F Wilson - Fatal Error

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. We need to discuss your future."

Dawn couldn't help blurting, "Gilda says you're kicking me out."

He looked troubled. "Oh, I wouldn't put it that way. You should look at it as being freed to live your life."

Then it was true. She was history here.

"Comes down to the same thing, doesn't it? I'm being put out on the street."

He smiled. "I'd hardly call being moved into a two-bedroom Upper West Side apartment 'on the street.' "

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you moving on. This episode of your life is past. It's time to start a new chapter. And moving on requires moving out."

She couldn't believe how totally devastated she felt. She'd so not wanted to stay and now she didn't want to leave. She'd grown used to the place. Out there was… uncertainty.

And Jerry Bethlehem… the baby's father… her Couldn't think about that.

Jerry was the reason Mr. Osala had hidden her away here, making her a virtual prisoner.

"What about Jerry?"

"Not a problem."

"You've been telling me all along I was safe from him as long as I was pregnant with the baby, and if I aborted it, he'd kill me. Well, guess what? The baby's dead-"

"And so is Jerry."

The words struck her like a blow, catapulting her to her feet.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I only recently found out."

"I don't believe you!"

He spread his hands. "Believe what you wish. I double and triple checked. Jerry died under a different, assumed name, so the news never reached me until a few days ago."

She eased herself back into the chair.

Jerry… dead. It seemed almost impossible.

"How did he die?"

"In a most mundane way: a motor vehicle accident. But no matter the manner, it's the result that counts. He's dead, and that means the threat to you has been eliminated. I promised your mother I would protect you from Jerry Bethlehem, and I have. I am free of my obligation and you are free to go."

Free… she'd thought she'd never be free. But where-?

"What did you say about an apartment?"

"I've found you a nice one and paid the rent in advance for six months. The lease will be up then, and you can decide to renew or find another place."

He might have given her a little warning. And he might have given her a little say in where she lived, but still…

"That's awfully generous."

"Money is not a problem. Your status with the law, however, is. You cannot move into your old home-"

She shook her head so violently it hurt. "No way. I couldn't."

Mom had been murdered there.

"Just as well. You remain a fugitive. Not that the police are actively pursuing you now, but you are, as they say, 'a person of interest' in your mother's death."

"Oh, God."

How could that be? How could they even think…?

"Your temporary accommodations will serve as a base from which you may begin to extricate yourself from your legal predicament."

"But what about-?"

"Money? When I found you, you had a quarter of a million dollars in cash in your car. I deposited that in a small, secure bank with conservative investment policies that insulated it from the vagaries of the financial markets. Your money is safe. In fact you have more now than when you arrived."

Dawn could only shake her head. "You… why have you done all this?"

He shrugged. "Why not?" He pulled a large manila envelope from the top drawer and slid it toward her across the desktop. "Here's a copy of the lease, the keys to the apartment, and a debit card linked to your account in the bank."

She stared at it, afraid to take it.

"I've… never been on my own."

He smiled. "You've got wings, but you'll never learn how to fly until you use them."

Oh, spare me, shot through her mind. The last thing she needed now were tired cliches. She was scared. But she kept her expression neutral.

"I guess so."

He rose. "Georges is waiting to take you to your new quarters. Your belongings have been moved in."

"Already?"

It was like he could so not wait to get her out of here. She knew she'd been something of a pain, but had she been that bad?

"Yes." He extended his hand across the desk. "Your life awaits. Good luck with it."

She pushed herself up from the seat. He was trying to make it sound inviting, yet she was totally scared out of her wits.

She shook his cool, dry hand. "Thank you."

She took the envelope, turned toward the door, then turned back. One more thing before she left…

"About the baby-"

"Yes, unfortunate."

"I don't believe he's dead."

He looked surprised. "What makes you think that?"

"They're not telling me the truth."

"Why should anyone lie about this?"

"Because he's abnormal."

She shuddered. Considering the identity of his father, maybe she should have been surprised if the baby had had no birth defects.

"Then all the more reason for its failure to survive."

"But why wouldn't they let me see him? Maybe they're keeping him to experiment on or something."

"Are you listening to yourself?"

Yeah, she knew it sounded totally crazy, but she couldn't get it out of her head that Dr. Landsman had been lying.

"I know."

"This is the baby you could not wait to be rid of. Well, now you have your wish. No one is lying to you. No one is experimenting on your baby. It died and you are unencumbered." He made a shooing motion. "Go. Georges is waiting for you."

Unencumbered… that was good, she guessed. She was so not ready for motherhood. But still… that baby had grown and kicked and turned and lived inside her… she'd gone through a lot of pain giving birth to him… perfectly natural to feel connected.

She stepped out into the hall and saw Georges waiting by the elevator. A large suitcase sat at his feet.

She gestured back down the hall toward her room. "I have a few things left-"

"All here," he said, pointing to the bag.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, he is sure," said Gilda's voice from behind her.

Dawn turned and saw her standing outside the room, grinning.

She must have swept through the room as soon as Dawn stepped into Mr. Osala's office.

She started toward Georges and the elevator. Scary as hell to be on her own, but better than spending another minute under the same roof with that old bitch.

Jack jumped at the sound of the buzzer.

He'd been listening to the thumping sounds from the van. A couple of times it rocked on its springs and he thought of the old bumper sticker, When the van is a-rockin', don't come a-knockin', but figured that was the last thing that might be happening. A couple times he'd approached and asked if everything was all right, and Barbara had told him it was.

The buzzer couldn't be Abe. He had a key. A quick peek through the peephole revealed Munir. Jack let him in.

"Is Barbara here?"

"Yeah, she-"

"Oh, no," he said, squeezing his eyes closed.

Uh-oh.

"You mean you didn't know?"

"Where is she?" he said, starting forward.

Jack pushed him back. "Wait-wait-wait. What's going on?"

"I told her about your call. She said she needed to stop at the apartment first, that I should wait with Robby until she got back. But she didn't come back and when I called her, her phone was turned off. And then I noticed the paper I'd written this address on was missing."

Oh, hell. Barbara had given the impression Munir had sent her.

"So you had no idea?"

"None. When I found the address missing, I knew where she was. I can't let her-"

One of the van's rear doors swung open and Barbara eased herself out. She looked pale, shaken. She wore latex gloves-bloody ones.

Munir ran to her and threw his arms around her. "Barbara! What-?"