“That’s right,” Monica sniffled.
“Has she opened up to you about the night of the kidnapping? Confided in you?”
“Not at all. I think she just wants to forget the whole thing.”
“Do you think she’s remembered any more about the guy who strong-armed her?”
Monica shrugged. “She just told me that he was really strong. Said he reminded her of a wrestler.”
“How so?” Afton asked. That was the exact impression that she’d gotten from the hospital attack.
“You mean like a pro wrestler?” Max said.
“No, more like a high school wrestler,” Monica said. “Those kids with all the crazy, flailing arms and legs who try to pin their opponent. For the win, I guess.”
“We know this has all been very frightening for Ashley,” Afton said.
“She told me she’s been traumatized,” Monica said. She wrinkled her nose and made a face. “And that she felt repulsed.”
“Repulsed,” Afton repeated.
Monica lowered her voice slightly. “She said the man smelled horrible.”
Max’s brow wrinkled. “Was there anything about that in the report?”
Afton shook her head. “Not that I recall. Ashley never mentioned any sort of smell to us either.”
Monica waved a hand. “It was just something she mentioned to me in passing. A fleeting impression she had. It probably doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Mrs. Copeland,” Afton said. “It’s all important. Every tiny little detail is important.”
“What did Ashley think the boy smelled like?” Max asked. “Like . . . garlic breath or something? Bad BO?”
“No,” Monica said. “She said she thought he smelled like a dead animal.”
32
SHAKE shuffled into the kitchen in her stocking feet, opened the refrigerator, and stared with glassy eyes at their meager larder. All evening long she’d been having contractions. The pain would come in waves, first tight and twisting, and then bursting inside her as if someone had thrown an electrical switch in Hell. After a few minutes of agony, they would retreat to a dull ache. Like a bad, rotting toothache, only way deep down inside her.
Her hands shook as she reached out and grabbed a carton of milk. She hadn’t eaten a thing all day and now she was feeling nauseous. Maybe some milk would help. Or maybe, she thought, having this stupid baby would help.
She opened the carton and tipped it back, guzzling greedily from it. Wasn’t milk supposed to be nutritious for mothers-to-be? Sure it was. She thought it was.
Taking a step back, she felt something cool and wet trickle down her legs. She looked down at her chest stupidly, thinking she’d dribbled milk all over herself. But there was nothing on her T-shirt. Then what?
Shake finally noticed it. Not milk, but a clear liquid. Puddled on the gray linoleum floor right between her legs. Her eyes widened in surprise. This was what happened when you started to have a baby? Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Somebody help me!”
Shake’s piteous cries brought Marjorie pounding in from the living room. “What the hell are you—” She slid to a stop. Saw Shake standing there, looking down between her feet, with a terrified look on her face and said, “About time.”
“What’s happening?” Shake cried.
“Water broke,” Marjorie said. She took the milk carton out of Shake’s hands and shoved it back inside the refrigerator. “Ronnie!” Now it was her turn to scream. “Get in here and clean up this mess. Your girlfriend is about to have a baby.”
“It’s . . . uh . . . You mean now?” Shake babbled. “It’s started . . . now?” She was trembling so hard she didn’t seem to be able to hold her thoughts together.
“Yes, now,” Marjorie said. “When did you think it was going to happen? Next week? Next year?”
“Help me, please!” Shake implored. She stretched a hand out to the woman she feared the most. “We have to go . . . hospital.”
Marjorie shook her head. “You’re going to a private birthing center over in Pepin County. It’s all been arranged.”
Shake sank to her knees. “Hospital?” she pleaded in a small voice.
“This is cheaper.”
“Please,” Shake whimpered. “Don’t let it hurt.”
Marjorie gazed at her, and for the first time, a look of pity came across her face. “Oh, girlie, it’s gonna hurt. Having a baby always hurts.”
33
IN what felt like a serendipitous blip in the weather—in other words, a slightly milder temperature and no additional snow for the time being—Afton decided to take Tess and Poppy sledding.