Torn Apart (19 page)

Katie shuddered. “I still don’t understand. Angela is always so—”

“Angela isn’t there. She had her baby early,” J.R. said. “There’s just a temp who was unaware of the protocol.”

Hershel shook his head sympathetically. “It’s not often that I wish a parent had snatched his own child, but I have to say, given the alternative, we were sure hoping you had him.”

J.R. reached for Katie’s hand. “We’ve had our ups and downs the past few months, but I would never have scared Katie like that. Ever.”

“Okay,” Hershel said. “So that’s that.” He took out a notebook and pen. “Had either of you noticed someone paying too much attention to Bobby?”

Another wave of guilt washed over them as they looked at each other. Because of the fight, their son had been living two separate lives.

“We never saw anyone, but I just found out that he’s been talking to J.R. about a monster living in Bordelaise. The only time he ever mentioned it to me was on the way to church last Sunday. He said something about the monster not living in New Orleans.”

“Can you pinpoint an incident that started his fears?” Hershel asked.

Katie nodded. “It started a few months ago, right after J.R. had come home for the weekend. Bobby woke up screaming. Nearly scared us to death. By the time we got to his room, he was crying hysterically and claiming there had been a monster looking in his window.”

J.R. nodded. “We wound up sleeping with him the rest of the night. He talked about the monster at my house, too, but I never put it together like that. I thought the monster had to do with him being upset that Katie and I weren’t living together. I thought he was acting out because of the stress.”

Hershel started making notes. “How can you be sure he wasn’t referring to a fictional monster, like the one under the bed…or in the closet, like other kids?”

“He never had imaginary friends,” Katie said. “And he never had bad dreams, unless he was sick. When he ran a fever, he sometimes had nightmares. When he mentioned the monster Sunday, I was shocked.”

“Why?” Hershel asked.

Katie glanced up at J.R., then back at her hands. “He was talking about Daddy’s new house, and how he was going to get a puppy because of the big backyard, and that he liked going to New Orleans because the monster didn’t live there. It was the first time he’d ever said anything to me about a monster being in Bordelaise. When he mentioned it, I immediately thought of that night.”

Hershel turned to J.R. “Tell me exactly what he said about this monster when he was with you.”

“There were several times it came up, but each time I always thought he was trying to find a reason for me to move back or for Katie to come with him…you know? He’s seven. He didn’t always have the words to express the way he might be feeling.”

“For instance?” Hershel asked.

J.R. thought for a moment. “One day we were shopping for groceries. Without thinking, I put a jar of orange marmalade in the grocery basket.”

“I don’t get it,” Hershel said.

“I’m the only one in the family who likes it,” Katie said.

Hershel nodded. “Okay…you forgot Katie wasn’t with you for the moment. How does that—”

“Let me finish,” J.R. said. “When Bobby saw me do it, he called me on it, reminding me that was Mama’s jelly, but that Mama wouldn’t get to eat it unless he took it back to Bordelaise.”

Katie had never let herself think of what Bobby’s time had been like with J.R. Knowing that her little boy had been trying to compartmentalize his allegiance set off a new wave of guilt.

“Oh, Lord,” she said, and covered her face.

J.R. put his arm around her and pulled her close as he continued with his story.

“Anyway, I asked him if he missed his mother when he was in New Orleans with me. He hesitated, then said yes. Then I asked him if, when he was in Bordelaise, was he sad because I wasn’t there? He shrugged and said that he was used to me being away sometimes, but he wasn’t used to being away from Mama.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Katie cried.

“We weren’t talking, remember?”

Katie’s shoulders slumped.

“Back to the subject of the monster,” Hershel said.

J.R. nodded. “It was what he said next that made me think he was just trying to gain some leverage and get us back together. He said that we should try and get Mama to move to New Orleans because the monster lived in Bordelaise.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” Katie said. “He was telling us over and over that there was a monster, and we didn’t believe him.”

“This isn’t definitive by any means,” Hershel said. “But it does give us a place to start. It’s obvious he wasn’t taken for ransom, or we would have heard something by now. We’ll be cross-checking the DMV listing in this parish against owners of a newer model blue truck to see if any names pop out. And I’m also requesting a list of registered sex offenders for this area.”

J.R.’s stomach rolled again. He couldn’t let himself think about what Bobby might be going through. He wouldn’t think about the emotional damage that could result. All he wanted was his son back—alive.

“What can we do?” Katie asked.

Hershel sighed. “Let me do my job.”

“I can’t just sit here and wait,” she insisted.

“You can pray,” Hershel said. “God knows we’re going to need all the prayers we can get to make this right.”

At that point Penny came back with four coffee-filled mugs and a plate of cookies on a tray. She stopped in front of Katie first.

Katie’s stomach rebeled. “I don’t—”

“Shush,” Penny said. “You didn’t eat enough at supper to even dirty your plate.”

Katie didn’t argue. She just took her coffee and cookies, and watched as Penny served the two men.

“Thank you,” Hershel said, and promptly downed a cookie in three quick bites.

“So do we have a plan?” Penny asked.

Hershel frowned. “There’s always a plan. Problem is, they don’t always pan out. I can’t make promises about anything except that I won’t stop looking until we bring Bobby home.”

Suddenly, J.R. remembered Brent mentioning that several people had died.

“My boss told me there were casualties. Needless to say, my heart nearly stopped until I found that message from Katie on my phone.”

Hershel nodded. “Yes, four, actually. Old man Warren died during the evacuation of the nursing home after the storm was over. Heart attack. His funeral was Wednesday. Then today we buried the Norths.”

“All of them?” J.R. asked.

“Yes.”

“Good Lord,” he said.

The last time he’d seen Frank and Maggie North, they’d been beaming proudly at one of Carolina’s book signings. It was a source of pride for everyone in Bordelaise that one of their own had become a famous author.

J.R. pulled Katie a little closer, quietly thanking God that she was still alive.

“I’m sorry,” Hershel said then, as he set his coffee aside. “I’d better be going now. If either of you remembers anything else, call me.”

“We will,” J.R. promised.

Penny showed the police chief to the door. Once he was gone, she turned with her hands on her hips, a don’t-argue-with-me expression on her face.

“You’ll both be staying here with me until this is over.”

“We accept, with much gratitude,” J.R. said. “Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble?”

Penny glanced at Katie, then sighed. “Obviously she hasn’t told you, but I feel as guilty about Bobby as the both of you want to feel. I was the one who was watching the children when the sirens went off. I’m the one who let this happen.”

Katie immediately spoke up. “No. That’s not true,” she insisted. “Holly and Bobby were playing in one of the tunnels. When the siren went off, Holly got scared and ran for the church. She forgot about Bobby being in the tunnel, and Penny didn’t know. She looked behind her to check, and the playground was clear…. It was crazy. Of course she assumed he was on his way inside with the other children.”

“Then how did Holly know?” J.R. asked.

“She finally remembered him and started to go back. Just as she turned around, she saw him climbing out of the tunnel, and then he stumbled and fell. And then Holly said she saw a man get out of a blue truck, throw Bobby over his shoulder and get back in the truck, then drive away. Before she could say anything, she was knocked down in the rush to get inside and hurt her hand. I’m sure that injury made her forget. Later she heard everyone talking about the tornado taking him and her parents said he’d gone with God, so she put her own spin on it and decided she’d seen God taking Bobby to heaven in his truck.”

“My God,” J.R. muttered. “So how did they find out what she’d seen?”

“Pictures,” Katie said.

“Pictures?”

“Frances said she kept drawing pictures of the storm and the church and the playground, and in every one, there was a man in a blue pickup. Holly said he was God, and everything snowballed from there.”

“Katie’s right,” J.R. said to Penny. “It’s not your fault. We’re the parents. We misunderstood the warning signs. The horrible truth is that the monster he’s been so afraid of is real, and he finally saw his chance and took it.”

Penny blew her nose, then stuffed the tissue back into her pocket.

Unable to talk about what had happened without crying, she said, “Katie can show you where you’ll be sleeping. There are clean towels in the bathroom. Help yourself. I’m going to wash up the dishes and go to bed.”

“Good night, Penny, and thank you again,” Katie said.

“Thank you for taking care of Katie for me,” J.R. added.

“You’re both welcome—now stop thanking me,” Penny muttered, then grabbed the tray and hustled out of the room.

“I’m going to get my bag from the truck. I’ll be right back,” J.R. said, then hesitated when Katie grabbed his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Like we just told Penny, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“If I had moved when you wanted, this wouldn’t be happening, and you know it. The monster lived in Bordelaise, not New Orleans. Remember?”

“I’ll say it one more time, then this subject is forever closed between us, understand?”

Katie nodded.

“The only person at fault in this nightmare is the sick son of a bitch who took our son. And I promise you, Katie, when they catch him, if the law doesn’t kill him, I will.”

Katie shivered as she watched J.R. walk out the front door. She knew her husband well enough to know that was not an idle threat.

As soon as he came back inside, he stopped long enough to lock the door behind him, then held out his hand.

Katie threaded her fingers through his.

“The bedroom is this way,” she said.

J.R. followed, emotionally torn. On the one hand, he was relieved to learn Katie had escaped injury, even though the house was destroyed. But it was impossible to rejoice. This was a nightmare from which he needed to wake. All he could think about was how small Bobby was, and how innocent, and what he might be going through.

Katie closed the door to the bedroom as J.R. dropped his bag at the foot of the bed. When she hesitated, he took her in his arms. Twice he started to speak, and both times failed. Finally his voice grew husky; then it started to shake as he said, “I have to say this. I have to say it aloud or the words are going to explode inside me.”

“Say what?” Katie asked.

“What if we never see him again? What if we never know what happened…if he suffered…if he died thinking we—”

Katie put her hand across his mouth. “Don’t! I will not believe that. I will not believe that God would do that to me twice,” she said fiercely.

J.R. groaned as he pulled her close, then buried his face against the curve of her neck.

Katie held him, needing his comfort as much as he needed hers. They were as wounded as two people could be and still be breathing.

Finally it was J.R. who pulled back. He cupped her face, then lowered his head and kissed her. Once. Gently. “Forgive me?”

“For what? I’m the one who—”

He pressed a finger to her lips and then shook his head. “For leaving you alone. I should have waited. I shouldn’t have tried to force you.”

Katie took his hand and placed it over her heart. “You shouldn’t have had to try. It was a fabulous opportunity for you to finally be home with us, and all I could think about was myself. I should have gone with you.” Then her voice broke. “Now I have something I need to ask you, and you have to swear you’ll tell me the truth.”

“Always.”

“What if I’m wrong?”

“Wrong how, baby?” he asked.

The words spilled out, one on top of the other, as if she was afraid they would get caught and choke her to death before she got them said.

“What if we never see him again? You say it’s not my fault, but how will you feel as time passes? When months pass and his birthday rolls around. Will you look at me and think, If she’d just come with me, we’d still have our son? Will you, J.R.?” She dug her fingers into his arms. “Will you? You have to tell me now, because I won’t be able to bear losing him—and you—all over again.”

J.R. groaned. “No, baby, no. I don’t have the words to explain what you mean to me. All I can say is that you and Bobby are the reason I draw breath. If something happens to one of you, that won’t make me turn on the survivor. I’m not made that way.”

Katie shuddered. “I’m so scared.”

“So am I, Katie, so am I.”

“Will you hold me? I’ve been alone for so—”

“Hold you? God forgive me, but I need more than a hug.”

Katie sobbed, then threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. Making love to him now had nothing to do with lust. Emotionally, it was what they needed to seal their promises to each other—vows as honest as the ones they’d spoken the day they were married.

J.R. pulled Katie’s shirt off over her head, unzipped her pants and slid them down around her ankles, then picked her up and laid her down on the bed.

Katie was trembling as she watched him undress. He’d always been fit, but now she could see he was thinner—evidence of his own stress and suffering.

Please, God…you gave me back my husband. Please give us back our son. Please, God, please…give me a second chance.