But I didn’t.
Something inside me stopped me.
The voice of my father? Intuition? My own voice?
I wasn’t sure.
“I’ll pay you what I feel is appropriate, Doctor. Nothing is more important to me than my wife and child. I want her whole. She deserves to live a wonderful life free from demons.”
I ended the call.
Perhaps I could ensure that Daphne would eventually be free from her demons.
Unfortunately, I’d never be free from mine.
I pulled into the large parking lot at Piney Oaks Mental Health Hospital in Grand Junction. Wendy had not yet been released, but she would be any day now. If I was going to ensure Daphne’s safety, I needed to talk to Wendy before she was free.
I’d been here once before—during the night to check to make sure she was here and not out wreaking havoc somewhere. I’d found her asleep in her bed, alone. I’d searched her room to make sure she wasn’t hiding her drugs.
I’d found nothing.
Still, I had no doubt she’d been hiding something.
Today, I went by the book. No sneaking in and greasing greedy night employees’ palms. I checked in at the front desk, signed in, and asked to see Wendy Madigan.
“Looks like she’s unavailable at the moment,” the receptionist said.
“Unavailable? Where the hell is she?”
“Please don’t use that tone with me, sir.”
“Sorry.” I should have been sorrier than I was. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Why not?”
“Because medical records are private, sir.”
I resisted an eye roll. Sure, they were private…until I came up with the right price. But I couldn’t do that right now in broad daylight. Besides, I’d get the information from Pelletier later.
“Can you tell me when she’ll be available?”
“In about thirty minutes. You may wait if you’d care to.”
“Thank you. I will.”
I took a seat in the lounge area and picked up a magazine. I leafed through it, not actually reading or even seeing any of it. A few moments later, I set it back down on the table. I rose and walked to the water cooler, filled one of those paper cups that was pointed on the end, and drank it down. I tossed the oddly shaped cup in the trash can by the cooler.
Then I paced.
And I paced some more.
I watched the clock on the wall, alternating between it and my watch.
Until finally—
“Sir?”
I walked to the reception desk. “Yes?”
“Ms. Madigan is available for a visit now, and she’s accepted your request. A nurse will be out to take you to the patients’ visitation lounge.”
“Great. Thanks.”
This was it.
I’d interact with Wendy for the first time since I’d witnessed her get committed against her will.
My nerves jittered under my skin.
I could handle Wendy. Indeed, I was the only one who could.
But could I still?
What would greet me in this visitation lounge?
I didn’t know.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
But I had no choice. I had to see her. See for myself what was being released into society in a few days and also let her know that I expected her to stay the hell out of my wife’s life, my child’s life, and my life.
I steeled my countenance.
Wendy Madigan no longer had any hold on me. She hadn’t since I’d met Daphne.
Today she’d learn the truth of that.
Chapter Four
Daphne
What was I doing in Brad’s office? Had I lost time again?
I shrugged. I forced the issue from my mind. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Jonah’s cry. My baby needed me.
“I’m coming, little dove,” I said.
My breasts tingled as they let down their milk. Just hearing my child’s cry made my milk release. I was used to it.
I walked out of the office and down the hallway to the kitchen. Mazie held Jonah and attempted to comfort him.
“There’s your mama,” she said. “I think he’s hungry. It’s a hungry cry.”
I nodded. Definitely a hungry cry. I’d learned to distinguish his cries. Mazie was pretty good at it, but no one knew my baby like I did.
“Hey, little dove,” I said, taking him. “My goodness you’re getting heavy.”
“He’s a Steel, all right.” Mazie smiled. “Big stock. He’ll be big and broad just like his daddy.”
“Yes, he will be.” Not a doubt in my mind. Jonah would be the spitting image of the man I adored.
Brad Steel.
How I loved him.
I sighed as I walked down to the family room, sat down, and opened my blouse and bra. Jonah latched on eagerly.
If only Brad were around more often.
I was determined to be an understanding wife, not a needy one. The man I married was responsible for a multimillion-dollar ranch. A multimillion-dollar business. With the premature death of his father, the business took most of Brad’s time.
Mazie followed me down and took a seat on the leather couch. “Did I hear the doorbell ring earlier?”
I cocked my head. Sounded vaguely familiar. “Maybe. I don’t recall.”
“Didn’t you answer it?”
Had I? No. “No. Check with Belinda.”
“She’s at the grocery store.”
“Oh. Well, whoever it was must have gone away. If it was important, they’ll be back.”
“Sure enough. I’m just a little jittery about the door lately, ever since…”
Ever since we’d gotten a typewritten message in a Western Union envelope threatening the baby’s life. I was more than a little jittery myself.
Two threats had come in when he was no more than a week old, but since then, nothing.
No more threats.
It seemed to be over, thank God.
I had enough to worry about. My good friend Patty had left months ago to join the Peace Corps out of the blue, and her boyfriend, Ennis, had returned to his hometown of London to deal with his heartbreak. They were the only two friends I’d made during my short tenure at college, except for Brad’s friend Sean Murphy, who’d died at our wedding.
What a start to married life.
When I looked down at Jonah’s cherubic face, though, I knew my life was good. Yes, I’d suffered losses. So had Brad. But we had each other and our child.
We’d be okay.
Brad didn’t make it home for dinner. Belinda had prepared beef stew, one of his favorites. For a man who’d grown up with every privilege in life, Brad loved the simple things. Beef stew. A ride across the ranch on his horse. An afternoon rain shower. Picking a bouquet of wildflowers for me.
He hadn’t done the latter in a while. He hadn’t been home to do it.
It doesn’t matter, I told myself. Mazie’s greenhouse keeps us full of fresh blooms all the time.
But the wildflowers weren’t what mattered to me. The fact that Brad picked them for me was.
No reason to be unhappy, though. Not when I was nursing the most beautiful baby in the world.