Текст книги "Equal Access"

Автор книги: A. E. Branson

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Thirteen

Force always attracts men of low morality.

–Albert Einstein

When Tuesday morning dawned, Shad found himself skipping several of his usual routines. For one thing he realized he had packed only clothes and no toiletries. That discovery was the least of his worries, except Shad didn’t like how his mouth felt. So he dressed without taking a shower and wet his hands in the sink to run damp fingers through his hair, which luckily being coarse and thick and trimmed fairly short cooperated with his half-hearted efforts. On the way to work Shad swung by the grocery store and bought a toothbrush and toothpaste so he could brush his teeth in the office bathroom in the basement. Shad skipped breakfast.

During the course of the day he kept to himself, which wouldn’t draw the attention of Nolin or Francine because Shad was known to occasionally withdraw whenever he became particularly focused on a case. And since they were familiar with the challenges he was facing in regard to Monica Simms, they could easily assume he was just going through one of those phases. Shad skipped lunch.

Once he got back to the motel room Shad changed into the only non-office clothes he had packed, a plain blue tee shirt and khaki shorts, and did exactly what he did last night after Shad checked in. He skipped the evening meal and lay on the bed in the darkening room while Shad tried to figure out what to do with the mess that had become his life.

Something he hadn’t thought possible was actually happening. His marriage was in jeopardy. Shad knew that Dulsie regarded holy matrimony with the same reverence he did, but the truth was, the deception he had perpetrated upon himself made Shad deceive Dulsie also. He knew her well enough to correctly predict Dulsie’s reaction to the revelation of his affliction. All he could do now was hope she would be able to work through the shock of discovering what he really was.

Prayer was not in his efforts. Last night Shad decided that he was done talking to the One who kept sending plagues. The Almighty seemed to have overestimated how much he was capable of taking on. If Shad had anything left to pray for, it was that he would be struck dead.

He didn’t consider his thoughts to be suicidal, but Shad suspected that if he stepped out onto a street right now and realized a bus was barreling toward him, he wouldn’t try to dodge. And the absence of skid marks would be the only clue to identify Shad’s remains as those of a lawyer and not a skunk.

It would be better for Dulsie if he were dead. That way she would honorably be out of this marriage and free to resume her life without Shad throwing in complications. He had a decent insurance policy that should help keep her supported, and of course Dulsie had both their parents to turn to for any other assistance she might need.

Shad turned his cell phone off for the night because he’d also forgotten to pack the charger.

That Tuesday morning Dulsie took sick leave from work so that she could stay in the quiet of her home and try to decide what the best approach was to handle this crisis.

Years ago, when Mom started warning that Shad posed a threat to her, Dulsie didn’t turn a deaf ear to that insight even though everyone else argued in Shad’s favor. Through quiet contemplation and pensive observation, Dulsie determined her attraction to him was grounded. All of Shad’s good points came to mind: His patience, kindness, humility, generosity, honesty – and humor. It seemed, as Shad said last night, their union was meant to be. What everybody else said must be true, that whatever Shad harbored he would never wield against her. Considering what he’d been through, Shad was amazingly normal.

From what little Dulsie knew about Grandpa Wekenheiser, he had been a more “traditional” abuser who did things like pin Dad down in order to flay his back and behind with a belt that left bloody bruises. What that woman allowed those villains to do to Shad made the term deranged psycho seem like an understatement. Dulsie couldn’t see how Shad could have any chance to avoid harboring something dark and dangerous deep in his psyche. Maybe there was some kind of twisted logic that someone whose innocent youth had been ripped away from him would yearn for the innocent youth of others.

At first glance the threat he posed seemed to be based on the fact Dulsie would be devastated if Shad ever gave in to his grotesque impulse, especially if their own children were involved. But Dulsie doubted that was really what Mom’s warning had been about.

She believed him when Shad denied ever violating a child, and Dulsie honestly believed he would never give in to that baser instinct. Her parents had given her plenty of warning about the male sex drive, which seemed to be otherwise working perfectly well for Shad. Now that she knew his original motivation to court her, probably like that of many men, had been initiated by lust, Dulsie had to credit him on Shad’s conduct during the months before they became engaged. The agony she was wrestling with now involved the fact Shad was cursed with something so vile.

Dulsie wasn’t sure she could ever share a bed with him again. If only Shad had been a pyromaniac instead. If he refrained from starting fires even though his libido was ignited by spectacular conflagrations, she would find that particular deviance easier to accept. But Shad was drawn to children. Every time Dulsie considered that fact she felt a new wash of revulsion sweep through her.

The fact they had a baby on the way further complicated her consideration. Dulsie knew the value of children having fathers who were accessible and involved. And one of the reasons she married Shad was because Dulsie knew he offered many qualities as a dad. One might suggest they could stay together but not sleep together. But living in a screwball marriage harbored its own set of complications.

In her heart Dulsie knew she was going to have to work through her distaste, but that task wasn’t going to be easy. It made no difference that Shad was a handsome man, one that she noticed other women taking second glances of, and yet true to form Shad remained oblivious to their attention. Dulsie decided she needed to immerse herself in his qualities that truly made Shad attractive.

One of the tasks Dulsie tried that day was pulling a half-inch thick pile of small papers from the bottom of her cedar chest. They were notes Shad would leave lying about in their apartment during the first three years of their marriage, when between their studies and part-time jobs didn’t get to see each other that much.

“Your value is more precious than jewels.”

“Your love is more delightful than wine and there is honey under your tongue.”

“If I do not have love, I am nothing.”

They had weathered those first three years together, defying the odds against what happened to around eighty percent of relationships when one partner was in law school. Perhaps Dulsie’s independence combined with Shad’s insularity provided them additional fortitude, but ultimately their positive attitudes bore them through. As much as Shad claimed he had trouble grappling with the more mystical aspects of faith, these notes proved he had a better grasp than some people.

Her ancestor Margaret was keenly aware of the spirituality of marriage. Although the Society of Friends believed in living daily with God, making ceremonial observances such as baptism with water unnecessary, even they observed the sanctity of the wedding. Margaret pointed out that if society continued to take marriage for granted and demean it as common, one day humanity could lose sight of how God instituted marriage as something special. And once that happened, all matters of faith and the freedom to practice it would come under fire, because faith found its home within marriage and the family.

Try as she might, however, Dulsie couldn’t push beyond the unsettling fact Shad was attracted to children.

By nightfall she had had gained no ground, so Dulsie dressed in her satiny, green, spaghetti-strap nightgown and climbed into bed. It took a while for her to fall asleep because she kept asking to find that strength which seemed so determined to elude her.

Dulsie only knew she had finally dozed off some time ago when Sadie began barking. Dulsie opened her eyes and turned toward the clock radio on the nightstand to see it was after one o’clock. What was attracting Sadie’s attention?

Dulsie listened to the tone of the dog’s barking, and it puzzled her. If Sadie was barking at distant coyotes, it was a booming challenge. If a possum or coon or stray dog was slinking toward the turkeys, Sadie would go ballistic. But tonight the dog’s barking was hesitant and choppy. Dulsie had never heard her do that before. Did Sadie see or smell something she didn’t recognize?

Maybe it was Dad’s armadillo.

Dulsie wasn’t going to take the chance of some unidentified varmint getting into the turkeys and wreaking havoc. She slipped out of bed and opened the nightstand drawer to grab a small headlamp and snap the elastic band around her head. Then Dulsie reached under the bed and pulled out a footstool that she carried to the bedroom door and set in front of it.

Dulsie stepped up on the footstool to grab the .223 rifle perched on forked sticks nailed over the door.

If Shad, who was a light sleeper so he would also get up, were here, he would pull on some pants and hold a flashlight for her so Dulsie would have complete freedom to shoot any treacherous predator. The headlamp would help if Dulsie needed light, but it would limit her range of sight. At least the skies were clear tonight and there was half a moon out, and her eyes were already accustomed to the dark. Dulsie hoped to locate whatever was agitating Sadie without having to depend too much on the headlamp.

She pushed the stool aside with her right foot and got a box of ammunition from a drawer in the nearby dresser. Dulsie loaded three cartridges into the rifle. It was a number she could load quickly and Dulsie knew from experience it was all she needed: one to drop her target; one to be sure it was dead; and one as back-up.

Dulsie stepped through the bedroom door and padded quickly through the living room and kitchen. At the back door she slipped on the flip-flop shoes she kept there, and then quietly opened it. When she stepped out on the tiny porch, Dulsie could see Sadie standing to the back and side of the house, between it and the turkey pen. The dog’s white coat dimly glowed in the faint moonlight, and she was staring directly toward their driveway, which was at the front corner opposite Dulsie’s location and therefore beyond her sight. Sadie glanced toward Dulsie, and then barked a couple more times toward the road.

Dulsie started to step off the short stoop to see if she could spot anything without using a light. No sooner did both her feet hit the grassy ground than Sadie erupted into a vicious snarl and charged forward.

A loud shot cracked to Dulsie’s right, and from the corner of her eye she spied a flashpoint beyond the corner of the house and near the road. Dulsie spun toward the disturbance and felt herself squeezing the rifle trigger even as she heard Sadie yelp in a pitiful wail.

Another shot echoed in her ears, but Dulsie couldn’t remember seeing anything because at the same instant a horrific explosion of pain shot from her left shoulder. Dulsie staggered against the stoop. The excruciation seemed to course through every fiber of her body. Her right hand was still grasping the rifle but Dulsie’s left arm was dangling almost uselessly at her side.

In her agony and confusion, one reality shot to the surface of her mind: She needed to protect the baby. Dulsie had to get herself under cover to keep her unborn child safe.

She lunged over the stoop and toward the door. Dulsie had to drop the rifle so she could turn the knob with her right hand because her left arm wasn’t working right. So she kicked the gun into the house with her and slammed the door. Dulsie engaged the deadbolt, grabbed the rifle, and staggered through the kitchen. That was when she realized her gait was probably affected by the fact Dulsie was becoming light headed.

She stumbled through the living room and into the bedroom. Dulsie slammed the door shut by throwing herself against it, and dropping the rifle again, turned the lock on the knob.

She dropped to her knees beside the bed. Was she safe yet? Dulsie looked up, and in the dark bedroom determined that the air conditioner was blocking the window on the wall at the foot of the bed. If she stayed low beside the bed, Dulsie would be blocked from the window on the other side of the room.

She felt soaked and was trembling. Dulsie could feel her head growing even lighter, and the waves of pain were causing her to feel queasy.

Dear God, she couldn’t pass out and choke on her own vomit. She needed help.

Luckily her side of the bed was closer to the door, so Dulsie could easily snatch her cell phone from the nightstand. As she pressed against the mattress and wedged her throbbing shoulder into the space between the bed and the nightstand, Dulsie realized the wetness covering her was too thick to be sweat.

Call the sheriff.

No. There was no telling how long it would take for the nearest deputy to drive out here to the house.

Call her parents.

No. Mom and Dad lived nearly twenty minutes away.

Call Pax. Yes, Uncle Pax and Aunt Maddie lived only ten minutes away. Surely that time was short enough.

Dulsie opened her phone and was grateful to have their number on speed dial and she could actually remember what it was. The room seemed to be swimming around her, and Dulsie’s light headedness and nausea were increasing.

She held the phone to her ear and the electronic ring Dulsie heard only seemed to increase her urgency to hear Uncle Pax’s voice.

Chapter Fourteen

Therefore was the first man, Adam, created alone, to teach us that whoever destroys a single life, the Bible considers it as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a single life, the Bible considers it as if he saved an entire world.

–Mishnah

The clanging jangle of the cradle phone on their bedroom nightstand made Paxton awake with a start. As he grabbed for the receiver without sitting up, Paxton glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it was nearly one-thirty.

A phone call in the middle of the night couldn’t be good. Trepidation already began fluttering in his stomach as Paxton pressed the receiver to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Uncle Pax!” The gasping voice on the other end of the line was panicked and breathless. “Call the sheriff! Get over here! Somebody’s here with a gun! I’ve been shot!”

Paxton sat bolt upright. “Dulsie?”

“Please be careful! He’s got a gun! Get the sheriff over here, but I need you!” Her voice seemed weaker.

“I’m coming right over!” Paxton scrambled out of the bed and grabbed at his jeans and light brown shirt hanging at the foot of it while the cord of the phone pulled taut. “Where are you exactly?”

“Be careful! Please be careful....”

“What is it?” Maddie was wide awake and already swinging one leg to the floor.

“Where are you?” Paxton didn’t like the way Dulsie’s voice had trailed off. “Can you hear me? Dulsie, where are you? Dulsie!” Paxton yelled into the phone as he began pulling on his jeans with his free hand.

“What’s happening?” Maddie asked urgently as she finished getting out of bed.

“Dulsie!”

When silence remained his only response, Paxton slammed the receiver into its cradle.

“Call the sheriff!” He gasped to Maddie. “Dulsie said there’s an intruder at the house with a gun. She’s been shot.”

“My God!” Maddie scrambled across the bed to grab for the phone.

Paxton shrugged on his shirt but didn’t button it as he strode toward the bedroom door. “And tell the sheriff not to shoot me when he gets there!”

“You can’t go by yourself!” Maddie froze in the midst of dialing as she looked at him.

“I have to!” Paxton grabbed the rifle hanging above the door.

“Let me call the sheriff and then I’ll –”

“NO!” Paxton thundered. “I need you to stay here!” He darted out the bedroom, through the hall, and down the stairs without looking back.

As he entered the kitchen and yanked open a cabinet drawer to grab a box of ammunition, Paxton noticed a slight trembling in his hands. He assumed it was caused by the terror that flashed through him from the thought Maddie could get hurt – or worse – if she came along. But Dulsie was already hurt. Paxton had to pull himself together for her.

Where was Shad?

Paxton disregarded a few gun safety rules by going ahead and loading the rifle before pulling on his boots and running out to the pickup.

By disregarding a few traffic laws he made it to Shad’s and Dulsie’s house in a very long five minutes.

He saw only their Buick at the house as Paxton slowed the truck to pull into the driveway. He also saw something white lying off to the other side of the house. Paxton squinted at it as he drove past. The house was completely dark.

Paxton could feel his heart pounding in his chest and hear the blood roaring in his ears as he braked the pickup to a stop. He turned off the engine and took out the keys but left the headlights on, and tightly gripped the rifle as he stepped out of the truck.

So far, so good. Paxton wasn’t shot at yet.

The headlights illuminated the front of the house and their car parked to the side. As Paxton stalked to the porch, fiercely trying to hear above his own heartbeat, he noticed he couldn’t see their pickup.

Dulsie hadn’t mentioned Shad. Where was Shad?

Paxton sidled up the steps of the porch and cautiously slinked to the far end of it to peek around the corner and see the other side of the house.

The white mound was still there. It looked suspiciously like their dog. It looked suspiciously like the dog was dead.

A chill crept through his bones.

Paxton scrambled to the other end of the porch and peeked around that corner as well. This side was lit up by the headlights, and he still saw nobody skulking around.

Paxton strode to their front door, and the storm door readily opened. The entry door was locked.

He fished out the keys he had dropped in his pocket and found the spare that Shad had given him to this door. Paxton unlocked it and stepped into a dark room.

He immediately turned on the light. Paxton wasn’t about to make himself into a lovely backlit target for some lowlife that might be hiding in the corner. There was no intruder lurking about, but what Paxton did see made him gasp in horror.

Smudges and drops of blood stained the floor from the kitchen through the living room, and ended at the closed bedroom door.

Paxton strode toward it, and as his heart managed to beat even harder he called out.

“Dulsie?”

She didn’t respond. Nobody shot him.

Paxton grasped the doorknob. It was locked.

Still grasping the rifle in one hand, Paxton took a couple of steps back into the short hallway. He lunged forward and kicked the door with all his strength just below the knob.

The door jamb splintered, and with a second kick Paxton stumbled into the room.

Dulsie was right in front of him. She was collapsed on the floor, next to the bed, a varmint rifle in front of her and the cell phone near her limp hand. Most of her torso was covered in blood, and blood stained the bed and floor around her.

“Dulsie!”

Paxton never liked hospitals. He became less fond of them during the time he actually had to stay in one to get his tumor removed. They were dreary and somber in spite of trying to decorate themselves in cheerful colors. And at three o’clock in the morning hospitals were even worse.

He, Maddie, Jill and Karl were the only ones in the waiting room. Dulsie was still in surgery, and all they knew at this point, besides the fact Dulsie was still alive, was the surgical team was making sure they removed all the fragments of the bullet.

Nobody felt like sitting. All of them were roaming around the room and keeping a lookout for a nurse who might have some news for them. Paxton knew that Maddie was as particularly agitated as he was.

Where was Shad?

Paxton was wearing a different pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt. His other clothes became bloodied when he held Dulsie in his arms and tried to stop the bleeding. Luckily the ambulance arrived on the heels of the deputy, and Dulsie was quickly transported to the hospital.

Paxton answered what questions he could, then hurried home to inform Maddie and change clothes. Maddie had already called Jill and Karl, and when she discovered Shad was missing, she called his cell phone. But her call went directly to voice mail.

Paxton and Maddie had arrived at the hospital shortly after Jill and Karl.

They both wanted to hear everything Paxton knew, and the more Paxton told his story, the more frustrated he became at knowing so little. When he informed them that Shad was missing, Karl looked stunned and Jill looked, well, angry.

The nurses were remaining scarce, and once the family members ran out of questions that still didn’t have any answers, nobody seemed very inclined to talk for a while.

Karl was the first to finally break the silence. “I’ve just realized I haven’t thanked you yet, Pax.”

Paxton shrugged. “We’ve all got a lot going on.”

“But I really appreciate what you did. If it hadn’t been for you....” Karl seemed to become at a loss for words, which wasn’t usually like him.

“Yes.” Jill spoke almost absent-mindedly while she gazed down the hallway from the entrance of the waiting room. “Thank you.”

Karl’s tone took on a slight growl. “And thank God we live in a country where not only the outlaws get to have guns.”

Jill glanced over at her husband. “We don’t know if Dulsie ever actually fired that rifle.”

“There were only two shots loaded in it.” Karl had also had a little talk with the deputy. “Dulsie always put in three. One way or another the scumbag found out she had a gun, too. You know the reason he left was because he didn’t want a showdown with Deadeye Dulsie.”

“Maybe she didn’t have time to load her usual three.” Jill sounded contemplative. “Maybe the scumbag left because he already knew what a good shot she is and he realized she’d gotten that rifle.”

Jill’s comment caused a chill in Paxton’s blood, and he glanced at Maddie to see if she also determined there was an accusatory insinuation in Jill’s words. The grimace that flashed across her face confirmed Paxton’s concern.

“We don’t know if the gunman was an actual prowler or some drunk out hunting for snipe or just another doper who got lost on his way to the meth lab.” Paxton tried to divert Jill’s ruminating. “Maybe he just got spooked by the dog and Dulsie, and started shooting.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Shad isn’t around.” Once again Jill proved her tenacity for speaking her mind.

Karl shot a warning glance at her.

“You know how he travels sometimes.” Maddie’s voice was unusually stiff. “He could be out late or even for the night.”

“Then why would his cell phone be turned off?” Jill mused.

“Maybe he forgot to charge the battery,” Karl almost growled as he looked at Jill.

Paxton wanted to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. “There’s no use for speculation right now. We all need to stick together for Dulsie when she comes out of surgery and wakes up.”

“All of us but Shad, of course. He isn’t even here.”

“Jill.” Karl’s voice had a serious tone that Paxton hardly ever heard. “Put a cork in it.”

Jill finally diverted her attention from the hallway, and her eyes flashed as she turned toward Karl. “Don’t tell me you’d stand up for that man before you’d stand up for your own daughter!”

“I won’t stand here and let you start throwing accusations around. And that’s exactly what Dulsie would want me to do!”

“Maybe before tonight,” Jill replied authoritatively. “She may have a completely different story when she wakes up.”

“This is ludicrous.” Maddie’s eyes were smoldering but her demeanor remained calm. “You know Shad had nothing to do with this.”

“I know Shad always keeps his history hidden, and now he himself seems to be in hiding.” Jill glared at Maddie.

“Dulsie is the world to him.” Maddie returned the expression. “Even you have to admit to that. He’d sooner cut off his own hand than ever do a thing to hurt her.”

“He’s also emotionally repressed and socially challenged, and under the right – or wrong – conditions, Shad could react to an event in a way that reveals how unbalanced he really is.”

“Hold on there.” Paxton shook his head. “This is Shad you’re talking about. This is the most submissive kid I’ve ever seen. I spent years trying to get him to finally be assertive.”

“Congratulations.” Jill murmured. “You succeeded.”

As soon as those words were out of Jill’s mouth Paxton shot his attention to Maddie because he knew he might have to intervene.

“Don’t you talk to him like that.” Maddie growled. “If you need share your petty spite somewhere, you bring it to me.”

“Petty?” Jill turned toward Maddie with a renewed flash in her eyes. “My daughter is lying in there on an operating table, and you think that’s petty?”

“She’s my daughter too.” Karl stepped between the two women as he faced off with Jill. “At least we know where Dulsie is. Did it ever occur to you that Shad might be gone –” He glanced quickly between Paxton and Maddie, and his voice dropped. “– because something happened to him?”

Jill seemed to scrutinize Karl, and then the agitation faded from her expression. She glanced from Paxton to Maddie with just a hint of chagrin before Jill turned back toward the doorway.

“We’ll see,” she murmured.

The next half hour or so passed in relative quiet, and then a young man in surgical uniform stepped into the waiting room. Paxton wondered how many hours had passed since the doctor had graduated from med school.

Karl and Jill immediately met him at the doorway, and Paxton and Maddie stood closely behind them.

“Are you all here for Dulsie Delaney?” The doctor regarded them through the top part of the lenses in his wire rim glasses.

“Yes.” Jill nodded. “What’s the news?”

“They’re preparing to take her to recovery.” He glanced at the clipboard of papers in his hand. “All the bullet fragments have been removed, and we didn’t find any sign of chest penetration. That’s the good news.” He glanced over the group. “Upon impact, though, it shattered her upper humerus, and the fragments shredded her rotator. We patched it up the best we could, but she may need subsequent surgery. Physical therapy will help her regain some use of her shoulder, but she’ll never have the same range of motion again.”

Paxton released a slow breath of relief. At least Dulsie’s condition wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“Sounds like he used a damn elephant gun,” Karl growled.

The doctor shrugged. “We’ll turn over our findings to the police. I did want to find out, though, if any of you can tell me how long she’s been pregnant?”

There was a split second of silence, and then all of them responded almost simultaneously “She’s pregnant?” The four members glanced around at each other as though trying to determine who among them had been keeping the secret.

“I see.” The doctor made a note on the top paper on his clipboard. “I’ll presume from your reaction that she’s still very early in her term.”

Maddie and Jill asked their questions in unison.

“Will the baby be alright?”

“Could this hurt the baby?”

The doctor seemed to regard the two women a little warily before he responded. “That depends on a lot of factors. She did lose a lot of blood, but the female body is already hardwired to divert blood to the uterus during physical trauma. The fact it’s early in her term does give the pregnancy some advantage since it doesn’t need as many resources to sustain itself. But it’s too early for me to say for sure one way or the other.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Even after they wheel Dulsie into recovery, she might not awaken immediately when the anesthesia wears off. You folks should have time to go get a bite to eat or catch a little sleep or anything like that.”

“I want to go there as soon as she gets to recovery,” Jill informed him.

“Then we’ll make that arrangement.” The doctor nodded. “You folks take care.”

Somewhat numbly, they thanked him as the doctor left, and then the four began to look at each other again.

“Boy,” Karl muttered. “Dulsie could’ve come up with a less dramatic way of letting us know.”

“My poor baby.” Jill seemed lost in her thoughts.

Paxton looked at Maddie and she returned his gaze. He was glad this was one of those moments when neither of them needed to speak because their thoughts were as one. Maddie stepped toward Paxton to lean against his side and they wrapped their arms around each other. As they stood in silent embrace Paxton rested one cheek against Maddie’s head, and he contemplated what was supposed to be a joyous occurrence: Shad had given them another grandchild.

But where was Shad?