“Bonnie!” he cried out, but there was no response. “Bonnie!”
He couldn’t bear to wait any longer. He ran up to the front door and began pounding.
“Bonnie!” he shouted, battering the door already splintered by his assault this morning. “Bonnie, I’m here! I’m ready!”
There was still no response. Carl could feel sweat breaking out all over his body, chilling him. He didn’t know how or why, but he had the distinct feeling that his most cherished dream was falling apart before it had ever really begun.
“Bonnie!” he cried. He started moving toward the window when he heard police cars making a beeline down the street. The shrill sirens raised the short hairs on the back of his neck. He knew if they saw him, they’d haul him away. He didn’t have much time.
“Bonnie! Please!” Why didn’t she open the door? He couldn’t understand it. He knew she wanted him; she’d told him so. There must be something wrong, some horrible misunderstanding.
The first police car door opened.
“I just want to be with my family!” Carl cried out. His voice dripped with confusion and anguish. “I just want to be with my boy on Christmas Eve!”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” one of the cops said, his voice transformed into a metallic squawk by the electric bullhorn. “Drop the gun.”
“No!”
“You can’t win. We have you surrounded. You cannot escape. And we will not let you enter that house!”
Carl glanced over his shoulder. The cops were out of their cars, three of them now. The doors were out and the officers were crouched behind them, primed and ready to shoot.
He could think of only one thing to do, one last chance. He knew the front bay window was weakened; he’d put his arm through it only this morning. If he hit it at top speed…
“I’m coming, Bonnie!” He crouched down in a sprinter’s start and flew toward the broken window. He was barely five feet away when a chorus of shots rang out.
Carl stopped in his tracks. He froze up, twitching like a man having a seizure. And then he fell, like a man with no legs, tumbling into a heap on the yellow grass.
14
Still peering through the window, Bonnie couldn’t help but express her amazement. “Nice shooting.”
Frank caressed the hot barrel of his gun. “I aim to please,” he said. “If you’ll pardon the pun.”
Bonnie grinned, then turned her eyes back out toward the front yard. “Next time the cops fire-finish him.”
Megan screeched to a stop just as the shots rang out. No! she thought. I’m too late. I’ve failed her.
She jumped out of the car and ran toward the line of police cars barricading the street. “What’s happening?” she asked, breathless, as she ran up behind them. “Are Bonnie and Tommy all right?”
“Stay back, lady,” one of them growled.
Megan took one look and screamed. “Bonnie!” Ignoring the police, she ran forward, making a beeline for the front door of the house.
“Lady!” one of the cops barked, but Megan kept running. She could see now that Carl was lying in a bloody heap on the grass; she didn’t see how he could possibly do her any harm.
She stopped when she reached the body, then groped stupidly for a pulse.
He was still alive.
“Where the hell did she come from?” Frank growled, lowering his gun. “Who is she?”
“It’s the lawyer!” Bonnie answered. “Damn!” She had expected Megan to come, but not so soon, not spoiling everything.
“I can’t tell if he’s dead!” Frank spat the words out.
Bonnie whirled around, livid. “I know that, idiot.”
“What are we going to do now?” He grabbed her by the arms and shook her. “Tell me that, will you? What are we going to do now?”
Bonnie broke out of his grasp, cursing under her breath. “I’ll think of something.”
“Call an ambulance!” Megan cried. The three cops were moving her way, but one of them ran back to radio for the medics.
Megan stood up, raced toward the window. “Bonnie? Are you in there? Are you all right?”
A few moments later, the front door cracked, open. “Megan?” a subdued voice whispered.
“Bonnie!” Megan ran toward the front door. They fell into each other’s arms at the halfway point.
“Oh, Megan!” Bonnie sobbed. Her face was streaked with tears; her voice was trembling. “I–I was so frightened.”
Megan led her back to sit on the front steps. “What happened?”
Several seconds passed as Bonnie tried to collect herself. “I was so scared. Even worse than before.” She cradled her knees and hugged them close to her. “So scared.”
“What did he do?”
She was breathing in short, broken gasps. “He just showed up, shouting and threatening. Said he was going to kill me. Said he was going to kill us all.”
“What did you do?”
“I called the police, like you said. Thank God they got here quickly. He was crazy, Megan, just crazy. He tried to throw himself through the bay window.”
Megan took Bonnie’s head in her lap and held her tight. “It’s all right, Bonnie. It’s going to be all right. It’s all over now.”
“I–I just wish it hadn’t had to happen like this,” she said, sorrow tinging every syllable. “Poor Carl. What away to go.”
“Don’t worry, Bonnie. He isn’t dead.”
Bonnie’s eyes seemed to contract. “He … isn’t?”
“No. The bullet hit him in the arm. Hurts like hell, I’m sure, but it isn’t life-threatening.”
“You’re-sure?”
“Positive. I doubt if he’ll be in the hospital overnight.”
“Oh, Megan.” She turned her head away. “I can’t tell you what a relief it is to hear that.”
“The important thing is, he’s in custody. And after this stunt, he’s likely to stay that way for a good long time.”
She saw over her shoulder that the police were approaching. They would doubtless have questions of their own. “Bonnie, the police are going to need all the details. Do you want me to stay?”
“Do I need an attorney?”
“Probably not. But I thought you might need … a friend.”
“Oh, that would be-you must have plans.”
“Outside of feeding the dog, no.”
Bonnie hugged Megan close to her. “You’re so good, Megan. So good to me.”
“Nonsense.” Megan stood up and prepared to meet the police. “Least I can do. Especially on Christmas Eve.”
15
More than two hours passed before Bonnie finally saw the last of the police, the medics, the family counselors. Carl was hauled off to St. Anthony’s, Bonnie provided a detailed statement, and Frank remained in the upper bedroom, out of sight.
When finally she had cleared the last of the do-gooders out of the house, Bonnie made her way upstairs. Frank was smoking and watching some abysmal Christmas special, something involving talking animals and snowmen and, of course, Santa Claus.
“All gone?” Frank asked, stubbing his cigarette out in a cup.
“For now,” Bonnie answered. She threw herself across the bed. “They’ll be back day after tomorrow. And I’m supposed to go in and fill out some forms. File a formal complaint.”
“I’ve got a few complaints myself,” he said, drawing a line with his finger down the curve of her neck, across the soft curve of her shoulders. “And Carl?”
“He’s fine, more or less.” Her voice acquired an edge. “You got him in the arm, and only barely that. Just a flesh wound, as they say in the westerns. It was the shock that made him collapse, not the wound.”
“You’re joking.”
“’Fraid not, lover boy” She rolled over to face him. “’Course, the police are planning to arrest him as soon as he’s able to move. They’re going to charge him with assault and battery, resisting arrest, violating a restraining order. He’ll do some time, no doubt about it.”
Frank’s teeth ground tightly together. “That isn’t good enough.”
“I’m aware of that, Frank.”
“Jail time gets us nothing. He has to die.”
“I’m aware of that, too, Frank. Are you blaming me?”
“It was your plan.”
“It was your hand on the gun!” She sat upright. “You told me you could shoot!”
“I can shoot.”
“Meaning, I guess, that you can pull a trigger. But you couldn’t hit a man barely six feet away.”
“For your information, it’s hard to hit a moving target.”
“He was moving toward you, Frank. Tommy could’ve hit him.”
“Then maybe you ought to let him!” His voice swelled. “You can’t leave him at his friend’s house forever, Mommie Dearest. Why don’t you pick him up and ask if he’d like to shoot his father for you? Since you don’t have the balls to do it yourself!”
“Frank, don’t be angry-”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you! The man has to die, or this was all for nothing.”
“Frank-”
“Sometimes I can’t tell what you want.”
“I want to be with you, Frank. I want what you want.”
“That’s not how it sounded to me.”
Bonnie closed her eyes and swallowed. She had miscalculated, she realized, had pushed him too far. Now she was in danger of losing him. And she couldn’t allow that to happen. She still needed him. “Frank, please calm down. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“Didn’t mean what?”
She laid her hands gently on his shoulders and began softly kissing his neck. “I didn’t mean to blame you,” she said between kisses. She knew she had to retreat, stroke him, bring him back to the game plan. “It’s just so difficult. You know how much I lust after you.”
“Yeah, right,” Frank replied, but his voice was softening. “Me and the three million bucks.”
“It’s you I want,” she said, using her most seductive voice. “I want you right now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Frank said, but he didn’t push her away “We have work to do. When do you think Carl will be out of the hospital?”
“Soon.” She continued kissing, making her way to his head, nibbling his earlobe. “Like I said, the injury was minor.”
“But as soon as he’s discharged, the police will lock him away. And then we’ll never be able to get to him. Unless we can figure out some way for him to escape.”
“Escape?” she whispered, blowing gently into his ear. “Is that wise?”
“It’s the only chance we have. If they get him back into custody, we have no chance.”
“I see.” She was snuggling closer, pressing herself up against him. “You’re so smart, Frank. So damn smart.”
“Once he’s free, we can lure him back to the house and finish what we started this afternoon.”
“Is that possible?” She wrapped her right leg around him and squeezed. “He may be a drunk, but he isn’t stupid. He’ll never come back here after what happened today. No matter what crock I feed him over the telephone.”
“He probably won’t come back for you, true.” Frank’s hands were beginning to move, smoothing the curves of her body, searching for his favorite soft spots. “But you’re not the only ace in the hole we have with that idiot. He’ll come. And as soon as he does-” He raised his voice and adopted a near dead-on facsimile of Bonnie’s voice. “I didn’t know what to do, Officer. He was acting crazy, threatening me, hurting the boy. I had to shoot.”
“Hey, that’s pretty good,” Bonnie said. “I had no idea you were so talented.”
“Darling, you haven’t even scratched my surface yet.”
“But even if you do manage to set Carl up, won’t everyone else be suspicious? The neighbors, the police? If he comes here again, even the cops might begin to suspect a frame.”
“Not if they see him beating the kid.”
“But Carl? He would never-”
“Trust me, dear. I can arrange everything.”
“You are so bad.” She pressed herself forward, jerking his shirt free of his pants, unfastening the buttons. “And you’re so sexy when you’re bad.”
Frank smiled, wrapped his arms around her, and rolled her over. A moment later their minds were on a different subject altogether.
16
“Look, lady, if you’re not his wife or kid or close relative, you’re not getting in to see him.”
“But it’s very important.”
“There are cops on duty.”
“I’ve spoken to them. They said if I could get your okay, they’d let me in.”
“But you don’t have my okay.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
Megan pressed her hand against her brow. She hated bureaucracy. There was nothing worse. She had always thought that courthouse protocol was the most abysmal, but she was beginning to alter her opinion in favor of hospitals.
For fifteen minutes now, she’d been trying to get in to see Carl Cantrell, but she’d come smack-dab up against the Iron Maiden of nurse-receptionists. Normally she tried to stay as far away from child-napping poisoners as possible, especially when they were on the other side of a case. But she had business reasons for wanting to get in there. It wouldn’t take long. It would be over in minutes. If she could just get Nurse Ratched here to give her the thumbs up.
“Look,” Megan implored, “this is critical. A woman’s life may be in danger. And that of her son.”
“Because you can’t get in to see a patient? I don’t think so, honey.”
Megan drew herself up. “I want to take this up with your superior.”
“Good luck finding my superior. Or my inferior, either. Lady, do you not understand that this is Christmas Eve?”
“I don’t see what-”
“Most people are at home with their families. We’re on a skeleton staff here, barely enough people to keep the place running.”
“Nonetheless-”
“I’ve been on duty since four A.M., and won’t get to go home until midnight. I’ve had no relief, no coffee breaks. No chance to lie down and take a nap. I haven’t even had a chance to brush my teeth. My breath smells like death warmed over-”
“Lucky I happened by.” Megan opened her shoulder bag and rummaged around until she found the bottle of mouthwash she’d gotten from the woman at the courthouse. “Duck into the bathroom and have yourself a gargle.”
“You carry jumbo-size mouthwash in your purse?” Her eyes narrowed. “What are you, some kind of bag lady?”
“It was a Christmas present.”
“Some friends you got.”
“It was-you know-a joke. From an office party.”
“Oh, right.” Her stern exterior softened a bit. “I got one of those, too.” She reached down to the shelf beneath her station, then plopped a hardcover book onto the counter, “This was mine.”
Megan read the dust jacket. How to Catch and Keep the Mate of Your Dreams. “Well, that was very … thoughtful.”
“Yeah, right. A friendly commentary on my winning personality.” She grasped the big green bottle. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the mouthwash. You keep the book.”
“Deal,” Megan said, looking up expectantly. “And …”
“I suppose it’ll be all right if you go in there. But don’t stay too long. I don’t wanna get in trouble.”
“Understood. I’ll be brief.”
The nurse raised the mouthwash bottle and made a little salute. “Merry Christmas.”
Megan smiled back. “Ho, ho, ho.”
After the receptionist gave them the high sign, the two cops on duty outside the hospital room waved Megan through.
He was sitting upright in bed, eyes open wide. Megan was startled. She halted, staring at him. Somehow, in her mind’s eye she had imagined he would be sleeping or drugged or hooked up to a million tubes or otherwise incapacitated. Instead, he looked little diff
erent from when she had seen him in the restaurant, except that his right arm was bandaged and in a sling. Nonetheless, he looked as if he might leap out at her at any moment.
Megan felt her mouth go dry. In her days as a priest, she had been forced to spend time with all kinds of unsavory characters. But she couldn’t think of an instance when she’d been this close to a killer. This close to someone who had cold-bloodedly tried to murder his own son.
“You were at The Snow Pea,” Carl said, breaking the silence.
“That’s right. I was.”
“Who are you, anyway?” His lips curled a bit. “One of Bonnie’s friends, I suppose.”
“That’s, um, right.” Megan cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m her attorney.”
“You’re not the chump who got her divorced.”
“No, I’m … new.”
“Wonderful. And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
Megan wished she had a glass of water. Her throat was so parched she could barely speak. “I’m glad to hear you’re going to be all right. They told me the bullet didn’t do any permanent damage. That the previous wound to your arm did more damage than the bullet.”
“Your concern is touching, but if you’re here on some obnoxious errand for Bonnie, I’d just as soon you got it over with.”
“As you wish.” Megan edged forward, just close enough that she could touch the edge of the bed, then pulled two thrice-folded documents out of her purse. “This is a copy of the restraining order that was issued today by Judge Harris. It orders you to stay away from your wife, your son, and their home.”
“Ain’t that swell. Anything else?”
“Yes.” She tossed the other document on his bed. “This is to serve notice on you that a hearing has been set for the fifteenth day of January next year, at which time the judge will decide whether to make the order permanent. You can read the details in the notice. I must tell you, though, that if you decide not to attend the hearing, in all probability the order will be granted by default.”
“Thanks so much.” He stared down at the papers on the bed, but didn’t touch either of them.
Megan was puzzled. He seemed bitter, yes, but he was not hostile or belligerent. There was nothing threatening or evil about him. She realized that in the perhaps one minute she’d been in the room with him, her fear had melted away and been replaced by a different sentiment altogether.
Midnight Before Christmas Page 7
