Read Online Broken Promise by Linwood Barclay - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linwood Barclay
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her. “Don’t hurt him.”
Marla shook her head, stunned by the request. “Hurt him? You’re the one who’s trying to hurt him.”
“No, no, please,” he said.
I managed to stand fully upright as I stepped over the curb and walked onto the lawn.
“Marla,” I said. “What matters now, more than anything, is that nothing happen to Matthew. Right?”
She studied me warily. “Okay.”
“He’s our number one concern, agreed?”
“That’s my son,” Gaynor said. “Tell her to give me my—”
I raised a hand in his direction and nodded. “We all want the same thing, and that’s for Matthew to be safe.”
In the distance, for the first time, sirens.
“Of course,” she said.
“Marla, something’s happened in the house, and the police are coming, and it’s all going to get very busy here in a few minutes, and the cops are going to want to ask all of us lots of questions, and we don’t want to subject Matthew to that, do we? Some people are going to believe one thing and some people are going to believe something else, but the bottom line is, Matthew needs to be safe.”
She said nothing, but tightened her grip on the baby.
“Do you trust me, Marla?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“We’re cousins. We’re family. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I want to help you, and I want to help you through this. You have to trust me.”
Gaynor’s eyes continued to bounce between us.
“I guess I do,” she said. I could see her grip on Matthew, who was continuing to cry through all of this, relax ever so slightly.
The sirens grew louder. I took my eyes off Marla for half a second, saw a Promise Falls cruiser turn the corner a long block away, lights flashing.
“Give him to me,” I said. I looked at Gaynor. “Is that okay with you, if she gives him to me?”
He searched my eyes. “Okay,” he said slowly.
Marla stood frozen. She’d taken a quick look up the street, too, and the imminent arrival of the police had prompted a more frightened look in her eyes.
“If I can’t have him . . .”
“Marla.”
“If I can’t have him, then maybe no one . . .”
“Don’t talk that way, Marla.” Jesus, what might she do? Run into the street, throw herself in the path of the police car, baby in her arms?
The cruiser—only the one so far—screeched to a halt and two male officers, one black and one white, jumped out. I was pretty sure I recognized both of them from my time reporting for the Standard . The black officer was Gilchrist, the white guy Humboldt.
“Give him to me!” Gaynor yelled at Marla, and advanced threateningly toward her.
Gilchrist drew his weapon, but kept it pointing toward the ground. “Sir!” he barked, his sharp voice a thunderclap. “Back away from the woman!”
Gaynor looked at the cop, pointed to Marla. “That’s my son! She has my son!”
Christ on a cracker, this very bad situation was milliseconds away from getting a fuck of a lot worse. The cops had no idea what they’d walked into. They probably thought it was some kind of custody dispute. A full-scale domestic disturbance.
“Officer Gilchrist?” I said.
The man’s head snapped my way. “I know you?”
“David Harwood. Used to work for the Standard . This is my cousin, Marla. She’s under a lot of . . . stress right now, and she was just about to hand the baby to me. And I think that’s okay with Mr. Gaynor here, right?”
“Everyone just stay right where they are,” Gilchrist said as his partner came alongside. “Would you like to bring us up to speed, Harwood?”
“It’d be easier to explain once Marla hands me the baby.”
“That work for you?” Humboldt, speaking for the first time, asked Bill Gaynor.
Gaynor nodded.
“How about you, Marla?” Gilchrist asked.
Marla took four slow steps in my direction. Carefully she handed the crying child to me. I supported him against my chest with one arm, wrapped the other around him. Felt his warmth. The stirring of his
Marla shook her head, stunned by the request. “Hurt him? You’re the one who’s trying to hurt him.”
“No, no, please,” he said.
I managed to stand fully upright as I stepped over the curb and walked onto the lawn.
“Marla,” I said. “What matters now, more than anything, is that nothing happen to Matthew. Right?”
She studied me warily. “Okay.”
“He’s our number one concern, agreed?”
“That’s my son,” Gaynor said. “Tell her to give me my—”
I raised a hand in his direction and nodded. “We all want the same thing, and that’s for Matthew to be safe.”
In the distance, for the first time, sirens.
“Of course,” she said.
“Marla, something’s happened in the house, and the police are coming, and it’s all going to get very busy here in a few minutes, and the cops are going to want to ask all of us lots of questions, and we don’t want to subject Matthew to that, do we? Some people are going to believe one thing and some people are going to believe something else, but the bottom line is, Matthew needs to be safe.”
She said nothing, but tightened her grip on the baby.
“Do you trust me, Marla?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“We’re cousins. We’re family. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I want to help you, and I want to help you through this. You have to trust me.”
Gaynor’s eyes continued to bounce between us.
“I guess I do,” she said. I could see her grip on Matthew, who was continuing to cry through all of this, relax ever so slightly.
The sirens grew louder. I took my eyes off Marla for half a second, saw a Promise Falls cruiser turn the corner a long block away, lights flashing.
“Give him to me,” I said. I looked at Gaynor. “Is that okay with you, if she gives him to me?”
He searched my eyes. “Okay,” he said slowly.
Marla stood frozen. She’d taken a quick look up the street, too, and the imminent arrival of the police had prompted a more frightened look in her eyes.
“If I can’t have him . . .”
“Marla.”
“If I can’t have him, then maybe no one . . .”
“Don’t talk that way, Marla.” Jesus, what might she do? Run into the street, throw herself in the path of the police car, baby in her arms?
The cruiser—only the one so far—screeched to a halt and two male officers, one black and one white, jumped out. I was pretty sure I recognized both of them from my time reporting for the Standard . The black officer was Gilchrist, the white guy Humboldt.
“Give him to me!” Gaynor yelled at Marla, and advanced threateningly toward her.
Gilchrist drew his weapon, but kept it pointing toward the ground. “Sir!” he barked, his sharp voice a thunderclap. “Back away from the woman!”
Gaynor looked at the cop, pointed to Marla. “That’s my son! She has my son!”
Christ on a cracker, this very bad situation was milliseconds away from getting a fuck of a lot worse. The cops had no idea what they’d walked into. They probably thought it was some kind of custody dispute. A full-scale domestic disturbance.
“Officer Gilchrist?” I said.
The man’s head snapped my way. “I know you?”
“David Harwood. Used to work for the Standard . This is my cousin, Marla. She’s under a lot of . . . stress right now, and she was just about to hand the baby to me. And I think that’s okay with Mr. Gaynor here, right?”
“Everyone just stay right where they are,” Gilchrist said as his partner came alongside. “Would you like to bring us up to speed, Harwood?”
“It’d be easier to explain once Marla hands me the baby.”
“That work for you?” Humboldt, speaking for the first time, asked Bill Gaynor.
Gaynor nodded.
“How about you, Marla?” Gilchrist asked.
Marla took four slow steps in my direction. Carefully she handed the crying child to me. I supported him against my chest with one arm, wrapped the other around him. Felt his warmth. The stirring of his
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