IT WAS A FEW minutes after one when Jamie discovered that Lynette’s baby was missing. Billy had been trying to wake up. Sometimes he would go back to sleep if she walked around the apartment jiggling him in her arms. That’s what she had been doing when she realized Sally Ann was no longer in the baby bed.
Panic filled Jamie’s chest and clouded her mind. They knew where she was. They thought they had taken her baby.
Even as she tried to deal with the horror of the missing baby, her mind was trying to push ahead.
How long would it take before they realized the baby they had was a girl?
And why hadn’t the person who took Sally Ann killed Jamie first?
Jamie imagined a shadowy figure putting a gun with a silencer to her temple while she slept and pulling the trigger. Or putting a pillow over her face and suffocating her.
But there was something wrong with both scenarios. And with Jamie sleeping through Sally Ann’s kidnapping. Ralph would have alerted her the instant an intruder set foot in the apartment.
Ralph would have barked.
Ralph!
She raced to the bedroom. Her scruffy little dog was still curled up on the foot of the bed. Jamie knew before she touched him that he was dead. But still her mind cried out in protest. Not her Ralph. Not her sweet little dog who had been at her side for all these many months. Who had saved her sanity and been her devoted little buddy. Who had loved her unconditionally and trusted her completely.
She wanted to scream. To cry out in her grief. And rage. But she didn’t have time to rage or grieve. Not even for Ralph.
She had to get out of here.
She put Billy on the bed, grabbed her backpack, and raced around frantically stuffing things inside. Some clothes for Billy. A couple of baby blankets. Diapers. The baby sling. The Oklahoma map. Then she realized she still had on her nightshirt. She threw on some clothes and stuffed an extra shirt and underwear in the backpack.
She reached under the mattress and pulled out the manila envelope and slid it under the pad in the infant carrier. Then she put her baby in the carrier and bent to kiss her little dead dog good-bye, her chest heaving with the pain of her loss. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “Good-bye, my darling Ralph. I’ll never forget you.”
Blind with tears, she slung the backpack over her shoulder and picked up the infant carrier. And glanced at the clock on the bureau. Less than ten minutes had passed since she realized Sally Ann was gone.
Billy was chewing on his fists and only seconds away from crying. On the way to the door she picked up Sally Ann’s pacifier from the baby bed. She didn’t take the time to wash it or even wipe it on her sleeve. Billy had never used a pacifier, but he latched on instantly.
Ever so carefully, Jamie unlocked the door and, leaving the chain lock engaged, peeked out into the hall. Then she closed the door, disengaged the chain lock, and opened it again. She took one last look over her shoulder and saw a pair of feet appear in the open window.
The kidnapper was coming back to kill her.
She slipped into the hall and gently closed the door behind her. Then raced down the hall. Down three flights of stairs.
Once she had reached the first floor, she unlocked the front door and opened it a few inches, then turned around and tiptoed toward the back of the house to the basement door. In the inky darkness she crept down the basement stairs. The laundry room with two high cellar windows was less dark. She paused to let her eyes adjust. Pushing the wooden table would make too much noise. It took all her strength to lift it and place it under one of the windows. She put the infant carrier and backpack on the table, climbed on top of it, unlatched the window, and carefully lowered it. It was a tight squeeze to get her long body through the opening. Once through she reached back inside for the infant carrier and the backpack. Then she reached down and pulled the window closed.
She was hidden by the bushes and crouched there unmoving for a time. She heard the front door being pushed open. Footsteps on the porch. Billy was trying to push the pacifier from his mouth, but she held it there with one hand and frantically unbuttoned her shirt with the other and scooped her baby from the carrier.
She was sure the kidnapper was not alone. He had already given Sally Ann to an accomplice and returned to kill Jamie. Probably there were others besides those two. They would fan out to look for her.
She nursed Billy until she was sure that he wouldn’t cry then put him back in the carrier and crept across the deep shadows between Ruby’s apartment house and the one next door, quickly taking cover behind its overgrown shrubs. Pressed against the wall, she made her way toward the front of the building and climbed over the railing onto the covered porch. Keeping to the shadows, she tiptoed across the porch and climbed down into the shrubbery on the other side of the building, which was on a corner. The bus-stop corner. She waited for a few minutes, watching for any sort of movement. Then she sat in the moist dirt behind a huge, overgrown lilac bush to wait for morning and to cry for her little dead dog. She knew what had happened. Someone had been watching her and knew that she took Ralph out front last thing every night and had left a piece of poisoned meat by the front steps.
After they had killed her, they would have disposed of her and Ralph’s bodies and made it look as though she had fled in the night with her baby and dog. Ruby would have remembered her bruised forehead and concluded that Jamie was once again running away from an abusive boyfriend.
Except the kidnapper had taken the wrong baby. Soon someone was going to realize that. Jamie closed her eyes and prayed. Please don’t let them kill Lynette’s baby. Please.
She imagined Lynette coming in the morning and getting Ruby to open the door when Jamie did not respond to her knock. The police would be called. Would the police think that the woman who called herself Janet Wisdom had fled with both babies?
By now the kidnapper and his accomplices would be driving up and down the streets looking for her. Maybe they had called in others to help with the search.
She tried to make herself as comfortable as possible, leaning against the side of the house. She could feel the moisture from the damp earth penetrating the seat of her jeans and scooped a layer of dead leaves between herself and the ground.
And so she stayed. For hours. Grieving for her dog. Holding her baby. Wondering what was going to happen to them.
“We have the baby,” Felipe said when he had Hartmann on the line. He was in the back of a panel truck parked inside a garage at the end of the alley. “Carl and Luis have gone back to deal with the girl.”
“Is the baby all right?”
“Seems to be. It is with the woman in the other vehicle.”
“Good. You figured out how to get the girl’s body out of the apartment?”
“Toss it out the window. The dog, too. Then we will pick them up and be on our way. The plane is waiting at a rural airstrip south of here. After we leave the baby in Virginia, we will fly over the ocean and dump the bodies.”
“Call me before you take off.”
Next Felipe called the woman. “The baby okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, but I thought you said it was a boy.”
Felipe’s blood ran cold. “What are you saying?”
“The kid crapped and I just changed its diaper. This baby is a girl.”
Felipe paused for only a moment. He’d always known a time like this would come-a time when he himself would become the focus of Gus Hartmann’s rage. He got out of the truck, opened the garage door, then got back in and drove away. The waiting plane would take him to an island off the coast of Honduras. From there he would take a boat to the place that only he knew about. It was a relief, really. He had enough money in Swiss accounts to last three lifetimes.
At midnight, Amanda-wearing a flowing blue bathrobe-had joined Gus in his office. She would pace for a time then lie on the sofa, all the time offering a running monologue about how they needed to get this thing over with, how wonderful it would feel to finally have the baby in her arms, how no baby could ever replace Sonny but this child was the next best thing. How it didn’t feel right when she was holding that other baby.
Finally she ran out of steam and dozed off. Gus didn’t wake her after he’d talked to Felipe. He would wait until the plane was ready to take off. Until he was absolutely sure nothing had gone wrong.
He sat at his desk staring at the minutes ticking by on the clock. The plane would take off in about an hour.
After two hours had gone by, he finally had to admit that something was amiss, but he waited another thirty minutes to shake Amanda’s shoulder. “Something’s gone wrong,” he said.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“My man would have called by now. I’ve tried to reach him, but his phone is either turned off or he ditched it.”
“Why would he do that?” she asked.
“Because he screwed up and is running for his life.”
“What about the men he hired to help him?”
“The same,” Gus said, his jaw clenching.
“But you’ll still be able to get the baby, won’t you?” Amanda asked, panic in her voice.
“Yes, of course,” Gus said soothingly. “But it may take a few days. You might as well go on upstairs. Take something to help you sleep.”
“I won’t have my baby tonight?” she asked, her voice getting shrill.
“No, not tonight.”
Gus went to the sofa and took her in his arms. He spoke to her in his most soothing voice, telling her that everything was going to be all right, that it was just going to take a little bit longer than he had at first thought. He smoothed her hair and told her that he loved her and that they were going to be so happy with Sonny’s little boy to raise and to love. But right now, he needed for her to go to bed and let him think. And make a few phone calls.
It was noon before he had pieced together the story. Jamie Long had been caring for her neighbor’s kid. Felipe’s man had taken the wrong kid, and Jamie Long had gotten the hell out of there. The woman working with Felipe had left the baby girl in a hospital waiting room.
“What rotten luck,” Gus said with a slam of his fist on the desk. “Damned rotten luck.”
Then he calmed himself. A young woman with a small baby and no luggage and no one to turn to for help shouldn’t be too hard to track down.
When Jamie saw the morning’s first bus approaching, she crawled stiff and dirty and disheveled from the bushes. She was greeted by startled stares as she walked toward the cluster of waiting people, the infant carrier bumping against her leg. She got on the bus last, gave a crumpled bill to the driver, and sat in the seat immediately behind him.
When the bus reached Classen Boulevard, she got off and walked to the last of the three used-car lots she had visited. The same salesman was already there unlocking the door to the office. “You come back for the car?” he asked.
“If you’ll give me a good deal,” she said. “Otherwise, I’ll have to take my business elsewhere.”
The man took in her disheveled appearance with a knowing look and shook his head. “The price stands as is.”
Jamie shook her head. “If I pay what you ask, I won’t have enough money to buy gas.”
He dropped the price one hundred dollars.
Jamie could almost feel her pursuers getting closer by the minute. She nodded.
When he asked what name she wanted on the bill of sale, she told him Mary Johnson.
With the infant carrier anchored in the back with a seat belt, she drove south for fifteen or twenty blocks and stopped by a drive-up pay phone at a service station. She might as well call the Brammers’ number in Houston one last time. By the time her call was traced and someone arrived at this location, she would be miles away.
A man’s voice answered the phone. A young man. Jamie clutched the receiver saying nothing. Was it one of Gus Hartmann’s men just waiting for her to call? Waiting to threaten her? To lie to her and tell her that all they wanted was the baby and nothing would happen to her if she would give him up?
But then the voice said, “Jamie, is that you?”
She leaned forward and rested her head against the steering wheel. It had been a long time-another lifetime ago-since she had heard that voice. “Joe?” she whispered.
“Oh, my God, Jamie, what in the world is going on with you?”
“I can’t explain. I just called to say I wouldn’t be calling anymore. They know where I am now. I have to find someplace to hide. They even killed my dog,” she said, her voice breaking. “And they are listening to us now.”
“Jamie, listen to me very carefully,” Joe said. “Remember that Sunday afternoon when we planned to take your grandmother to a very special place?”
She tried to think. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was someplace historical that Gladys had never been to before.”
Jamie rubbed her forehead. “I can’t think, Joe. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated. “And they are tracing this call as we speak. They’ll be here any minute now.”
Joe kept talking, his voice calm and low. “It started to rain, and we decided not to go. Gladys put a pot roast in the oven, and we played dominoes while it was cooking. Gladys won.”
Jamie racked her brain. She was so afraid. And tired. Hungry. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t. Granny was always cooking pot roasts. Always beating them at dominoes.
But then she remembered. It had been a terrible rainstorm with ferocious lightning and thunder.
“The lights went out,” she whispered.
“Yes. Can you go to that place-the place that we never went to?”
“I don’t remember the name,” she said, “but I remember what it was near.”
“Get yourself there as soon as you can. I’ll be there at noon tomorrow and again at dusk. And the next day, too. I’ll be there every day until you come.”
“I don’t know how long it will take me. My situation is…difficult.”
“So I gathered. You just get there, and I’ll be waiting.”
“But you’ll be followed.”
“Just come, Jamie.”
“Yes. I’ll come. I’m going to hang up now. Good-bye.”
She quickly hung up the receiver, disconnecting herself not only from Joe but also from the ominous someone she knew had been listening to their conversation.
She had actually spoken to Joe. And had a plan.
She pulled out into the traffic and drove west instead of south in case she was being followed. Could they have put a tracking device on this car? She spent several minutes convincing herself that was unlikely. Okay, think, she told herself.
Her pursuers would realize the location she and Joe had agreed upon would have to be within a day’s drive of Houston. They would be alerting the highway patrol and local law-enforcement agencies. She forced herself to think of the maze of highways and roads in Texas. Of the hugeness of Texas. And allowed herself to believe that it just might be possible. But she had to be clever. And she was too exhausted for clever. Too exhausted and hungry.
They were expecting her to head south into Texas, which eventually she would have to do. But not right away.
She would take her time. Let the searchers get in front of her.
She drove north, avoiding the main thoroughfares. She wound her way through an area where there were stately old mansions as large as hotels, and even farther north, past gated communities with brand-new mansions. She drove carefully, ever mindful of speed limits and stop signs.
Not wanting to waste gas, rather than driving around aimlessly she made frequent stops, pulling into a parking space and just sitting there for a time. She stopped at a service station to use the restroom and buy a sandwich and a bottle of orange juice. Twice she stopped to feed Billy and give him some time out of the infant carrier. Finally, keeping to secondary roads, she began winding her way south, continually checking her rearview mirror.
When darkness finally came, she filled the almost empty gas tank, bought a couple of candy bars, filled the empty orange juice bottle with water, then headed south on a county road several miles east of Interstate 35. Soon it was late enough that she had the rural roads pretty much to herself. When the moon rose, she turned off her headlights for long stretches, not exactly sure why, except that it made her feel invisible. She knew from her drive across the western half of the state that its county roads were laid out in one-mile squares, and she would go south for a time, then east, then south again, until she had to maintain an eastern course around sprawling Lake Texoma. She bypassed the town of Durant, then began winding her way south again until finally she turned south onto Highway 78.
Given her meandering path, it was almost dawn before she crossed the Red River into Texas. She knew that she had to sleep for a while. When she stopped for gas in Ridings, she studied the Texas map on the wall, then asked the elderly attendant if she could pull behind the building to nurse her baby and rest for a time. When he didn’t respond, she asked him again in a louder voice, and he nodded.
The clock in the car didn’t work, and she had left her watch in the apartment, but when she woke, she estimated by the sun that it was midmorning. Arriving at her destination by noon was out of the question. But hopefully she would be there by dusk.
Still keeping to country roads, she headed south once again, ever watchful even though she hadn’t a clue as to the form her enemy would take. She wondered if she would ever feel safe again. The word itself sounded elusive, like something at the end of a rainbow, something she might wish for but never achieve.
Now that she was in the state of Texas, however, she did allow herself to wonder what it would be like to see Joe again. She hoped that she could at least clean up a bit before she made her way to their meeting place.
Then what?
She knew that he would help her. That was the kind of person he was. And perhaps it was best not to go beyond that. If she didn’t allow herself to expect more, she would not be disappointed.
That was hard to do, though.
Texas was not laid out in precise squares like Oklahoma, and she had to be careful not to lose her way as she endeavored to keep to rural roads. Early afternoon, she crossed over Interstate 30, which she knew connected Dallas to southern Arkansas. A couple of hours later she crossed Interstate 20, which connected Dallas to Shreveport.
The motor began to overheat south of the town of Athens.
She stopped at a service station and sprayed water on the radiator then drove very slowly into Corsicana. She parked the car near the bus station and gathered up her baby and her few possessions.
The bus didn’t leave until the morning. After she bought a ticket to Brenham, she had just enough money to buy a banana and two candy bars. She filled the bottle with water in the restroom.
The bus station closed at five.
She walked around for a time then returned to the car. She sang to Billy and played with him for as long as he was willing then nursed him to sleep. Whenever a car drove by, she ducked out of sight. She waited until dark to eat the first of the candy bars. For the second time she had not been at the meeting place. And she wasn’t going to be there tomorrow, either. But Joe had promised to keep returning until she arrived. She clung to that promise.
The night was endless. Every muscle in her body ached with fatigue and discomfort.
She ate the banana for breakfast.
The bus arrived in Brenham just before noon. She described the place she wanted to find to the ticket agent. “It’s a very old cemetery where some of the area’s first settlers are buried.”
“That would be the Independence cemetery,” the woman told her.
“How do I get there?” Jamie asked.
“Just head up the street here to Chapel Hill and take a left. Chapel Hill runs into 105 which will take you to 50. There’s no town to speak of anymore. Just look for Old Baylor Park. The cemetery is near there.”
“How far?”
“’Bout ten or twelve miles, I’d say, but there isn’t a bus.”
Jamie had planned to walk anyway. She didn’t have the money for a ticket if there were a bus.
A block from the bus station, she left the cumbersome infant carrier in a Dumpster and put Billy in the sling.
She reminded herself that she used to think nothing of running ten or twelve miles. All she had to do now was walk. But it was already warm. And she was exhausted. And she had a baby slung across her middle.
Climbing even the gentlest of hills left her breathless and sweating. And Billy was restless. She stopped several times, seeking out a shady, private spot where she nursed him, with no sense at all of how long it had been since the last feeding.
She ate the second candy bar a bite at a time and rationed her water. There were no service stations, no buildings at all except for an occasional farmhouse at the end of a winding lane. The sole of her left shoe came loose and made walking difficult. She tore a strip from the baby blanket she was using to shade Billy from the sun and tied the shoe back together.
I can do this, she told herself repeatedly, the words becoming a mantra. Several times a vehicle would slow as the driver considered asking her if she wanted a ride, but she would square her shoulders, stare straight ahead, and turn her dragging step into a marching gait.
The road signs told her that she was nearing Independence. She stopped at a large gardening establishment to ask for directions to the cemetery. A woman watering rose bushes pointed the way and filled her water bottle. “You all right, honey?” she asked.
“Fine,” Jamie said with all the brightness she could muster. “It was just farther than I thought.” Then she asked the woman what time it was and was on her way.
The water helped.
She passed by four stately stone columns in a grove of trees with a sign that said OLD BAYLOR PARK. A half mile or so past that sign was another for McCrocklin Road. A mile or so beyond that McCrocklin ran into Coles Road, just like the woman watering the roses had said.
A woman in an SUV pulled up beside Jamie and asked if she was lost.
“No, ma’am. I’m just out walking.”
The woman had beautiful snow-white hair. She stared at Jamie for a moment. “You look awfully hot and tired to me,” she said. “I live just past the cemetery. You and the baby are welcome to rest there for a time. I think I’ll make a pitcher of fresh lemonade as soon as I get home.”
Jamie thanked her again and kept on walking.
Fresh lemonade. She felt light-headed just thinking about it.
The cemetery was on the right side of Coles Road, set among a grove of ancient live oak trees. Just beyond the entrance to the cemetery Jamie sank to the ground by the moss-covered tomb of Moses Crawford, who died in 1857. She leaned against the backside so she wouldn’t be visible from the road and nursed her baby. Then she lay down and, cradling Billy in her arms, curled her body around his and closed her eyes.