Johnston - Heartbeat (32 page)

One of the nurses identified her for the policeman. “That’s Mrs. Hartwell. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

And she was inside.

Of course, she had to visit Susan Hartwell before she could do what she had come to do. Maybe this would be a good time to ease the path of Susan’s mother, whose marriage, Victoria had learned, was in jeopardy because of the child.

So far Victoria hadn’t been able to bring her-self to end Susan Hartwell’s life. It was the girl herself who forbid it. The seven-year-old child’s dark eyes always latched onto hers the instant she entered the room and never let go.

“Well, Susan, I’ve returned,” Victoria said, settling into the wooden ladderback chair next to her bed.

“I’m glad,” the child said. “Did you bring a book to read to me?”

“Actually, I have a copy of
Peter Rabbit.”
Victoria reached into the brown shopping bag the policeman had searched so thoroughly and pulled out the book. She eased out the syringe she had slipped between the binding and the pages of the book and hid it in her palm before handing the book to Susan. “Why don’t you look at the pictures for a while? I have someone else I’d like to visit.”

“All right,” Susan said. “Promise you’ll come back?”

“I don’t make promises,” Victoria said.

Susan grinned. “I know. Because then you don’t have to break them.”

Victoria smiled back. The child was positively delightful. She really didn’t belong in a home like this. It was too bad about the AIDS. But her father was afraid of her, and her mother feared for the other children in the household. Susan really didn’t deserve to die all alone. Victoria was glad she would be there for her at the end.

She paused at the doorway before heading down the hall to Brian’s room. She wondered why a police officer wasn’t stationed at Brian’s door but realized it was probably a matter of not enough police to go around, and it made the most sense to screen visitors before they got into the house. Victoria eased into Brian’s room and closed the door after her.

Brian was sleeping. A small light beside the bed remained on so that a night nurse could check on him. Victoria glanced at her Piaget. Stupid policeman. He hadn’t even noticed she was wearing it. She should have taken it oft but she didn’t have a substitute. 9:34. The nurse would be by to check on Brian at 10
P.M.
She had time.

Maggie had put a comfortable rocking chair in the room, and Victoria settled into it and began to rock. It was comforting to hear the creak of wood and the rustle of the live oaks outside the open window and the sound of Brian breathing through his open mouth.

She closed her eyes and rocked. Soon the pain would be gone. For Brian. And for her. She would be able to stop killing. Except maybe for Susan. She would have to see how things went with Susan. When the little girl got worse, it might be necessary to ease her pain. The shot was quick and almost painless.

Victoria felt certain that anyone with a care for the child would do the same thing. It was just that nobody seemed to care much for Susan. Except her.

“Victoria.”

Victoria opened her eyes slowly. She had been almost in a trance, and it was a shock to open her eyes and find Maggie standing in the doorway.

“I see you managed to sneak inside, after all,” Maggie said.

“It wasn’t difficult. Where’s Kittrick?”

“He stayed on the front porch to talk with the policeman-who said no one had been by here tonight except an old lady who came to visit her granddaughter.”

Victoria smiled. “That was me.” She took the syringe out of her pocket and heard Maggie hiss in a breath as she uncapped it.

“Don’t do it, Victoria,” Maggie said.

“It’s the only way, don’t you see? The only way any of us will ever have any peace.”

Maggie didn’t see how she could reach Victoria before she killed Brian. She only knew she had to try. The whole distance of the room stood between her and the other woman, while Victoria was less than three feet from Brian’s bed. Maggie had to keep Victoria talking, distract her, so that she could get closer.

“You’ve been very stupid, Victoria,” Maggie said.

Victoria sat up straight in the rocker and gave her full attention to Maggie. “I don’t see how.”

“You’ve been found out. You’re going to go to jail for the rest of your life.”

Victoria laughed. “Oh, my dear girl, you are almost as delightful as Susan.”

“Who’s Susan?”

“A little girl dying of AIDS who lives down the hall. I’ve been visiting her.”

Maggie felt a chill go down her spine. “Are you planning to kill her, too?”

“Perhaps. If it becomes necessary.”

“Are you listening to yourself? Do you hear what you’re saying?” Maggie asked. “You’re talking about taking a human life.”

“An imperfect life,” Victoria corrected. “I’ve only ended imperfect lives.”

“There’s no such thing as a perfect life,” Maggie snapped. “We’re all flawed. Porter’s weak willed. I’m an alcoholic. Jack’s haunted by ghosts. And you’re a murderer.” She was halfway across the room, yet Victoria hadn’t seemed to notice. “There’s no such thing as perfection where humans are concerned.”

“Do you really think so?” Victoria said, her brow furrowing. “That explains a great deal, I suppose. Like why I never felt loved by Richard. If love can be achieved only through perfection—and there is no perfection—then there can be no love.”

Maggie tried to understand what Victoria was saying, but it made no sense. “The only kind of love I know about is given without conditions of any kind.”

Victoria snorted. It was the most unladylike sound Maggie had ever heard her make.

“Are you saying you love Brian even the way he is? Or that Jack can love an alcoholic?”

“Of course I do,” Maggie said. “And of course he can.”

“I don’t believe you,” Victoria said.

“Call him in here and ask him,” Maggie said.

Victoria made a moué. “You really must think I’m stupid to invite him in here. What is
he,
anyway, FBI?”

“Texas Ranger,” Maggie said.

“Once the deed is done, there’s no way to prove I did it,” Victoria said.

“I’ll say you did it,” Victoria countered. “And Porter will back me up. Who’ll believe you?” she said triumphantly.

Maggie had been watching and waiting for Victoria to make her move, and when she did, Maggie launched herself the short distance that remained between them, grabbing Victoria’s wrist to deflect the needle from its goal. Victoria struggled mightily to reach Brian’s arm. Maggie was able to keep her at bay, but she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on.

“Don’t try to stop me, Margaret. This is the way it has to be,” Victoria said.

“I’m not going to let you kill Brian,” Maggie cried. She managed to turn the needle away from Brian, but it was now aimed at her own forearm.

“So you love your son, Maggie. Enough to die in his place?” Victoria said.

“Let go, Victoria, or I’ll scream for help,” Maggie said.

“Go ahead and scream,” Victoria said, shoving the syringe toward Maggie’s wrist. “Help will come too late.”

Jack felt jumpy and wasn’t sure why. According to the cop on duty, nobody had been by to visit tonight except an old woman.

“She was dressed like a bag lady but had on this really terrific diamond watch. Eccentric, I guess,” the young policeman said.

“A diamond watch? On a bag lady? And you didn’t think that was strange?”

The young man stood up straighter. “I guess I thought—”

“Call for backup,” he shouted as he sped away. “Then come find me.” Jack was already through the front door and on his way down the hall when he heard Maggie’s scream. He shoved his way through Brian’s door, his gun drawn, and found Maggie and Victoria locked in a deadly contest. Victoria clearly had the upper hand. All it would take was a quick jab and Maggie would be dead.

Jack’s heart leapt to his throat. There was nothing like the threat of losing someone forever to put things into quick and accurate perspective. He loved Maggie Wainwright. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Which meant he’d better make sure she lived through the next few minutes. But in case she didn’t, there was something he wanted said.

“I love you, Maggie.”

“A fine time you picked to tell me, Jack,” Maggie said.

“I’ve decided I can live with your imperfections.”

“All of them?” Maggie said.

“Every one.”

“This is all very touching, Margaret. It’s really too bad Mr. Kittrick didn’t say something sooner, when it might have made a difference.” Victoria turned to Jack and said, “Put down your gun, or I’ll kill her.”

“Not this time, Victoria.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you don’t let go of that needle I’m going to shoot to kill.”

“Maggie will be dead before I hit the ground,” Victoria promised, holding the needle pressed against Maggie’s skin. “Did I tell you I tried this first with a cat? Didn’t even get half the syringe pumped in before the animal was dead. Heart stops instantly. There’s nothing you can do to stop it or reverse it. Think about that, Jack.”

Jack was thinking, and he didn’t like his choices. He wasn’t going to stand by and watch Maggie die. He had to come up with some way to break this stalemate, and fast. Some way that didn’t give him the wrong result.

“Mommy?”

Jack lunged the instant Victoria and Maggie looked at Brian. He braced his left hand to shove Maggie’s wrist away from danger and brought his right hand, with the gun in it, down hard on Victoria’s wrist.

The syringe clattered to the floor.

Victoria stared at him with stunned eyes. Before she could move, he kicked the syringe into the corner.

“It’s over, Victoria.” He waited for her to make some false move, but she faced defeat with quiet dignity.

Jack met Maggie’s gaze where she sat on the bed, her arms surrounding Brian protectively. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

At that moment, the cop who’d been guarding the front door showed up and took in the situation at a glance.

“Cuff her,” Jack said. “And get her out of here.”

Once Victoria was gone, Jack turned his attention back to Maggie. “Is Brian okay?”

She nodded and said, “We’re both okay.”

But Jack could see she was trembling. He crossed and sat down beside Maggie, enfolding her and her son in his embrace. “I meant what I said, Maggie. I love you.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, swallowed hard, and said, “I love you, too.”

Jack hugged them both tighter, unable to speak past the painful lump in his throat.

Chapter 21

Jack hadn’t seen Maggie for almost a week. It had taken that long to process all the paperwork. He had been surprised this morning to read in the
San Antonio Express
that Porter Cobb had retired from the firm of Wainwright & Cobb and would be spending his time at a ranch in West Texas near the hospital where his sister had been committed. Jack wondered how Cobb’s departure affected Maggie’s position at the firm. It was one more thing to discuss with her when he finally saw her.

“All right, son, what’s the problem?”

Jack glanced up from his desk at Ranger headquarters and met Harley Buckelew’s shrewd gaze. “Problem?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I want to know why you’re still hanging around here when I know there’s a young lady in San Antonio who must be wondering where you are.”

“I haven’t quite finished the paperwork—”

Harley scooped up the papers in front of Jack and said, “I can take care of this. Cit.”

His bluff called, Jack stared at Harley, his heart pounding. “I told her I loved her,” he said.

Harley smiled. “Well. It’s about damn time you found yourself a good woman and settled down.”

“She’s an alcoholic, Harley.”

Harley frowned. “Still drinking?”

“No. She’s been sober for nearly ten years.”

Harley snorted. “A man doesn’t get guarantees with any woman, Jack. But it sounds to me like maybe she’s got her problem licked. So why haven’t you proposed to the lady?”

“I’ve been busy—”

Harley dropped the papers back on the desk and pointed a finger out the door. “Git, boy! And don’t come back until you’re ready to invite me to a wedding.”

Jack grinned, grabbed his Resistol from the hatrack by the door, and left the building with a bounce in his step. He made record time getting from Austin to San Antonio. He stopped by his house to pick up a present for Maggie, made a phone call to confirm she’d left work for the day, then headed for 200 Patterson. But Maggie wasn’t there.

Where are you, Maggie?

Because he was in the neighborhood, Jack took a chance and drove to Roman Hollander’s home in Alamo Heights. Sure enough, Maggie’s coupe was parked in the brick driveway. He pulled up behind her car and sat there for a minute, trying to decide whether what he had to say could wait until some other time.

But now that he’d made up his mind, Jack didn’t want to wait. He wanted to claim Maggie for his own, and he wanted to hear her say she’d be willing to spend the rest of her life with him. He rang the Hollanders’ doorbell, but when he got no response, went around to the back gate.

“Hey! Anybody home?”

“Jack!” Maggie cried. She came running to open the wooden gate. She had taken off her suit jacket and unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse. She looked more carefree than he’d ever imagined she could.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a smile that told him he was welcome.

Jack realized he should have held out his arms. He had a feeling Maggie would have run right into them. But he hadn’t and she didn’t, so they stood staring at each other saying nothing.

Jack felt a tug on his pants and looked down to find Amy with a handful of his jeans. “Hey, there, squirt,” he said, bending down on one knee beside her. “You look good as new.”

Amy grinned, an enchanting three-year-old smile guaranteed to steal one’s heart. Jack gave his up without a struggle. “You look pretty as a princess,” he said to the little girl.