The China Doll (23 page)

"What is it?"

"Jessie!" She hung up and flew out of the
office without taking her coat. Emily and Carlos didn’t even have a
chance to ask her where she was going.

Miranda had jumped into a cab by the time
Michael called back. "What are you doing?"

"Jessie has an appointment in fifteen
minutes."

"Miranda! Just wait for me, please."

"Michael, call Detective Teague."

"You mean the idiot Richard punched a few
nights ago?"

"Yes, that one!" Miranda said angrily. "Just
do it!" She hung up and knocked on the glass. "Forty bucks extra if
you get there in the next five minutes!"

~~~

Richard was still at his mother’s when his
phone rang. "Michael, this is not a good time."

"Richard, you have to call that
Detective."

"Call him what?"

"Everyone’s such a God damned comedian this
morning!" Michael bellowed. "Teague! Call him right after you give
me Doctor Wolfe’s address."

"First of all, why do I need to call that
incompetent bastard, and second of all, is it that hard to find a
qualified therapist in Boston?"

"Richard, he’s dangerous. Jessie’s there now,
and Miranda is on her way. Give me that address now."

"Mom, call Detective Teague, right now." He
trusted Michael too, if only because of his concern for Miranda.
"Michael, you’re going to tell me what’s going on, but you’re not
going anywhere near Doctor Wolfe’s office. If he’s dangerous, we
don’t need to make it worse."

"I’ll just look it up myself," Michael said
and hung up.

~~~

Five minutes later, Michael was in a cab. He
looked at his watch. Five minutes to eleven. "Fifty bucks if you
get me there in less than five minutes!"

~~~

"I certainly didn’t expect to hear from you
again," Robert said once Richard got on the phone.

"Do you want to do your job, or not?" Richard
barked.

"Has Jessie gotten any more notes?"

"No, but I have reason to believe that her
therapist might be involved."

"Andreas Wolfe? What happened?"

"How do you—? Never mind. I don’t know,"
Richard said impatiently. "But she’s there now."

"And you expect me to do what? Based on
what?"

"Detective, I expect to see you at that
office within twenty minutes. And if I don’t, I will call every
supervisor you have up to the Mayor, regardless of whatever dirt
you’ve found on any of us. And if anything happens to my family or
friends that will be the least of your concerns." He hung up and
handed the phone to his mother. "I have to go."

"Richard, what is going on?"

"Mom, I can’t handle this unusual display of
concern right now, alright?"

"Mother’s prerogative and it’s not unusual.
And you’re not going anywhere. Let the police handle this."

"We’re talking about Jessie. And Miranda. Did
I mention Michael’s on his way there? And did you meet Detective
Teague?"

"You have a point," she said slowly. "But I
don’t want you to leave like this."

Richard hugged his mother for the first time
since he was eleven. "Mom, I promise. This conversation isn’t
over." Then he let go and ran out the door.

"Be careful," she whispered after he had
gone.

The snow was just beginning to fall during a
1980 winter night when Alex showed up at Lucy’s door. "Alex?" she
said when she opened the door. She wasn’t trying to hide how
annoyed she was. And that made his job so much easier.

"Hello, Lucy. May I come in?"

"I’m afraid Tom isn’t here," she said
pointedly.

"I realize that," Alex said. "I came to see
you." He looked her up and down. "It’s very important."

Lucy sighed. "Please come in," she said. He
walked through and she closed the door. "Unfortunately, I don’t
have much time. I have an appointment soon," she said.

"This doesn’t need to take long," he said as
he sat down.

"Very well," she said. She sat down across
from him. "What can I do for you?"

She didn’t offer him a drink. "I’ll come
straight to the point. I came here to talk to you about Jim
Hendrickson."

Her face didn’t change. "I didn’t realize the
two of you were close."

"Not yet, but I hope to see that change.
Stephen and Annabelle just announced their engagement."

"Yes, I saw the announcement. Gerald
Hendrickson just sent me an invitation to their engagement
party."

"I hope to see you there."

"I would like to go, but I don’t want to give
anyone the wrong impression. It might not be a good idea."

"And I am positive it is."

Lucy smiled. "I’m sorry, but I underestimated
the time. I really need to be going."

"Who are you going to meet, Lucy?"

"Just some friends."

"Would one of those friends be Joanna
Hazlett?"

Lucy smiled and tilted her head. Alex knew he
was beginning to get her attention. "Yes, in fact. How good of you
to remember that we’re friends."

"She’s quite memorable, isn’t she?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Lucy, how much dancing do you want to do
tonight?"

"None with you." Lucy stood up. She began
walking to the door. Alex started smiling. He was enjoying
this.

"Right. Because I’m not your type. But Joanna
is?"

Lucy stopped just as her hand touched the
doorknob. "Excuse me?"

"I know about you and Joanna Hazlett."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, you don’t know what I could possibly
mean about you and your close friend? Your friend who spends so
much time in this cozy little apartment of yours."

Lucy fixed her steely grey eyes on him.
"She’s taking graduate classes now. Sometimes it’s convenient for
her to stop here for dinner before she goes home."

"And sometimes it gets cold, right?" Alex
stood up. "So it’s better if she just spends the night."

Lucy nodded. "Yes, sometimes she spends the
night."

"Wonderful that she has such a
good...friend." He stood next to her. Lucy stayed transfixed as if
magnetized to her spot. "Wouldn’t it be a shame if someone thought
something else?"

She blinked, then she stood up taller. "I
guess I can’t control what people think, or what they say. Talk is
just that, and even less if no one listens."

"And who might someone like me tell; is that
what you’re thinking? Stephen doesn’t really gossip, and Annabelle
wouldn’t care what I said if she bothered to speak to me. But you
don’t think Gerald might be a little concerned?"

"Because your friend is marrying his
daughter? Because you work for him? I think he’d need a better
reason to listen to your idle gossip."

"He has one."

"And what might that be?"

"None of your concern right now."

"Then by all means, go right ahead. Tell
Gerald whatever you want."

He already knew where her pressure point was.
"Because you’re so impervious to anything someone like me might say
or anything he might do?" She only smiled. "Bartolome. Leighton. We
should all be so lucky." He sighed. "But we’re not, are we? Some of
us are Sheldons. Some of us are just Hazletts."

Lucy snapped to attention. "What?"

"Don’t worry. What could a Sheldon really do
to a Hazlett, or anyone else, really? But a Hendrickson...hmm. You
never know. Some things might be beneath them. Maybe."

Lucy wasn’t breathing. "Why would you—"

"Graduate school, right? She wants to teach,
doesn’t she?" Lucy nodded. "She’d be a great professor, wouldn’t
she? Wouldn’t it be a shame to stop her before she got the
chance?"

Lucy turned her head so he couldn’t see her
eyes. "Yes, that would be so unfair."

"And tragic," Alex offered. "Because it would
be so easy to avoid."

"How..." she said, looking at her hands,
"…could it be avoided?"

"You should...get out more," Alex said
slowly. "For instance, I think you should go to Stephen and
Annabelle’s party."

She licked her lips. "That’s easy
enough."

He nodded his head. "Good. Very good. And you
know what else would be easy? Going with Jim."

Lucy nodded. He could tell she understood.
"That could be arranged."

"Excellent. And while you’re there, I think
you need to take another look at Jim. I don’t think you’ve fully
evaluated Jim for his potential as a husband. Or as a father."

Lucy turned and looked at Alex as if he’d hit
her. "Father?" She was blinking very fast. "I think that might be a
little bit much."

"But I think that’s just perfect," Alex said
softly, catching her eyes again. "And the sooner the better. I’d
say that would be the only guarantee we would have against ugly
rumors."

She waited a moment. "Anything else?"

"Yes." He was taller than she was, and he was
looking down on her. He’d never appreciated that before. "I’d cross
my fingers for a boy."

Richard ran to his car. Traffic was packed
going down Beacon Street. What else was new at this time of day? He
hit the steering wheel, frustrated, then turned to get onto
Commonwealth Avenue. A little better but he was in the wrong lane
to go straight back onto Beacon. He didn’t care. Another car
scraped him as he zoomed past to get into the proper lane. The car
could be replaced.

As he sped down Beacon Street, he tried to
reassure himself by thinking of all of the other times Michael had
screwed up. It didn’t help. Michael wouldn’t be wrong, if only for
Miranda’s sake, he knew he could trust Michael on this.

Don’t panic
, he thought to himself.
Then he remembered the last time he had to tell himself that.

He was thirteen, running down the street. He
hated running, but he had bolted out the door after his mother
called. He hadn’t even hung up the phone. He had heard Jessie
screaming, the way she had screamed last year, when Josie had
brought them over for him to care for little Jessie. His mother was
in Josie’s house but he hadn’t heard Josie.

But he’s dead
, Richard thought as he
sprinted across the street, just barely missing getting hit by a
car. They were supposed to be safe...

He focused on the street signs so he wouldn’t
have to finish that thought.

He didn’t stop running until he got to
Josie’s brownstone. The door was open. That wasn’t a good sign.
"Mom? Mom?" Richard called as he ran in. Inside was a man in a suit
and coat. Richard looked at him, but neither said a word.

Lucy ran down the stairs. She looked relieved
to see him but he froze. "Mom, what’s going on?"

"Richard, don’t come upstairs, whatever you
do," Lucy said. "I need you to talk to Jessie."

"Mommy! Mommy!" Richard heard Jessie
screaming from another room. Lucy grabbed Richard’s hand and took
him to her.

"Mommy!" Jessie wailed. She was tall for her
age, and she didn’t have as much baby fat on her as most four year
olds. But she cried right now as if she were still an infant.
"Mommy! Please let me see my mommy."

Richard looked his mother in the eye and she
shook her head. His cheeks went cold as the blood drained from his
face.
Why?
He’d done what she’d asked.
Why hadn’t that
been enough?

He took a deep breath and put on his best
smile for the little girl. "Jessie, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here
now." He went to pick her up. She was still light to him, and so
small.

She clung to his neck and looked up at him
hopefully with tear-filled eyes. "Where’s Mommy?"

"Sweetie, I think Mommy had to go away," he
said gently.

Jessie shook her head hysterically. "No she
didn’t! No!" She pounded on Richard’s shoulders. "She sang me a
song and she said she was coming right back if I went to sleep like
a good girl! And I did, but she didn’t come back! Mommy, Mommy,
Mommy!"

Jessie cried for half an hour on Richard’s
shoulder before she exhausted herself and fell asleep. Richard put
her on the couch, covered her up and left the room to look for his
mother. He saw the same man in the coat and suit but now there was
another man standing next to him. "Joe, they’re running a rape
kit," he said solemnly.

The man in the suit shook his head with
disgust. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Tied up, shirt ripped, underwear
pulled down. And there’s fluid all over the place." The other man
whispered something, and the first shook his head emphatically.

At that point they noticed Richard. "Kid,
what are you doing?"

"I’m looking for my mother," he said in a
monotone.

The man in the suit sneered. "She’s upstairs,
answering some questions. Just wait—" but before he could continue,
the paramedics came down the stairs, carrying a gurney. There was a
body on it underneath a sheet. Richard could see the tip of Josie’s
forehead and her long reddish hair.

His mother was right behind the paramedics.
Richard looked at her. "Who did this, Mom?"

She looked at the man in the suit. He looked
away. "I don’t know," she said. "It doesn’t matter."

"Are you crazy?" Such displays of emotion
were rare for Richard, even then. "Don’t you even care—?"

"Of course I care," Lucy snapped. "But
Jessie’s my main concern now. How is she?"

"She’s sleeping. But she keeps saying her
mommy is coming back. Mom, what are we going to do?"

"I don’t know," she said softly. "We’ll just
have to do our best." At that moment, Richard felt his whole world
sink, even worse than when his father had died. But he wasn’t
allowed to sink. He had to be okay, it wasn’t an option to be
anything but.

He looked at his mother, who went to talk to
the man in the suit. That man seemed nervous now. He heard the door
close behind him—Josie was gone. She had come to him for help last
year and it hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t big enough to help her at
the time. But he was big enough to help Jessie now.