I Know Who Holds Tomorrow (31 page)

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Authors: Francis Ray

BOOK: I Know Who Holds Tomorrow
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“I'll have that.”
“Make that two. Bring the baby a bowl of vanilla yogurt,” Madison said. The women looked at each other and smiled. The next best thing to shopping when it came to getting over your blues was indulging yourself with mounds of calories.
In less than a minute their orders were sitting before them. The two-inch-thick brownie was at least five inches across and piled nearly as high with toppings. Manda reached with both hands for the strawberry on top
that was as big as her fist. Madison deftly moved the dessert aside and gave the baby yogurt instead.
“Very well done,” Camille said, taking a bite and moaning in pleasure. “Good stuff. Push her bowl over and I'll help feed her. That way you'll get a chance to eat.”
Madison gave Manda another bite. “Thanks, but I'm not sure if she'll let you feed her.”
“As long as you're holding her, it shouldn't be a problem.” Camille held her hand out. “You or Mr. Holman won't be able to be with her all the time.”
Madison handed the other woman the spoon. Manda looked at Camille, then back at Madison. “It's all right, sweetheart. I'm not going anyplace.”
Manda inched forward and opened her mouth wide to receive the yogurt. Both women grinned as the baby smacked her lips. Between the two of them they managed to eat and feed Manda. Madison didn't know if it was the chocolate high that loosened her tongue or brain freeze from the ice cream that made her say, “Zachary bothers me. I mean, he doesn't bother me … you know what I mean.”
Camille licked her spoon elegantly. “You're preaching to the choir.”
Madison scrunched up her nose. “It's so annoying. Why did things have to change? There's enough going on in my life right now.” She wiped Manda's sticky hands.
“Life seldom takes a full schedule or being inconvenienced into consideration,” Camille said philosophically. “I'm breaking my date with Gordon tonight, but if I know him, he'll be banging on my door anyway. That's one man who can't take no, and I'm not all that sure how long I'll be able to keep saying no if he gets too close.”
Madison knew exactly what she meant. Hadn't she been hiding from Zachary because she was too scared to find out where their attraction might lead? “Zachary can be pushy, too. He's coming over tonight.” She grimaced, then straightened, a small grin curving her mouth. “You know, I think we should forget about them for one night and do something for ourselves.”
Camille pushed her empty dish aside. “I'm listening.”
 
 
Louis almost had the information he needed. Calling and trying to speak to Velma Taylor. certainly hadn't worked. She'd refused to talk to him. Now the old bat wouldn't even take his calls. That grated on Louis most of all. Everyone took his calls. He'd even tried using other names and disguising his voice, but the results were the same. She'd hang up on him. He'd have to go in person and catch her off-guard. He had his story ready.
Annoyed, he stood and began to pace. The damn president of the Chicago station was breathing down his neck for a decision. If Madison wasn't going to sign, they needed to start looking for someone else. Louis had felt like going though the phone and giving the bastard a hard kick to the balls. The prick had promised they'd hold off on a decision. It might be a scare tactic, but he wasn't taking any chances. He wasn't losing out on the money.
Just this week a manufacturer of baby furniture had called to inquire about Manda doing commercials for them. With all the baby stuff out there, the kid might be worth almost as much as Madison. Too much money was involved for Madison to mess this up for him.
“Southwest Airline Flight 102 for Amarillo is now ready to board.”
Louis picked up his briefcase and watched passengers rush to the three boarding sections. His displeasure inched up a knot. The damn airline didn't even have first class or seating assignments. He wasn't used to waiting and hadn't flown coach in fifteen years. And just as bad was the ban on smoking in the entire airport. For all his inconveniences someone was going to pay a high price.
He'd considered hiring someone, but he'd known too many occasions when confidentiality was tossed aside for the right price. He had to get the information himself. Passengers jostled him trying to board the aircraft. His aggravation turned to anger. With all he had to endure, the old lady better not give him any guff. He wanted proof that Wes was the kid's father, then he was going to nail Madison to the wall.
 
 
Louis walked out of Amarillo International Airport at 7:50 P.M. and hailed a cab. He had exactly one hour to get what he needed and get back for his 8:50 flight back to Dallas. The last one of the night. There was no way he was staying in this hick town overnight.
Puffing on his cigar, he got into the backseat of the cab and gave the
address of the nursing home. His fake beard itched, but he didn't dare scratch it. He wanted to do nothing that would attract attention. He was just another Westerner going to visit a relative. He'd dressed the part in denim, boots, and straw hat. He'd thought of everything.
 
 
Zachary thought he was prepared for anything when he arrived at Madison's house that night, but quickly found he was wrong when she met him at the door with a cordial greeting, acting as if she didn't have a care in the world. Passing Manda to him, she politely informed him she was going to a movie with a girlfriend. A few minutes later, she went out the door with a wave.
Despite it being intrusive and nosy, he went to the window just in time to see her get inside a late-model Lexus. He recognized the driver as Camille Jacobs. Seems they had patched up their problems. Too bad he and Madison couldn't do the same.
 
 
Cordon's fingers and knuckles were sore from ringing the unanswered doorbell and rapping on Camille's door. She either wasn't going to answer or she wasn't in. Either way, it peeved him. It was almost eight. They had a seven-thirty date to go to the ballpark for a Rangers baseball game. Even if she'd left a message on his answering machine at home and called his office to cancel, wasn't there an unwritten rule that you weren't supposed to cancel without giving the other person at least eight hours notice?
Hands deep in his pocket, grumbling every step of the way, Gordon went to his car. If he was dateless, someone was giving him an explanation. Madison might be calm enough by now to tell him what happened at the station with Camille. At least he'd have something to go on if she ever talked to him again.
He arrived at Madison's house twenty-one minutes later. “What do you mean, they went to a movie?”
“Just that.” Zachary leaned back on the leather seat in the den. “They're doing fine without us.”
Gordon said one explicit word under his breath, then glanced guiltily around the room.
“She's asleep,” Zachary said, picking up a deck of cards from the coffee table. “You want to play a game until they get back?”
Unknotting his tie, Gordon pulled off his jacket and took a seat. “Deal.”
 
 
Louis paid the cab with rumpled five and tens, and waited on his chance. The nursing home was a single-story nondescript beige building. Adjusting his hat, he went inside. Thanks to his inquiry about placing his grandmother there with her “good friend” Velma Taylor, he knew the layout and where the Taylor woman's room was located.
In less than a minute, he stood in front of Velma Taylor's door. Checking the hall, he entered. The only light in the room came from the eighteen-inch color TV in the far corner of the room. A small woman lay in bed with her eyes closed, her eyeglasses askew on her face. Louis wasn't a man to lose an opportunity. Silently he crept to the nightstand and inched open the drawer. He pounced on the worn Bible, then slung it back. Manda's birth was recorded there, but the space for the father's name was blank.
Finding nothing about Manda or her mother besides pictures and some worthless old Mother's Day and birthday cards they'd sent, he went to the double dresser which proved just as futile. Frustrated, he shoved the drawer back more forcefully than he had intended.
“Wh-what?”
By the time Velma had sat up and righted her glasses, Louis was beside the bed, smiling and charming. “How do you do, Miss Taylor. I'm sorry to disturb you. My name is Henry Allen, attorney-at-law. Madison Reed sent me because she wanted you to hear this in person.” He forced sadness to his face. “I have some unfortunate news for you. Manda is critically ill and it's imperative that we learn the identity of the father to help her get well.”
What little color in the woman's face drained away. “My Bridget's baby is sick? Oh Lord. Oh Lord.”
Louis nodded gravely. “There's a problem with her blood. If you'll just tell me the name of the father, we'll contact him.”
Tears streamed down the woman's thin cheeks. “Oh Lord. Oh Lord. Not the baby. Not the baby too.”
The wailing and all the crying was beginning to grate on his nerves. “We need the name.”
“The Bible says He won't put more on us than we can bear.” Her sobs grew louder, more desolate.
Louis gritted his teeth. “Stop crying and tell me the name of the damn kid's father.”
Velma, jumped at the crudeness of the language and the angry tone.
“The name!” he snapped when she continued to stare at him with her mouth agape. “I don't have all night. Don't you want to save the kid?”
Velma's tears stopped as quickly as they had started. Leaning toward Louis, she squinted to get a better look at his face. “Where's the other lawyer?”
“He's sick,” Louis put in smoothly, trying to hide his escalating anger. He'd thought she'd be so upset about the kid being ill that she'd tell him what he wanted immediately. “He sent me in his place. Ms. Reed needs to know the name of the baby's father so she can contact him and help the baby.”
“You're lyin'. If anythin' hadda happened to Manda, Miss Reed woulda called. You're lyin' and I'm gonna call the nurse.” Velma leaned toward the call button, but before she could reach it a sharp pain sliced though her. She gasped and clutched her chest with both hands.
Louis's eyes widened as the old woman slumped back against the pillows, her face pale, her breathing rapid and shallow. Spit dried in his mouth. Damn ! She was having a heart attack! He couldn't get out the door fast enough.
T
HE MOVIE WAS A melodrama where the hero died in the heroine's arms after saving her life. Disgusted with an ending that left another woman lonely and miserable, Camille and Madison walked out before the credits started to roll.
“That's Gordon's car,” Madison said as Camille pulled into her driveway. “What are you going to do?”
“Stay away from him until I'm completely over him,” she said without hesitation as she came to a stop.
Madison's hand paused on the door handle. “As men go, he's one of the best.”
Camille drew in a shaky breath. “I know. That's why this is so hard. If he were a user, I wouldn't waste a second of my time thinking about him. He cooks for me, gives marvelous foot rubs, and when he kisses me I just come undone.”
She and Camille might be developing a friendship, but Madison wasn't ready to share her kiss with Zachary just yet. The front door of the house opened. Zachary and Gordon stood framed in the light, then Gordon moved off the porch. “Looks like Gordon has other ideas,” Madison said.
“Oh my,” she said with rising panic in her voice. “'Night, Madison.”
“Good night.” Madison hurriedly got out. The door had barely closed before Camille backed up and took off down the street.
“Camille,” Gordon yelled, running a few steps after her fleeing car. When she didn't stop he turned to Madison, his handsome face fierce. “You knew I wanted to talk with her. Why didn't you stay in the car?”
Madison's chin lifted. “Because she didn't want to talk with you and neither do I at the moment.” Passing him, she went up the walkway to
the door where Zachary waited. “Thanks for keeping Manda. Good night.” She closed the door with him on the outside.
Zachary marched up to Gordon. “See what you caused.”
“I wanted to talk with Camille, and Madison knew it,” Gordon said, peeved with both women.
“Well, I wanted to spend some time with Madison, and you knew it,” Zachary shot back.
“Damn!”
Zachary's eyes narrowed. “You're gonna have to watch your language around Manda.”
Gordon studied Zachary's tense features closely. “You think you'll be around to chastise me if I don't?”
“Count on it,” he answered with complete assurance.
“Then you're not giving up?” Gordon asked, already having guessed the answer.
“Not in this lifetime.” Zachary started toward his truck.
Gordon fell into step beside him. “You know it won't be easy.”
Zachary opened the door to his truck. “Most things worthwhile aren't.”
Gordon activated the locks on his car. “See you around.”
“Like I said, count on it.”
 
 
Madison had dreamed of Zachary—a dream so erotic that, even awake, it caused her cheeks to heat, her body to yearn. She vividly remembered how he'd slowly undressed her, his lips and hands everywhere. She'd trembled beneath his touch. There had been no hesitation, no worries, only the two of them, uninhibited and needy. His mouth had been hot and avid on her breasts, her stomach. He'd savored and lingered. Frantic with need, she had whimpered for him to come into her and, when he had, she'd come apart in his arms.
Standing in front of the vanity mirror, Madison's nipples pouted beneath her sheer, ivory-colored camisole, in memory and anticipation, but this time there was no greedy mouth to take the turgid nipple and gently suckle. No slow hand to knead and stroke and drive her wild with longing.
“Stop it, Madison,” she chastised herself. If she expected to get over whatever it was, she had to stop thinking about him. With jerky movements she pulled on her blouse and trousers.
The phone on the nightstand rang. She threw it a nasty look. Whoever the reporter was, he or she was very enterprising to call before seven A.M. She slipped the gold hoop through her pierced ear lobe as the answering machine clicked on.
“Ms. Reed, this is Harriet Gamble, the head nurse at Green Oaks Convalescent Center in Amarillo. I have some bad news for you.”
Madison snatched up the receiver. “What is it?”
“Is this Ms. Reed?” the woman asked.
“Yes, I'm Ms. Reed. Is there a problem with Ms. Taylor?”
“She having some chest pains and some difficulty breathing. I thought it best she be taken to the hospital and checked out. Her doctor is meeting her there. The ambulance just left. You asked us to notify you if we had any concerns.”
Not again, Madison thought. “Yes. Thank you. How … how bad is it? Do you think it's her heart?”
“I'm sorry, but nurses don't diagnose. But it might be best if you could come,” the nurse said. “She's been taken to Amarillo General.”
Madison glanced at Manda in the crib. How much more would be taken from her? “I'll have to make travel arrangements, but I'll be there as soon as possible. Thank you for calling.”
“You're welcome. Velma is a favorite here. I've never seen her as upset as she was this morning. She seemed worried about Manda—is she all right?”
“Yes,” Madison answered, looking again toward the crib.
“That's good news. She worried herself sick about who would take care of the baby until your lawyer arrived,” the nurse said. “She showed off the pictures you sent to everyone. She's a wonderful woman. We're all praying for her.”
“Thank you.” Hanging up the phone, Madison walked to the crib and picked up Manda and hugged her. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart.”
 
 
Zachary knew exactly what he wanted to say, had rehearsed it several times on his way to Madison's house that morning. However, when she yanked open the door, her eyes frantic, he forgot all about his speech saying she had kicked him out last night before he had gotten his cap. “What's the matter?”
“It's Velma Taylor. The nurse called this morning. She had trouble breathing, and chest pains. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital. I called, but I can't get any information. I thought you were my driver coming to take me to the airport.” Biting her lip, she scanned the empty driveway.
“I'll take you. Where's Manda?” Stepping inside, he closed the door.
“In her playpen.” Madison went into the den and picked the baby up. “You don't have to bother. Stanley should be here shortly.”
Zachary didn't plan to argue. He simply stuck the Birkin under his arm, picked up the carriage and suitcase, then headed for his truck. “What time is your plane?”
“Zacha—”
He turned and stared down at her. “Let me help you, Madison. Please. I don't want you to go by yourself.”
Madison stared back at him. Relief she didn't want to feel, swept through her. She nodded. “We have the nine A.M. flight out of Love Field.”
He didn't have to glance at his watch to know it was 7:45. “With morning rush-hour traffic it'll take at least forty-five minutes to reach Love Field.”
“It can't be helped,” she said, following him out to his truck. “I didn't get the call until almost seven and I had to pack and call the station. The next flight isn't until after twelve and I wanted to get there as quickly as possible.”
He put the things in the truck's club cab before facing her. “Madison, I'm not criticizing. You got a lot accomplished in a short period of time. Let's get the rest and head for the airport.”
“I think I have everything. I've never done this before, but I didn't want to leave her with anyone.”
She looked so frenzied he wanted to take her in his arms to reassure her, but now wasn't the time. He reached for Manda. She gave a delighted laugh and came willingly. “Go make a final check of the house and we'll leave.”
“I'll be right back.”
Zachary pulled out his cell phone. He had a few calls to make.
 
 
They arrived at Love Field at 8:49. They sprinted all the way to their gate. Passengers were already lined up at the door, waiting to be the first to board, to grab the best unassigned seating.
Out of breath, Madison dug in the Birkin for her wallet. “I'm flying ticketless.” She barely glanced at the questions taped on the counter asking if the passenger had been approached by anyone to take a package or if they had left their bags unattended. “No and no.”
Used to passengers answering the questions before being asked, the young ticket agent smiled and gave Madison a blue boarding pass. “Is the baby flying with you?”
“Yes,” she answered, trying to catch her breath and watching the growing number of people gathered around the entrance door to board the plane.
Frowning, he typed more information into the computer. “I don't see that you purchased another seat. You'll have to hold her and leave her car seat outside the gate. We'll make sure it and the carriage arrives safely. The preboarding area for passengers with small children is to the right.”
Madison pulled out a credit card. It was safer for infants to travel on airplanes in their car seats. “Then I need to buy her a seat.”
“Sorry. We don't sell tickets at this counter and you don't have time to go purchase one.”
“She has a seat.” Zachary stepped up and placed his driver's license on the counter. “I have two seats for us. The answers are no and no.”
“You're going with us?” she asked.
“Did you think I wouldn't?”
“Here you go.” The agent placed the boarding passes on the counter. “You better hurry if you want to have a few minutes to get on board and get settled.”
“Thanks.” Grabbing Madison's arm, Zachary went through the preboarding area and down the ramp. Leaving the carriage outside the door of the plane, they took the first three seats. “More leg room.” Storing Madison's carry-ons, he helped her install the car seat between them.
“What about your company?” she asked, reaching for her seat belt.
“They can handle things until we can get back.”
Eyes wide, her hands paused. “You plan to stay with us the entire time?”
His gaze held hers. “Where else would I stay?”
Madison busied herself with her seat belt, her mind recalling the dream all too clearly. Her body heated, her blood pulsed. Why couldn't her driver have arrived ten minutes early instead of ten minutes late?
 
 
“Camille, I thought you'd like to know that Madison had to go out of town unexpectedly. Manda's great-aunt is ill. She took Manda with her. Good-bye.”
Gordon hung up the phone in his office at the TV station, propped his elbows on his desk and linked his fingers. He'd never heard Madison sound as rattled as she had that morning. She'd insisted she didn't need anyone to go with her. Not knowing what the situation might be in Amarillo, Gordon didn't agree. He'd immediately thought to call Zachary, but he'd left Zach's business card at his office. He hadn't thought he'd need it away from work.
The only recourse Gordon had been able to think of was to call the car service and delay the driver and hope that causing her to be held up an hour wasn't the wrong thing to do. He was almost at the station when the dispatcher had called to let him know that Madison had canceled the car. Mr. Holman was taking her to the airport.
The ringing of his private line dragged him back to the present. He glanced at the readout and unlinked his hands. Camille Jacobs. She'd call for her clients, but wouldn't give the man she had been sleeping with for the past week the same courtesy.
While he admired her professionalism and work ethic, the way she had shoved him out of her life angered the hell out of him. But he'd be damned if he'd let her know it … at least not yet. “Gordon Armstrong speaking.”

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