You Can Run...

by Carlene Thompson

  “Well, you can’t be without your wallet. No money, no driver’s license—what a nuisance.”

  Nan nodded then turned her attention to her lemonade. She took a drink that went down with a loud gulp.

  Simon looked at Diana. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Diana, but you need to come into the library for a few minutes. Blake Wentworth is here and he says it’s imperative that he talk to you and he doesn’t have much time.”

  Simon had to know that one of the last people she wanted to see was a Cavanaugh minion. Still, Simon must have had a good reason for letting the man inside.

  Diana looked at Nan. “I’m sorry but I have to go for a few minutes. Please don’t leave.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Nan’s agitation seemed to have grown. Her lips twitched slightly. “Okay. But I can’t stay for very long.”

  “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  Blake sat on the only uncomfortable chair in the room. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, balancing his chin on his clasped hands. The shining black waves of his hair were tousled, and his skin was pale and seemingly drawn more tightly over the patrician bones of his face. When Diana entered the room, with Simon right behind her, he stood and gave her an uncertain smile. “Hello, Miss Sheridan.”

  “I can’t imagine why you’re here.”

  Blake’s smile vanished and his face took on a look of intense discomfort. “I came to apologize for Jeff.”

  “He couldn’t do that for himself?” Diana asked as she sat down on a couch, keeping her voice cool. “Or he doesn’t feel he should apologize to me?”

  “Both,” Blake said, lowering himself to the edge of the chair. “He’s at the hotel with Lenore, which is why I can’t stay long. I don’t want to leave Lenore alone with him if he decides to do something else stupid. But for right now, he doesn’t think he owes you an apology. In fact, I don’t believe he’s thinking clearly about anything.”

  “Diana told me about the scene in the park,” Simon intervened. “I can’t feel sorry about Jeffrey’s emotional state when his behavior sent his daughter into a state of complete terror. At first, we couldn’t calm her. Finally, we were able to make her rest with Clarice in attendance and a movie playing to divert her attention. Willow won’t forget today’s scene any time soon, though. Jeffrey certainly doesn’t act like a man who wants to win back his daughter. He doesn’t act like a man who cares at all about her emotional state.”

  “He does care about her,” Blake said sincerely. “I’m not saying that he was ever a great father. He wasn’t harsh with her. He simply doesn’t know how to express affection, especially for a baby. He has no experience with children and his own life has been rather bizarre—”

  “Lenore told me a bit about his trials and tribulations,” Diana interrupted. “It’s all very sad, but it doesn’t have anything to do with how he’s treating his daughter. And frankly, I wonder how he really treated her when she still lived with him. You say he wasn’t harsh, but how do you know? Maybe Penny ran away to protect Willow from him.”

  “I don’t know why Penny ran away. I had my opinions at the time, then I changed my mind when we came here and learned about Penny’s life in Huntington. Today, though, I believe my original opinion was correct.”

  “You thought she had a lover,” Diana said flatly.

  “Yes. That’s what I thought at first. That’s what I think now.”

  “Why?” Simon asked.

  Blake hesitated. “I’ll tell you about earlier today. Then you might understand Jeff’s state of mind when he came to the park. After I’d dropped off Lenore, Jeff expected me to join him at the hospital as soon as possible. Not long after I got there, Penny woke up.”

  “She woke up!” Simon and Diana said in unison.

  “Yes. You’re both smiling. You wouldn’t be if you’d been there.” Blake closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. “I have never seen anyone in such agony. The doctor said some of the burns were so deep they’d destroyed the nerve endings and she felt nothing from them, but all the others—well, her thrashing, her shrieking in agony, her one remaining eye looking as if it were going to explode from her face were the most horrific things I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ll remember that scene until I die.”

  “My God,” Simon said softly, painfully.

  Diana, too stricken to speak, felt as if a shard of ice had pierced her heart. Penny with her lilting laugh and twinkling eyes. Penny.

  “Jeff was frantic, almost hysterical. The doctor said Penny couldn’t stand this much pain—he had to give her a drug to put her back to sleep. I can’t remember the name but it was something very powerful. Of course, Jeff told him to do it, do it now.” Blake hesitated. “Then the doctor told Jeffrey the drug could have adverse effects on the baby.”

  “The baby?” Diana whispered.

  Blake nodded. “It turns out that Penny is about two months’ pregnant.”

  2

  Glass crashed in the kitchen. The three of them looked at each other blankly for a moment before Diana jumped up. “Excuse me, Blake. I’ll see what’s wrong.”

  Diana found the shattered glass in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall, a mere two feet from the narrow second entrance to the library. Ice cubes lay scattered amid the glass, and the back door hung open about two inches. Diana rushed to it in time to see Nan jumping into her old car that she’d parked behind the house. Nan had rolled down her window and Diana called out to her, but Nan didn’t turn her head. She simply picked up speed and flew past the house, headed for the paved driveway down to the road.

  Eavesdropping again, Diana thought. You couldn’t change old habits in a day, and Nan’s compulsion to eavesdrop had gotten the best of her again. This time, though, she’d heard that Penny was pregnant, an announcement apparently so startling, or appalling, that the girl had dropped her glass of lemonade and run.

  Diana decided to clean up the shattered glass after Blake left. He’d said he couldn’t stay long and she had questions for him. Just as she reentered the library, the phone rang, and she motioned to Simon, who was seated, that she would answer. After her “Hello,” Glen asked in a falsely cheerful voice, “How are you today, Diana?”

  She briefly imagined Glen lying in bed with his nineteen-year-old student who no doubt adored him, but whom he no doubt found merely useful. She barely managed, “Today has been bad.”

  “Bad? How?”

  Although she had not talked to Glen since the police located Jeffrey Cavanaugh, she was certain that Nan had told him about Cavanaugh and the scene he’d created when he came to collect his daughter Saturday night. Still, she didn’t want to say more than necessary. “Penny came out of her coma—”

  “What!” Glen sounded stunned. “How is she?”

  “Horrible. All she did was shriek in agony. Awake, she can feel the burns. They had to put her back to sleep just to keep her alive. You can die of pain, you know.”

  “Oh God, sure.”

  “And finally, Nan came by here to speak with me.”

  She could almost feel Glen tensing. “Speak with you about what?”

  “I don’t know. We got a visitor who can’t stay long and she dashed away.” Diana hesitated, but she couldn’t help saying, “I’m sure she’ll either call me or come back. She seemed almost desperate to get something off her chest.”

  “Is that so?” Glen tried for a mocking laugh that sounded something like a chicken cackling. “I can’t imagine what the bright and beautiful Nan Murphy so desperately wants to confide.”

  “Neither do I. I’ll just have to wait until tonight, or probably tomorrow when she comes to work.” Diana looked over at Blake, who was talking quietly with Simon. “I’m afraid I have to get back to our company, now. I’m being rude.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “I’ll talk with you soon, Glen. Good-bye.”

  Diana hung up and almost smiled, thinking about the state Glen must be in right now. Of course, Nan had wanted to tell her a
bout the affair, and of course, Glen knew it. His perfect little world was about to pop—no more Diana, no more Simon Van Etton. Whatever happened to him, he deserves it, Diana thought.

  Now her first concern was Penny. Diana returned to Simon on the couch. “In spite of the horrible scene at the hospital, did the doctor say if Penny is improving?”

  Blake gave her a sympathetic but direct look. “He said infection has started. It’s what they expected. They’re giving Penny too many antibiotics for me to name, which often save people who wouldn’t have stood a chance twenty years ago. The doctor said with burns as extensive as Penny’s, though, the infection is often too much for the antibiotics to fight.”

  “Then I suppose worrying about the effect of the sedative on the fetus is pointless.” Blake nodded and continued to look at her, the question in his eyes. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, Blake.” Diana knew that he was wondering if she had any idea about the baby’s paternity. She was certain she did, but although she was furious with Glen, she would not set an enraged and dangerous Jeffrey Cavanaugh on him. “I didn’t know Penny was seeing anyone.”

  “Well, this news has just devastated Jeff,” Blake said. “He still loved her. I think he would have taken her back. He’s always thought there was another man, but thinking and knowing aren’t the same, much less finding out she was carrying another man’s child. That’s why he completely lost his head today. First the doctor told us infection had set in, then Penny woke up with those blood-curdling shrieks, and then Jeff found out about the baby. He literally ran out of the burn unit and out of the hospital. I was right behind him, but still I couldn’t grab him before he got in the car and locked the doors. I was certain he was headed for your house, Diana, and I followed him straight to the park.”

  “I wish you could have reached him before he confronted us in the park,” Diana said. “Willow was actually having a good time. She opened up to Lenore and even told Lenore her wedding plans. She made a new friend her own age. She was giggling like a normal, carefree five-year-old.” Diana paused. “Then Jeffrey arrived.”

  “I’m sorry, Diana. I got to him as fast as I could.”

  “I know that now. But ever since, we’ve all been tense and waiting for him to come back.”

  Blake gave her a small smile. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Lenore forced two of her tranquilizers on him. He was calming down when I left without saying where I was going. I hope he’ll sleep for the rest of the afternoon—I don’t think he’s had more than a few hours of sleep since the FBI called him Saturday morning.” He gave her and Simon that small, bleak smile again then stood. “I really have to get back. I don’t like leaving Lenore alone with him.”

  “You’re afraid for your wife’s safety around her own brother?” Diana asked sharply. “Then even you must think he’s dangerous.”

  “I think he’s upset. Terribly upset and angry, and Jeff doesn’t handle anger well. He’s a little like his father in that way.”

  Diana and Simon also stood and walked behind Blake to the library exit, where he paused and looked back at the rear bay window with its stained-glass inset of the blue-and-gold water lily. “That’s unbelievably beautiful,” he said wonderingly.

  “I got my interest in all things Egyptian from my mother,” Simon told him. “When I was very young, she told me a myth about a blue water lily. She loved the myth so much, my father ordered new glass for the center window with the lily inset. He said this way my mother would be able to look at her blue water lily every day.” Simon smiled. “Father usually acted like a man totally without sentimentality, but I think he was a closet romantic.”

  Now Blake laughed softly. “I’ve always thought the same thing about Jeff.”

  3

  When dinnertime rolled around, no one seemed to have much appetite. Simon surprised Diana by suggesting they order pizza. Willow was delighted, and Diana remembered that the little girl loved pizza, hence Simon’s suggestion, so she phoned in an order for an extra-large pizza with five toppings and two liters of soft drinks.

  The delivery of the pizza caused great excitement, well acted by Diana, Clarice, and Simon but genuine for Willow. Simon carried the box into the kitchen as if it were a five-tier wedding cake, and everyone inhaled deeply when he lifted the lid. “Oh, it smells wonnerful!” Willow exclaimed. “I might eat the whole thing.” After her third large slice of pizza, she announced she was stuffed. Everyone else declared they felt the same, and the rest of the pizza was stored in the refrigerator.

  Afterward, Clarice and Simon sat down to watch a long-running weekly news program. Willow took her coloring book and giant box of crayons and sat down at one of the small tables in the library. Diana decided to put in some time on the computer, searching the Internet for information on Jeffrey Cavanaugh.

  She came up with the most basic information: Cavanaugh’s date and place of birth; parents, Morgan and Cornelia Webster Cavanaugh; first wife, Yvette DuPrés, death ten years previous ruled a suicide; marriage three years later to Penelope Ann O’Keefe. None of the articles mentioned Penny’s disappearance. Cavanaugh had received an MBA from Harvard and had become head of Cavanaugh and Wentworth real estate developing company at age thirty, after his father had been murdered. Police had never apprehended Morgan Cavanaugh’s killer.

  Most articles remarked on how the shy, reclusive Cavanaugh had proved himself a master of finance, doubling the worth of Cavanaugh and Wentworth by the time he was thirty-five, and assuming the title of chief executive officer after taking the business public. That same year, Blake Wentworth, son of Morgan Cavanaugh’s late partner, Charles Wentworth, became chief operating officer of the business. Because Cavanaugh had recently started a small aeronautics company, some effusive articles referred to Cavanaugh as a twenty-first-century Howard Hughes.

  Diana knew if she searched further, she would find more information, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept seeing Jeffrey in the park, facing her with his fists clenched, and the flash of tears in his eyes. She thought about Blake telling them of Penny’s horrific awakening and the announcement that she was two months’ pregnant. And she thought about Nan. Homely, ungracious, seemingly impassive Nan sitting in the kitchen drenched in nervous perspiration, her usually detached gaze filled with anxiety.

  And I just walked off and left her, Diana thought. True, Blake had said he couldn’t stay long and he seemed to have something important to say, but so had Nan. Diana didn’t like Nan, but then she didn’t really know Nan. There had to be more to the girl than she’d seen during the months Nan had worked in this house. Even if there wasn’t, Nan was the daughter of Martha Murphy, who’d been a loyal and beloved employee of Simon’s for twelve years. Diana knew she owed Nan more consideration if for no other reason than just because she was Martha’s daughter.

  Guilt descended on Diana. She tried to fight it off by making excuses for her cavalier treatment of Nan that afternoon, but nothing worked. Aside from the guilt, she felt a twinge of concern. Nan had said that she wanted to start her story at the beginning, and her involvement with Glen had been the beginning, which meant she had more to say—and it involved Penny.

  Maybe Nan meant to tell Diana only that Penny, too, had been involved with Glen, but while that would have caused Nan pain, it couldn’t have been responsible for her look of apprehension. And hearing that Penny was pregnant had caused the girl to drop her glass. Diana could see how learning of the pregnancy might have been a surprise, but not enough to make Nan send a glass shattering to the floor and then flee at top speed. No, only fear could be responsible. But fear of what?

  Diana abandoned her Internet search and went up to her room. She looked up Nan’s cell phone number in her address book and called three times, only to be sent to voice mail. Nan still lived with her mother, so Diana looked up Martha’s home phone number in the telephone directory and called. After seven rings, she hung up. Even Martha’s answering machine had apparently been turned off.

  By eight o�
��clock, Willow had begun to yawn, and Romeo could not open his eyes beyond slits. They went through the ritual of carrying him up in the elevator, putting him to bed where he immediately fell into unconsciousness, and dressing Willow in her pink pajamas. She crawled under the covers of her bed and said in a regretful voice, “I’m sorry, Diana, but I’m too sleepy for a bedtime story.”

  “That’s all right, honey.” Diana hoped that Willow didn’t hear the relief in her voice. She was too preoccupied to come up with any kind of story that might entertain the little girl. “Do you want me to just sit with you until you go to sleep?”

  Willow nodded and Diana took her place in the comfortable chair where Clarice had spent so much time watching movies made for the younger set. Tonight Diana had vowed to free Clarice to do what she pleased, which seemed to be spending her time with Simon discussing current events. She and Willow had left the two in a lively discussion of the situation in the Middle East.

  Within fifteen minutes, Willow had drifted into a deep sleep. Diana tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door cracked so they could hear Willow if she called out. The night owl Christabel followed Diana downstairs and into the kitchen, where, out of habit, Diana opened the refrigerator door and looked for a snack. She settled on a glass of Coke then paced back upstairs to her room and tried Nan’s phone number again. No answer.

  Diana tried to read the latest murder mystery she’d bought, but she couldn’t concentrate well enough to follow the plot. She decided to straighten out her closet and managed to group all of her summer tops together before she tired of that task. She closed the doors to the bathroom connecting her room to Willow’s and put on a CD. She lay down on her bed to listen to Evanescence, waiting for “My Immortal,” to which she usually sang out her heart. Tonight, though, she kept mixing up the words and finally stopped the CD at the end of the song.

  At nine o’clock she tried Nan’s phone again. Still no answer. Diana knew that worrying about a nineteen-year-old not answering her cell phone was ridiculous, but she worried nevertheless. She couldn’t forget Nan’s anxiety, her frightened eyes, the glass she’d broken in spite of her carefully maintained air of unconcern about the world in general. The girl had been desperate to open her heart, and Diana might as well have turned her away at the door. She’d put Nan on hold while she listened to a more important visitor—someone she barely knew—and she felt shame as well as a sense of neglected duty. She’d already let down Penny; and she didn’t want to let down another woman who seemed to need her help.