Anne could hear the sounds of a loud TV sports show playing inside as Tom knocked on the door.
“Whadya want?” a gruff, irritated male voice called over the noise.
“Benny, I’d like to talk to you,” Tom called back.
“Yeah, and who are you?” Benny demanded.
“Father Tom Christen.”
The TV sports show was abruptly muted. A moment later the door swung wide.
A young man no more than twenty stood facing them. He was well over six feet tall, dark, hairy and husky, wearing a stained T-shirt, dirty jeans and smelling of beer. Even several days’ stubble could not hide the thick, ugly scar that puckered the flesh on his right cheek.
But it was his eyes that caught Anne’s immediate attention. They were coal-black, furious, frightening. And staring directly at Tom.
“You no-good bastard!” Benny yelled.
Then the angry young man threw a punch right at Tom’s face.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
T
OM
SAW
THE
punch coming and pulled Anne with him as he smoothly stepped aside. Benny’s fist connected with nothing but air. Tom swiftly grabbed Benny’s arm, twisted it behind his back, spun him around and pitched him headfirst onto cushions that lined the floor a few feet into the room.
Benny crumpled on top of them with a groan.
Two other guys in the room immediately charged Tom. They were around the same age as Benny, the first one dark and wiry, the second one red-haired and bulkier than Benny.
Tom used the force of their combined momentum to hurl them out the door and face-first into the freshly fertilized flower bed. The wiry one smashed his shoulder against a wooden stake and let out a yelp before he took off running. The redheaded one landed hard and rolled over, spitting manure out of his mouth. He shot Tom a scared look before he scurried to his feet and sprinted off down the drive after his companion.
Calmly turning to Anne, Tom asked, “Would you care to wait in the car?”
Anne’s eyes shone with surprise and admiration. “And miss more of this? Not on your life,” she said, stepping into the room.
Tom hid his smile as he followed her inside and closed the door behind them, locking it securely. He surveyed the interior of the converted garage. It was just one big room, the only other door leading to a bathroom at the end. An area had been sectioned off to serve as a kitchen, and contained a microwave, refrigerator and hot plate. Another area contained a bed and nightstand.
Empty pizza cartons and beer cans littered the coffee table and floor. The cushions of the only couch in the room had been tossed on the floor in front of the TV. Those were the cushions Benny was sprawled over.
When Tom leaned down to switch off the muted TV, he saw the newspaper next to the cushions. Its headline read Boston Runaway Found Dead in the Berkshires, and Lindy’s picture was beneath it.
He gestured to Anne to take one of the two straight-back kitchen chairs. She nodded as she sat, settling Tommy on her lap.
Tom remained standing over Benny, waiting for him to get up. It was another minute before the young man rolled over and made it to his knees. He raised his head and stared up at Tom.
“Where’s Spike and Hank?” Benny demanded.
“If you mean your friends, they seem to have remembered a previous engagement,” Tom said. “I don’t imagine they’ll be back anytime soon. You want to tell me why you think you have a right to take a swing at me?”
“She’s dead because of you,” Benny said, spitting out the words.
Tom didn’t have to ask whom he meant. “Why don’t you tell me how you knew Lindy.”
“Go to hell.”
Benny tried to get up and wobbled. Tom took his arm to steady him and brought him the rest of the way to his feet.
“You’re not the only one who cared about her,” Tom said quietly.
Benny stood staring at him for a long moment as though trying to make up his mind whether to believe him. Finally, Benny shrugged and gestured in Anne’s direction. “Who’s she?”
“My wife,” Tom said.
Surprise hopped into Benny’s eyes as he turned to stare at the rings on Anne’s left finger. “Lindy never told me you were married.”
“What did she tell you, Benny?”
The youth snorted and shook his head. “Never enough.” He plopped down on the cushions he’d just gotten up from and let out a long breath.
“I’d like to hear about it,” Tom said.
Benny grabbed a can of beer that sat on the floor next to him. He chugged what was left in it, then crushed the can with his bare hands and tossed it back on the concrete floor. “Why not?” he said, as though to himself. “What does it matter anymore?”
Tom slipped onto the chair across from Anne, no longer concerned that Benny might try to slug him. Whatever fight was in the young man had gone.
“You met Lindy while you were tending the grounds at the Shrubber place,” Tom guessed.
“Yeah,” Benny said. “The other girls would take one look at this sorry face of mine and cringe. But not Lindy. ‘Course, she was careful when she talked to me. Always waited until that battle-ax of a nurse had gone inside.”
“The one who acts like a warden,” Tom said, remembering Vi Fransen’s words.
“Old fat-face Ronley,” Benny said, nodding. “She told all the girls to stay away from me. But Lindy ignored her. Even asked me if she could help. I was trying to right this sapling that had blown down in a storm. Lindy held it for me while I drove a new brace into the ground.”
“When was this, Benny?” Tom asked.
“Must’ve been six months ago now. Lindy was pretty pregnant by then. But on her it looked good ’cause she was happy about it. Not like some of the others, who were only doing it for the money.”
“Money?” Anne repeated.
Benny looked over at her. “You don’t know?”
“Why don’t you tell us about it, Benny?” Tom suggested.
“Them runaways,” Benny said, still looking at Anne. “They get pregnant for the money Butz promises them for their babies.”
“They’re not already pregnant?” Anne asked.
“Nope. Least ways not most of ‘em. Couple hit town that way. But Butz prefers the young ones who aren’t already knocked up. He normally can’t interest the prostitutes. They don’t need the money.”
“So Butz is out looking for runaways,” Tom asked.
“All the time,” Benny said. “It’s the runaways that need the money.”
“But you said Lindy didn’t do it for money,” Anne prompted.
“No, she had other reasons.” Benny paused to glare at Tom. “When Butz approached her, she told him she’d get pregnant, no problem, as long as she could pick the father.”
“Who normally fathers the children of the runaways?” Anne asked.
“Lindy never said.”
“Was Lindy living on the streets when Butz approached her with his proposition?” Tom asked.
“You know she was,” Benny said sulkily. “It was right after you shut her out.”
“How exactly did I shut her out?”
“She was in love with you, man.” Anger laced Benny’s words. “Would’ve done anything for you. And you turned your back on her.”
“I couldn’t love Lindy the way she wanted me to, Benny,” Tom said calmly. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t try to do my best for her.”
Benny looked down at the picture of Lindy in the newspaper. “It wasn’t enough, preacher.”
“You’re right, Benny,” Tom agreed softly. “It wasn’t enough.”
Benny’s head came up at Tom’s words and he looked into his face. What Benny read there took the last vestiges of anger out of his eyes.
“How much money is Shrubber paying the girls?” Anne asked after a moment.
Benny looked over at her when he answered. “Lindy said two thousand cash apiece. ‘Course, they get nine months of free room and board and all the doctoring stuff to go with it. As soon as they’re knocked up, Shrubber insists on ’em being confined to that old house of his with that witch of a nurse. She lives with ’em twenty-four hours a day.”
“Why is that?” Tom asked.
“Shrubber has ’em tested first, makes sure they’re clean of drugs and disease. That’s why Butz tries to get the young ones who’ve just hit town and haven’t gotten into the drug scene. Shrubber tells ’em part of the deal is that they have to stay clean until they deliver.”
“So the nurse is there to keep them away from drugs,” Anne said.
“And sex. Lindy always had to sneak away from the nurse to talk to me. They make sure the girls don’t get around any guys so they don’t catch nothin’. Not that she and I did anything but talk.”
“Do the girls know where their babies are going?” Anne asked.
“Infertile couples,” Benny said. “Each girl is given a name she’s supposed to use when it comes time for her to deliver. It’s just in case some nosy hospital staff ask. But the doc always takes that Ronley nurse along to the delivery room to avoid as much contact with regular hospital staff as he can.”
“What happens to the girls after they deliver?” Tom asked.
“Shrubber takes their babies, pays ’em their money and has Butz dump ’em back on the streets.”
“But Lindy sneaked out of the hospital with her baby before they could take him,” Anne said.
“Yeah. Planned it that way from the first. Lindy wasn’t like them other girls, all broke and scared and willing to do almost anything for some cash. She had money she never told Butz or Shrubber about.” Benny flashed Tom a look. “Told me she earned it working for you.”
“She did,” Tom said. “So how did she arrange to get away from the hospital?”
“She wanted to buy the old Beetle that my uncle gave me for my birthday,” Benny said. “Offered me a hundred more than it was worth. All I had to do was park it down the street from the hospital when she went to deliver.”
“Is that what you did?” Tom asked.
“No way,” Benny said. “She’d only driven a couple of times, and never a stick shift. I wasn’t going to let her get behind the wheel, especially after just having a baby.”
“You were a good friend,” Anne said.
Benny looked over at her and shrugged.
“So you waited for her in the VW,” Tom guessed.
“Nearly ten hours,” Benny admitted. “It was January and the snow was a foot high. I nearly froze my butt off. Then suddenly there she was, coming down the street toward me, wearing only a hospital gown and slippers and carrying the baby. I got her into the car as fast as I could and we lit out of there.”
“Where did you go?” Tom asked.
“Here,” Benny said. “Had no place else. After she rested up a couple of days, she asked me to drive her over to see you at the parish. She wanted to show you the baby. I think she thought that when you saw him you’d...well, you’d marry her and everything would be all right. Only when we got there, the rector said Lindy’s call to the bishop had ended up driving you out of the parish. And he wouldn’t tell Lindy where you had gone.”
“How did Lindy react to the news?” Anne inquired quietly.
“It bummed her out at first,” Benny said. “Then, after a few days, she seemed to be okay again. Asked me to teach her to drive. Said she wanted to take me to work and pick me up afterward. Said that would give her a chance to do the grocery shopping for us and not leave everything to me. I was happy to teach her. I thought that meant... I hoped she might be thinking of staying around awhile.”
“You were in love with her, Benny?” Anne’s voice was very gentle as she asked the question.
The bleak look on Benny’s face was answer enough. “I bought curtains for the windows, even got her a box of chocolates. But when I tried to kiss her, she pushed me away. Stupid to think a pretty girl like Lindy could ever love a face like this.”
Benny paused and looked down at his hands. “She didn’t pick me up after work the next day. I wasn’t surprised when I got home and found she and the car were gone.”
“Did you try to find her?” Tom asked.
“No point,” Benny said as he raised his eyes to him. “I knew she’d be searching for you. It was always you.”
“You never heard from her again?” Anne asked.
“No, but Butz paid me a call a couple of days later.”
“He came here?” Tom asked.
“Yeah,” Benny said. “Busted in my door. Demanded to know where Lindy and the baby were. Someone at the house must’ve seen me talking to Lindy and blabbed. But I knew Butz couldn’t have really known anything, otherwise he would have come by a lot sooner. Anyway, he knocked me around a bit trying to get me to talk. When I kept telling him he was crazy and I didn’t know anything about Lindy or a baby, he finally gave up and left.”
“Yet Shrubber still got you fired,” Tom said.
“The bastard told my boss I was coming on to his daughters. What a crock, pretending those runaways were his daughters.”
Benny looked at Anne and the baby. “That’s Lindy’s baby, isn’t it?” he said.
Tom saw the frown on Anne’s face.
“What makes you think so?” she asked.
“Got the same coloring and all. ‘Course, he’s bigger now. And he’s awake and looking around. All he did when he was here was eat, sleep, pee or poop. But what the hell. I didn’t complain. He was her kid. And he made her happy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. Just make her happy.”
And Tom believed it because he saw the misery in Benny’s eyes.
* * *
“T
OM
, I
HAVE
TO
talk to you,” Anne said as they sat across from each other that night at his Boston home. They had fed the baby and just finished a dinner of beef stew and biscuits from the supplies that Connie and the women of the parish had provided.
Tom knew that Anne was troubled. She had barely said two words since they’d left Benny’s house three hours before. And she was looking at Tommy sleeping in her lap with a frown on her face. She never frowned when she looked at Tommy.
“What is it, Anne?” he asked, bracing himself.
“I want to tell Pat—no, I
have
to tell Pat about what Shrubber and Butz are up to with those runaway girls.”
“When do you plan to do this?” he asked.
“I have to do it soon,” Anne said. “The thing is, I don’t have the answers to some questions she’s bound to ask.”
“Such as?”
“I know you told me you didn’t impregnate Lindy,” Anne continued, her eyes still on Tommy as she gently stroked his cheek, the frown digging a dent between her eyebrows. “And I believe you. But from everything we’ve learned so far, it just seems...”
“It seems what, Anne?” Tom prompted.
“The nurse’s aide at the hospital said that Lindy had a blond-haired, blue-eyed baby that Lindy claimed looked just like his father. Rolan Kendrall sure couldn’t have been the dad, since he has black hair and eyes. And Lindy obviously told Benny it was you. Benny also recognized Tommy as being the baby Lindy brought home from the hospital.”
Tom waited for what he knew Anne was going to ask.
Finally, her eyes rose from the baby’s face to his. “Where is Lindy’s child and how did she get Tommy?”
“Anne, I cannot talk about this.”
She sighed. “I was afraid that was what you were going to say.”
“You know I will tell you whatever I can.”