Blood Country (21 page)

The old man cleared his throat. “I’ve seen worse. In France, 1944. No, that wasn’t it. She was just so scared of something. Hunted looking. Whoever did that to her should be horsewhipped past an inch of his life. You know what I mean?”

“Yes. I most certainly do.”

S
TUART PICKED THE
phone up on the first ring and said simply, “Hello,” but Claire could tell by his voice that he had some good news. His voice was lighter and higher and happier.

The floor of the hospital moved away from her as she stared down at it, but Claire managed to say, “Meg, is she there?”

And he answered her, “She is. Sitting right at the table. Right as rain.”

“She’s fine?” Claire felt tears splashing on her cheeks. She held on tightly to the line of the phone, not wanting this news to be pulled away from her. Her sister safe in the hospital, her daughter back.

“Couldn’t be better. Some guy chased her, but she got away and hid in the woods.”

“Oh, my God.” Claire felt a river of fear run through her. Then she stood up straight and wiped her face. She breathed in deep and said, “Can I talk to her?”

“Of course.”

A pause, and then Meg’s sweet, clear voice came on the line. “Mommy, where are you?”

What a question! “I’m a ways away. Aunt Bridget has had an accident, so I’m in the hospital helping her out. She’s fine, but I might have to stay here for a while. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I was scared, but I didn’t let that man get me. Just like you told me. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Rich brought a baby pheasant over. He let me hold it. Can we keep it? He says it’s okay with him. He’s going to teach me how to take care of it and everything. Not very many kids have pet pheasants.”

Claire laughed. Anything and everything, they could keep a pet gorilla, but she was the mom. “We’ll see, honey. When I get home we can talk about it. Who’s staying with you now?”

“Stuart, Rich, and Ramah. We’re making popcorn. When will you be home?”

“I hope soon. I might have a little more work to do.”

“Can I stay up until you get home?”

Claire found herself saying easily, “Yes, you can stay up as late as you want.”

Thinking, I want to tuck my daughter into bed tonight myself. Fluff the pillow. Pull the sheets up around her shoulders. Kiss her white forehead. Touch her before she goes off to sleep. Tell her that nothing will ever hurt her again, and really mean it this time.

23

B
ridget was stretched out on a hospital bed in a white room. She had a bandage on her left shoulder. Her right foot was elevated and swathed in cotton. She had never felt so alive. The pain had left her, swirling away in a mist of painkillers. She had given in to them. Bless doctors, bless farmers, bless pharmacists. As she requested, they had not put her out, but they had given her a light sedative. That and a couple good shots of Novocaine, and she came through the surgeries feeling fine, and remembering little.

Claire walked into the room, and Bridget waved her fingers at her. Claire looked so impressive in her uniform. Trustworthy, like a Boy Scout.

“Hi, big sis,” Bridget said to Claire as she leaned in close.

“You pretty out of it?” Claire asked.

“Now, that’s all relative.”

“What day is today?”

Bridget thought hard. She knew the information was someplace in her brain and retrievable, it just seemed hard to find the right path to wander down and find it. Which didn’t mean she couldn’t answer the question. “My day off.”

“Quite a day you’ve had.”

“Is it still the same day?”

Claire looked at her watch. “Fifteen minutes to midnight.”

Claire pulled up a chair and sat down, resting her arms on the crisp white sheets of Bridget’s bed. “What happened?”

A big man walked in behind Claire, and Bridget felt afraid. She didn’t want him in the room. She would make him go away. Having decided this, she simply closed her eyes, and he disappeared.

“Hey, Bridget, it’s just Bruce. You remember him, don’t you?”

Bridget shook her head no and kept her eyes closed. He looked hulking and dangerous to her. She didn’t know him. She wanted him to go away.

Bruce said, “I saw you at Steve’s funeral.”

Claire whispered to Bruce, “I think she needs peace and quiet. She’s still recovering. Let me talk to her for a minute. Then I’ll be ready to go.”

Bruce left the room, and Bridget opened her eyes when she heard the door close. “I don’t like him.” Claire took her hand, and Bridget thought of their mother. When they were sick, she would come and sit next to them and hold their hands. She wondered where their mother was now, if there really was a heaven. Would Mom have been waiting for her by the white tunnel if she had died?

“Well, he worked hard to find you. He’s probably why I’m here right now. You don’t need to like him. What happened to you? Who shot you?”

Bridget’s eyes wandered up to Claire’s face. She wrinkled her brow and then let her fece relax. “I don’t remember. It’s so fer away. The shock and the drugs are making me woozy.”

Claire’s hand gripped Bridget’s harder. “You really don’t remember anything about this guy?”

“Not much.”

“Why did you get in the truck with him?”

Bridget thought back to how it had all started, the feeling she had about the safety of the small town. “I think I thought I was going to where you were.”

“Do you remember anything about the man? Was it just one guy?”

“I think it was only one, but I really can’t picture him. He’s a blur.”

“What did he want?”

Bridget picked at the sheet and then said, “I think he had seen me before.”

“Where?”

“I’m not sure, but he knew who I was.” She wasn’t sure what she should tell Claire. “He liked me.”

Claire’s face grew large as she leaned in toward Bridget. Bridget felt the urge to push her away. “Bridget, did he rape you?”

“No, he didn’t get that fer. They checked here at the hospital.”

“Would you recognize him again?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. Does Chuck know where I am?”

“I’ve tried your house a couple times. He’s not home.”

“Probably at his brother’s. He’ll be home soon.” Bridget rubbed her stomach. She remembered something else she had to tell her sister. She pointed at her belly and announced, “Claire, I’m pregnant.”

Claire moved away and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes, so I’ve heard. How do you feel about that?”

“I think I want it. Will you help me?”

“Absolutely.” Claire patted her leg, and Bridget felt safe again. “First we have to get rid of this guy.”

“I
‘M GOING TO
call him King Tut,” Meg announced as she placed the small bird in his new home.

Rich felt a laugh bubble up in him, but he coughed it down. “King Tut? That’s a pretty important name.”

“Hey, he’s a pheasant The royalty used to keep these birds in China. He should have an aristocratic name.”

“King Tut it is.” Rich had found a packing box, cut the sides down, and lined the bottom of the box with sawdust and pebbles. A bowl of water would keep the little bird through the night. He’d bring feed in the morning. Meg had agreed to go to bed only if the bird could sleep in her room. She was falling asleep, so he said that would be fine. She had brushed her teeth and washed her face, and changed into pajamas with dancing girls in hula dresses on them. She was stretched out on the bed, looking over the edge at the bird.

“Why did that other bird peck him?”

“It’s hard to say. Maybe the other bird felt like he was in a tight spot and took it out on Tut.”

Meg thought about that for a moment. “Maybe Tut grabbed the biggest piece of corn and the other bird wanted it.”

“Possibly.”

“What if Tut would have died?”

“He would have gone to bird heaven. But I got there in time.”

“Did the other bird know it might be killing him?”

“I’m not sure what goes on in their bird brains.”

Meg laughed at that. “Bird brain. I get it.”

Rich looked down at her smiling face. Her small teeth looked like pearls in her mouth. Her bangs were swept back off her face, and her hair spread out on the blanket like a dark halo. There were bits of her mother written on her face, but she was coming into her own as a person.

^“
Well, I think his royalness, King Tut, needs to catch a little shut-eye.” Rich reached down and stroked the pheasant It would be interesting to see what a pet pheasant would be like, how personable it would get.

Meg scrambled under the covers. “Will he sleep all right without his brothers and sisters? Will he be lonely?”

“Not with you here.”

Meg tilted her head back into the pillow. “Could you stay for a while and watch and make sure that he falls asleep?”

“Sure. I could do that.” He turned off the light in the bedroom and sank down into an easy chair in the corner of the room. He thought of saying something about sleeping tight and not letting the bedbugs bite, but he decided that Meg was worrying about more than bedbugs tonight.

A
ND NOW HE
was bringing Claire home. They had sent off a squad of cops to find the pickup’s tracks near the field where Bridget was found. Everything had worked out this time. Her sister, although injured, was safe, her daughter found, and a thin sliver of moon shone on the lake as they drove alongside it. Bruce thought of the really happy ending this could have, where he swooped her up in his arms and she welcomed him. Claire had been very quiet since they left the hospital. Bruce wondered, as always, what she was thinking, where she went sometimes when she was sitting next to him in the car but seemed to disappear.

“What are you going to do next? Do you consider Bridget’s kidnapping your case?”

Claire’s voice broke as she turned to him. “Of course I do. I couldn’t give it away if I wanted to.”

“Bullshit. The Pierce County police looked pretty comfortable sitting in the lobby, guarding Bridget.”

“That’s exactly it. No room for comfortable in this case.”

“My guess is that the guy who took her is not from Pepin County, so you’re going to need a liaison with the Cities.”

“Am I? Who’s going to know if I go look around?”

“Claire, this isn’t about looking around. This is about catching the bastard. Now, stop playing coy with me. We don’t need to talk tonight I know you want to see Meg. But I want to hear from you tomorrow. And we need to plan this out.”

Claire hesitated. Bruce didn’t like her hesitation. What was she up to? “Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Did Bridget have anything interesting to say about this guy?”

“Not really. She was pretty out of it. I’ll try to pull more out of her when I see her tomorrow.”

Bruce pulled into her driveway. Lights were on all over the downstairs. “Do you want me to walk you in?”

“No need. I’m sure Stuart is still here. His truck is in the driveway.” She turned and touched his shoulder. “I’ll blink the lights at you.”

He laughed. “Great. Then I’ll know you’re safe.” He reached out and slid his hand around her neck. “Claire—”

She turned toward him and let him pull her in closer. “Thanks, Bruce. You’re my best pal.” When he kissed her, she didn’t resist, but she wasn’t really there. He let go of her before she could pull away.

T
HE FIRST THING
Claire did once she was in the door was call Chuck again. She had tried a couple times from the road and from the hospital, but he hadn’t been home. Finally he answered the phone. She told him briefly and minimally what had happened to Bridget.

Chuck hadn’t even missed her. His voice splintered as he tried to explain why he hadn’t been worried. “I just thought she was with you. She left me a note saying she was going to visit you. Here she’s been kidnapped, and I didn’t know anything. What should I do?”

Claire told him to go to River Falls. She told him where the hospital was. She told him how Bridget would be. But she didn’t tell him that Bridget was pregnant. That she left to her sister.

Stuart had cleaned her kitchen. He was drinking a cup of coffee and doing the crossword puzzle in an old paper. The sink had been scoured, all the dishes put away. The kitchen was cleaner than she had ever seen it since she had moved in. Was she such a bad housecleaner, or was Stuart the best?

“Thanks for straightening up.”

“Had to do something with myself. Amazing what a little soap and water will do for the dust that collects on your shelves.” Although Stuart’s voice was lively, Claire knew he must be beat. After all, he got up at four-thirty to bake.

“You cleaned my cupboards too?”

“It’s been a long night.”

Claire nodded toward the stairs. “How does she seem, Meg?”

“Fine. A little frantic. I actually think she’s rather proud of herself. But I don’t know if she let herself think about what might have happened to her. I certainly wasn’t going to point it out to her. I figure that’s your job, Mom.”

“Let me go take a peek at her. I assume she’s sleeping?”

“Haven’t seen her in an hour. I assume so.”