She Can Scream (11 page)

Luke backed away, regret thinning his mouth.

“Yes?” Brooke answered, thankful for her daughter’s interruption. Luke might fan her hormones into a frenzy, but her heart couldn’t take being left behind one more time. Her ex-husband had left Westbury for the excitement of the city. She and the kids hadn’t been enough for Ian. He’d had zero interest in soccer or Scouts or any of the small activities that were part of raising kids, a sad fact that left jagged holes in all of them.

Haley jogged down the stairs. Chris was right behind her. “We’re hungry.”

Thanks to the wonders of blaring pop music, the kids had missed all the drama.

“How about a snack?” Brooke walked into the kitchen, opened the pantry, and pulled out a bag of pretzels. The kids took it to the table, and the dog took up a hopeful position on the floor.

Seeking the strength to finish the day, Brooke gulped tepid coffee.

Haley’s phone buzzed, and when she looked at it, her mouth curved into a small smile that suggested she was communicating with the new boy on her radar.

Ugh.
At fifteen, Haley hadn’t gone boy-crazy yet, but her sixteenth birthday was approaching fast, and her hyper-focus on this particular boy gave Brooke an instant headache. She was not ready for the older-boy-with-car situation.

She addressed the kids. “I need to go to the hospital and visit the woman from last night.”

“OK,” said Chris.

Engrossed with her messaging, Haley gave her an absent nod.

“I am not leaving you two here alone.” The caffeine wasn’t giving Brooke the boost she needed.

“You promised we’d work on my costume tonight for the Halloween dance this Friday.” Haley bit into a pretzel. Crumbs dropped to her lap. “And I have tons of history homework.”

“Pack your stuff up and do it in the hospital waiting room,” Brooke said in her do-not-challenge-me voice. “We’ll work on your costume when we get back.”

Haley crinkled her nose. “Hospitals are gross.”

Brooke didn’t dispute the statement. “Do you have homework, Chris?”

“Done.” He shoved a whole cookie into his mouth.

“Why don’t we drop the kids with my grandmother?” Luke said. “She’d love the company.”

Brooke turned to Haley. “Luke’s grandmother is Mrs. Holloway.”

“Mrs. Holloway?” Haley brightened. “She was one of my favorite teachers.”

Brooke considered. “Are you sure she wouldn’t mind?”

“Positive,” Luke said. “But I’ll call her and make sure if it makes you feel better.”

One quick call and fifteen minutes later they were in Luke’s car parked in front of a trim two-story. Luke’s cell buzzed on the console. An incoming call notification popped onto the screen. He picked it up and looked at the screen. His mouth tightened. The phone vibrated again, but Luke just stared at it.

“Not going to get that?” she asked, leaning forward to peer at the display.

“No.” He turned the phone off and reached for the door handle.

Oookaaay
. Disappointment prodded her. But Luke had every right to keep a phone call private. As they got out, the front door opened. Mrs. Holloway stood at the threshold. The petite gray-haired woman wiped her hands on the front of her apron. “You’re in luck. I just took a batch of cookies out of the oven. Go on back to the kitchen if you’d like some.”

Chris led the charge. Haley trailed behind him.

“We won’t be long.” Brooke sniffed. The scent of melted chocolate lingered. Her stomach rumbled. “And thank you so much for the casserole. It’ll be appreciated tonight.”

“You’re welcome. It was nothing.” Mrs. Holloway waved her off with a blue-veined hand. “Take your time. The kids will be fine.”

“I know, and thanks again.” Satisfied the kids were safe, Brooke followed Luke outside. The sun was falling toward the treetops and taking its warmth with it. Chilled air rushed across Brooke’s skin. She zipped her jacket to her chin.

Westbury Community Hospital sat on the outskirts of town. Fifteen minutes later, Luke dropped her off at the concrete apron in front and went to park the car. In the shade of the covered entrance, Brooke shivered. Discomfort crept along her nape, an instinctive tingle that signaled danger. A nurse pushed
a wheelchair out of the revolving door and waited with her bundled patient. A large sedan pulled up to the curb in front of them.

Brooke pivoted and surveyed the parking lot, three-quarters full. A few people walked to and from their vehicles. Nothing seemed abnormal there either. She rubbed the back of her neck and went inside, very glad to see Luke parking in the fourth row. At the sight of him getting out of the car, a rush of security swept through her. She turned away from it and went into the hospital lobby. As much as she appreciated his presence this week, there was no point in getting attached. Luke wasn’t sticking around. The needs he stirred up inside of her would have to go unmet. She couldn’t deal with one more failure.

The smart move would be to start his car, turn around, and drive home.

But he couldn’t.

Maddie was inside, waiting. The need inside him was swirling, growing, strengthening like a tropical storm over warm ocean waters. If he didn’t discharge the force constructively, it could overwhelm him. He’d learned that early in life. His darkest desires couldn’t be stopped, but they could be channeled.

If he proceeded, he would need to use caution.

Leaning over, he opened the glove box. Keeping his head down and pretending to look for something, he peered over the dashboard and watched Brooke Davenport enter the hospital doors. A fresh burst of excitement rushed through his veins. What would she say to Maddie? Would they talk about him?

He should wait until Brooke left, but curiosity gnawed at his discipline. The need to see them together grew to a feverish intensity.

He recognized the risk, the departure from the rules and self-control that had kept him safe from discovery so far. But it didn’t matter. Desire paced his bloodstream like a caged panther.

He stared at the brick façade of the hospital. They were inside. Together. And he had a present for Maddie.

What to do?

There was a time in his life when he’d had no control, when someone else had been in charge, when his smaller size had rendered him powerless.

“Stop it!”

He looked up from his play. The hand caught him on the cheek, the sting resounding through his skull.

His older sister, Ellie, stooped down in front of him, her face contorted in fury. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He put a hand to his face.

“I asked you a question.” Ellie raised her hand. He tried to back away, but there wasn’t much room for evasion in a trailer. He waited for the blow. Her fist clenched over his head for a long second. She dropped her hand and grabbed him by the back of the collar. “What am I going to do with you? Why can’t you just behave?”

She opened the closet and shoved him inside. “Maybe a time-out will teach you a lesson.”

In a single-wide trailer, the coat closet wasn’t much wider than a skinny five-year-old. He barely fit. The door closed. He pushed a couple of pairs of shoes aside, squatted down, and huddled on the floor. The shoes smelled like sour feet. The hems of jackets brushed the top of his head. Might as well get as comfortable as possible. Who knew how long his “time-out” would be? It might be morning before she let him out.

Good thing he wasn’t afraid of the dark. In fact, he liked it. Shadows were great places for a little boy to hide.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the house he’d lived in until just a few months ago. He imagined the quiet creek that meandered through the patch of woods behind the tiny property. They hadn’t been rich, but he’d had a lot more freedom there. With
busy working parents, he’d been mostly left alone to roam in the hours between school and dinner. He’d gotten good at catching frogs. How long had it been since Mom and Dad had died and his sister had brought him here to live?

Probably longer than it seemed.

Someday, he’d be big. He would be the one in control. No one would tell him what he could and couldn’t do. No one would hit him or lock him in closets either.

He hunkered down in the dark and waited.

Brooke went into the building and approached the front desk. The elderly guard on duty could’ve stunt-doubled for Don Knotts. Brooke gave him Maddie’s name. He typed it into his keyboard, squinted at the monitor, and wrote out a guest pass for Brooke.

“I’ll need two passes,” Brooke said. Luke walked into the lobby and joined her.

The guard shook his head. “I’m sorry. Only three visitors per guest. There are already two out for that patient.”

Luke shrugged. “I’ll wait here.”

Brooke headed for the elevator. Inside, she glanced at the handwritten number on the pass. Maddie was in room 310. Brooke pushed the number three on the panel. The elevator groaned its way up to the third floor. She followed the wall signs to the right hallway.

Brooke tapped on the doorframe. “Maddie?” she called in a soft voice in case the girl was sleeping. “It’s Brooke.”

“Come in.” The voice was stronger than Brooke expected. Still, she braced herself for Maddie’s appearance and strode into the room. In the bed closest to the door, Maddie reclined on two pillows, the white sheet folded neatly over a thermal blanket at her waist. The bed in front of the window was empty, the center curtain pulled open to expose the black glass. The lights were dimmed, but Brooke could see more than enough.

The battered right side of Maddie’s face looked worse than the night before. The bruises had purpled, her eye was nearly swollen shut, and a row of tiny black stitches closed a cut on her cheekbone. A few more sutures closed the slices in her earlobes where her assailant had torn her earrings free. An obscene necklace of bruises circled her throat like fat black pearls. Though her body lay quiet, Maddie’s hands fingered the edge of the sheet in an unconscious, repetitive motion.

In a vinyl recliner angled between the beds, Maddie’s father sat with a folded newspaper on his lap. He stood and ran a hand through his thinning hair. Mr. Thorpe clearly hadn’t slept since Brooke saw him in the ER the night before. His eyes were watery, his clothing rumpled. Could a man age overnight?

“Thanks for coming.” His blue eyes misted over as he grasped Brooke’s hand, holding on for several seconds. He glanced at his daughter, then back at Brooke. “I’ll just go get a fresh cup of coffee. Are you going to be here for a few minutes?”

“I won’t leave until you come back,” Brooke promised. If it were her daughter in that bed, Brooke wouldn’t leave her alone for a moment either. Nausea rose in her throat at the thought. She swallowed, grateful that Haley and Chris were stashed with Mrs. Holloway.

Mr. Thorpe blinked hard, took off his rimless glasses, and rubbed one eye with a knuckle. “I’ll go catch up with my wife in the cafeteria. Thank you.” He nodded and, with a tight glance backward, walked out the door.

Brooke went to the bedside. Maddie lifted a hand to grab Brooke’s. The IV line got caught on the bedrail. Brooke untangled it and squeezed Maddie’s palm.

“Thank you.” A tear slipped down Maddie’s unmarred cheek. “I thought I was going to die.”

“I’m just glad I was there.” Still holding Maddie’s hand, Brooke eased into the chair Mr. Thorpe had vacated. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts.”

“I’ll bet it does. You tell me if it hurts too much to talk, OK? I’ll still stay here with you until your dad comes back.”

“No. I want to talk to you.” Maddie shuddered. “You were there. You’re the only one who understands.”

Brooke gave her a gentle, close-lipped smile. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Maddie lifted her chin a millimeter, enough to exhibit the spunk that had likely saved her life. “You can ask me anything at all. They already sent a psychiatrist to see me. She said I should talk about it.”

“How much of a description were you able to give the police?”

“Not much.” Maddie’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Was there anything about him that seemed familiar?”

“No.” Maddie reached for a cup of water on her wheeled tray and sipped through the straw. “Nothing at all.”

Brooke switched tack. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Maddie frowned and shook her head. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, as if the movement caused her pain. “We broke up.”

“Was he upset about the breakup?”

“A little.” Looking down, Maddie picked at the edge of the sheet, rolling it between her finger and thumb, over and over. “I met someone else I thought I liked. I didn’t think it was right to keep him on a string.”

“Could it have been him last night?”

“No way.”

“How do you know?”

“Because my ex, Tyler, is Asian. This guy was not.”

Brooke froze. “How could you tell?”

“I saw his skin!” Maddie brightened. “His sleeve was pushed up. Even though it was dark, I could see that his skin was very white. Also, Tyler is thin. The man was bulkier, older maybe?”

“Did you tell the police this?”

Excitement glittered in Maddie’s good eye. “No. I just remembered it.”

“Let’s call them.” Brooke pulled out the Coopersfield officer’s card and dialed his number. The call went to voice mail, so she left a brief message.

Maddie looked pleased to have contributed some information. While they waited for the cop to call back, Brooke fished for more information. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“I like Zumba.”

“That does look like fun.”

“It is. The classes at Forever Fitness are great.”

More meat market than fitness center, Forever Fitness was in a strip mall a few miles away. A greater percentage of floor space was devoted to the juice bar than the exercise equipment. Brooke had toured it when it first opened, but found she much preferred the heavy bag in her basement. Beating on her punching bag relieved stress the way no treadmill ever could.

“Head hurt?”

“A little.”