In Like Flynn (30 page)

Thirty-four

I
need to take this, if you don't mind,” I said to the child as I bent to pick up the wooden elephant. “It came from Brendan Flynn’s Noah’s ark and I know one little girl who will be very happy to see it.”

“Out! Now! Before I get my shotgun!” Amos Clegg roared. He opened the front door wide. The rain had now started in earnest, great fat drops thudding down onto the dirt.

“You can't send them out in this, Amos,” Johanna begged. “There’s going to be a storm any minute.”

“It was their choice, coming here,” Amos said. “This ain't the Bible. I don't have to offer shelter. You folks had better make a run for it before the creek rises.”

I wondered if Daniel was going to attempt to arrest them and was glad when he turned and said, “We'll be back, Mr. Clegg, with a warrant for your arrest.”

“You can't prove anything. I ain't done nothing wrong,” Amos blustered, waving his fist dangerously.

“Threatening a police officer will do to start with,” Daniel said. He led me outside and assisted me aboard the buggy and cracked the whip. As we started off, we could hear Amos Clegg yelling at his wife. Probably hitting her, too. My mood matched the foul weather. I felt plunged into gloom. I should have been jubilant that Brendan was still alive, but the odds of finding him were slim. And I couldn't stop thinking about the cowering Johanna, who had chosen marriage to that brute rather than bear a child in shame. Maybe she had had no choice. It was an unfair world where women were punished and men went their merry way.

It was the last of a gloomy twilight and thunder now rumbled over the mountains across the river.I draped the rug over us, but it soon became sodden and we huddled together miserably. Heavy splatters of rain soon turned into a solid, drenching sheet. We couldn't see more than a few yards ahead of us. Then the horse stopped so abruptly that I was almost thrown over backward.

“Oh no,” Daniel groaned.

What had once been a gentle ford was now a raging torrent, wide and fierce.

“We can'triskcrossing that,” I said.

“Even if I could persuade the horse to try, which I don't think I can,” Daniel agreed.

“So what do we do now?”

Daniel shrugged. “Go back and try tofindan inn or some kind of shelter until the water goes down.”

It took long weary minutes to back up the wagon and turn it around. The horse clearly thought little of Daniel’s horsemanship and eyed him with disdain out of the comer of its eye. In the end I had to jump down, take the bridle and sooth the animal into backing up. I had just got the wagon turned around and was attemptingtoclimb back aboard when there was a brI'lliant flash of lightning right overhead, accompanied almost simultaneously by a mighty crash of thunder. The horse neighed and took off at a full gallop. I was thrown down from the buggy and landed in the mud. By thetimeI had picked myself up, they were out of sight.

I ran in the direction they had disappeared, but I had little hope of catching a galloping horse, especially as my skirts became sodden and weighted with mud. I was soon soaked through, shivering, and feeling very sorry for myself. Darkness had now fallen and there was no sign of any light indicating a place where I might take shelter. I slithered and trudged along the muddy track until I could make out a shape lying to one side. I made my way toward it and found Daniel lying there, unconscious.

“Daniel, are you all right?” I knelt beside him and cradled his head in my arms. He felt cold.

“Daniel. Speak to me, please!”

He still didn't move.

I fought to remain calm. “Daniel. It’s Molly. Wake up, please.”

I put my cheek to his mouth but was able to detect no warm breath on those cold lips.

“Please don't die,” I begged. “You can't die. I won't let you. Please.”

I sat there while the rain beat down on us. I tried to shield him with my body, but it was hopeless. Tears streamed down my face and mingled with theraindrops.I had neverfeltmore lost and alone in my life. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to leave him to go for help. I didn't know where to go. Then lightning flashed again and it occurred to me that I was likely to be struck if I stayed where I was. I wasn't doing Daniel any good sitting here crying. I dragged him to the side of the road and laid him under some bushes. “You'll be safe here until I come back,” I whispered. “I don't want to leave you, but I have to. I'm going to get help, Daniel.”

But I felt as if I was talking to a rock. I started to walk away. At the nextflashof lightning, I looked back. He hadn't stirred. I kept walking. Then there was a great gust of wind followed by a moment’s silence, during which I heard quite clearly, “Why am I having a cold bath?”

“Daniel!” I ran back to him.

He was sitting up holding his head. “My head hurts,” he muttered. “What am I doing here?”

“The horse bolted. You must have been thrown out and hit your head.”

“I couldn't have been thrown. Not an experienced horseman like me. It must have been a branch that knocked me down.”

The old cocky Daniel. I threw my arms around him. “Saints be praised, you're all right.”

“Of course I'm all right. What happened to the horse?”

“Long gone,” I said. “And we're in the middle of nowhere.”

“You'd better help me up,” he said and staggered to his feet, letting out a yell of pain.

“Go carefully now. Is anything broken?”

“My legs seem to be okay,” he said, “but you yanked me straight into some thorns.” A swift thought crossed my mind that men are much better in theory than in reality!

We staggered together along the track, hoping that the horse had recovered from its fright and was standing waiting for us. No such luck. It was the most gloomy and desolate side road that I had ever seen. The half darkness had now turned to absolute blackness and we stumbled over rocks and stepped into deep puddles.

“This is madness,” Daniel said at last. “We needtofindshelter.”

“Show me a light and I'll take you to shelter,” I snapped, my sweet nature wearingremarkablythin at this point.

As if in answer, aflashof lightning I'lluminated a structure in a field to our left. We managed to climb over the wall and stumbled over tussocks of grass until wereachedit. To our disappointment it wasn't a house but a disused bam, half tumbledown by the looks of the lumber that lay around it. We got in easily enough and found a dry corner at the back where some hay was still stacked

“At least there isn't a hull in it,” I said, and started to laugh.

He went to put his arm around me, then grunted in pain.

“What is it?”

“My shoulder. Ahhgh. I've definitely done something to it. What I need now is a good shot of whiskey to take away the pain. You wouldn't like to run to the nearest saloonforme, would you?”

“Fat chance,” I said. “My devotion only goes so far. And if I found a saloon, you don't think I'd be coming back, do you?”

I helped him off with his jacket, with many groans and protests, and eased him onto the bales of hay.

“It’s going to be a long, weary night unless somebodyfindsus,” I said. “This is the second time in one day that I've been soaking wet. I'll be lucky if I don't wind up with pneumonia.”

“Here, come and sit beside me,” he said. “I can put my good arm around you.”

I sat. His arm came around me and he pulled me close to him. “I'm glad you're here with me,” he whispered, and kissed me gently on the forehead.

“I don't think we should start that kind of thing,” I said. “Maybe I should move away.”

“I don't want you to move away from me, ever,” he said.

“I don't think Miss Norton will welcome my presence in your happy home,” I said stiffly.

“Damn Arabella Norton! I want you, Molly. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Then he was kissing me and it was no gentle kiss on the fore-head this time.

“What about your shoulder?” I whispered.

“Damn my shoulder.”

I'll have to put the rest of what happened down to my weakened state and the heightened emotion of the day. For next thing I knew I was lying in his arms, his lips crushed against mine, feeling his heart thudding through the wetfabricof my dress. I was giddy with desire as his lips moved down my throat.

“We shouldn't,” I whispered, but I could hardly make the words come out.

“I'll tell her, I promise,” he whispered back as his hand moved down my thigh and pulled up my skirts. I think I helped him get them out of the way. I know I didn't protest enough.

When Irealizedthe next step was inevitable, a brief thought flashed through my mind that twenty-four was awfully old to be a virgin anyway. Then a moment of fear and uncertainly and then it wasn't at all like the old wives had whispered. When I cried out, it was in pleasure, not pain.

“I love you, Molly Murphy,” were the last words I heard before I fell asleep in his arms.

I awoke to a bright shaft of sunlight falling across my face. It took me a moment to realize where I was and when Daniel sighed gently in his sleep, I jumped a mile. He was lying beside me, looking so peaceful that I just stared at him. Then, of course, the full memory of last night returned. A silly grin crossed my face. I was with Daniel Sullivan and everything was going to be just fine.

When he awoke and gazed at me, a big smiled crossed his face too.

“Don't look at me. I must look awful,” I said. “I've no hairbrush and I fell in the mud and…”

“You look beautiful,” he whispered and kissed me tenderly.

When we went outside, we discovered that the trees behind the bam concealed a farmhouse. In no time at all we were riding in the farmer’s wagon back to civilization, where we learned that the horse and buggy had been found, unharmed, and there had been a search going on for us during the night. I was rather glad they hadn't found us.

By midday we arrived back at Adare.

“Why don't I wait out here at the gate while you give Barney the news?” I said, loathe to have tofacethe embarrassment of seeing Barney again.

“You've just found out that his son is still alive,” Daniel said. “Who could remain angry with news like that? You should be the one to tell him.” He took my hand. “And when were you ever afraid of an angry male?”

So I had no option. I was feeling distinctly nervous as Soames opened the front door, but I need not have worried. Bamey seemed as anxious as Belinda and Clara and grateful to know I was still alive. Only patchy news hadreachedthem of Joseph Rimes’s drowning and my apparent disappearance. As we gave Bamey the news about Brendan, a look of wonder spread over his face.

“My son alive?”

We nodded. “We have every reason to hope so.”

“My son alive,” he said again, then he sank his face into his hands and started to weep.

“Poor Theresa. If only she'd been alive to hear this. That rat Rimes—may he rot in hell for this.” I realized then that he cared for his wife more than I had thought. When he looked up, his face was resolute. “I'll find him, Sullivan. I don't care how much time and money it takes. I'll search this country from top to bottom. I'll offer the biggest rewardin the history of mankind, but I'm going to find my son again.”

His gaze focused on me. “You brought this about,” he said. “I said terrible things to you yesterday, but now I'll forever be in your debt. There will be a welcome for you at my home any time.”

“Thank you,” I said, noting that he had conveniently forgotten the circumstances under which Joe Rimes discovered us. If I came to his home again it would be under the escort of a good strong male, preferably Daniel.

“You are certainly some investigator, for a woman,” he added. “I don't know what gave you the idea my son was still alive and how you tracked him down.”

“Albert Morell’s character,” I said. “He loved children. And I always thought there had to be a mastermind behind the kidnapping—although I have to confess that I suspected your secretary.”

“Desmond?” He sounded surprised.

“Why else would such a bright and qualified young man choose to stay out here when New York City is just down the river?”

“Ah,” he said. “I think I can explain that. His father, you see, is in Sing Sing. Guilty of embezzlement. Desmond visits him whenever he can. And with that disgrace hanging over his head, a lot of jobs are barred to him. Since I've done a few crooked things in my own career, his family history doesn't bother me. He’s afinesecretary.”

He broke off as two automobiles came down the driveway, bearing the occupants of Riverside. Someone must have tele-phoned to tell them of our arrival. I glanced nervously to see if Justin was among them. He wasn't. Neither was Captain Cathers. I watched Arabella as she was assisted out of the car, looking delicate and lovely, her elfin face framed beneath a mauve silk parasol.

“Daniel,” she cried, and ran toward him.

I held my breath.

“We were worried sick about you,” she said. “Where were you?”

“We were following a lead about the Flynn baby,” Daniel said “and as you can see, we got trapped by the storm.”

She took in his crumpled suit, liberally caked with mud, then her eyes moved past him to where I was standing in the doorway.

“We?” she said icily.

“Miss Murphy was with me.”

“Miss Murphy? I understood this was Miss Gaffney.”

“Ah yes. Well, she was working for me. Undercover operation.”

“She seems to keep popping up with boringregularity,Daniel.” Arabella was eyeing me with distaste and suspicion. “What exactly was she doing with you?”

I held my breath.

“I told you, Arabella,” Daniel’s voice was harsh. “She’s an investigator. We were on a case. The creek rose and we couldn't get back. Please don't make a scene about nothing.”

I wanted to start breathing again but my breath wouldn't come. About nothing. The words resounded through my head. Nothing. I was nothing. I had let myself be fooled by the circumstances last night. Mrs. Van Gelder began cross-questioning Daniel and Barney. I chose the moment to slip away unnoticed. Once inside the house, I ran up the stairs, threw my belongings into the valise, then, while everyone was still chatting out in front of the house, I let myself out through the French windows in Barney’s study. I lugged my case along the cliff path all the way to the village, where I got a boat across to Peekskill and a train home.