Convenient Lies

by Robin Patchen

  She bolted upstairs.

  Brady laid the baby on the sofa and threw on his sweatshirt. By the time Rae returned, he was holding Johnny again. “Here, you take him, and I’ll go start the car.”

  Her eyes were wide and terrified.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said.

  “You were right. I’m the worst mother—”

  “No.” He sat, pulled his shoes on. “Where are your keys?”

  “Kitchen counter.”

  Two minutes later, they were backing out of the driveway.

  “Where are we going?” Rae was sitting in the backseat, trying to soothe little Johnny. The baby had calmed enough for Brady to hear the tears in her voice.

  “He’s going to be okay.”

  He wouldn’t think about the last time he’d rushed a baby to the hospital in the middle of the night. That wouldn’t happen this time. Babies were resilient. Most of them, anyway.

  He turned onto the highway.

  “Wait, isn’t Exeter closer?”

  “We’re going to the children’s hospital in Manchester.”

  “I don’t remember—”

  “They’re very good.”

  She didn’t ask how he knew. Now was not the time to tell that story. And this situation was completely different. So why were his hands shaking?

  Seemed like hours before they pulled up to the emergency room entrance. She grabbed Johnny’s car seat and ran inside. By the time he parked the car, Rae’d hurried through the paperwork. He hadn’t been in the waiting room five minutes when they called Rae and Johnny back. Brady stood, unsure.

  She stopped just before the double doors. “Please come with us.”

  Thank God. He followed her in.

  Half an hour later, the doctor, a blond woman who looked fresh out of med school, explained her diagnosis. “It’s called RSV, Respiratory Syncytial Virus. It’s fairly common.”

  Rae was seated in a rocking chair, soothing the whimpering baby. “Is there a cure?”

  The woman smiled. “It’ll run its course, like any other virus. Considering how young he is, he’s doing very well. He should make a full recovery.”

  “So there’s nothing you can do?” She looked at Brady as if he were supposed to fix it. “We can’t just leave him like this. He’s miserable.”

  “The nurse will give him something to reduce the fever. You’ll stay for a couple hours, just to make sure that wheezing doesn’t get worse.”

  Rae narrowed her eyes as if the sickness were the doctor’s fault.

  Brady cleared his throat. “What if it does get worse?”

  “Then we’ll get him a nebulizer.” She turned to Rae. “That’s a breathing machine that’ll help open his airways.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  The doctor shook her head. “You just hold the nebulizer over his nose and mouth, and he breathes the medicine in. He might not like it, but it won’t hurt him. And we probably won’t even have to do that.”

  Rae nodded, and more tears streamed. “This is all my fault.”

  “No, honey.” Brady wished he could reach her, but the doctor was in the way. “Babies get sick. That’s not your fault.”

  “Listen to your husband.” The doctor winked at Rae. “Some daddies can be pretty wise.”

  Rae opened her mouth, closed it, and nodded. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  The doctor ran her fingers over Johnny’s forehead, then looked at Rae. “It comes with the territory.” She patted Rae’s shoulder. “You’re doing a great job. He seems content, and you two obviously adore him. What else could the little guy ask for?”

  Fresh tears trickled down Rae’s cheeks as the doctor stepped out.

  A moment later, the nurse stepped into the room with a medicine bottle in one hand, a dropper in the other. She had Johnny swallowing that medicine before he knew what was happening. “Give that a little while to go to work. He’ll be all right.” The nurse stepped out and closed the door.

  Brady stepped beside Rae. He kissed her forehead and ran his hand down her hair. “This wasn’t your fault.”

  “I should’ve waited until he was older to travel.”

  “You don’t know where he got it. And you left Paris to protect him, not to hurt him. You have no control over the germs in the air.”

  “No control. My life story.”

  Brady pulled his chair across the linoleum floor. The scent of antiseptic and disease permeated the space and brought memories he’d prefer to forget. The room was nearly silent, just the sound of Johnny’s labored breathing punctuating the seconds.

  Brady could imagine how Rae was feeling. He massaged the tense muscles in the back of her neck.

  Rae sighed and stopped rocking. “He’s asleep.”

  He let his hand drop. “Sleep will help.”

  “I could use some.”

  They both could. He tugged Rae to lean on his shoulder, rested his head against the wall, and closed his eyes.

  “So,” Rae said, “are you going to tell me?”

  He opened his eyes. “Tell you what?”

  “How do you know about the children’s hospital?”

  “I’m a cop. We know stuff.”

  “You know an awful lot about babies. Their medicine, the best doctors. I have a feeling there’s a story there.”

  He leaned his head back again. “Let it go, Rae.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  True.

  He blew out a long breath. “I was married. For about a year. Before I moved back.”

  She pulled away and looked at him, eyebrows lifted.

  “We had a baby.”

  He watched for her reaction. Either she didn’t care, or she’d put on her reporter face. Probably the second. Their time together, and that kiss, proved she cared.

  He stared at the empty bed in the middle of the room, but all he saw was his son. “Charlie was born with a weak heart. He had open-heart surgery when he was a few days old. And then he was fine. Grew stronger, seemed healthy. When he was six months old, he got sick. A virus, probably not too different from what Johnny has. But his heart couldn’t handle it.”

  He glanced at Rae. Tears were dripping down her cheeks. Brady grabbed a tissue for her, but her hands were full, holding the baby. He dabbed her eyes, then his own.

  “We rushed him to the hospital.”

  “Here?”

  “We were living in Boston. We took him to Children’s.”

  “Good hospital?”

  “The best. They did everything they could.”

  She sniffed. “Brady, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “How could you have?”

  “Did Gram know?”

  He nodded. “She was a great comfort.”

  They sat in silence, the only sound Johnny’s quiet wheezing. Poor baby. But he would get over this. He was strong. Healthy. He wasn’t like Charlie.

  “And your wife?” Rae asked.

  “After the funeral, we went back to Boston. I came home after my first day back to work, and she was gone. Cleaned out the savings account, took nearly everything.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I have no idea where she is now. We only married because she was pregnant. I loved her, but not like...” He closed his mouth and let the unspoken words float away before continuing. “I wouldn’t have proposed if not for the baby. She knew that. Our marriage was fine. But I think a marriage should be more than that. I wasn’t surprised she divorced me. God help me, I was relieved.”

  She sniffed, and he wiped her tears again. He’d never known her to wear her emotions so close to the surface. On the other hand, it had been a roller-coaster day. She probably wanted off the ride.

  Rae smiled and swallowed. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  “When did that happen?”

  “Couple years ago. After Ashley left, I couldn’t stand to be in Boston anymore. I hated being so far from Charlie.” She raised her eyebrows.
“He’s buried pretty close to Gram.”

  “Oh.”

  “I called the Chief of Police in Nutfield, asked him if they had an opening for me. They’d been searching for a good detective for a while. I quit my job and moved back.”

  “And you’re happy?”

  “I haven’t been happy in a long time, Rae.” He looked at her and realized, despite everything, he’d been happier in the last few days than he had in years. But the last time his happiness had depended on Rae, she’d disappeared.

  They sat in silence. If Rae had more questions, she didn’t ask them.

  He looked at the baby, snoozing in her arms as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Seems better.”

  “I hope.”

  She shifted. Light as he was, the baby was probably starting to get heavy. Brady grabbed a pillow from the bed and propped it between her arm and the armrest.

  “Thank you,” she said. “That helps.”

  “Sure.” He studied her ashen face. “It’s scary when they’re sick.”

  “Everything about parenting is terrifying. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Scarier than Julien?”

  “If it were just me, running for my life... Yeah, I’d be scared. But trying to protect Johnny is terrifying. Knowing if something happens to me, all he has left is his father.”

  “Julien. You said he wasn’t violent with you.”

  “Never.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt Johnny, right?”

  “He wouldn’t hit him. But raising him to be an international arms dealer wouldn’t win him any parent-of-the-year awards.”

  Brady had lost one baby boy. No way he was going to lose another. “We’re not going to let that happen.”

  Thirty-Nine

  Julien followed Farah and Hector from the hotel to the waiting Ford sedan, stolen earlier that morning. It was risky to use a stolen vehicle, but if their assumptions were correct, the owner had parked the car for the day, and it wouldn’t be reported missing until long after they’d abandoned it. As Julien felt the revolver tucked into the waist of his slacks, he hoped they were right. He didn’t want any more blood on his hands.

  He slid into the driver’s seat. The car was decent but far from the luxurious feel Julien was accustomed to. The faint scent of fast food hung in the air.

  Farah sat beside him while Hector folded his too-bulky body into the backseat. Normally, Hector would drive, but Hector and Farah would need to get out of the car to grab Boyle. Julien wouldn’t show his face until the reporter was under their control. The man might recognize him and run before they could get this done.

  They started toward the reporter’s home in Queens. It was too risky to capture him outside the New York Times Tower, but according to Farah, he lived in a single family home on a quiet street. It shouldn’t be too hard to yank him into the car as long as nobody was watching.

  They were inching along in traffic when Julien’s phone rang. He pulled it from his shirt pocket and looked at the caller ID. Papa. Again.

  “Boujour, Papa.”

  “Isn’t that woman dead yet?”

  Julien’s heart nearly stopped before he realized what his father meant. “Rae’s grandmother is a fighter.”

  “Is that so? Well then, perhaps it’s time you put an end to this little family reunion and come home. You have business to attend to.”

  “Not as much, now that Geoffrey is undercutting me. Papa, is it a good idea for your sons to compete against one another? We are only hurting ourselves.”

  “Geoffrey’s way makes me more money.”

  “When he unloads the drugs. But up front—”

  “Seems you have bigger worries right now than your brother’s business.”

  His brother’s business? “Papa, it is your business, not Geoffrey’s, not mine. If you want me to take over someday, you’ll need to make sure he understands that.”

  “Take over my business? You can’t even manage your own household.”

  The words registered slowly, seemed to latch onto his insides and twist. Julien swallowed, told himself to remain calm. “My household is fine, Papa. But your youngest son is out of control.”

  Julien accelerated through a light. “We have arrived at the hospital.” He forced a casual tone into his lie. “Let me know what you intend to do about Geoffrey.” He ended the call and tossed the phone into the center console.

  Papa knew Rae was missing. There was no other explanation for his words, for all the phone calls, for that comment about Julien’s household.

  “Is everything all right?” Farah reached across the space and touched his hand.

  He loosened his grip on the steering wheel and shifted away from her fingers. “Of course.”

  Julien looked in the rearview mirror at Hector. His best friend since grade school. Surely Hector hadn’t betrayed him.

  He shifted his gaze to Farah. She’d been in love with him for years, since long before Rachel entered the picture. Their short affair had ended amicably, or so he’d thought. Would she stoop to working for his father to get back at him? Surely she knew there’d never been a chance for the two of them.

  But one of them, Hector or Farah, had betrayed him, because his father knew Rae was missing, and they were the only two he’d told.

  Forty

  Rae yawned and lifted the sleeping baby from his car seat, then stood in the early morning chill to survey the area.

  The little log cabin sat surrounded on three sides by pines and maples and oaks that towered above it like overprotective parents. Between the trees and beyond the cabin, Rae could see the sunrise reflecting across Clearwater Lake. It promised to be a beautiful day.

  The screen door squeaked open. Brady crossed the front porch and jogged down the stairs. “I’ve got the heat cranking.”

  Rae shivered in the cold. “Samantha owns this?”

  He nodded toward the south, and she followed his gaze to the row of cabins along the lake. “She owns this and the next two. She has a few more by the marina.”

  “And it just sits here, empty?”

  He grabbed Rae’s bags out of the trunk. “The rest are rented or will be occupied soon. This was the only one that’s supposed to be empty all weekend.”

  “What if someone wants to rent it?”

  He slammed the trunk closed. “She’s your best friend, Rae. She doesn’t mind losing a weekend’s rent.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s go.”

  He climbed the steps and disappeared into the cabin.

  She looked at her sleeping child and whispered, “We’ll be safe here.” For now.

  Brady had called Sam before they’d left the hospital almost two hours earlier. With the baby too sick to travel, it was clear Rae was going to stay for a while. She’d planned to find a motel in Manchester, but Brady’d had a better idea.

  He’d taken her to her house to pack her things and get his truck, then she’d followed him to Sam’s condo, where he ran inside to get the key to this cabin.

  And now here they were, just a couple miles from Rae’s house, but it felt like a different world. Cabins, from luxurious to quaint, lined the lake almost all the way around, only interrupted by the marina and a few restaurants nearer town. Rae’d spent many hours on this lake.

  Brady jogged to the car for another load. “Are you going to stand out here all day?”

  “I’m coming.”

  She walked around to the side of the cabin and peered at the water reflecting the fading colors of the sunrise. It’s was beautiful. Mesmerizing.

  Funny the assumptions Rae’d made about Brady and Samantha. She’d thought of them as provincial, especially Sam, who’d returned to Nutfield right after college. And yet Rae’s provincial friend had somehow managed to purchase multiple vacation homes along the lake. She’d made a life for herself in Nutfield, a good life, while Rae was out seeing the world. And getting into trouble.

  Brady took the final load inside, and the scr
een slammed behind him. Johnny stirred in her arms.

  She climbed the three steps to the front porch, surveying the Adirondack chairs that graced the space before stepping into the cabin.

  “It should warm up pretty soon.” Brady was placing the little food that had been at Rae’s into the refrigerator from a box on the floor.

  “Okay.” Rae shook herself out of her daze. Lack of sleep was playing havoc on her ability to focus.

  Brady closed the refrigerator door and stepped beside her. “Come on.” He placed his hand on her back, and it was all she could do not to collapse. He urged her across the living room and through a door, where a king-sized bed waited. “Put him on one side, and then you can sleep on the other. Will that work?”

  She nodded and watched as Brady lined the far side of the bed with pillows.

  Rae laid the baby safely in the center. “Chances are good he won’t roll off.”

  “Why don’t you lie down too?”

  “But I should...” Her voice trailed off. What should she do? She had no idea.

  “Go to bed, Rae. I’m here. You’re safe, the baby’s sleeping, and when he wakes up, he’ll need you to be rested.”

  She collapsed beside the baby and fell asleep instantly.

  * * *

  Johnny’s fussing woke her.

  She opened her eyes and looked around the small bedroom with the big bed. Log walls surrounded her. There was a small dresser with a mirror hanging above it. Hardwood on the floors, and a closet on the far side. She could live in a place like this.

  Johnny’s fuss turned to a cry. She stood, lifted the baby, and felt his fever through his pajamas. Seemed the medicine had worn off. She soothed him until he quieted, whimpering in her arms.

  She stepped into the living room. Brady stood on the far side, talking on the phone.

  “It’s a long story.” Brady paused. “Look, Chief, I’ll let you in on it when the time is...” He paced and listened. Rae could just make out the man’s voice through the speaker, though not the words. Brady sighed. “Right now, I need to be here. The town of Nutfield will survive without me for one day.”

  Rae soothed the baby and waited for Brady to hang up.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said.