“Sit down. I’ll get you coffee.” Bree waved to Molly.
Hilary slid into the booth opposite Bree. Except for the lost look in her eyes, she seemed her normal self, every blond hair in place and her clothes perfectly accessorized.
Hilary tilted her chin up. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want pity.”
“I’m sorry, Hil. I know you’re hurting. We were all looking forward to the baby.”
Hilary stirred cream into her coffee. “I’m going to repaint the nursery and turn it into a guest room.”
“Don’t do it yet. Talk to the doctor again.”
Hilary shook her head. “I already did. Mason had another sperm test. It was even worse. We’ll never have another baby.” Her eyes looked almost feverish.
Bree’s eyes burned, but she didn’t dare cry, not here. It would upset Hilary even more. “Have you thought about adoption?”
“I don’t want to raise someone else’s baby.”
“Look at how you love Davy. He’s not your own, but you love him as if he were. I think you have enough love in your heart to share.”
“I don’t want to go there,” Hilary burst out. “I can’t stand another disappointment. The mother sometimes changes her mind.”
“What about Lauri’s baby?”
Hilary was shaking her head even as Bree spoke. “Mason mentioned it, but I don’t want to run the risk. Can’t you understand that? You have no idea how devastating this loss was to me and Mason. We wanted our baby, and now we’ll never have him. It was a boy, you know.”
“I hadn’t heard.” Bree’s voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “I know about loss, Hilary.”
“But God pulled a miracle out of his hat for you, didn’t he? You still have Davy.”
“But I lost Rob.”
Hilary dropped her head. “I know. I’m sorry. But it seems so unfair. This is an ocean of pain I’m swimming in. I’m barely treading water.” Tears pooled in her eyes.
“But God is there with you,” Bree said. “He goes even into the deep places of pain with us.”
“I know that, but I don’t feel it.”
Bree fell silent. She knew about the darkness in the night when her prayers didn’t seem to go higher than the border on the wallpaper. “Your mom always says feelings are fleeting. It’s hard, I know. I’m not as wise as Anu, so I can’t advise you much. When I have dark times like that, I try to remember Romans 8:28, where it says all things work together for our good.”
Hilary gave her a withering glance. “This can’t possibly be for my good.”
“I know it doesn’t seem that way.” Bree realized she’d probably said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry. But just think about Lauri’s baby.”
“I told you. It’s a closed subject.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Bree tried one more time. “Don’t bottle all that love up inside. It will grow bitter.”
“Too late. I’m not risking my heart again.”
Denise’s house looked silent and empty, but Bree knew she had to be home. Her van was parked in the driveway. Bree pressed the doorbell and heard it echo from inside. The sound of a baby crying rose above the bell.
When Denise opened the door, Bree’s heart lurched. The woman looked like she hadn’t combed or washed her hair in days. It hung in oily strands around her face. Denise’s eyes were dull and apathetic. She blinked when she saw Bree and tried to muster a smile but only managed a twitch of her lips.
“Hi, Denise.” Bree smiled and hoped it was a better attempt than the one Denise had made.
“Oh, um, Bree.” Denise shifted Abby to her other hip. “Come in.” She backed away from the door and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m a mess. Sorry the house is in such a state. I can’t seem to get the energy to do much to it.”
“It’s fine,” Bree assured her. She stepped over the newspapers piled by the door and tried not to look at the dirty dishes on the hall table. Davy found Adrian right away, and the two friends dashed off to play. Toys as well as dirty diapers and empty containers of baby food littered nearly every inch of floor. She should have come sooner. Poor Denise knew hardly anyone in town.
“Would you like some tea?” Denise looked vaguely out the window as though she couldn’t stand to look Bree in the eye.
“No thanks, I just had some coffee.” Bree reached over to tickle Abby’s tummy. “Where’s Alex?”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh, I left him in the tub!”
Bree froze. “Alone?”
Denise didn’t answer but sprinted toward the hall, and Bree raced after her. It felt like she was moving through molasses. She strained her ears to hear some sound from down the hall.
Denise hurtled through the doorway into the bathroom with Bree on her heels. Alex was lying facedown in the tub.
“Oh, dear God, help us,” Bree said. She pushed past Denise and scooped up the baby. He wasn’t breathing. “Call 911,” she ordered, laying him across her legs on his stomach. She pressed on his tummy and water trickled from his mouth. She glanced up to see Denise still standing there with her hand over her mouth. “Do it. Now!” She practically screamed the words and Denise finally began to move.
Sobbing, Denise turned and Bree heard her steps fade. She turned her attention back to the baby. “Come on, Alex, stay with me,” she whispered. “Please, God, we need some help here.” She laid him on the floor and began to administer mouth-to-mouth. She stopped and put her head to his chest. There was still a heartbeat.
She bent over him again, covering his mouth and nose with her own and breathing in small puffs of air. His small chest rose and fell with her breaths.
“The ambulance is on the way,” Denise said, standing in the doorway.
Bree didn’t stop to look at her. “Pray, Denise. He’s still not breathing.”
Her total focus on the baby, she ignored Denise’s intake of breath and soft sobs. “Come on, Alex,” Bree muttered. “Breathe, baby.”
In and out, in and out. Her arms ached with tension, and she could feel every pore in her face as she put her whole heart into saving the baby. Finally Alex coughed. Coughed and took a breath of his own. He sputtered and water flew into Bree’s face. She rolled him on his tummy, and he vomited, then began to cry weakly.
The distant wah-wah of the ambulance grew closer, and Bree breathed a sigh of relief that help was almost here. “Thank you, God,” she whispered.
Denise fell to her knees and kissed her son’s forehead.
“Ma-ma-ma,” he cried.
“Mommy’s right here, sweet boy,” Denise said, pressing her cheek against his.
The ambulance sounded right outside the door. Bree raced down the hall to throw open the door. “This way.” She directed the paramedics to the bathroom. Denise had to step out of the room too as the men checked out the baby.
“He looks like he’s going to be fine, but we’d better take him to the hospital for observation,” one of the men said. “His mother had better come as well.”
“Let me get Abby,” Denise said.
“I’ll keep her,” Bree said. “You can ride in the ambulance with Alex.”
Denise was crying hard by now, and she nodded gratefully. “Take my van if you come to the hospital. The car seats are already in there.”
The paramedics carried the wailing child toward the ambulance. Denise scurried after them. “The keys are on the kitchen counter,” she called over her shoulder.
“I’ll stay here unless you need me to come,” Bree said. “I can bathe Abby and get her down for a nap.”
Denise stopped and turned. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here, Bree. Thanks.”
Bree saw the gratitude in the young mother’s face and felt a glow of thankfulness. “I’m just glad I was here too. You’d better hurry. They’ll leave you behind.”
Denise nodded and left, slamming the door behind her. The quiet descended, and Bree felt the tension ease out of her shoulders. That had b
een close. Another few seconds and she doubted she could have saved Alex. God had been good to them all today. But he was good every day. Just sometimes she noticed.
She checked on the children. Adrian and Davy were playing with trucks. Bree smiled when she saw Abby asleep on the carpet. Perfect. She could tackle this house while the baby slept. She decided to start with the kitchen. It looked like every dish in the house was dirty. The sink overflowed with pots and pans while plates and cups mounded the counter and table. When had Denise last cleaned? Before Philip died? That was more than a month ago—eons when you had children.
The dishwasher was empty, so she loaded it first then washed what wouldn’t fit by hand. It took her an hour to get the kitchen in order. Then she changed the sheets on the beds and found a basket in the laundry room she used to begin to pick up the toys while a load of laundry was spinning.
Abby awoke, and Bree had Davy and Adrian help her pick up the living room toys. By the time she’d bathed Abby, she felt like she’d worked on an assembly line all day, and it had only been a few hours. But the house looked great, vacuumed, neat, and orderly. She called her search-and-rescue team and told them she’d be delayed. Karen promised to take charge of the search for Samson and call if they found anything.
It was after eleven when she heard a car stop outside. Relief loosened her chest. She peered out the window and saw Mason’s car. Denise got out with Alex in her arms. Bree opened the door and stepped to the front stoop.
“You should have called me. I would have come to get you.”
“I didn’t want you to have to bring the kids out.” Denise looked dreadful. The skin around her eyes was so dark she looked like she had been in a fight. Her lips were colorless, and her complexion seemed yellow and frail.
“I fixed some vegetable soup. It’s still hot,” Bree told her. “If you want to trust my cooking, I’ll fix you a bowl.”
“I don’t think I could eat anything.”
Alex was sleeping in Denise’s arms. “I’ll put him to bed for you. Abby just finished her lunch, and she’s playing in the living room with the boys.” She took Alex, though Denise didn’t seem to want to let him go. And who could blame her? She’d almost lost him. Carrying him through the house, she gently laid him in his crib.
When she’d cleaned the room earlier, she thought about how Phil had probably helped pick out the furnishings here, the train wallpaper border, and the teddy bears that lined the shelf around the room’s perimeter. There were several framed pictures of Phil with the twins, and Bree felt a real bond with Denise and her children.
Bree needed to be a friend to them.
“You cleaned the house,” Denise said when Bree went back into the living room. “You didn’t have to do that. I just can’t seem to focus on anything. Mom came for the funeral, then had to go home. She wanted me to go with her, but I can’t leave until I know who did this to Phil.”
“That’s one reason I came by earlier,” Bree admitted. “I want to find out who killed him too.”
Hope brightened Denise’s eyes. “How can I help?”
Bree glanced at her watch. Karen and the rest of Bree’s team were probably breaking for lunch. “Let’s go back over the days leading up to the murder. Did Phil receive any strange phone calls or letters? Did he act oddly?”
Denise shook her head, her eyes dulling again. “I’ve racked my brain trying to think of something, but there was nothing, only . . .”
“Only what?”
“Just his job offer. That wasn’t out of the ordinary though. He was always getting calls from headhunters wanting him to apply for some research job. His expertise was well-known.”
“What company was this?”
“Jackson Pharmaceutical. They offered him a half-million-dollar bonus if he’d bring the formula for what he’d been working on with him and move to their company. He told them no. He was happy where he was, happy in Rock Harbor. He loved it here. Besides, he didn’t own the formula.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’d never seen Phil so happy. He talked about building a big house overlooking Lake Superior and living here forever.” She swiped the back of her hand over her eyes.
“Where is Jackson based?”
“Milwaukee. Phil hated Milwaukee, which was another strike against them.”
“What was he working on—do you know? Was it that wonderful? Cassie said it was an Alzheimer’s drug.”
“That’s all I know.”
Bree sighed. Nothing added up to a reason for murder.
Kade smiled when he heard the giggling voices from inside the cabin. Sounded like Lauri had her friends over for the night. After last year’s brooding silence, when Lauri withdrew from her normal friends, the sound gladdened his heart.
Lauri sat on the floor with her friends Dinah and Ruthie. They were playing Yahtzee. The cabin was filled with the aroma of cookies and popcorn.
“Smells good. Any cookies left for me?”
“On the counter,” Lauri said.
He went to the kitchen, open to the living room, while the girls finished their game. He poured a glass of milk and grabbed a handful of cookies before sitting at the table. Zorro nosed his leg, and Kade broke off a small piece of cookie and tossed it to the dog, making sure it contained no chocolate.
The girls’ game ended, and Lauri’s two friends got up to leave. “I have to pick up some milk and bread at the store on my way home,” Ruthie said.
“Want to come spend the night tonight?” Dinah asked Lauri.
Lauri hesitated, then shook her head. “I have to work early in the morning, and I’m tired. I’m always tired. I’ll be glad when this baby is born.”
She looked down at her belly, round but still small, and Kade saw the flash of disappointment that crossed her face. It had to be hard to be seventeen and pregnant when all her friends were still carefree. He polished off the last of the cookies and gulped down his milk, then put the glass in the dishwasher.
Lauri said goodbye to her friends, then dropped disconsolately onto the couch. “I’m so sick of being pregnant,” she announced.
“I know. I could tell.” He walked to the couch and sat beside her. “It will be over before you know it. I found a place today I wanted to talk to you about.” He pulled a brochure out of his pocket. “This organization helps place babies for adoption into good Christian homes. I made an appointment for us for Tuesday. I took a day of vacation.”
Lauri gave it only a cursory glance before tossing it to the coffee table in front of her. “You know I don’t want to give my baby to just anyone, Kade! I want it to be someone local.”
“That’s nuts though, Lauri! Do you think the adoptive parents are going to be okay with you just dropping in to check on how they’re raising your baby? Once you sign those papers, you have no rights.”
“I wasn’t going to just drop in,” she said, plucking at her hair in a sulky manner. “But I’d see the kid around town. I’d know if it was okay.”
“You’ve got to trust God in this, kiddo. These would be good Christian folks, people who are desperately longing for a baby. You could be an answer to their prayers.”
“No!” She stood and went to stare out the window.
Her arms crossed over her chest, the rigidity in her stance told Kade not to push too hard. What could he do? She wouldn’t let him help her make the decision. “You have to decide something, Lauri. The baby will be here in four months. That’s not a lot of time to find someone.”
“If I don’t find someone, I’ll just keep it.” She turned then, tears shimmering in her blue eyes.
A wave of love swept over Kade. She was his baby sister, the one he’d always protected. Yet now he couldn’t save her from the consequences of poor choices she’d made. But if she kept the baby, he would be paying the price right along with her. He’d do it willingly, but he was sure she’d never calculated the cost to him.
“I see,” he said. “You haven’t even discussed this with me, Lauri. This is something we shou
ld decide together, since I’d be the one supporting you both.”
“Oh, it’s all about money now, is it?” She flung her blond hair away from her face.
“No, it’s not about money,” he snapped. “It’s about responsibility and maturity. You’re seventeen. Who do you think is going to watch the baby while you go back to school? Who is going to buy it clothes and diapers and formula? Not you. It would be me. And I’m not saying I would be unwilling to do it. But don’t you think you should be discussing this with me and not assuming good old Kade will just step and do what you want?”
Anger flared in her eyes. “I can do it myself,” she shouted. “I don’t have to go back to school. I’ll keep my job at The Coffee Place and take care of the baby myself.”
“With what?” Kade wanted to throttle her. She had no idea of the work or cost of maintaining a household or raising a child. She was scarcely more than a child herself. “You couldn’t afford rent on your wages, let alone diapers and formula. And child care. It’s expensive. I suppose you could just go on welfare and let the state support you while you have baby after baby.”
Too late he realized he’d gone too far. Her face blanched, and tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
“Is that what you think of me?” she whispered.
He wanted to apologize, but the words lodged in his throat like a fishhook.
“You think I’m so stupid I’d do this again? I’ll never get in this kind of trouble again! If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s boys aren’t to be trusted. They want only one thing, and once you give it to them, they disappear.”
Kade winced at the bitterness in her words. He wanted the best for her—college, a husband and family someday. But her cynicism would have to go. “I’m sorry,” he finally managed. “I didn’t mean that. I know you better than that. But you’re not making sense, Lauri. A baby isn’t some doll you can just pick up and put down when you please. Children are a lot of work. I heard you laughing and giggling with your friends. That would be gone if you had a baby to care for. You’d be talking about the best baby food and the new tooth the baby just grew, and they’d still be laughing about the prom and the hottest boy in school. You would soon find you had nothing in common.”