Chasing the Wind (39 page)

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Authors: Pamela Binnings Ewen

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Suspense

BOOK: Chasing the Wind
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Amalise heard the children shouting and laughing in the background. She wondered if Luke was with them.

She glanced at her watch. She could leave when dinner was delivered to the conference room. Take a break. No one was likely to notice her absence with the constant traffic in and out of that room right now. The clients would be leaving soon, and she'd be back by then. Only the lawyers would hang around to work all night.

The very human desire to be part of the present joy at the house on Kerlerec Street was overwhelming. And she longed to see Luke, to validate the risk she'd taken. She looked down at the stack of purchase agreements and made up her mind. She'd finish them up when she returned.

She'd be there around dinnertime, she told Caroline. But just for one hour.

The front door on Kerlerec Street was unlocked, and she walked on in, through the living room and into the kitchen, following the noise. The kitchen was bright and warm and cheerful. The family was seated around the table, Caroline at one end, Ellis at the other with his back to the door. The children were arranged along each side, and every little face looked up when she appeared.

Caroline, still wearing an apron, rose and stretched out her arms, wrapping Amalise in a hug. Ellis twisted in his chair, exclaiming, and stood. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment in that embrace, feeling the smile spreading inside, glad that she'd come. When she opened her eyes, she saw Luke sliding from his chair, arms stretched out and reaching for her.

Ellis moved in when Caroline released her. "Thanks," he whispered in her ear. Luke tugged on her skirt, and then Daisy and Nick and Charlie joined the party. After all the greetings were exchanged, she knelt and lifted Luke into her arms. Ellis offered her his chair, but Amalise headed for Luke's. "I'll sit right here."

Luke settled back against her when she sat, curling an arm around her neck. Daisy sat beside them. Caroline swept away the remains of supper, while Ellis pulled a large tub of ice cream from the freezer.

Strawberry, she saw, as the children whooped. All but Luke.

Caroline filled bowls and passed them around. Amalise and Luke shared one.

When everyone's plates were full, they held hands around the table and Ellis thanked God for their new home, for the adoption approvals, and for bringing Amalise into their lives.

A half hour passed and Caroline lifted her fork, pointing it toward Ellis. When he looked up, she nodded toward the clock on the wall behind her. He turned and frowned.

"Right," he said. Reaching for Charlie's ice cream bowl, he winked and scooped up a bite.

"Ellis's got to go in to work tonight," Caroline said to Amalise. "But he wanted to be here when you came, to thank you for all you've done for us."

Standing, Ellis looked at her and smiled. "A complete stranger comes into our lives, and look what's happened." He spread his arms. "We can't thank you enough."

Amalise wrapped her arms around Luke and rested her chin on his head. "You're welcome," she said.

Ellis dug into his pockets and pulled out his car keys. "We've got a ship coming out of Venezuela tonight."

Caroline walked with Ellis to the front door, while in the kitchen the children continued to laugh and talk. Amalise, with Luke quiet on her lap, was content to share their joy. It seemed no time at all before the clock told her it was time to leave as well, to get back to work.

When she pushed back the chair, Luke slumped back against her, and she realized that he was fast asleep.

"The children have had a big day," Caroline said, looking at him.

"May I take him up to bed?"

"Sure." Beside her, Daisy held up her spoon and insisted that she stay. Amalise laughed and patted her head as she stood, holding the sleeping child.

Caroline stood. "Bath time, children. Boys first, then Daisy." Ignoring the howls, she looked up at Amalise. "Luke can skip his bath tonight." She glanced at him. "Are you sure he's not too heavy?"

Amalise thought of Phillip Sharp's weight. "No," she said, hiking Luke up. His head rolled against her shoulder. "He's not."

Luke and Daisy's bedroom was small, with twin beds, one on each side with a window in between. The curtains were pulled back, and through the misted windowpane Amalise could see the top of the oak tree that held Daisy's swing, and above the tree, a sliver of yellow light, the moon, shining like the grin of the Cheshire cat.

Gently she lowered Luke to his bed and pulled the covers up. His eyelids flickered with dreams. She hoped they were good dreams. She hoped that some of his terrors had faded away.

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. Then she tucked the covers around him and tiptoed out the door. Robert's threat rose again, hanging over her as she hurried down the steps, resolving that from this moment on, until the closing was complete, she'd think of nothing but her work.

She'd reached the bottom of the steps when she saw Caroline's wide eyes fixed on something behind her.

Turning, she saw Luke standing on the top step, rubbing his eyes and looking down at her. Pulling his fists away, he moved forward, flinging out his arms and calling, "Mak! Mak!"

In the split second before he fell, she saw it all. As in slow motion she saw his bare foot reaching for the stair below and slipping past the edge. She saw his little body twisting, lifting in the air, arms thrashing for balance. She cried out and started forward, watching him tumbling, tumbling, tumbling down the stairs. It seemed an eternity that he fell.

She had the only car, and Charity hospital was closest. An ambulance would take too long, she said. Together, Caroline and she maneuvered Luke into the back seat, so that at last he lay curled up there, weeping, with pillows tucked along his side to brace him, and a small blanket covering him. As she drove, he quietly wept, calling to Mak, his heaving little sobs ripping through her heart. He whimpered each time the car bounced over a pothole in the street or changed speeds or turned.

"Soon," she would say each time. "We're almost there."

Later she remembered little of the race to the hospital, lights streaming by on Canal Street until at last the huge gray edifice that was Charity appeared. She followed the flashing
Emergency
signs to the rear entrance.

All thoughts of the conference room on the eighteenth floor of the First Merchant Bank building had vanished from her mind.

She wrapped the blanket around Luke, sliding and coaxing him from the back seat. Then she bent down and scooped him up into her arms. He screamed when she lifted him.

The emergency room was as busy as a Saturday afternoon at D. H. Holmes department store on Canal Street. The sick and injured were packed in rows of molded plastic chairs, and every chair was filled. More people sat on the tiled floor, slumped against the walls, waiting. Some occupied a row of stretchers and gurneys. Across the way she saw a row of small rooms sectioned off by thin walls and hidden by drab gray curtains. Treatment rooms, she supposed.

Bright lights lit the high-ceilinged room to a white haze. The walls were gray, like the curtains across the way. The waiting room was a warehouse of misery.

Amalise made her way through the mass of humanity to reach the check-in desk. A large clock on the wall over the desk read 6:45, but Amalise looked past it in a daze.

A receptionist, whose name tag read "Jackie," looked at Amalise and Luke over her glasses. She slid several sheets of paper across the counter. "Fill these out, please."

"Is there some place that he could lie down?"

The woman shook her head. "We're full." She glanced past Amalise and scanned the room. "There're places on the floor. It's good thing you have a blanket."

"But he's just a baby."

Jackie's eyes flicked up, then down, and she nodded. "If a gurney or a cot becomes available, I'll let you know." She nudged the forms again toward Amalise. "Sooner you fill these out, the faster you'll see a doctor."

Amalise took the papers. "How long will we have to wait?"

The receptionist shrugged. "You'll have to wait your turn."

"But this child is in pain."

Jackie's voice was firm. "No one's here because they're feeling well."

Amalise began filling out the forms while Luke squirmed against her.

When she'd finished, the woman tore off a sheet and handed it to Amalise. "Give this to the doctor when you see him." She sorted through the rest, scanned it, and pulled out a file.

Amalise nodded.

They found a place near the wall. She dropped her purse beside her feet, spread the blanket on the floor, and laid Luke down upon it. Once he was still, she wrapped the blanket around him, cocooning him. Then she sat down and slid him toward her so that his head and shoulders rested on her lap.

At last, she looked up at the clock. Quarter after seven.

How long until Robert noticed and sounded the alarm?

Chapter Forty-One

Bingham Murdoch had not intended to
spend much time in the conference room this evening, the privilege of a client. This was what lawyers got paid to do. But Robert was hanging around, and so he'd stayed to keep an eye on him. He knew Robert's type—dangerous when they're close to money and hit an impediment. Amalise was one possible impediment.

Yet there'd been no hint of trouble stirring in the Marigny. He'd sent the private investigator down there to wander around the neighborhood, sit at café tables, talk to the owners and bartenders, and pick up any rumors or gossip that might be circulating about the project. So far, nothing.

Bingham looked about, counting heads. Besides himself and Robert, Adam was there with reinforcements he'd called in from New York, two young associates whose names Bingham could not remember. Then there was that redhead Rebecca, Preston, and Raymond, still in his D. B. Cooper shirt. The others were off foraging for food or hanging out in their offices so they could breathe without fighting for air.

Bingham watched as someone he'd not seen before walked around the conference table, moving from one stack of documents to the next. "Who's that?" he asked when Raymond walked by.

"Bank of California's counsel, here for the closing."

Bingham nodded. A minute later the door swung open, and someone else came in as Preston went out. Beside him, Robert blew smoke. Bingham watched the new guy through the deepening brown haze. After time, he figured out this was the lawyer from the bank issuing the letter of credit.

At eight o'clock Preston returned with another armload of documents. Raymond stood and said something to him, and then they both turned and looked at the clock. Raymond shrugged, and Preston dumped the documents on the table.

Bingham looked about. Still no Amalise Catoir. He shot a covert look at Robert and caught him checking the clock too. Robert shifted in his chair, preparing to stand up and cause some commotion, Bingham was certain. The young man had no self-discipline. Bingham's arm shot across him. "Not yet."

Robert lowered himself back into to the chair without looking at Bingham. "If she doesn't show soon, I'm ringing the bell."

"She's in her office. You'll look like a fool."

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