract new business. She asked him to make her a unicorn. He did, and he said she loved it. I never saw it. Then he said she pursued him, and eventually, they got married. That’s all I know.”

  “So what happened after I saw you on Friday, Ben?” Isabelle asked.

  “I went back to my grandmother’s house and let myself in. The first time I went, months ago, I wanted to see if my grandmother had left me a clue or a sign that she would know I would understand. I started to cry, so I left. I never went back until Saturday. I made up my mind that I was going to stay till I found something. And I did find something, in Freddie. I feel really stupid that I didn’t find it the first time. Freddie is a big teddy bear with an opening in the back to keep your pajamas in. I picked it off the shelf and knew right away that’s where Grandma put whatever she wanted me to find. I took everything out and stuck it in my pants and went home to look at it. She . . . she. . . wrote me a letter,” Ben said in a choked voice. He bent down and fished around inside his backpack and pulled out the letter. He handed it to Isabelle, who read it, then passed it around the table until Myra read it and handed it back to Ben.

  “I felt so bad that I didn’t find it the first time. I knew that Grandma wouldn’t leave me at the mercy of Connor if she thought I wasn’t going to be safe.” He carefully folded the letter and returned it to his backpack. His eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  “What else was in the bear?” Kathryn asked.

  “A lot of credit cards. Money. Deeds. Stuff. I kept one credit card and four of the hundred-dollar bills. I hid them in my shoe in the closet. No one ever goes in my room. At least that I know of. But I got nervous, so I took everything but the four hundred dollars and the card back and put them all back in Freddie.”

  “Isabelle took us all there yesterday, and we found it. The contents are safe with us now,” Annie said gently. “You don’t have to worry about it from here on in.” The relief on the little boy’s face was so palpable, Annie wanted to get up and hug him. She smiled when she saw Isabelle put her arm around his bony shoulders.

  “Then what happened?” Yoko asked.

  “Then Natalie and Connor had a big fight, and Natalie packed up and left. I was soooo happy! I think Connor was happy, too, because he changed the locks on the doors. On Sunday, Connor went out in the afternoon. He never goes anywhere on a Sunday afternoon. With both of them out of the house, I took a chance and did everything I was not supposed to do. I knew the minute I saw Natalie’s hair on the dresser that she was coming back.”

&n
bsp; “I think you need to explain that, Ben,” Maggie said.

  “Her hair! She left it behind in her room. It was right there on the dresser. Six long pieces of hair. Connor said there was nothing real about her. Phony hair, contact lenses, nose job, lip injections, boob job, acrylic fingernails and toenails. He was always taunting her about it, especially when she wanted money. They might be married legally, but it’s a sham marriage. It’s like one of those marriages where a rich foreigner wants to become a US citizen and he marries an American. They have a business arrangement in order to get my mother’s money.”

  “How do you know all this?” Alexis asked.

  “It’s not like I eavesdrop. All the two of them do is scream and yell at each other. I can’t help but overhear, and they didn’t seem to care if I heard or not.”

  “Then what happened?” Isabelle asked.

  “When Connor left, like I said, I started to look everywhere that was off-limits to me. I wasn’t allowed in the study, so I went there after I checked out the master bedroom. As far as I can tell, the master bedroom is really her bedroom. Connor sleeps in the guest bedroom. Natalie must have six hundred pairs of shoes. For sure she’d never leave those behind. Or her hair. I didn’t find anything else in the room. There were none of Connor’s clothes.

  “I went to the study because I wanted to see if I could find out how much money the lawyers paid Connor every month as child support. Connor told Natalie the money stopped coming three months ago, and they were broke. I found the records. He got twelve thousand dollars a month for me. All of the utilities are about to be turned off for nonpayment. There were bills that totaled close to two hundred thousand dollars that were overdue.

  “Oh, and prior to that I asked Connor for money, and he gave me a hundred dollars. When he returned later, I told him I needed new clothes, and if he didn’t come through, I was going to tell them at the Institute. Then I ordered a pizza, an antipasto, which is still in the refrigerator, and some soda pop. When it came, I forgot to lock the front door because my hands were full. That was before I went where I wasn’t supposed to go.

 

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