Heart of the Hawk Page 14

  Finally, suitcase in hand, she climbed the stairs to Mrs Gould's apartment and knocked at the door. When the old woman opened it, she gasped in amazement.

  'Rachel? Rachel—my goodness, where have you been?'

  'I... I've been away, Mrs Gould. May I come in, please?'

  'Of course, dear. What a nice surprise! I was worried to death about you. I came back from my son's house months ago and no one knew where you'd gone or... For heaven's sake, here I am, babbling like an old fool, and you look positively exhausted! How would you like a nice cup of tea?'

  Rachel smiled wearily. 'That would be lovely.'

  Mrs Gould bustled back and forth for the next few minutes, setting out sugar and milk and cookies on the low table before the couch. Finally she poured two steaming mugfuls of dark tea and handed one to Rachel.

  'Now,' she said, 'tell me where you've been all this time, dear. They said you'd vanished into thin air.'

  Rachel nodded. 'Yes,' she said, 'I...I went away rather suddenly. Someone...someone my stepsister had known came for Jamie and me.'

  The old woman smiled. 'A friend of Cassie's? That's nice. How's my Jamie? And where is he?' She leaned forward anxiously. 'Is something wrong, Rachel?'

  Rachel shook her head. 'No, no, everything is fine. Jamie is—er—he's staying with Cassie's friend for a while.'

  'While you get settled, you mean.'

  'Exactly. Mrs Gould, I know it's an imposition, but— might I stay here for the night? I'll be out of your way early in the morning, I promise.'

  'Of course, dear. But you seem...are you ill, Rachel?'

  'I'm just tired. It's been a long day.'

  'Well then, let me get you a blanket and some pillows, dear. The couch has seen better days, but you're welcome to it.'

  The old woman fussed over her until finally Rachel forced a yawn and pretended exhaustion. But once she was alone on the narrow couch, she lay staring into the dark. She'd come this far, but she had no idea of what to do next. She'd stay in New York, yes. That way she'd be near her baby. Maybe she could even get a glimpse of him, once in a while.

  The thought was so pathetic that it brought tears to her eyes. But that hope was all she had left. Her entire world had collapsed around her. First she'd lost Cassie, and now she'd lost Jamie. And David...oh God, David! He'd come into her life and changed everything. Until she'd met him, she had thought Jamie's love was all she needed to banish the loneliness that had been hers most of her life. And then David had shown her another kind of love, a love that made her realise how incomplete her life had been...

  What he'd shown her was that she was the worst kind of fool. Damn him to hell, she thought, punching her fist into the pillow, damn him, damn him...

  By dawn, Rachel had neither tears nor anger left. She was numb; she lay in the chill of the early morning, trying to find a reason to go on living.

  Take things one day at a time, Rachel.

  Her grandmother had always said that. But what was the point? Her days wouldn't change. Each would be as empty as the last.

  God provides for him that trusts, Rachel.

  Rachel sighed. All right, Grandma, she thought, I'll give it a try. For a little while, anyway. And then we'll see.

  At breakfast, Mrs Gould urged her to stay on.

  'I'd enjoy the company, Rachel. Just you remember that if you can't find an apartment.'

  Rachel patted the old woman's hand. 'You're very kind. Thank you.'

  'What about your old job, dear? Will they take you back?'

  'I'm not going back to the Golden Rooster,' Rachel told her without hesitation. 'I'll find something else.'

  But there was nothing else, not for someone whose secretarial skills were rusty, and a clerical job wouldn't even cover the rent for the tiny apartment she finally found in a run-down part of the city. It was cheap, but not cheap enough, especially since she'd shredded Vanessa's cheque and flushed it down the toilet the night before. She didn't regret it, but it made her situation more desperate. Tears of frustration filled her eyes as she stood reading the 'help wanted' sign in the window of a bar that was a duplicate of the Golden Rooster. She had come full circle. The difference was that there was no Jamie to go home to any more.

  She forced herself to get up each morning and go through the routines of the day. At night, she worked until her feet ached from teetering on her high heels. She filled in for anyone who wanted time off, working extra hours without complaint. But that was the way she wanted it; it meant that she fell into bed each night in an exhausted stupor, too tired to think or dream. She owned no television set and bought no newspapers, but every now and then David's picture leapt off a newsstand at her, once with a smiling Jamie in his arms. 'NY'S NEXT GOV?' the headline said, and Rachel turned away as a bitter taste flooded her mouth. David's ploy had worked, then. The Hawk had what he wanted.

  There was a heavy snowstorm late in January, one bad enough to discourage even the bar's regular customers. At midnight, the owner closed up and told everybody to go home. Rachel took off her skimpy costume and pulled on her usual old cords and sweater. It was freezing out; she huddled under her coat as she hurried along the dark, icy streets. She hated these blocks between the bar and her apartment. Sometimes -there were drunks lounging in the doorways. Not tonight, though. At least the weather had driven them off the streets.

  The silence of the heavy snow had made the street a twisted wonderland. She was breathless as always by the time she reached the fifth floor of her apartment building. Her hands were numb with the cold—it took forever to fumble the key from her pocket and into the lock. And then, just as she swung the door open into the yawning darkness of her apartment, the hair rose on the back of her neck. Someone was lurking in the blackness at the end of the hall.

  'Who's there?' she whispered. No one answered, but she heard the rustle of fabric. 'I... I'm not alone,' she lied, desperation roughening her voice. 'My date's going to be here in a second. He's just parking the car...'

  'Then you'd better tell him to stay the hell away, Rachel,' said David, stepping into the light. 'I don't think you want anyone to hear us.'

  'David?' His name was a whisper floating in the air between them. She felt her heart lurch against her ribs. 'David?' she said again.

  He smiled in that cold way she remembered all too well. 'You always were a bright girl, Rachel. Yes, it's me.' He glanced down the staircase and then back at her. 'Where's your friend?'

  She tore her eyes from his face and followed the direction in which he was looking. 'My friend? Oh, that... There's... there's no one. I just said that because I thought... I thought...' Rachel took a deep breath. 'How did you find me?'

  David smiled again. 'Ah, Rachel, Rachel, you disappoint me. I told you money can buy anything. The same detective as last time—that's how I found you.' He nodded at the open doorway. 'Aren't you going to ask me in?'

  'No,' she said. 'What for? What do you want, David? What are you doing her??'

  He stepped past her and the darkness inside her apartment swallowed him up. 'One question at a time, please. And I have no intention of answering any of them in the hall.'

  The light clicked on in the living-room. She blinked in the sudden brightness and then she moved slowly through the door. David stepped forward and slammed it shut behind her.

  'This, place makes your other apartment look like a palace,' he remarked, barely glancing at the peeling walls and stained chairs. 'I guess five thousand bucks doesn't buy much these days.' She watched, transfixed, as he walked from one end of the shabby room to the other, pausing before a framed photograph of Cassie. 'You really did love her a great deal, didn't you?'

  'Look, David...'

  'I just hope she was worth it.'

  'Worth what? I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know what you're doing here... What's the matter? Do you need me for a testimonial? Isn't Jamie enough?'

  His lips drew back from his teeth. 'Well,' he drawled, 'at last! I wondered if you'd eve
r get around to mentioning Jamie. You really had me fooled, you know. I mean, you did quite a job of convincing me that you loved the boy. But I was right at the beginning, wasn't I, Rachel? You didn't really care for him. He was just a burden Cassie had left you...'

  But Rachel had stopped listening. The coppery taste of fear flooded her mouth. 'It's Jamie,' she whispered, moving towards him. 'It is, isn't it? Something's happened to him.'

  David nodded. 'Yes,' he said grimly, 'something's happened to him. He had chickenpox.'

  Her face whitened. 'Oh God!' she gasped. 'My baby— is he all right? Does he have a fever? Tell me, David! I...'

  The golden eyes blazed with cold fury. 'Do you really give a damn? You didn't give a damn when you ran out and left him.'

  She shook her head. 'I didn't run out. You know that...'

  'You ran and never looked back. The hell with my son, the hell with me. You...'

  'David, I beg you—what's wrong with Jamie? Please, tell me!'

  'He's got Reyes' Syndrome,' he said, his voice flat and harsh. 'The doctor says his chances are fifty-fifty.' He took a step towards her. 'Will you come with me, Rachel? He... he cried out for you in his sleep last night.'

  'Will I...' Her words ended in a sob. 'Please,' she begged, 'let's hurry!'

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE CITY streets lay icy and dangerous beneath the snow. David drove with mindless abandon until they had twice spun out of their lane and into the path of oncoming traffic. Then he slowed the Jaguar to a pace that was merely terrifying. Rachel sat numbly beside him, staring into the stormy night. A dozen questions about Jamie raced through her head, but she was afraid to ask them, more afraid to hear the answers. Finally, as the lights of the city fell behind them, she turned towards David and ran her tongue across her lips.

  'Is Jamie...' Her voice faded, and she cleared her throat. 'Does he.. .does he know you?'

  David's fingers tensed on the steering wheel. 'I don't know,' he said flatly. 'The doctor says he's not comatose—not yet. But he doesn't respond to anything. He just... he just lies there...'

  Rachel closed her eyes against the terrifying image. 'Is Emma with him?'

  'Yes, of course. She's barely left his side.'

  'Thank God for that!' she murmured. 'He must be so frightened—a hospital's a terrifying place when you're so little.'

  'Damned right,' David said grimly. 'That's why I kept him at home.'

  'At home? But…'

  'The hospital wouldn't agree to let me stay with him. So I brought the equipment and the nurses and the doctor to the house until...until there's some change or...' His voice broke and he cleared his throat. 'You'd better buckle your seat belt,' he said gruffly. 'This isn't a hell of a good night for a drive.'

  Rachel nodded silently. The snow was a maelstrom of whirling flakes, and she stared at it blindly, thinking of the first time she'd made this journey. So much was the same—it had been late at night then too, And she could remember sitting as far from David as possible, the same as she was now. And yet so much had changed. Then, she had looked at his shadowed profile and seen only a stranger. Now she felt herself remembering the taste of his mouth, the feel of his skin against hers...

  Stop it! she thought, pressing her forehead against the cold of the window. She was remembering the wrong things. Think about how he used you, she told herself. Think about how he stole Jamie from you. Think about all the things Vanessa told you that terrible night...

  Anger embraced her, and she welcomed it like an old friend.

  'Can't you go any faster?' she demanded.

  David's head swivelled towards hers. 'Do you want to drive the damned car? I'm trying to get us there in one piece. A hell of a lot of good you'll do Jamie if you end up lying on a slab in a mortuary!'

  She knew he was right. The roadway was a frozen ribbon curling treacherously into the dark, and the snow was piling up at an alarming rate. What would happen when they reached the narrow, winding roads ahead?

  'What if the roads aren't passable?' she asked.

  He answered without hesitation. 'We'll make it.'

  Yes, she thought, watching his shadowed face, they would. Once David Griffin set his mind to something, he succeeded. She, of all people, knew that. Tonight she was grateful for that determination. If only she could be as certain they'd reach her baby in time...

  'Tell me about Jamie's illness,' she said, forcing aside the sudden fear that assaulted her. 'Chickenpox, you said...'

  David nodded. 'Yes, that's right. A mild case—some spots, a little fever—and then, just when he should have been getting better, he began to throw up. His fever came back, and it climbed higher and higher. It was Reyes' Syndrome...' He slammed his fist against the steering wheel and his voice became harsh. 'Who in hell ever heard of Reyes' Syndrome?'

  'Isn't there anything they can do?' whispered Rachel.

  'They've done it. They've run out of medical miracles.' He glanced at her in the half-light from the dashboard. 'That's why I came for you,' he said coldly. 'I'm willing to try anything now. And when Jamie called for you last night...'

  For the moment her anger displaced reality. 'Why did you wait so long?' she demanded, twisting towards him. 'Why didn't you contact me when he first became ill?'

  His laughter was mirthless. '"The best defence is a good offence," eh? Isn't that another one of good old Grandma's snappy sayings?' He glared at her in the shadowy darkness, and the hatred in his eyes drove her back into the corner of the seat. 'How the hell was I supposed to contact you? With a crystal ball? I wasn't even sure you'd agree to come with me tonight.'

  Her mouth fell open in disbelief. 'You what? Are you crazy, David? My baby needs me...'

  'Oh, that's touching. Such tender-feelings, Rachel! Isn't it a little late? Where was all that devotion when you left him?'

  'You're a fine one to talk about devotion, David! You can lie to the rest of the world, but I was there when you first came for Jamie, remember? It certainly wasn't devotion that made you do that. And devotion had nothing to do with why you took him away from me.'

  He flung a hand towards her. 'Listen,' he growled, 'spare me the speeches, right? They don't mean a damn, and frankly, even the sound of your voice makes me sick. All I'm interested in is pulling Jamie through this.'

  Rachel stared at him and then she nodded. 'Believe me,' she said in a broken whisper, 'that's exactly how I feel.'

  'Good,' he snapped. 'At least we agree on something.'

  Yes, she thought, as silence settled around them, at least they agreed on something. Tears slid down her cheeks and she brushed them away with rough haste. Grandma used to say that the deeper you loved, the deeper you hated, but Rachel had never understood the truth of those words until this moment. The pain of David's betrayal was still as fresh as if it had happened only yesterday, and she despised herself for being so weak.

  Endless minutes went by until the final stretch of twisted road lay ahead of them. She held her breath while the Jaguar laboured up the steep incline, sliding and skidding with stomach-wrenching abruptness, until at last they were through the iron gates and in the driveway. The car had barely come to a stop before she was out and hurrying to the front door. It opened as she reached it, and Barton's worried face appeared before her.

  'Hello, Miss Cooper. I'm glad you...'

  She touched his arm as she brushed past him, David's footsteps pounding behind her as she raced up the stairs. But when she reached Jamie's room, her courage almost deserted her. A coppery taste flooded her mouth and she hesitated, her fingers curled around the doorknob. Suddenly David's hand was on her shoulder.

  'Are you all right?'

  His touch was impersonal, his concern only that she be strong for Jamie's sake, but still she could feel his strength flowing into her. She squared her shoulders and nodded.

  'Yes,' she said, 'yes, I'm fine.' Composing herself, Rachel opened the door and stepped into the room.

  The teddy bears were gone. What had been a nu
rsery was a hospital, crowded with oxygen tanks and metal trolleys bearing basins and syringes. Bambi and Thumper peered down from the wallpaper like alien creatures from a distant planet.

  Emma was standing beside the crib. She turned towards the door and her face lit with relief.

  'Thank you, Lord,' she murmured, as a; white-uniformed figure rose from a chair beside Jamie's crib.

  'Has there been any change?' David demanded.

  The nurse shook her head. 'No, sir—none.'

  The woman said more, a litany of counts and medications, but Rachel heard her as if in a dream. Reality was centred on the child lying before her. Jamie was on his back, his arms at his sides, a blanket drawn up to his chin. A transparent tube led from an oxygen container into his tiny nostrils.

  'Jamie,' Rachel said in a choked whisper, 'Jamie...' She moved towards him slowly, hands outstretched, fighting to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks. 'Is he--is he asleep?'

  The nurse glanced at David and then at Rachel. 'Well, yes, in a sense. He...'

  'He has bad dreams when he sleeps on his back,' she murmured, knowing how foolish that Was even as she said it. The unnatural position, the shallow rise and fall of the little chest, told her more emphatically than words ever could that her baby was desperately ill.

  She grasped the crib rail and bent over it, whispering soft words of reassurance she knew Jamie couldn't hear, then she put her hand against his cheek. His skin was hot and dry, as if an unholy fire were consuming him.

  'He's burning up,' she said, raising frightened eyes to the nurse.

  'He's getting antibiotics, and there are orders to start him on intravenous fluids if...'

  David brushed past the woman. 'It's been two days now,' he said in a harsh voice. 'Two goddamned days, and he hasn't responded to anything. The doctor says...' He broke off and looked around the room. 'Where is the doctor, dammit? I thought I told him...'

  Emma laid her hand lightly on his arm. 'In the next room, Mr Griffin. He had to get some rest. I promised to wake him if there was any change.'

  Rachel's eyes sought David's. 'Isn't there anything you can do?' she pleaded.