A Breath After Drowning

“James said the same thing last night.”

“Well, maybe he’s right?”

Kate sighed. “People have been trying to convince me of Blackwood’s innocence for years, so I guess it makes sense that things would escalate shortly before the execution.”

“There you go,” Ira said. “How’s your new patient?”

“We’re making progress. I think Maddie’s stepfather may be abusing her.”

“Sexually?”

“No evidence of that. But perhaps verbal and physical abuse.”

“Have you confronted the patient about it?”

“So far she denies it.”

He frowned. “Have you talked to the stepfather?”

“Not yet. The Wards aren’t the easiest people to get a hold of. They don’t own cell phones apparently, just the landline, and half the time the answering machine doesn’t pick up. But I’m worried about Nelly Ward. She comes across as a battered wife.”

Ira took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, couple of things. First, we need to step carefully. As you know, the hospital has specific requirements when it comes to child abuse.”

“I’ll document everything.”

“Also, you need to meet the girl’s stepfather as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Once you’ve made an assessment, if you suspect there’s abuse in the home, we’ll get social services involved.”

Kate nodded. Ursula O’Keefe was their go-to gal at the hospital. She would do a little sleuthing on her own—public records, police reports, domestic disputes. If it turned out to be true, then Ursula would contact the Department of Human Services, and they would obtain a court order to remove the child from the home. Maddie would be placed with a foster family. Some kids blossomed away from toxic family environments; others didn’t fare as well. It was impossible to predict.

Kate frowned. “I’d like to take it slow, then.”

He nodded. “That would be my advice.”

“I want to make sure we do what’s best for Maddie, given the alternatives.”

“Agreed. Anything else?”

She hesitated, wondering if she should mention her observation about Maddie’s resemblance to Henry Blackwood. But it was only natural that Maddie would share some of her great-uncle’s genes. Perhaps the resemblance only went as far as that.

“Keep me in the loop. And, Kate.” Ira leaned forward. “Don’t let yourself get trapped in any more conversations about Blackwood’s innocence. Let justice take its course.”





28

THAT NIGHT, JAMES WAS on the phone with his mother’s doctors, discussing her treatment plan. Vanessa had undergone surgery and would be in a cast for several months. Instead of going back to work like he’d planned, James took the rest of the week off so that he could make arrangements for her recuperation and spend his days at Massachusetts General Hospital.

They went to bed late, and Kate wrapped her arms around James and held him close. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.” He frowned. “They say trouble comes in threes.”

“We’re fine. Just take care of your mother. She needs you.”

The following morning, Kate drove up to Wilamette to meet Maddie’s stepfather. She got there in record time and parked in the driveway behind Nelly’s navy blue Toyota Camry.

Nelly greeted her at the door with a disapproving scowl. In the clear morning light, her face looked slightly misshapen, as if she’d been someone’s punching bag for years.

“Is your husband here?” Kate asked.

“No.”

“When will he be back?”

“Tonight.”

“It’s important that I speak with him. Can I come in?”

“I guess.”

The kitchen was a mess. Kitschy collectibles cluttered every surface.

“Coffee?” Nelly offered.

“Thanks.”

Many of the ceramic pieces had been broken and glued back together, potential evidence of marital discord. Kate tried to feel some compassion for this woman. None of it was Nelly’s fault. Her dysfunction was a survival mechanism, an outgrowth of her defensiveness—as was Kate’s. But their respective tragedies had sent them rocketing in different directions.

What bothered Kate the most were Nelly’s choices regarding her daughter. Surely her instinct would’ve been to protect Maddie from abuse, given her own experiences. There were plenty of organizations and shelters to choose from. If it was true that her husband had verbally abused her and Maddie, perhaps even physically, Nelly could’ve fought harder to protect her child.

“Where’s your husband?” Kate asked.

“Pittsburgh,” Nelly said, bringing the coffee over to the table. “There was a delay or something. He won’t be home until later tonight.”

Kate frowned. “But I thought you said he was home? Has he gone back to work already?”

“Whatever.” Nelly brushed it off. She’d been caught in a lie but didn’t bother explaining herself. “He won’t be home until later tonight.”

Kate let it go. “When are you coming to the hospital?”

“Soon,” Nelly answered vaguely.

“Soon when?”

“I don’t know.” She puffed herself up with injured pride. “You have no right to look down your nose at me. You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re right,” Kate said stiffly. “I don’t. So enlighten me.”

“I love that little girl. I have all her baby clothes. Every drawing she ever did. Every scrap of homework. Every report card. I know all her likes and dislikes. She won’t eat a fleck of mayonnaise or ketchup. Just so you know.”

Kate would have to sort out what was going on inside the Ward household if she hoped to help Maddie at all. At the same time, she didn’t want to be unfair to these people. She was more than willing to listen to their side of the story before she made any moves that could potentially ruin their lives. But they were running out of time.

She decided to go for it. “Does your husband beat you?”

“Does he what?”

“Beat you?”

“No!”

Kate detected fear and evasiveness in Nelly’s eyes, the slipperiness of deceit.

“Derrick wouldn’t lay a hand on me.”

“Look,” Kate said with resignation, “it’s important that you tell me the truth, because I’m going to have to make some decisions that will affect your entire family, and I need to hear your side of the story.”

Nelly took a cigarette out of the pack on the table and rasped, “Are you asking me if my husband beats the living shit out of me? The answer is no. He’s a good provider. A good father. Are you asking me does he hit Maddie? The answer is never. He wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Maddie harms herself.”

“So your husband doesn’t beat you or Maddie?”

“I’ve had three.” She lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply.

“Excuse me?”

“Three husbands.” Nelly gave a snort of derision. “The first one beat me up pretty regular. Are you gonna arrest him? Good luck finding him.”

“I didn’t realize…”

“I had a difficult childhood. Some people never get over it. I thought that I could. Then I married that bastard. He seemed okay at first. He came across as charming. But as the months went by, it dawned on me what a bully he was. And I paid dearly for my mistake. So I divorced him and married my second husband. He was a charmer, too. Real nice guy. But guess what? Same damn thing. I swear, I must have the word ‘victim’ stamped on my forehead. Doormat—step all over me.” She rubbed her brow and laughed. “Boy oh boy, he wasn’t subtle at all. First it was a love punch. Then a wrestling match. And you figure—he’s just goofing around, right? But then he hits you. And it becomes deadly serious. It ain’t so funny anymore. And before you know it, you’re in over your head.”

“Did any of your husbands ever hurt Maddie?”

“The first one left when she was six months old. He didn’t get a chance to hurt her, unless you count the times he punched me in the stomach when I was pregnant.”

Kate winced. Those counted.

“My second husband wouldn’t have nothing to do with Maddie. He barely acknowledged her existence. And now I’ve got this one here—Derrick. A good man with a good job. He loves her like a real daddy. But you know… turns out there are different kinds of bastards.”

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