“Mommy, it’s not nice to say you hate cops,” Erin’s five-year-old son, Jack, mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. “Cops are the good guys.”
Good guys? One of those good guys had raised her, teaching her all she needed to know about secrets, pain and loss. And Jack’s dad had been one of those “good guys,” too. But it didn’t stop him from hightailing it out of their lives when Jack was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. No, thank you very much. She’d had enough of those “good guys” to last a lifetime.
“You’ve packed so much cereal in your mouth that the pressure has clogged up your ears, little man. Mommy said she ran into some ‘great cops.’” She kissed her son’s forehead and ruffled his hair. “Besides, what did I tell you about talking with food in your mouth?”
“Oh-kay.” Jack gulped and swallowed his last bite. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Erin was daydreaming about a day off and almost didn’t hear her son. A day of rest. Puttering around in her garden. Reading a book from her growing to-be-read pile. Maybe even sneaking in a bubble bath. The temptation to indulge herself brought a smile to her lips.
“Now, Jack, I think your mother might be a bit tuckered out.” Tess patted his hand. “Why don’t you and I have a picnic in the backyard and let your mother get some rest.”
Jack turned to face her, his eyes wide. “But, Mommy, you promised.”
The urgency in his voice snagged her attention. She blinked and just looked at him while her brain scrambled to get out of daydream mode and process what he said. She remembered now. They’d been planning to attend the annual Wish for the Stars fundraiser and today was the big day.
This year it coincided with the upcoming Easter holiday. Carol Henderson, her best friend and member of the planning committee, told them the opening ceremony included a parade led by the Easter Bunny and more than five thousand eggs hidden away for the hunt. Later, there’d be music, hot dogs, hamburgers, soda and chips. All for a nominal price of admission.
Jack grew more excited as the day approached. His excitement must have stemmed from the thought of having a whole afternoon to play with Amy, Carol’s daughter. Best of friends just like their moms, they had fewer play dates due to crazy work schedules now that the hospital was transitioning to the new building.
Or maybe he was excited because he loved picnics.
Either way, Erin had to admit she was looking forward to the event herself. She’d been antsy lately. Feeling unsettled. Wary. And not sure why. Probably because winter had clung longer than normal to Florida this year.
Or maybe she felt unsettled because she hadn’t been sleeping well lately because of prank calls throughout the night.
Erin’s gaze fell upon the small walker beside her son’s chair and her heart clenched. No matter how tired she was or how inviting a relaxing day at home might be she knew she couldn’t let her son down. After all, asking to go on an Easter egg hunt wasn’t unreasonable. She glanced at her watch. If they hurried, they’d be just in time for the parade.
“Finish your milk and we’ll go,” Erin said.
Jack reached for his glass and knocked it over.
Erin grabbed a dish towel and started to sop up the liquid.
“I’ll get Jack changed,” Tess said.
Erin nodded. “Thanks, Tess. Don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Never mind that,” she said, but blushed beneath the compliment. She shooed Jack toward the bedroom.
Erin glanced at the empty doorway and thought about how lucky she was that Tess had moved in to help after Erin’s father, Tess’s brother, had died. It had taken years for her father and Erin to reconcile but she had been devastated when he was killed. She didn’t think she would have made it through without Tess and her newfound faith to comfort her.
The phone rang.
Lost in thought, the trilling sound startled her. It rang a second time. She stood perfectly still, staring at the instrument like it was a dagger poised to strike. Please, God, not another one.
She hugged her arms to her body. Uneasiness crept up her spine. She was surprised she was letting a few anonymous telephone calls make her this jittery. It had to be that boy down the street. He had harassed the neighborhood for days last year until his father discovered what he was doing. He was probably up to his old tricks. She needed to get a hold of herself. And she needed to go have a chat with the boy’s dad.
Erin grabbed the phone on the fourth ring.
“Hello.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
No reply. She’d answered at least a dozen calls over the past three days, half of them waking her in the middle of the night.
“I know you’re there.” Erin pressed the phone tightly against her ear. Straining to hear something. Anything. The breathing grew heavier, but still, no one spoke.
“Quit calling here or I’m going to call the police.” She slammed the phone in the cradle. Yep, it had to be a bored teenager playing a prank. Absently rubbing her arms, she continued to stare at the instrument. But it didn’t feel like a prank. She didn’t hear muffled giggles on the end of the line. She heard—She didn’t know what she heard. She only knew that her instincts blared an inner warning that something was wrong and she had learned through the school of hard knocks to trust those instincts.
“Ready, Mom?” Jack rolled his walker across the room and grinned up at her, wearing his favorite green-striped shirt with the dinosaur logo and a pair of jeans.
Shaking off her anxiety as the result of lack of sleep, she leaned down and hugged him. “You bet. Let’s go.”
Less than an hour later, while they waited by the side of the parade route, Erin’s sense of uneasiness returned. Crazy as it was, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them. Goose bumps shivered along her arms. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes roamed the crowd. Children and adults formed two lines up and down the parade route. Some of the parents had brought folding chairs. Others stood. Children sat cross-legged in the grass. A young couple chased a laughing toddler bent on escape.
Nothing sinister. Nothing ominous. Why couldn’t she shake this feeling?
Erin recognized many of her coworkers from the hospital. She couldn’t identify everyone by name, but she’d passed them in the halls or had ridden with them on an elevator. She waved to the ones she did know and nodded to others. It seemed like half the hospital staff came. Dr. Clark and his family. Shelley from the cafeteria crew. Mr. Peters from housekeeping. Even Lenny, the lab tech, had come. But that was no big surprise. The hospital cosponsored the event and all personnel had been encouraged to buy a ticket.
She turned her head and her eyes lit on her friend. She waved for Carol to join them. Erin banished her anxiety when Carol elbowed her way through the crowd and stood beside her.
“Can you believe this?” Carol asked. “I knew we’d have a crowd, but this is twice as many people as I expected. Times are tough. Money is tight, but it didn’t stop folks from reaching into their wallets to buy a ticket for a good cause, did it?”
Carol scooped Amy up into her arms. The child’s soft blond curls framed a little round face which held a smiling mouth and the slightly slanted eyes of a three-year-old Down syndrome child.
“You’ve done a great job, Carol.”
“Not just me. The committee worked hard and it looks like it paid off.” Music began playing and the excitement of the crowd became palpable. The sound of children’s laughter and yells of excitement tinkled in the air like wind chimes.
“The parade’s about to begin. Look,” Carol said, pointing to her right. “Here comes the Easter Bunny.”