Hope House (29 page)

That was the birthday of the first child Martine had delivered. Under this notation and for page after page were listings of all the deliveries that ever happened at Maison. Martine flipped through looking for Luke’s childbirth. She cried when she saw that Dr. Tad had made a note next to the date. “Luke. Clubfeet. Killed by Mick.”

She shut the book and put it in the suitcase. Dr. Tad had not numbered the births but there were hundreds and hundreds on the many pages.

For so long Martine had resented Gloria, who Dr. Tad
named the mother of all. He had acted as if Gloria had a choice. But if Dr. Tad said he was sorry to her in a book she would never read, then maybe she did not know about her children that Mr. Puglisi sold like fancy blue ribbon show dogs.

Dr. Tad wrote that she could never have children, but that was not true. New babies came from her every single day.

Maybe if Gloria knew about the babies she would come to Haiti and take them all back home with her. All the ones she could gather up.

She would want to kill Mr. Puglisi when Martine told her what a monster he was.

Martine sighed. No doubt this Gloria would want to kill Dr. Tad too. She cursed herself for not learning to read English better because whatever was written in the first few pages was a confession. An explanation. She hoped that the journal would show that Mr. Puglisi was the villain and Dr. Tad only a man who followed orders.

She did not need to read all the pages to know that Dr. Tad felt he had hurt Gloria so badly that he could never tell her he was sorry. It was too much hurt. Too much guilt to face.

Martine could not let Dr. Tad die holding that much shame and guilt.

Martine dragged the suitcase to the clinic and parked it in the lobby. Whenever Dr. Tad might wake, she would ask him what was in the journal, ask him to translate. He would tell her. Maybe freeing himself of the secret would make his body heal.

And if Dr. Tad died, then at least it would be with a clear conscience. Someday Martine would find Gloria and give her the book  so that she would know that Dr. Tad was sorry. She would know the truth of what Dr. Tad had placed in those pages.  

5.

New York City, late morning

Mick held the
iPhone out across from his face, smiled and pressed the button. He looked at the picture. “Cool.”

“
All the phones have cameras in them these days,” the gangly but stylish male black store clerk said. The Verizon store was small but had a wall of phones to choose from. This one caught Mick’s eye as soon as he walked in.

“Guess I was living in the stone age.”

“Well you did have an old model.  You can have this one for free if you’re willing to renew your contract for two years.”

Mick held the phone in his hand, fascinated by the wall paper and screensavers that were built in. “Sure, I’ll renew.”

“Great, let me get the paperwork for you.”

“Can I check my messages on this thing?”

“You’re welcome to use one of our phones to check. Right over there.”

He checked his home number. Nothing. He called Angela next.

“
Tommy Carpenter called. He didn’t leave his name but I recognized his voice
,” she said.

“What did he say?”

“
He didn’t want to leave a message.”
She paused to snap her gum and Mick rolled his eyes up. “
He just asked if you were here and I said no.”

“That it?”

“
That’s it, Mickey Mouse.”

He let that slide. “I lost my cell phone but I got a
n iPhone. A smart phone, they call it.”

“
I got one two years ago, remember?”

He groaned. She always had to outdo him. “Yeah, but
the clerk told me it’s the newest model. Newer than yours.”

She laughed and he joined her. Ah, sibling rivalry. He won this round.

“Okay, I’m going to check my cell phone voicemail now. I’ll be back at the office late this afternoon after I meet with the Clarksons.”

“
I’ll be here.”

He hung up and dialed his
voicemail.

“
Mick, bad news
.” It was Tommy’s voice. “
Gloria isn’t back in Massachusetts
,” he said. Duh,
thought Mick.  She had been in Maine and was probably on the way to New York. Tommy was such a bonehead.
Give me something new why don’t you
?

“
She’s with Malone in New York City and they booked a flight to Haiti for tomorrow. Call me as soon as you get this. You have to get a hold of Tad and warn him. And get down there yourself
.”

All the color drained from Mick’s face and his stomach clenched.  He tried to sit down or lean against something but all the store offered was a wall of hooks.

Mick shut the phone, set it down, and tried to stop his knees from shaking. He needed to get to Haiti before Gloria started talking to the girls. She was a freakin’ publisher, a wordsmith. If she figured out what was really going on it would be all over the media. She had the connections to get it out quick.  Armed as Malone was sure to be,  they could easily get into the compound. What good was Boris really as a guard anymore? And that coward Tad might bend. He was a weak link too. Had to go.

Mick tallied up how many people he’d have to kill to wrap this up. A bunch. Did he have enough bullets? He hadn’t packed extra.

He had to think about this logically. Mick had all the foreign operations running smoothly. He could get
someone
else to run Haiti. Plenty of doctors abroad who had lost their licenses would kill for a chance to be part of such a lucrative enterprise. He’d hire new guards, more of them than before, to keep the girls in line and the snoops out. Whatever it took—murder atop murder if it came to that.

He walked to the counter where the clerk was typing in his new contract information. Mick steadied himself. “We almost done here?”

“Just about.” The clerk plugged a cord into the phone and hit some keys. After a minute he put the phone in a box.

“Okay, sign this and you should be all set. You’re going to want to charge your phone before you use it.”

“Sure. Fine.” Mick scribbled his name everywhere he was asked and took his goody bag.

He walked outside into what had turned into a huge snowstorm and hailed a cab.  “Take me to JFK.”

The cabbie nodded. Mick took his phone from the box and dialed voicemail again. There were three more from Tommy but they all said the same thing, each with increasing volume and panic.

He dialed Tommy’s
office number from memory. When the secretary patched him through he said, “What the fuck, Tommy?”

“
It’s not my fault, Mick. I thought she was home.”

“She went to Maine with Malone two nights ago and visited one of the families. I figured she was headed to New York to see another. How is it I knew that and you didn’t?”

“
I’m sorry. I believed her. Hell, she called me from her house
.”

“Well, it was some kind of trick. You’re supposed to know these things. How could you not know? You’re supposed to be the family lawyer, supposed to be looking out for my interests.”

“
She told me
—” The phone beeped.

“She told you what?” Mick asked. He looked at the cabbie’s reflection in the mirror. Mick sneered at him and the guy faced the road again.  “What did she tell you, Tommy?”

Silence. What a coward, clamming up. Too quiet. Mick looked at his phone.  The screen was black.

He held the on button down but the battery was dead. Damn. He’d hoped the thing would have had a little juice.

“You got a flight?” the cabbie asked in a thick Hispanic accent.

“No, I’m going there to get my car washed. What do you think?”

“I just mean, some flights, they’re cancelled or delayed because of the snow.”

“Oh. Well, take me there anyway. I’ll wait. ”

“You maybe wait a long time.”

“I’ll buy a newspaper. Don’t worry about it.”

Mick smiled. If he couldn’t get out of the city, most likely Gloria and Kurt were in the same boat. In the same airport waiting for Haiti Air. Maybe he could take care of this quick and easy. Bang, bang.

They pulled up to the terminal.

The cabbie turned and smiled. “I talked to my boss. Some airlines are letting flights out. Maybe you get lucky.”

Not lucky enough if Malone and Gloria were already in the air.

Mick checked his laptop case with his gun tucked safely into it. He couldn’t bring it on board because of metal detectors and x-rays, but if he checked the bags he could smuggle anything. Security made it much too easy to bring guns into other countries. There was always the chance customs would check his luggage but he had a permit for it. He had a special compartment under the nylon where his computer was stored where he hid the small automatic and so far no one had ever thought to unzip that pocket. If they did, they’d encounter a vibrator first. He used that as a decoy. Customs officials putting their gloved hands around a nine inch pink rubber penis would be enough for them to stop searching that bag.

He laughed when he thought of it.

As he approached the long ticket line, he sighed. Gloria and Kurt were not in it. All the same, he was right behind them—and he had the element of surprise on his side. Who knew if they could even find Maison? They could drive around Haiti for days if they didn’t know the exact location.

He’d have to call Angela soon  and ask her to sit with the boys to give the nanny some relief. Angela would be thrilled. She loved those kids. Too bad she wasn’t married yet, that it didn’t work out with that other guy, that she didn’t have his kid. She’d make some lucky kid a great mother some day.

Mick looked at his watch. If he could get on the next flight, in a few hours the fun would start.

6.

Port Au Prince International Airport, Haiti, evening

Gloria removed her jacket when she stepped off the plane in Haiti. It was hotter than Miami but bearable. It helped that it was dark out. They had boarded their flight a few hours late, and then sat on the runway for four hours. Kurt had made quite a ruckus and demanded to be allowed to deboard the plane, along with the other passengers who were cold and hungry. But the staff refused. They promised they were departing soon and to just be patient. The ple
dge of a free future flight did nothing to alleviate anyone’s anger.

When they finally took off, the passengers were all relieved but the ride was turbulent. Gloria didn’t normally drink hard liquor, as she was more the wine type, but she was relieved when Kurt handed her a nip from his Jack Daniels
stash purchased earlier at the airport.

It shouldn’t have taken this long to get here but at least they had landed safe.

Kurt took off his sweater. She wished she’d had the foresight to wear layers. Stuck in her bulky, beige angora sweater until a dressing room might present itself, she gritted her teeth and then asked, “Now what?”

“We find someone who knows where Maison D’Espoir is located.”

“Easier said than done” she replied, “Especially if the locals claim they know nothing about it.”

“Well, it is a big country. If we only knew what town it was in.”

“The article you found didn’t say where it was located?” Gloria asked.

“No, just that it was in Haiti. Purposefully vague. Let’s get a ride into the closest village and ask around there. This is the city. We’re not going to get any help here.”

“We could ask at the government offices. Maison would have to be registered as a business or a charity right?”

Kurt smirked at her. “If they were legitimate the answer would be yes. At least in our country.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“Except that it’s nighttime and a weekend and the offices are all closed. Come on, let’s look outside the city. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He pointed to a car whose driver had been eyeing them. “Let’s use this guy.”

Gloria was nervous about leaving the relative safety of Port Au Prince. The idea of taking a cab ride from someone who wasn’t even driving a taxi but a beat up car, didn’t feel safe. Just because Kurt had a hunch didn’t warrant using the driver’s services. “How about we use one of those cabs, the ones with the logos on them?” she pleaded.

“No. This guy is more likely to give out information. He’s hungrier than the rest. I can see it in his eyes.”

Gloria wondered why Kurt thought hungry was a good thing. She clutched her purse tight as she crawled into the torn vinyl backseat. 

“Where you going?” the driver asked. It was hard to guess his age. His hair was black with no gray and his skin was dark, shiny, and tight. But his eyes looked old.  When he spun around to talk to them she saw a big scar on his arm. And another on his neck, straight across. When he smiled, she
saw that a number of front teeth were missing. He was so thin. She didn’t think that’s what Kurt meant by hungry, but surely he didn’t eat enough.