step would be getting her out of the house, out into the world .
But now this .
Marla with another baby.
“Are they at the house?” Agnes asked Arlene.
“Last time I talked to him, yes,” Arlene said. “I think David was wondering whether to call the police.”
“Tell me he has not done that,” Agnes said sternly. “This does not have to be a police matter. We can sort this out. Whatever’s happened, we can deal with it. Did you call Gill?”
“I called the house and left a message. I don’t seem to have his cell phone number.”
Gill, a management consultant who worked from home, had said something about meeting with a client that morning, Agnes recalled.
“Okay, I’m heading over,” she said, and ended the call.
The boardroom door opened and Jack Sturgess emerged. “Is anything the matter, Agnes?”
Her eyes locked briefly on his. “Marla,” she said.
“What?” he asked. “What’s happened?”
She brushed past him as she returned to the conference room. The board members had the look of guilty children who’d been throwing spitballs while the teacher had been down to the office.
Pickens stood behind her chair. “I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule,” she said evenly. “Something has come up that demands my immediate attention.”
She tossed her phone into her bag and left the room, passing her office and heading straight for the stairs. The elevator could take forever, especially if a patient transfer was under way. Once Agnes was out of the building, she had her phone out again, brought up a contact, tapped it.
It rang nine times before someone answered. “Yeah?” A man, sounding both surprised and annoyed.
“Gill, we’ve got a problem with Marla,” she said.
“Jesus, when don’t we,” her husband said. “Hang on, let me just . . . Okay, I was with a client. What’s happened?”
“She’s done it again. She’s taken another baby.”
“Fucking hell,” he said.
“I’m on my way.”
“Let me know what you find,” Gill Pickens said.
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m right in the middle of something,” he said.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said, and dropped the cell back into her purse.
Agnes wondered what, exactly, Gill was really in the middle of. More than likely, some slut’s legs.
EIGHT
David
I ran after Bill Gaynor as he sprinted toward my car. Marla had worn a blank expression up to now, but as Gaynor charged in her direction, her face changed. Her eyes widened with fear. I saw her glance down, probably checking to see that the car’s back door lock was set. Then she scooped Matthew into her arms and held on to him tightly.
“Matthew!”
“Mr. Gaynor!” I shouted. I reached out, tried to grab his shoulders to slow him down.
Gaynor spun around, tried to throw a punch, and in the process tripped over his own feet. As he hit the lawn I stumbled over his ankle and hit the ground next to him. I scrambled over before he could get up, leaned over him, and said, “Just listen! Listen to me.”
All I really wanted now was to keep Gaynor from hurting or frightening Marla. I wanted to bring some calm to the situation, as unrealistic as that might sound. Only moments earlier, Gaynor had found his murdered wife in their home, and he had every reason to be acting the way he was. But I was afraid, in his state, anything could happen.
He brought himself up to a sitting position, then launched himself at me. Two broad palms against my chest. I went flying backward.
He was on his feet in a second, and heading toward the car again. When he got to it, he was moving so quickly he had to brace himself. His outstretched hands hit the top of Marla’s door, and the car rocked. He reached down for the handle, yanked on it, but found it locked.
Marla screamed.
Gaynor yanked on the door handle two more times, maybe thinking he could bust it open.
“Go away!” Marla shouted.
Gaynor shielded his eyes with his hand long enough to peer through the
But now this .
Marla with another baby.
“Are they at the house?” Agnes asked Arlene.
“Last time I talked to him, yes,” Arlene said. “I think David was wondering whether to call the police.”
“Tell me he has not done that,” Agnes said sternly. “This does not have to be a police matter. We can sort this out. Whatever’s happened, we can deal with it. Did you call Gill?”
“I called the house and left a message. I don’t seem to have his cell phone number.”
Gill, a management consultant who worked from home, had said something about meeting with a client that morning, Agnes recalled.
“Okay, I’m heading over,” she said, and ended the call.
The boardroom door opened and Jack Sturgess emerged. “Is anything the matter, Agnes?”
Her eyes locked briefly on his. “Marla,” she said.
“What?” he asked. “What’s happened?”
She brushed past him as she returned to the conference room. The board members had the look of guilty children who’d been throwing spitballs while the teacher had been down to the office.
Pickens stood behind her chair. “I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule,” she said evenly. “Something has come up that demands my immediate attention.”
She tossed her phone into her bag and left the room, passing her office and heading straight for the stairs. The elevator could take forever, especially if a patient transfer was under way. Once Agnes was out of the building, she had her phone out again, brought up a contact, tapped it.
It rang nine times before someone answered. “Yeah?” A man, sounding both surprised and annoyed.
“Gill, we’ve got a problem with Marla,” she said.
“Jesus, when don’t we,” her husband said. “Hang on, let me just . . . Okay, I was with a client. What’s happened?”
“She’s done it again. She’s taken another baby.”
“Fucking hell,” he said.
“I’m on my way.”
“Let me know what you find,” Gill Pickens said.
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m right in the middle of something,” he said.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said, and dropped the cell back into her purse.
Agnes wondered what, exactly, Gill was really in the middle of. More than likely, some slut’s legs.
EIGHT
David
I ran after Bill Gaynor as he sprinted toward my car. Marla had worn a blank expression up to now, but as Gaynor charged in her direction, her face changed. Her eyes widened with fear. I saw her glance down, probably checking to see that the car’s back door lock was set. Then she scooped Matthew into her arms and held on to him tightly.
“Matthew!”
“Mr. Gaynor!” I shouted. I reached out, tried to grab his shoulders to slow him down.
Gaynor spun around, tried to throw a punch, and in the process tripped over his own feet. As he hit the lawn I stumbled over his ankle and hit the ground next to him. I scrambled over before he could get up, leaned over him, and said, “Just listen! Listen to me.”
All I really wanted now was to keep Gaynor from hurting or frightening Marla. I wanted to bring some calm to the situation, as unrealistic as that might sound. Only moments earlier, Gaynor had found his murdered wife in their home, and he had every reason to be acting the way he was. But I was afraid, in his state, anything could happen.
He brought himself up to a sitting position, then launched himself at me. Two broad palms against my chest. I went flying backward.
He was on his feet in a second, and heading toward the car again. When he got to it, he was moving so quickly he had to brace himself. His outstretched hands hit the top of Marla’s door, and the car rocked. He reached down for the handle, yanked on it, but found it locked.
Marla screamed.
Gaynor yanked on the door handle two more times, maybe thinking he could bust it open.
“Go away!” Marla shouted.
Gaynor shielded his eyes with his hand long enough to peer through the
Similar Books
