Lost Innocents

by MacDonald, Patricia

  They waited, watching the window. Holding their collective breath. Suddenly there was a movement at the window. The blinds slid open and shut. Only once. But they had all seen it.

  “All right,” said Pete, smiling. “All right.”

  Now that it was a go, Nick’s stomach churned. He tried to put the image of Terry Lewis, lying in a pool of blood, out of his mind.

  “You ready, Father?” asked Frank.

  Nick nodded.

  “Now all we want you to do is talk to her,” said the trooper. “Don’t try anything fancy. You could jeopardize the lives of all the others. Forget James Bond. Just stick to the religious stuff, and try to downplay the consequences. I don’t want you making her any promises like she won’t be prosecuted for this…”

  Pete Millard laughed derisively. “Not much,” he said.

  “But,” continued the trooper, “try to be reassuring. No such thing as a hopeless situation…blah, blah, blah…it’s very important not to get her any more agitated than she already is.”

  “I understand,” said Nick. His stomach was doing a roller-coaster turn.

  “You got no safety net here,” Frank warned him.

  Nick nodded again, not trusting his voice.

  “Raise your hands over your head,” the state trooper advised.

  Nick did what he was told. He said a silent prayer and stepped out in front of the headlights of the assembled police cars, the cordoned-off spectators, and the news organization vans.

  Frank Cameron shook his head. “Are they sure about this? I don’t like it,” he said.

  “Sometimes these nuts will listen to a priest when they won’t listen to anybody else. I’ve seen it happen before.”

  Frank curled his lip. “She’s too far gone. He could end up a hostage, too. Or worse. I wouldn’t risk my life to walk in there.”

  The trooper shrugged and watched the man walk, arms uplifted in a gesture of surrender, toward the comfort station. “It’s his funeral,” he said.

  “Let’s hope not,” said Pete.

  Chapter Forty-six

  Maddy winced as she laid her coat out on the floor as a pallet for the children. “Why don’t you lie down on this,” she urged Amy, who had been weeping and clinging to her ever since the bullet struck her mother’s side.

  “It’s all bloody,” Amy cried.

  “I know, honey,” Maddy whispered, “but Mommy needs your help. Maybe if you lie down, Justin will lie down too, and rest with you.”

  Amy wiped her tears and looked at the baby, propped up beside her mother with renewed interest. This would be better than sleeping with a teddy bear. To have a real live baby sleeping beside you. She got busy arranging herself on the coat.

  Maddy shivered and pulled her sweater tightly around her midriff, trying to deaden the pain she felt where the bullet had entered. After the first searing shock of it, the pain had diminished, and now sharpened only when she moved around. All she had on now in the unheated building was a thin cotton shirt, blood-soaked under the arm down one side.

  All in all, there had been less blood from the bullet wound than from the blow she had received on her head. But she wondered what damage it had done or was still doing. When she’d first realized that Bonnie had shot her, there was a moment where the room had begun to blacken into a pinpoint, and her teeth had begun chattering madly. Maddy recognized that she might be going into shock and willed herself not to succumb. She couldn’t leave Amy and Justin to fend for themselves. She tried not to let the children see how much it hurt. They were frightened enough as it was, and at one point both of them had been sobbing. Bonnie had brandished the gun near them, warning them to shut up. Maddy had managed to calm them both down, managed not to shriek, but she felt as if her whole body were tensed up against the cold, the terror, and the exhaustion.

  “Okay, I’m ready for him,” Amy announced, extending her arms for the baby.

  Maddy knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Justin was not a teddy bear, but a hungry, frustrated little baby. She wondered if she could even lift him onto the outspread coat. She took a deep breath and used her arm muscles. She moved him as quickly as she could, and Amy began to coo at him to lie down with her and go to sleep. Maddy was trying to muster enough breath to croon them a lullaby when suddenly she heard the bullhorn announcement that Father Rylander was outside and wanted to come in.

  Father Rylander? It took her a few moments to realize that they were talking about Nick. Nick, she thought. What in the world was he doing here? Her heart welled up with a kind of giddy hope. She didn’t care. He was here. That was all that mattered. And he was willing to come into this lion’s den. She glanced at Bonnie, wondering how she was going to react to this suggestion. Bonnie stood staring blankly at the window, tapping the gun on the windowsill. Maddy didn’t dare ask. She resumed singing softly to the children and waited.

  “What does he want?” Bonnie muttered.

  Maddy wasn’t sure it was a question. She hesitated to speak. Bonnie turned and peered at her. “What do you think he wants?” she asked.

  Maddy patted Justin and Amy, curled up together in her coat. She knew better than to antagonize her captor. She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess he wants to help.”

  “Speak up,” Bonnie demanded.

  “To help,” Maddy said louder. “He wants to help.”

  “He wants to help you, maybe,” Bonnie scoffed.

  “I don’t know how he ended up here,” Maddy admitted. “He was on his way to Canada.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “I wonder if he knows about Terry.” She caught Maddy’s unwilling eye. “He knew Terry really loved me.

  Maddy nodded, taking some encouragement from Bonnie’s pensive tone of voice. “He told me about you and Terry,” she said carefully. “He told me all about your love story, and how much you two meant to each other.”

  “See,” Bonnie exclaimed.

  “That’s what he said to me,” Maddy agreed.

  Bonnie looked out the window again, toward the sea of cars and police and the certain doom that awaited her outside this building. “What good can he do?” she said hopelessly, but a querulous note hung in the air.

  She needs a way out, Maddy realized. Maybe she wants me to convince her to let him in. “He might know something that will help,” she said, casting about for the right words. She felt as if she were tiptoeing through a den of rattlers. It was important to get her mind off the pain and focus on finding the right words. “He’s a priest, Bonnie. He won’t lie to you. You know that, at least. And he’s on your side. You know how much he cares for you and Terry.”

  Bonnie turned and gazed at Maddy and the children. “I should put an end to this whole thing right now,” she said in a weary voice. She pointed the gun at them.

  Maddy flinched, knowing that Bonnie was all too ready to shoot. She was not toying with them. Her desperation was genuine. Genuine and very dangerous.

  “Why put an end to it,” said Maddy, forcing herself to sound calm, “until you hear what he has to say? There’s no hurry, is there? I mean, they can’t get to you while we’re in here. It might help to talk to someone who really understands…”

  Bonnie sighed. “All right.” She turned and pulled the cord on the blind up and down. Maddy felt as if she had been punched in the chest. She nearly doubled over with relief and surprise. She knelt by her daughter’s side, waiting, not looking up, as Bonnie watched from the window. After what seemed like an hour, although it was only minutes, she heard Bonnie walk to the door and open it.

  Maddy felt the breeze that came for a brief moment through the open door. She looked up and saw him as the door closed behind him. He was wearing street clothes, a gray sweater, and his face was grim with worry. He looked at her, saw the blood caking on her face, staining her side, and it was all he could do not to cry out. Their eyes locked together for a moment, and Maddy sent him an unspoken warning. She said nothing and did not even smile. He understood and tore
his gaze from her wounds, from her face.

  Nick turned to Bonnie. He knew what she was now—a killer, a kidnapper, a person who savaged the laws of man and God. She had killed an innocent schoolgirl, shot her own husband, and now had spilled the blood of the woman he was in love with. She backed away, pointing the gun at him.

  “What do you want?” she said.

  “To help you,” he said sincerely. Her gun did not frighten him. He belonged here. He had been thinking of the words in Matthew 9:12: “They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.”

  “You can’t help me,” she said scornfully. “I think I’ll kill you, too.”

  “I’ve seen Terry,” he said, ignoring her threat. “I’ve talked to him. He’s not dead, Bonnie. Did you know that? Did you know he’s still alive?”

  The police had shouted to them that Terry was alive, through the bullhorn, but Bonnie had dismissed this information as a tactic. “You’re just saying that, right? Just to get me to leave. He was bleeding all over the floor.”

  Nick shook his head. “He wanted me to say the Twenty-third Psalm for him. He held my hand so tight, I thought he’d break it.”

  “He is strong,” Bonnie said eagerly. Now she studied Nick’s face and decided he was telling the truth. Her eyes lit up. Her slumped shoulders rose, then fell again. “I didn’t believe them. I thought for sure he was dead,” she said.

  Nick ignored Maddy and the children on the floor, though he ached to rush to them. How badly was she hurt? he wondered. He had to free her, to get her to the doctor outside. He realized that Maddy didn’t even know about Doug. Didn’t know that her own husband was dead. But he was not about to say anything to her. Only one thing was important now. Everything else could wait. If he didn’t get Bonnie through this, none of it mattered. “I know, Bonnie. But he’s not dead. He’s not. I swear it. I’m not saying he’s in good shape. You know better. But he’s a stubborn guy. You know that. He’s a fighter. He doesn’t quit.”

  Nick smiled at her, and she smiled back. For a moment her plain, angular face was suffused with love. Maddy felt as if she had seen a glimpse of Bonnie’s soul, the corner of it that was pure. The corner that Terry Lewis had touched. Nick, Maddy realized, was able to pierce right through to that part of her—maybe because he was the one person who had known them, not doubted or criticized, and could testify that they had loved. Or perhaps because he radiated understanding, acceptance.

  No wonder she let him in, Maddy thought. She felt as if Bonnie’s hatred were beginning to seep away with Nick’s words. She hesitated before she spoke, glancing at him for his approval. He nodded slightly.

  “Bonnie,” Maddy said gently, “maybe everything isn’t as bad as you thought.”

  “He is a fighter, isn’t he?” Bonnie said, beaming at Nick.

  “He’s a tough guy. But there’s a good heart in him,” Nick agreed.

  The light suddenly went out in her, and Bonnie was gray and bitter again. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Even if he gets well, he’ll hate me….”

  Maddy looked anxiously at Nick. “That’s not true,” she said. “It was a quarrel that got out of hand. Everyone has quarrels. My husband and I have them all the time. It’s not the end of the world.” As she spoke, Nick avoided her gaze, and Maddy had the sudden conviction that he already knew about Doug’s latest disgrace. Her face flamed at the thought.

  “How did this happen? I know how much you love Terry,” Nick said gently.

  Bonnie’s face sagged, and she had to stifle an impulse to reach out and clutch at his arms. “He found out about the baby. He said he didn’t love me. He said he never did, Father. She can tell you. She heard him.”

  Nick knew that Bonnie was referring to Maddy, but he did not allow his gaze to move from Bonnie’s face. “He might have said something in anger that he didn’t mean.”

  Bonnie drew back again, hardening, remembering the sting, the welt, of her husband’s words. “He doesn’t want me. I have nothing left to live for,” she said.

  “He felt betrayed about the baby. You can’t blame him for that. You would have felt the same way. But Maddy’s right. You’re not the first lovers who ever quarreled.”

  “No,” she agreed in a small voice. Then, remembering the enormity of her action, she shook her head. “But most people don’t shoot each other.”

  Maddy saw real compassion for Bonnie in Nick’s face, in his eyes. “There is such a thing as forgiveness,” he said. “Terry has it within him. I know he does. He has the capacity to forgive you, and maybe you two could find your way back to one another.”

  Bonnie suddenly jerked herself out of the reverie of a happy reunion. “What do you know about it? You’re a priest. You don’t know anything about love. And don’t give me a lot of God and Jesus talk. I’m warning you. I’m not like Terry. I don’t believe in all that. I didn’t let you in here for that. I don’t know why I did let you in here.”

  Maddy stifled a gasp as pain stitched into her again. Bonnie was so erratic, it was hard to know which way she would turn. Nick remained calm.

  “I think you needed to talk to somebody. Somebody who knows you. Knows what you’ve been through.”

  “Knows that I have nothing left,” she said.

  “What about Sean?” he asked.

  Maddy’s head jerked up; she could hardly believe her ears. Sean? she thought. Doesn’t he know? Don’t they know about Justin Wallace? What the hell is going on here? Does he think she’s insane? She’s not out of touch with reality. She knows perfectly well that she’s a kidnapper and a killer. Is he trying to get her to shoot us? Maddy was furious. It was as if he had been walking surefootedly along, carrying them all on his shoulders, and had suddenly decided to make a preposterous leap. Nick caught her horrified expression and threw her a glance that said “Trust me.

  Bonnie reacted in exactly the same way as Maddy. “Sean?” she cried. “Don’t you know who he is?” she demanded, waving the gun at the baby. “I…kidnapped him. I killed the girl. Don’t you know anything?” she screamed at him. “There is no Sean.”

  Nick gazed at her keenly and didn’t flinch. “Of course there’s a Sean,” he said.

  Bonnie started to tremble. “No. You’re crazy,” she said.

  “I know this boy is Justin Wallace. I know that,” Nick said softly. “But there is a Sean. Sean was a dream you had. The dream of a life that you wanted to have with Terry. I went to Maine, Bonnie. I went to the house where you used to live, and I met Colleen. I went there to see if there was someone who could help you out. You know, after the accident and all. You and Terry were trying to make a new start, and everything seemed to be going wrong.

  “Colleen told me a lot about you. She told me about your mother, and what a hard life you had with her. Colleen said nobody deserved to be loved more than you.”

  Bonnie snorted. “She doesn’t know about my mother. Nobody knows about that. Or about the accident, and what really happened. I’m sure she wouldn’t be saying nice things about me if she knew that.”

  Nick tried to ignore her words, though they fed his suspicions about the “accidental” demise of Bonnie’s mother. He tried not to think about it. He had to concentrate on convincing her. “Colleen told me about what a good friend you were to her. How much you helped her, and how she missed you when you left.”

  “I took her baby, too,” Bonnie said defiantly. But her voice quivered. “I’ll bet she didn’t tell you that. Because she doesn’t know that. I pretended he was Sean. That day of the baptism. I told her I would take care of him and then I brought him here, and said he was Sean. But there never was any Sean. Don’t you see?”

  “I know,” he said quietly. “I know it was her son I baptized that day. George junior. But I also know that to you, it really was Sean. Wasn’t it?”

  Bonnie looked at him aghast. “Aren’t you mad at me?” she asked, and her voice burbled, sounding like that of a small child.

  Nick opened his hands wide. “You
had your dreams. Sean— he was your dream. Of the life you wanted. Of a family to love. It wasn’t so much to ask,” he said. “Something you had never known. You made him real to Terry. And he was real to you. He lived in your mind and in your heart.”

  Bonnie turned away from him, and Maddy, holding her breath, braced herself against the wall and started to rise unsteadily to her feet. Bonnie shook her head, trying to reject this added burden he had put on her. She found his understanding unbearable. She was used to criticism and neglect. She had a vast tolerance for it. But her weary psyche started to crumble under the repeated blows of his compassion.

  “All right,” she said. In a warning voice she asked, “Just tell me this. Did Terry say he still loved me? Did he tell you that?”

  Nick hesitated, knowing what she wanted to hear and knowing it wasn’t true. Maddy, from where she was now standing, saw the fatal unwillingness to lie written on his face. Bonnie read his hesitation and immediately recognized the truth.

  “You tried to trick me,” she cried. “I knew it.” She raised the gun at him and let out a howl. Maddy lunged forward, propelling herself off the wall, and clawed at Bonnie’s face, knocking her glasses askew and throwing her off-balance. This time Nick did not hesitate. He grabbed Bonnie’s arm and pinned it behind her. After prying the gun from her fingers with his free hand, he held the weapon out to Maddy, who reached for it, seized it.

  Briefly Bonnie thrashed like a demon, and then, suddenly defeated, she slumped to her knees and began to weep. Nick lifted her gently, as if she were a balky child. Maddy edged toward the door, her gaze fixed on Bonnie as if she were a tiger at rest who might turn, at any moment, and pounce. But Bonnie was in another place. She didn’t even notice.

  Maddy went to the door, opened it, and threw the gun out onto the lawn. As it left her hand and sailed into the darkness, her heart finally lifted. She hardly felt the pain in her side. Turning back to the children, who were timidly lifting their faces from the folds of her coat on the floor, she opened her arms to them.