Read Online Stolen in the Night by Patricia MacDonald - Free Book Online Page B

voice. “I’m saying, Mother, that I believe Tess knew what she was
     talking about. She was a smart little kid. Nobody conned her into anything.”
    Dawn rolled her eyes. “Jake, we’re all upset by this but your attitude isn’t helpful.
     How could Tess be right when the evidence proves that it wasn’t Lazarus Abbott who
     killed Phoebe?”
    “Test results…” Jake scoffed. “Everybody acts like God himself ran the tests. Let
     me tell you something. I’ve got a guy on my crew—Sal Fuscaldo—you know Sal, Mom…”
    Dawn nodded wearily.
    “He wasn’t feeling good, so the doctor sent him for blood tests at the hospital lab.
     The results came back positive for some kind of acute leukemia. Sal asked the doctor
     what that meant, worst case, and the doctor told him he might have only four to eight
     weeks to live. Can you imagine? Sal was making out his will and picking out his cemetery
     plot. His wife, Bea, nearly had a breakdown. But the doc thought Sal didn’t seem sick
     enough for that diagnosis so he sent him for a spinal tap, just to make sure. Guess
     what? There was no cancer. The lab goofed. They sent Sal’s results to somebody else.
     Some other poor slob thought he was off the hook and then found out different.”
    Tess shook her head. “This was important. I’m sure they checked those results several
     times,” she said.
    “Oh, and you don’t think it was important to Sal whether he lived or died?”
    “You know what I mean,” said Tess.
    “That’s a true story, Tess. About Sal,” Jake said. “You wait and see. They’re going
     to find out they made a mistake at the lab.”
    “How I wish that were true,” said Tess.
    Dawn shook her head. “I’m almost glad your father didn’t have to live to see this
     day. Lazarus Abbott declared innocent. After all that we went through…” The three
     sat in silence for a moment, numb, all lost in their own thoughts. Then the phone
     began to ring.
    “Don’t answer it,” said Jake.
    Dawn stared at the phone. “It could be a reservation.”
    “It’s the press. Hounding us,” said Jake. “Trust me.”
    Dawn hesitated and then took her son’s advice and ignored the phone’s ringing. The
     machine picked up. A reporter from CNN wanted to tape an interview with the family
     and left his number. Dawn shook her head “What do we say to them?” she asked.
    “We don’t have to say anything,” said Jake. “It’s not our problem. Lazarus Abbott
     had a trial. He went to prison for Phoebe’s murder. He lost about a million appeals.
     He was executed. End of story.”
    There was a tapping on the voile-curtained French doors that led to Dawn’s quarters
     and they all jumped. Then Dawn sighed and stood up. “What now?” She walked over to
     the doors and pulled back the curtain, peeking out into the hallway. Then she let
     out a sigh of relief and opened the door. Julie came into the room, wearing a puffy
     mauve, quilted jacket over her hospital uniform.
    “I came as soon as I could get away,” she said to no one in particular. She pushed
     her glasses up on her nose and looked sympathetically at Tess. “The hospital was buzzing.
     Everybody’s talking about it.”
    “That’s not what my sister needs to hear right now,” said Jake to his wife.
    “Well, excuse me,” said Julie. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”
    “It’s all right,” said Tess. She looked at her brother and his wife, still together
     but no longer in sync. Once, long ago, they were like bookends—Jake and Julie, youth
     and beauty. Now Julie waddled and wore glasses and kept her faded blonde hair styled
     in a sensible haircut. Jake, ungroomed but still good-looking, seemed to look at his
     wife with distaste. For a moment, Tess felt critical of her brother’s superficiality.
     Julie might no longer be the eye candy he married, but she was still the same kind
     person who was loyal to Jake’s family in their darkest hours. She had always been
     a