What You Wish For (28 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: What You Wish For
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Helen risked a glance at the car almost abreast of her in the opposite lane. Daniel Ward smiled at her and blew her a kiss. She jerked her neck forward just as Lucie leaped over the seat, onto the console, and then into her lap. “Shhh, it's going to be okay. It's okay, Lucie. He's not going to hurt you. I'll kill him first. I mean it. Just lie still, baby. Max is okay. He's with Sam.”
Where was her gun? She couldn't think. Had she put it in the console or was it in her purse? She'd been so rattled she simply couldn't remember. She shifted to a more comfortable position, allowing the little dog to lie in the space between her legs. She was shivering uncontrollably. It was in the deep pocket of her jacket. She could feel it pressing into her hipbone. She took her right hand off the wheel, fumbled with the flap of the pocket until she felt the cold butt of the gun. She withdrew it slowly and placed it in her lap.
Helen realized suddenly that it had stopped snowing. Patches of the road were wet and clear. The trucker back at Truckers' Haven had been right. There was so little traffic, she almost had the road to herself. There was nothing ahead of her now—just Daniel across from her and a few cars farther back on the road.
Daniel was fully abreast of her now, tapping lightly on the horn to get her attention. Helen continued to concentrate on the road ahead of her, refusing to glance at her husband. He sounded his horn again. This time it was a sharp blast to get her attention. Lucie squirmed in her lap. The road was entirely clear now and wet from the runoff of the snow, enabling her to drive with one hand. She lowered the window next to her and then picked up the gun in her right hand. The moment she had Daniel's attention she brought up her hand with the gun so he could see that she was not defenseless. He laughed, a sound that in the first days of their marriage she had found endearing. Now it made her blood run cold.
“Get off at the next exit, Helen,” he shouted through his open window. “If you don't, I'll get behind you and shoot out your tires. The playing field is level now,” he said, bringing up his own gun to show her. “Do as I say, Helen. I just want to talk to you.”
Helen pressed the button to raise the window. Moments later, when she looked into the rearview mirror, she saw the silver car behind her. He
would
shoot out her tires.
She would have to do what he wanted. Another dumb asinine move on her part. In the scheme of things, what was one more wrong move going to do? At least Sam and Max were safe. In the same scheme of things, that was more important.
Helen drove steadily, aware of the car behind her as she watched for one of the green road signs she'd come to depend on.
She thought it incredible that she was so calm.
Do people feel this way before they die? Do they feel this way before they kill someone?
She wondered if she was going to turn into a killer or if she would be killed. Where would it happen? How would it happen?
Helen took a mighty breath as she turned on her signal light and hit the off-ramp. Ahead of her were colorful signs for two different motels, two different gas stations, and a huge homemade wooden sign that said GET YOUR XMAS TREES EARLY. She had the crazy urge to drive into the tree lot and order a tree. Instead, she veered to the shoulder of the road as Daniel Ward pulled ahead of her. Obviously, she was supposed to follow him.
25
Her heart pounding in her chest, Helen stayed a car length behind her husband. It was almost dark out, and a low-lying fog was starting to move in. She shivered at the eerie sight highlighted by Daniel's parking lights. Red fog. Considering the circumstances, it seemed appropriate.
Helen cuddled the little dog next to her, stroking her silky head with her left hand as she steered the Pathfinder in Daniel's wake. She crooned and sang “Twinkle, twinkle, little star . . .” in the calmest voice she could muster. Lucie trembled as she tried to press her small body as close to Helen as possible.
The moment she turned off the ignition, Helen slipped out of her heavy jacket. “I'm going to leave my jacket on the seat for you, Lucie. You have to stay here. I won't be long. I'll bring you a treat.”
Helen almost jumped out of her skin when she turned to see Daniel standing next to the car door. He rapped sharply on the window. Lucie cowered against the plush seat as she tried to burrow into Helen's jacket. She whimpered and cried, a heartbreaking sound to Helen's ears.
Daniel knuckled the window a second time. That meant his patience was running out. Daniel never gave second chances. She stared straight into his eyes as she watched him try to open the car door. His mouth tightened into a thin line when the door wouldn't yield to the pressure of his hand.
Helen pressed the lock and got out of the Pathfinder. She hit the remote button on the key chain, locking Lucie inside. She'd cracked the window in the back earlier for Lucie's comfort.
“You know I hate to be kept waiting,” Daniel said.
Helen shouldered her way ahead of him. “Ask me if I care what you think or what you want.” She was glad the area was well lit, light spilling from the buildings in every direction. She still felt calm, almost cocky, as she pushed the palms of both hands against the plate-glass door to open it. She didn't bother holding it for her husband; instead she let it swing back to hit him full in the face. She smiled at his muffled curse. This was the Daniel she knew and hated.
Inside the steamy restaurant, Helen walked toward the row of booths on the left side of the room and bumped straight into the arms of Julia Martin. In doing so, Daniel plowed into her, forcing her forward and Julia backward.
Helen's eyes widened in shock and surprise. What did Julia's presence mean? She managed to mutter an apology of sorts at the same time swinging around to face Daniel. “I have to use the rest room, Daniel.” She made her voice purposely loud enough for Julia to hear everything she said.
“Then give me the car keys. This table hasn't been cleared,” Daniel said, his face full of fury and disgust.
“No to the car keys. As you can see, it's crowded. The waitress will get to it when she can. Order me a black coffee, a cup of soup, and a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“The keys, Helen,” Daniel said forcefully, reaching for her arm.
“The car is mine. That means the car keys are mine, too, Daniel.” Helen turned to leave a second time when Daniel physically blocked her path and Julia's as well.
A burly trucker wearing a baseball cap that said, Lulu's Bait Shack on it, sized up the situation and pushed Daniel into the booth. “The lady said to wait till they cleared the table, and she has to use the rest room. Ladies are funny that way. What part of what the lady said didn't you understand? You go ahead, ma'am, I'll see that the gentleman waits for you.”
“What kind of place is this?” Julia muttered for Daniel's benefit as she shouldered past him and the trucker. She beelined for the bathroom right behind Helen.
Inside the small rest room, Helen wrapped her arms around Julia. “What are you doing here? How did you find me? You followed me, didn't you? Do you want to get yourself killed?”
“You're right. I followed you. I've been up and down this interstate so many times I'm dizzy. I was about to turn around and go back when you walked in here. What are you doing, Helen?”
“There's no time for explanations. Lucie is in the car. Take her with you. Take my jacket, too, and her little bag. Sam was stuck in a snowbank back on the interstate. I let Max out when I saw him. Almost immediately Daniel pulled alongside me and I just took off. I don't know if Sam realized it was Daniel or not. I couldn't take the chance. Here's the car key. I have an extra one. Take care of Lucie for me. You might have to sing ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star,' till you get hoarse. It's the only thing that calms her down. God, what if he saw you coming in here with me?”
“The trucker blocked his view. You go out first, and I'll wait. Maybe there's another way out of here. Where should I go, Helen?”
“Back to the shelter.”
“I'm out. Once you leave of your own accord, you have to leave. You know the rules. You were the lone exception. Are you headed for California?”
“Yes.”
“Then that's where I'm going. The car's in good shape. I have enough money.”
“Okay. When you get there, go to ComStar and ask for Arthur King. Tell him I sent you, and tell him what's going on. I'll get there when I get there.”
“What about Sam?”
“I can't worry about Sam now. He has Max. He's smart enough to figure this all out. He'll probably be waiting for us when we get there. Promise me you'll take care of Lucie for me.”
“Helen, I will guard that little dog with my life. Go on now, get out there and do whatever it is you're planning on doing.”
“Thanks, Julia,” Helen said, hugging her tightly.
The bustle of the restaurant sounded so normal. Pies and cakes that always tasted like cardboard sat under the glass domes all along the long counter that was full of tired-looking people waiting for their food. Waitresses, all of them weary from being on their feet, did their best to be cheerful for their customers as they carried the heavy trays. Conversation swelled until it bounced off the walls. Daniel, a murderous scowl on his face, stared at her as she approached the table. The trucker lumbered to his feet and smiled. “I kept your seat warm, ma'am.”
“Thank you.” Helen smiled.
“You be careful out there now, you hear. It's warming up, and the fog is going to be really bad.”
“I'll be careful.”
“Don't you
ever
talk to me like that again in front of people,” Daniel hissed venomously the moment the trucker was out of earshot.
Helen leaned across the table, a smile on her face. Her lips barely moving, she said, “Kiss my ass, Daniel.” She moved back and leaned against the back of the booth. “What are you going to do to me, Daniel, knock my teeth out, bust my kneecaps? On your best day, you bastard, you couldn't take me.”
“Stupid bitch.”
Helen leaned across the table again, the same smile on her face as she repeated her statement a second time. “Don't ever confuse me with the old Helen you used to beat to a pulp. You don't scare me anymore because I see now what a pathetic person you really are. Look at you. You look like a derelict. I'm ashamed to be sitting here with you.”
“You have a short memory, Helen.”
“On the contrary, my memory is long and detailed. I documented each and every abuse where you are concerned. I'm going to see to it that it never happens again.”
“You're dead, Helen.”
“You can't scare me, Daniel. Not anymore. I will never forgive you for what you did to Lucie. I take full blame for letting you beat on me because I feared for my life. Lucie is a defenseless animal. Any man who beats an animal in my opinion is scum of the earth. You, Daniel, are scum of the earth.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
It was a good question. Because she wasn't a natural-born liar, Helen opted for the truth. “I figured it was the only way to keep Sam safe. I'm divorcing you and marrying him as soon as Arthur King gets the paperwork straightened out. I wanted to tell you that in person. I also wanted to tell you that I am going to file charges against you the moment I get to California. I will not rest until you're locked up for what you did to me and Lucie. You are never going to get your hands on Isabel Tyger's fortune. You're insane. I don't know why I never saw that. Maybe I did, but I was so afraid of you back then I didn't want to act on it. As I said, I'm not that Helen any longer.”
“You're my wife,” Daniel said as he bit into his grilled cheese sandwich.
“Only on paper, Daniel. I'm going to leave now. I'm not going anywhere with you. I know you have a gun. I have one, too. I know how to use it. There's a state trooper sitting at the counter. Make a fuss, don't make a fuss, it's up to you.” Helen fumbled in her bag for her wallet. She signaled the weary waitress and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
“Sit down, Helen.”
Helen smiled. “Go to hell, Daniel.” As she struggled out of the booth, she felt her shoulders tighten up. Would Daniel pump bullets into her back? Not likely. He'd wait till she got outside.
She ran like the hounds of hell were on her heels.
“Whoa, little lady. What's wrong?” the giant with the Lulu's Bait Shack cap asked as he stiff-armed her in the middle of the parking lot.
“Listen, can I ride with you? Where are you going? I have to . . . I have . . . Oh, God, here he comes!”
“I knew that dandy was trouble. Sure you can ride with me. I'm going to Raleigh, North Carolina. How far do you want to go?”
“Just to the nearest airport. I'll be glad to pay you.”
“You stay right here with me. I have to pay for my gas. That's my rig over there. I can take you right to Reagan National Airport. Will that help you?”
“You just saved my life. I don't even know your name. Mine is Helen Stanley.”
“Most folks call me Big John. My wife calls me honey, and my kids call me daddy.”
“How about if I just call you John?”
“Sounds good. Will that pipsqueak follow us?”
“Yes.”
“Then we'll have to do something about that. What kind of car is he driving?”
Helen relaxed. She knew she was in good hands.
When they got into the eighteen-wheeler, John got on his CB radio, put out a call to any truckers in the vicinity, and told them, “Here's what I want you to do....”
 
With no baggage to claim, Helen walked past business travelers from the early-morning flight in search of the exit, where she could pick up a cab. She had no hope that Arthur King or Gerald Davis would be there to meet her, even though she'd called from the plane. When she heard her name called, she turned, a look of fear on her face. She relaxed a moment later when she stared at the objects of her thoughts.
“Thank God you're all right, young lady. Izzie would never forgive us if something happened to you,” Gerald Davis said. At Helen's frown, he explained, “From childhood, I called her Izzie. Arthur here called her Izz. I thought you would know who I was referring to.”
“Oh. I did. My thinking hasn't been too clear of late.”
“Where would you like us to take you?”
“The nearest hotel or motel. I don't have much money left since I bought my ticket at the last moment. Something cheap until I can figure out what to do.”
“Would you like to go to Izzie's ranch? It's yours now. I know you said you didn't want any part of it, but it would solve your immediate problem. In addition, we need to talk and not be interrupted. If you don't like it there, you can leave. There are several cars at your disposal. Think of it as a plan or an immediate solution,” the vet said.
Helen nodded. “Okay, but just for now. Mr. King, have you had any luck untangling my legal status? Am I still dead?”
“We have in our possession a copy of your birth certificate. It has a raised seal, so that's one item off our list. The death certificate is proving to be a little dicey. According to the records you were cremated and then laid to rest in a mausoleum. That's also a little dicey. What Izz did was claim a homeless person from the morgue and said she was you. Yes, it was wrong of her to do that. In her zeal to protect you, she simply didn't think straight. She considered it a means to an end. She claimed a body no one wanted, cremated it, and then gave it a proper burial. She did pay attention to you when you said your husband would eventually find you no matter what was done. She didn't want that to happen. We're going to correct the mistake. Doctors and morticians are not the easiest people to deal with when their reputations are at stake, and that's as it should be, too. Your mother could be a big help to us, but she flat out refused to help. As far as she's concerned, you're dead. All she would talk about was the insurance money. It will be up to you, Helen, to enlist her aid.”
“My mother?”

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