“Um, Erik,” Michelle interrupted his reverie. “I want to thank you for the money you gave to the youth center. We’re hoping to build a new one with state of the art everything. Your contribution will go a long way. Thanks.”
“You’re quite welcome, Michelle.” She was so altruistic, warm and sweet. Most women her age didn’t do charitable deeds. They were too immersed in their own lives and careers to care about people less fortunate than themselves. If, and when they gave, it was usually money. Time was too precious.
Those inner city kids needed more than money. They needed someone to spend time with them, someone to show they cared. That’s why Michelle had been so hard on him about spending time with Precious. He was grateful for her insightfulness, her concern for his child.
“I know there’s a world outside the one I live in,” Erik said, smiling at her. “A world in which you survived and became this incredible, loving woman whom I admire greatly. I just felt that if I could help in some small way to produce more like you, I would have done a great thing. The most amazing of all, is how wonderful you are with my daughter.”
Her eyes brightened with warmth. “Precious is an exceptional kid, the kind I’d like to have one day when I meet the right man.”
“How many do you want?”
“About seven or so, and I want a house with a white picket fence and a big backyard for them to play in.”
Erik smiled. “Cassie and I wanted more children.”
“Why didn’t you have more?”
Erik sighed and rubbed his palms up and down his thighs. “God knows it wasn’t for a lack of trying. She just never got pregnant again. I guess her body said one was enough.” He chuckled. “When Precious was born, she took one look at her and said, ‘Oh, Erik, she’s precious.’ That’s how Precious got her name.”
“It suits her. How did she get her nickname?”
He chuckled. “Cassie, again. When she was pregnant with Precious, she used to say she was baking a little muffin in the oven.”
“Well, she is a precious little muffin. I hope all my little girls are just like her. But that won’t happen for a long time. At least, five years. Remember, I signed a contract.”
Erik nodded. “Yeah, that contract.” Best thing he ever did. It gave him ample time to find his wife’s killer and the truth behind their last argument. Which brought him to the reason he wanted to talk to Michelle. “I’ve reopened Cassie’s case,” he said.
Michelle held her breath. “Oh. Any particular reason?”
“I need closure. There were fingerprints in that car. I need to match them to their owner.”
Michelle looked away then moved restlessly on the chair. “Didn’t the police already try matching them with the ones in their data base?” She hoped her anxiety wasn’t evident in her voice.
“Yes, but there was no match, obviously. New prints are added daily. Hopefully, the drunk was picked up for something else since we closed the case. But just in case the police still can’t find a match from their pool, I’ll be providing them new ones as often as possible.”
Doubts and fears clouded Michelle’s mind. She crossed her fingers.
God, please don’t let those prints match my father’s
. She couldn’t bear the thought of her father causing such pain to two people she’d started to care so much about. Not to mention how Erik would feel about her. All the wonderful things he’d just said wouldn’t mean squat if her biggest fears came to life.
Her gaze followed Erik as he moved over to the window and gazed out with his back to her. She knew this must be hard for him. The investigation would take him back to that night and the months of pain that followed it. She also knew that it couldn’t have been her father who’d committed that ghastly crime. Cassie LaCrosse was killed months after her father disappeared. He wasn’t in Manchester, maybe not even in New Hampshire at the time. She’d already lost her job and moved to South Carolina with Ryan when it happened. That’s why she hadn’t known about the tragedy until Erik told her. It was a cold case by the time she moved back home. Michelle wondered if she would have taken that interview if she’d known that a drunk driver who hadn’t been caught yet had killed her potential employer’s wife. “How are you going to provide finger prints?” she asked Erik.
He turned and leaned a shoulder against the pane. “I’ll walk the streets of Manchester, myself. I’ll talk to people and take the name of every crack head and drunk out there. I’ll offer them coffee, sodas, food, whatever they want, and when I walk away, I will have the containers with their prints on them. Those I will turn over to the police.”
“Is that why you’ll be coming home late tonight?”
“Yes. I’m meeting with the city detective to recount the details of the case.”
Michelle glanced around the barely furnished office. It was nothing compared to the elaborately decorated study in his home. There was a huge desk with a laptop on it, a couple chairs, a bookcase, and several diplomas and certifications from Harvard Medical School tacked to the wall. The man was a doctor, not a detective nor a street thug, and he shouldn’t be running about in the city alone at nights. She’d grown up in the place and she never went out at night if she didn’t have to.
Michelle rose and strolled over to him. “The back alleys of Manchester are not places you should walk at night, Erik. You can be putting yourself in real danger.”
“I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“Maybe I should come with you. I know the streets. I know the people.”
“I’ve hired a P.I to work with me.” He touched a finger to her cheek. “I won’t think about putting you in danger. You stay home and take care of Precious. She needs you.”
“She needs you, too.”
And I need you
. Michelle’s heart went out to him. She wanted to hold him and comfort him, tell him that everything would work out just fine. That he’d be able to put all this behind him soon.
But the last time she’d tried, they’d ended up locked in a passionate kiss. The last thing she wanted was to seem as desperate as Dr. Ashley. All she could do was pray for his safety. He had to be safe for Precious, and for her.
***
“Michelle! Michelle!”
The screams jarred Michelle from the depths of a deep, pain-free sleep. Immediately realizing that they were coming from Precious’ bedroom, she bolted out of bed and ran next door. She rushed over to the sixty-gallon tank where Precious was standing with tears streaming down her face. Michelle dropped on her knees beside her. “Precious, what’s wrong?”
“Charlie’s choking on a rock.”
Michelle’s eyes followed her finger to the far side of the tank where the goldfish was struggling with a green rock fastened between its gills. Michelle had no idea what to do. Goldfish weren’t her specialty. A bruised knee she could patch, a runny nose she could wipe. What do you do with a goldfish with a rock stuck in its throat?
“Do something, Michelle!” Precious was in hysterics.
“Precious, I don't know what to do.” She felt sorry for the fish and anguish over the fear in Precious’ eyes. The child loved her fish just as if they were her siblings.
“He’s going to die...” Precious collapsed on the floor and broke into a storm of heart-rending sobs.
Michelle looked at the fish that was staring back through the glass with bulging eyes, as if begging her to save him. “Oh, Charlie,” she groaned, pushing to her feet. She pulled the cover from the tank and stuck her hand in the cool water. She tried to grab the fish, having no idea what she would do if she caught it. But he kept avoiding her and whirled around the tank.
“Hurry, Michelle!” Precious was on her feet again.
“I’m trying.” Michelle remembered hearing that fish could die from too much stress. She could see it happening. It wasn’t just Charlie she had to worry about, either. Sippy had also started to swim about in an agitated state.
She pulled her hand out of the water to give them time to calm down. Charlie swam behind an artificial plant. Sippy took refuge in a log.
“Why aren’t you helping?” Precious dropped to the floor again.
Michelle noticed the fishnet on the stand next to the tank. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She grabbed the net and plunged it into the water, this time hoping to capture the fish in the net and somehow squeeze the rock from its grasp. “Come on, little fellow.”
Charlie swam up to the top and in his haste to avoid being caught in the net, catapulted through the water and bumped his head on the side of the tank. The rock dislodged from his gills and floated to the bottom of the tank. A frightened Charlie swam into the giant log alongside Sippy.
Michelle exhaled a sigh of relief. “He’s fine, Precious. Come see.” She picked the whimpering child up from the floor and held her so she could look into the aquarium.
Precious smiled when she saw both fish were okay. “He almost died.”
“But he didn’t. He’s okay. Maybe now they’ll stop munching on the stupid rocks.”
“Daddy says they suck on the rock to get algae because it’s nutritious for them.”
Michelle couldn’t voice her thoughts about folks always trying to grab things they thought were good for them and choking in the process, but still grabbing anyway. Precious wouldn’t understand. She set her down and added some stress-guard to the water.
Precious began calling at them, hoping to entice them from their hiding place. Michelle added a few flakes of food hoping to help lure them out. The fish stayed where they were.
“They’re probably tired,” she said, replacing the cover on the aquarium. “They’ll be back to their old selves tomorrow.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door.
When she came out, Precious was still at the tank. Michelle would have liked to give her all the time she wanted, but her cramps were coming back. She needed to lie down.
“Precious, it’s time you get back to bed.”
“I have to use the bathroom. That’s why I woke up, and that’s when I saw Charlie was choking.”
“Okay. Hurry up.”
Michelle slumped down on the window seat and rubbed her hand across her belly, willing the pills she’d just taken to work their wonderful magic. She looked up as Precious emerged from the bathroom, closed the door, and rushed back to the aquarium to check on her fish. Michelle struggled to her feet. “Bed, Precious.”
Precious reluctantly said good night to her fish. Michelle got her settled in then sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her damp curls from her face.
“If Charlie had died, would he have gone to heaven with Mommy?”
Michelle briefly transferred her gaze to the photo of a very pregnant Cassie LaCrosse in the picture frame on the nightstand. She was standing on the porch of a summer cottage, and seemed one with the blue open ocean behind her. “I’m sure, honey,” Michelle said, smiling at the little girl. “But he didn’t die. He’s fine now, and probably will be sucking on the rocks again tomorrow. We just have to keep an extra eye on him.”
Precious giggled. “That’s what Mommy used to say. But we don’t have extra eyes.”
We do now
, Michelle thought to herself as she glanced at the picture of Cassie again. She was sure Cassie was watching over her daughter, just as she was sure her own mother had been keeping a watchful eye on her throughout her life. She just wondered where she’d been the night her father walked into her apartment and destroyed her life. She must have blinked.
“Night, Precious,” Michelle said as another cramp ripped across her stomach. She started to rise from the bed.
Precious grabbed her hand. “Don’t leave, Michelle. Please stay with me.”
She didn’t want to be kicked in the stomach tonight. And knowing that Erik always came in to check on his daughter when he came home late, she couldn’t risk being caught asleep in his daughter’s bed. He wasn’t home, yet. “I can’t, Precious.”
“Pleeease...”
Michelle softened when she gazed at the pitiful face. “Okay, just until you fall asleep.” She shooed Precious over, eased under the covers, and turned off the bedside lamp. Moonlight slivered in through the open window.
Precious fitted her body into the curve of Michelle’s, and settled down.
Michelle wrapped her arms across the small body, welcoming the feel of the warm bundle in her arms. Actually, the warmth from Precious’ body was a healing balm for her aching belly. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes.
“Michelle?”
“What?”
“I miss my mommy.”
“I know.”
“Do you have a mommy?”
“No. She died a long time ago.”
“Is she in heaven with my mommy?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Go to sleep, Precious.”
A tired sigh echoed in the darkness.
“Good night, Michelle.”
“Good night, Precious.”
“I love you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Have you spoken with Dad since you returned from your cruise?” Erik asked his mother as they sat in the living room of her condo. The television hummed in the background, but neither paid it any attention.
“We spoke today. He took Danielle home a few days ago.”
Erik leaned back in the recliner and eyed her through half-closed lids. He loved his parents, all three of them, but he would forever remain in a state of bafflement over their unorthodox relationship and the circumstances surrounding his birth. It had caused him much pain and ridicule throughout his childhood.
“When was the last time you saw her?” his mother asked.
“I drove up last week when she was hospitalized. I can’t believe how much she’d deteriorated in such a short time. She used to be so vibrant.”
“It’s difficult for your father to watch her on a daily basis. He says there are days when she’s lucid and others when she doesn’t even know her own name. At least she’s home, in a place that’s familiar to her.”
Erik pushed out of the chair, strolled across the room and stared thoughtfully at a picture of his and Cassie’s wedding sitting on a grand piano. He pressed his fingertips into his temples as their last moments together surfaced in his mind. “I don’t know which is worse, Mother, having someone you love die tragically in your arms, or watching them fade away slowly and painfully and not being able to do a darn thing about it.”