Look Again

Chapter Seventy-eight

Ellen opened the door, and police filled the living room and immediately began looking around, hurrying into the dining room and toward the stairs, their shoes heavy on the hardwood. Outside the window, she saw flashlights flickering as cops searched her front and side yards. Will quieted in her arms, gazing wide-eyed at an older cop with wire-rimmed glasses who took her aside, his hand on her elbow.

"I'm Officer Patrick Halbert," he said. Snowflakes dusted the shoulders of his nylon jacket. "You're the homeowner who called 911?"

"Yes." Ellen introduced herself. "Where is the ambulance?"

"On its way. Are you injured, ma'am?" Officer Halbert looked at her coat, and she realized that there was blood all over her.

"No, this isn't my blood. It's my son who's hurt. When will the ambulance get here?"

"Five minutes, tops." Officer Halbert's tone sounded official, but under the wet patent bill of his cap, his eyes looked concerned and they scanned Will, up and down. He asked, "Now, you told our dispatcher it was a home invasion?"

"Yes, it was."

"Is there anyone else in the house?"

"Pat!" one of the cops called from the kitchen. "We got two in here!"

Ellen said, "We need to get going, he's bleeding from the head. Can't you take us to the hospital?"

"It's best to wait, so they can treat your boy on the way." Officer Halbert chucked Will's stocking foot. "No shoes, fella?"

Will recoiled, and the cop plucked a Bic from inside his jacket, slid a notepad from his back pocket, and flipped open the pad. "Ms. Gleeson, why don't you fill me in on what happened?"

"Can't we talk about this after my son is treated? That's my priority, and it's not good to talk in front of him, anyway."

"This won't be your formal statement, we'll talk later at the station house. I know who you are, my wife reads you in the paper." Officer Halbert smiled, more warmly. "We'll talk until the ambulance arrives."

"It's a long story, but there was an intruder in my house. He had a gun. He broke in and tried to kill me and my son. He poured gasoline on him." Ellen glanced at Will, whose gaze remained on the cop, though she knew he was listening. "Then a woman named Carol Braverman came in and interrupted him, and he shot her when she tried to save W. I tried CPR on her but it was too late." Ellen felt a stab of guilt but stayed in control. It wasn't the time to break down. "They're in the kitchen."

"They're the bodies?"

"Yes." Ellen caught a glimpse of bright red lights in the street. It was the ambulance pulling up, spraying snow from its back tires. "They're here."

"Let's go." Officer Halbert quickly put away his pen and pad. "We'll escort you to the hospital, Ms. Gleeson."

Ellen was already out the door, cuddling Will against the storm, and he held her tight as Halbert and some other cops fell in beside them, and they descended the porch stairs into the snowy night. A paramedic jumped out of the cab and flung open the ambulance's back doors, spilling harsh fluorescent light onto the snow.

Ellen hurried down the walk with Will, plowing through wet snow in her boots. "Lots of snow, huh?"

"So much!" Will answered agreeably.

"Already eight inches," Officer Halbert added, steadying Ellen by the arm as the paramedic rushed to meet them.

"This the boy?" the paramedic shouted over the idling engines. He held out his arms for Will, and Ellen handed him over.

"Yes, he's three, bleeding from behind his ear. His head was' pressed from the side."

"You ride in back, Mom." The paramedic hustled Will to the back of the ambulance and climbed inside, and Ellen followed, stepping up onto the corrugated metal floor.

"Here we go, Will," she said, putting a hand on his stocking foot. She must have been crazy not to get him another pair of shoes. "We're riding in an ambulance. Cool, huh?"

"Wait, wait!" came a shout, and they all looked back. A black sedan had pulled up behind the police cruisers, and a man was running toward them in the snowstorm, waving his arms, his sport jacket flapping in the whirling snow. Cops surged toward him, blocking him, but in the light from the open ambulance, Ellen recognized his agonized features.

It was Bill Braverman.

"Stop, wait!" He fought the cops to get to the ambulance, but they held him back, the melee silhouetted in the high beams of the cruisers. A bitter wind picked up, and the snow swirled as Bill struggled free of them and reached the ambulance doors, shouting, "Wait, stop, let me see!

"Mister, get outta here! We gotta go!" the paramedic shouted back, pushing him away, but Bill took one look at Will and his expression filled with joy.

"Timothy, it's you! Thank God, it's you!" Bill held out his arms, and Will burst into terrified tears.

"Mommy!" he screamed, and Ellen jumped up, blocking the way.

"Bill, we'll sort this out later. I have to get him to the hospital. He has a head injury."

"You!" Bill went wild with outrage. "You're the one! You're the woman who adopted our son!" He started to climb into the ambulance, hoisting himself up by the open door, but the cops pulled him back and the paramedic held him off. He shouted, "That's my boy I That's Timothy! Where's my wife? What did you do to my wife?" He turned angrily to the cops flanking him. "I'm Bill Braverman! Where's my wife, is she here? Is she all right?"

"She's right here," the paramedic answered, gesturing in confusion at Ellen, who had turned to calm W.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Tears spilled from his eyes, his lower lip shuddering.

Officer Halbert put a hand on Bill's arm. "Sir, is your wife Carol Braverman?"

"Yes, where is she? Is she all right?"

"Sir, please come with me," Officer Halbert said. "I need to speak with you." The other cops crowded around, clearing the ambulance as snow whirlpooled around them all.

"But that's my son! My son! Is he hurt? Where's my wife? That's our son!"

"Mommeeee!" Will screamed, confused, and Ellen smoothed the hair back from his head. Blood leaked down the back of his neck, and bright red drops stained his hoodie.

"It's all right, baby, it's all right."

"We gotta go!" the paramedic shouted, buckling Will onto the gurney, then he shifted over to shut the back doors and twisted the handles closed. He climbed around Ellen and leaned toward the driver in the cab. "Locked and loaded, Jimmy!"

"It's all right," Ellen kept saying, holding Will's hand. She looked back through the windows, and just before the ambulance pulled away, she heard an anguished cry through the howling storm. Bill Braverman had lost his wife on the very night he'd found his son.

"Okay, little man, this won't hurt a bit," the paramedic said to Will, wrapping a child-size pressure cuff around his arm.

"It's all right, honey," Ellen said, holding his hand, but Will cried harder. "It's all right, everything's going to be all right."

Through the back window, the cops became stick figures against the whirling white, and Ellen felt a wrench of deep sadness. For Bill, for Carol, and for herself.

And especially, for W.