Beyond Midnight (60 page)

He hadn
'
t shaved; hadn
'
t showered; probably hadn
'
t slept.

"
The weather. And something
'
s wrong,
"
Peaches added as
she swept past him into the hal
l and dropped her leather travel bag on the marble-tiled floor.
"
I heard it in your voice on the phone this afternoon. Is Katie all right?
"

"
Of course she is,
"
he said, annoyed by the mere question.

Had he been drinking? She searched the brooding features of his face for evidence of it but found nothing there but raging torment.

Helen Evett.
It was as she hoped: He was beginning to doubt her at last.

Peaches put her hand on his forearm and said softly,
"
Then what is it, Nat? Tell me. I
'
ve been in agony all day, worrying about you.
"

"
Unnecessary agony, in that case. I
'
m fine,
"
he said bitterly.

Despite his mood he grabbed hold of her bag and said,
"
I
'
ll take this up for you. Katie
'
s in the tub, getting her bath. She
'
ll be glad to see you,
"
he added as they made their way up the stairs.
"
She
'
s been whining for you all day long.
"

"
I missed her,
"
said Peaches simply.
"
I
'
ll be glad to put her to bed if you like.
"

"
If you
'
re not too beat. The housekeeper quit, incidentally. And I couldn
'
t find the phone number for that market that delivers—we
'
re out of milk. And why the hell can
'
t anyone make a decent sweater? Katie
'
s red one—which she insisted on for school tomorrow—turned everything pink when I tried washing it. You
'
re gone a day and a half,
"
he said,
"
and the whole house falls down.
"

Peaches laughed and said,
"
That was
your
idea, Mr. Mom.
"

"
Well, next time I get one of my bright ideas—stop me.
"

They were in Katie
'
s bedroom now. Katie heard their
voices and called out excitedly,
"
I
'
m in the baftub, Peaches!
"

Peaches turned to Nat and gave him a look much warmer than anything she had before.
"
It
'
s wonderful to be back home, Nat. Shall I take over from here?
"

"
God, yes,
"
he said abruptly, and he left her to it.

Suppressing a grimace of disappointment, she watched him leave, then went into Katie
'
s bathroom with a cheerful smile on her face. Katie was all enthusiasm; she needed someone to push her boats through the tub while she tried to sink them with her washcloth. In a minute or two, Peaches was extracting what she needed from the child.

"
And after the carnival, then what? Did you have any visitors?
"

"
Uh-huh. Mrs. Evett. And Daddy was mad at her and he was yelling and I waked up.
"

"
And did you eat breakfast with that bad Mrs. Evett?
"
Peaches asked softly, watching the door.

"
No. I diddent.
"

"
Well, good. Now I
'
m back and I won
'
t go away anymore. We won
'
t let that bad Mrs. Eve
t
t do that to me, will we?
"

Katie shook her head, apparently without comprehending. No matter. The seed was planted; it needed only occasional watering. Peaches wrapped a big blue towel around Katie, then lifted her solid little form out of the tub, stood her on a thick chenille rug, and patted her dry. Nat had laid out Katie
'
s pajamas, mismatched in two different patterns. Katie wanted Snow White on the bottom
and
the top, so Peaches went out to the dressing room to make the exchange.

When she came back, she found Katie in her father
'
s arms.
"
Hey, pumpkin,
"
he was saying in an obviously contrite voice.
"
How about if I tell you an extra long story tonight?
"

"
And Peaches, too? Two stories?
"

His voice was warm and amused as he said,
"
Okay—if you still want to hear another one. But my story is very long and very exciting: all about the adventures of Percy the Porcupine and how he got mixed up with a bunch of horses,
"
he said, rubbing his unshaved chin on the open palm of his daughter
'
s hand.

"
Daddee-e! You scratch!
"
she said in a giddy squeal.
"
Like a por
...
por
...."

"
Porcupine,
"
he said, lifting the Snow White pajama tops from Peaches as he passed by her, chuckling.

"
I
'
ll just dash out for milk,
"
Peaches told him.

"
Great,
"
he said.
"
I
'
m sorry about that. And—well, for the surly reception, Peach.
"

She tried the warm look on him again. This time, it seemed to take. His own look was melancholy, but that was all right; she could work with melancholy. She got in her car and backed out of the cobbled parking area just as the first rumble of thunder rolled through. Good. There was always the chance that the cat would be huddled in the gaz
ebo, waiting to be let inside.

If not today, then tomorrow.

****

Violent thunderstorms pounded
Salem
until midnight and then moved east, leaving the city scoured and clean in its wake. By morning, a bright sun and cool Canadian air helped lift Helen
'
s spirits out of the ditch where they
'
d spent the night.

Helen hauled Russell out of bed and loaded him into the Volvo, then picked up Scotty on her way to The Open Door. She
'
d hired the boys to paint some playground equipment, and today was the first good drying day they
'
d had in a while.

She hadn
'
t expected to see the Porsche.

It was parked, lights flashing, in front of the school
where the patrol car had sat so recently. Nat was behind the wheel, obviously in too big a hurry to go into the parking lot. Helen caught a glimpse of Peaches—who wasn
'
t due back in
Salem
until that evening—taking Katie into the preschool.

Helen
'
s spirits surged, then sank, then collapsed altogether, leaving her in emotional chaos.

Suddenly Scotty said,
"
Mrs. Evett, stop the car!
"

She slammed on the brakes close behind the Porsche.
"
What? What is it?
"

Scott threw the back door open.
"
Mr. Byrne promised us a ride,
"
he said.
"'
Member, Russ? C
'
mon! We got time.
"

"
No way,
"
said Russell sullenly.

"
Hold it right there, Scotty,
"
Helen said, but it was too late. The boy was making a beeline for the passenger side of Nat
'
s car.

"
I
'
ll get
'
im,
"
Russ said suddenly, jumping out of the Volvo.

"
Russell—the door,
"
Helen said, exasperated that both boys had left both doors open. She was leaning over to close them and move out of the way of the beeping car behind her when she saw one of the four-year-olds from the preschool being rushed across the street by her father.

Alarm bells went off. The Rosdicks were in the middle of a bitter custody battle; as far as Helen knew, Mrs. Rosdick hadn
'
t given anyone else permission to accompany her daughter. The fear was confirmed when Lisa Rosdick came running from the parking area, screaming hysterically for someone to stop her husband just as his car screamed off in the opposite direction down the avenue.

While Helen watched in astonishment, Scotty dove headfirst into the Porsche, with Russell right on top of him, and Nat threw the car into a sharp U-turn across oncoming traffic and roared off after the fleeing car.

Leaving her own Volvo standing, Helen rushed out to drag the hysterical mother from the middle of the road. They ran to her office to call the police. Helen
'
s hand was shaking violently as she punched in 911. She thought,
I
'
ll have to put it on speed dial if this keeps up.

She gave a brief description of the crime, then handed over the phone to Lisa Rosdick for the rest. Parents piled up, agog, in the hall outside her office. Another thought occurred to Helen:
Will they blame this on me, too?

And then the most horrible, belated, unbelievable thought of all.

My son is in that car, on a high-speed chase after a lunatic. My son!

She ran back to the street, more filled with shock than with rage, more filled with rage than with confidence.
How could he? How could he endanger my son?

For an agonizing eternity she waited for the Porsche to return, shepherding an embarrassed Buick. But no one came back. A police car pulled up. Helen realized, for the first time, that Lisa Rosdick was alongside her, crying, incoherent; had been there the whole time.

My son.
Helen scanned the avenue up and then down, straining for sight of the Porsche.

The officer and a couple of parents tried in vain to get Lisa Rosdick to calm down. Finally the officer—the same one who
'
d come about the graffiti—gave up and turned to Helen for information. She told him what she knew in a voice as calm as soft rain, afraid that if she lost control she
'
d never get it back again.

The officer was reassuring but cryptic, telling Helen only that everything was under control.

Peaches was there now, too. She was smiling as she said to Helen,
"
There
'
s a call for you in the office.
"

Helen felt a sudden rush of loathing for her.
"
I
'
m busy,
"
she said, and turned away.

Peaches tapped her on the shoulder.
"
It
'
s Nathaniel Byrne,
"
she explained.

Whirling back to face her, Helen said angrily,
"
Why didn
'
t you say—?
"
She bit back the rest and said,
"
Thank you,
"
then ran back to her office, seizing her phone in a death grip.

Nat
'
s voice was passionless, careful.
"
I
'
m sorry I couldn
'
t get through to you sooner; your phones have been tied up. We
'
re two or three minutes away.
"

"
I hope my son enjoyed the ride,
"
she said coldly.

"
I
'
m sorry about that, too. I made a judgment call.
"