Laurel when her brain—that elusive, quicksilver, horrifyingly original organ—was focused on an objective.
The receiver buzzed like an angry wasp.
And dully, but with increasing volume, someone knocked on the locked front door of Confidential Commissions.
Annie stared helplessly at the blue eyes brimming with tears.
“Please, please don’t tell anyone. If it gets into the papers, if Henry finds me—oh God, he’ll take Kevin away.”
Annie sat beside the crying woman on the tiny room’s single sofa. The cushions were worn and lumpy, but neatly mended. A wicker chair with chipped white paint was the only other furniture. The room would have been depressingly dismal except for the scattering of brightly colored blocks, toy cars, and empty margarine containers, strung together with a bright red thread. Crayon drawings, random splotches of color, decorated the walls. The smell of modeling clay mingled with those of freshly ironed cotton, Clorox, and Jell-O.
Mavis Beeson leaned closer and grabbed Annie’s arm. Long, cherry-red nails jabbed painfully into her wrist. “You got to
listen
to me. I promise I’ll never see Billy again. I promise, oh God, I promise, but please don’t let Henry find out!”
“Was Jesse going to tell Henry?”
The question, sharp as a stiletto, cut through Mavis’s hysteria. Her hand fell away from Annie and slowly rose to clutch at her throat.
“Oh, no, no. We had it all worked out. He promised me—”
“Mavis, Jesus God, keep your mouth shut!”
Billy Cameron’s shout exploded in the tiny living room. He stood in the kitchen doorway, filling it, and furious brown eyes blazed at Mavis. From the bedroom, Kevin’s voice rose in a frightened wail.
Billy’s usually pleasant face was almost unrecognizable, it was so distorted with fury—and fear. “She’s worse thantelling a cop,” he stormed. “Don’t say a word—or they will take Kevin away, for God’s sake.”
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Kevin’s scream choked off into sobs.
Mavis looked at Annie with sick horror, then jumped up and ran to the bedroom. She reappeared, clutching the terrified little boy. “It’s all right, honey it’s all right. Mommy’s here.” She stared at Annie, and said again, “Mommy’s here,” and her voice broke. Helpless tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Mommy, Mommy,” the little boy wailed.
Billy reached them in two strides, pulling the girl and baby into his arms. He glared defiantly over their heads at Annie. “Last winter, I was on the road right outside Chastain. This girl with a baby ran out onto the highway, and in the headlights I could see her hair streaming in the wind. I knew she was scared, from the way she ran. Something bad had happened. I stopped and got them in the car. They were both crying, and she had blood running out of her ear where her husband had hit her, and the kid’s arm hung funny. I brought them home here to Broward’s Rock. Where they could be safe. I helped her get a job at the five-and-dime, and she’s taking care of Kevin real good.”
Annie stared at the bleached-blond head pressed so tightly against his chest and tried to understand. But Annie was free and independent and treated with respect. She lived in such a sane and well-ordered world that being beaten by a man was incomprehensible.
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” she asked. For God’s sake, Billy was a policeman. Hadn’t they even talked about it?
Mavis half turned in Billy’s arms. Tear-smeared eye shadow streaked her face. “Henry would kill me,” she said jerkily. “Then what would happen to Kevin? I can’t tell anybody! I got to get away. That’s what I got to do. I got to get so far away, he’ll never find us. That’s what I should have done that night, but it was so cold and Kevin was hurt.” She struggled in Billy’s embrace. “I got to get away.”
“Honey, honey, honey,” Billy crooned, holding her gently and trying to break into that circle of
The receiver buzzed like an angry wasp.
And dully, but with increasing volume, someone knocked on the locked front door of Confidential Commissions.
Annie stared helplessly at the blue eyes brimming with tears.
“Please, please don’t tell anyone. If it gets into the papers, if Henry finds me—oh God, he’ll take Kevin away.”
Annie sat beside the crying woman on the tiny room’s single sofa. The cushions were worn and lumpy, but neatly mended. A wicker chair with chipped white paint was the only other furniture. The room would have been depressingly dismal except for the scattering of brightly colored blocks, toy cars, and empty margarine containers, strung together with a bright red thread. Crayon drawings, random splotches of color, decorated the walls. The smell of modeling clay mingled with those of freshly ironed cotton, Clorox, and Jell-O.
Mavis Beeson leaned closer and grabbed Annie’s arm. Long, cherry-red nails jabbed painfully into her wrist. “You got to
listen
to me. I promise I’ll never see Billy again. I promise, oh God, I promise, but please don’t let Henry find out!”
“Was Jesse going to tell Henry?”
The question, sharp as a stiletto, cut through Mavis’s hysteria. Her hand fell away from Annie and slowly rose to clutch at her throat.
“Oh, no, no. We had it all worked out. He promised me—”
“Mavis, Jesus God, keep your mouth shut!”
Billy Cameron’s shout exploded in the tiny living room. He stood in the kitchen doorway, filling it, and furious brown eyes blazed at Mavis. From the bedroom, Kevin’s voice rose in a frightened wail.
Billy’s usually pleasant face was almost unrecognizable, it was so distorted with fury—and fear. “She’s worse thantelling a cop,” he stormed. “Don’t say a word—or they will take Kevin away, for God’s sake.”
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Kevin’s scream choked off into sobs.
Mavis looked at Annie with sick horror, then jumped up and ran to the bedroom. She reappeared, clutching the terrified little boy. “It’s all right, honey it’s all right. Mommy’s here.” She stared at Annie, and said again, “Mommy’s here,” and her voice broke. Helpless tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Mommy, Mommy,” the little boy wailed.
Billy reached them in two strides, pulling the girl and baby into his arms. He glared defiantly over their heads at Annie. “Last winter, I was on the road right outside Chastain. This girl with a baby ran out onto the highway, and in the headlights I could see her hair streaming in the wind. I knew she was scared, from the way she ran. Something bad had happened. I stopped and got them in the car. They were both crying, and she had blood running out of her ear where her husband had hit her, and the kid’s arm hung funny. I brought them home here to Broward’s Rock. Where they could be safe. I helped her get a job at the five-and-dime, and she’s taking care of Kevin real good.”
Annie stared at the bleached-blond head pressed so tightly against his chest and tried to understand. But Annie was free and independent and treated with respect. She lived in such a sane and well-ordered world that being beaten by a man was incomprehensible.
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” she asked. For God’s sake, Billy was a policeman. Hadn’t they even talked about it?
Mavis half turned in Billy’s arms. Tear-smeared eye shadow streaked her face. “Henry would kill me,” she said jerkily. “Then what would happen to Kevin? I can’t tell anybody! I got to get away. That’s what I got to do. I got to get so far away, he’ll never find us. That’s what I should have done that night, but it was so cold and Kevin was hurt.” She struggled in Billy’s embrace. “I got to get away.”
“Honey, honey, honey,” Billy crooned, holding her gently and trying to break into that circle of
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