Broken Promise: A Thriller

Sixty-two

“A good thing,” Sarita Gomez repeated, sitting in the car next to me. “I wanted to do what was right.”

The black car behind us was still honking and flashing its lights.

“Explain that,” I said, holding my speed, debating whether to pull over.

“I wanted to return Matthew to his real mother,” she said.

I glanced over at her. Not once, but twice. “Marla’s baby didn’t die.”

Sarita nodded. “I’m pretty sure. I knew Ms. Gaynor had never been pregnant, that they had adopted Matthew. She couldn’t breast-feed; she never went through all the things a woman goes through. But she didn’t want people to know. She wanted them to think she’d been pregnant. The last couple of months before they got Matthew she spent in Boston so the neighbors wouldn’t think something funny was going on. They’d never see that she was never actually pregnant.”

“Rosemary told you all this?”

“Not exactly. Bits and pieces came out. I was there so much, I figured out what had happened. Dr. Sturgess, he’d come over a lot and talk to Mr. Gaynor and I heard things. And I knew from my friends at the hospital that your cousin... her baby died around the same time that the Gaynors had Matthew. One time — they didn’t know I was there — I heard them talking about when she tried to steal the baby from the hospital, the doctor saying he couldn’t have predicted something like that happening. That’s when I knew what they’d done. That Ms. Gaynor’s baby was really your cousin’s baby.”

“But...” I was trying to get my head around this. “But Marla didn’t have a son. She had a girl.”

“They lied to her,” Sarita said. “You wrap up a baby, how are you going to know one way or the other? I think they told her it was a girl just to make everything very different. Does that make sense?”

“None of this makes any sense. I mean, Marla told me she held the baby. That it was dead.”

Sarita looked at me blankly. “I can’t explain that.”

The car was still honking. Sarita shifted in her seat, looked back. “That is Mr. Gaynor. That is his car. And I’m pretty sure that’s the doctor next to him.”

“Why the hell are they following us?”

“They must be looking for me.”

When had they spotted us? At the bus station?

“I’ve got a few questions for both of them,” I said, putting on my blinker, easing my foot off the gas.

“Wait,” Sarita said.

“What?” I hadn’t put my foot on the brake yet, but as the car slowed, Gaynor stopped honking his horn.

“Where is Marshall?”

“Your boyfriend?”

“He was going to meet Mr. Gaynor. He was going to get him to pay money. And there is Mr. Gaynor, but I don’t know what has happened to Marshall.”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling.”

“Sarita, nothing’s going to happen. We’re right out in the open here. With what you’ve told me, I’ve got a few questions for both of those assholes. I want answers.”

Now I put my foot on the brake, steered the car over to the shoulder. It was then that I realized we were on the back side of the decommissioned Five Mountains amusement park. Alongside the road was about sixty feet of tall grass, then a perimeter fence. I noticed that just up from where we were, a section of fence had been cut, the chain link pried back.

I shifted my eyes to the mirror, watched Gaynor steer his black Audi over to the shoulder and park a couple of car lengths behind me. I felt like I was getting a speeding ticket.

The passenger door opened.

Sarita was right. It was Dr. Sturgess getting out.

“I don’t get it,” I said to Sarita. “How would they pull it off? I mean, the paperwork alone. How do you—”

Sarita cut me off. “He is a doctor. And rich, and white. He could fake it all. Death certificates, birth certificates, all of it. Who is going to question him?” She shook her head angrily. “It is why I took the baby to your cousin. When I found out what they’d done, I looked up her address, drove by her house many times, wondering if I should tell her. But I never did. Not until Matthew had no one to care for him.”

The doctor was coming up to my side of the car. I saw his image looming larger by the second in the driver’s-door mirror.

He seemed to be holding one arm pressed closed to his side.

I powered down the window.

“Dr. Sturgess,” I said, once he was even with the door.

He smiled. “Mr. Harwood. I was pretty sure that was you.” He leaned over slightly so he could see my passenger. “Hello, Sarita. How are you doing?”

Sarita said nothing.

“I wondered if we could have a talk,” Sturgess asked.

“That’s Mr. Gaynor back there, isn’t it?” I said.

“It is.”

“We all going to have a chat together?”

“That would be ideal,” the doctor said.

“Where would you like to do that?”

“If you two would like to get out, I think we could have it right here.”

I hadn’t yet killed the engine, and was reaching for the key when my cell rang.

“One sec,” I said to Sturgess, holding up a finger.

“We really need to talk now,” he said.

I waved that finger again, went into my pocket for the phone with my other hand. Pulled it out.

Saw who it was.

“Hello?” I said.

Aunt Agnes screamed, “Run!”