No Escape Claws

Chapter 22

After an early lunch, I collected Charlotte and we drove across town to pick up Mallory Pearson and her brothers. We were taking them to see their father. It had taken the efforts of both Liz and Judge Halloran to make the visit a reality. I had no idea what strings had been pulled or favors called in. And I didn’t care.

At first glance the prison building reminded me a little of a generic office building. It was clean and white and an American flag snapped in the breeze on a manicured patch of grass. Then I caught sight of the high fence topped with barbed wire.

We were taken to the warden’s office. It had been decided that it was the best place for the meeting. I realized best probably meant safest. The office was smaller than I expected, with off-white walls, dark wood furniture and a charcoal and cream carpet on the floor.

The warden, whose name was David Ramsey, was a tall man in a black suit with a blue shirt and striped tie. Ramsey had smooth, dark skin and keen eyes behind black-framed glasses. His was the kind of a strong handshake that told me he likely never had a problem opening jars.

“You’re Nick Elliot’s mother,” he said to Charlotte, a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I am,” she said.

“I worked with him years ago. I used to be a paramedic.”

Charlotte’s gaze narrowed. “You were at Maiden’s Cliff.”

Maiden’s Cliff.

Nick had received an award for bravery several years ago for rescuing a six-year-old boy who had fallen down the rocky outcrop above Megunitcook Lake, as well as the off-duty paramedic who had sustained a badly broken leg trying to get to the child. It was a cold and wet late October day and both the boy and the paramedic had been suffering from hypothermia. Without Nick’s efforts, things could have ended very differently for both of them.

“Nick saved my life,” Ramsey said. “He’s a good man.”

“I believe the same can be said about you,” Charlotte said with a smile.

The warden smiled back at her and it occurred to me that maybe Liz and Neill Halloran hadn’t been the only ones calling in favors to make this visit happen.

A guard brought Michael Pearson to the warden’s office. He was wiry with no excess body fat. His dark hair was cut close to his head. He moved slowly—not surprising since he still had broken ribs and was still dealing with the effects of the concussion he’d suffered when he was beaten. The right side of his face was bruised but the color was fading to mostly greens and yellows. There was a wariness in Mike’s eyes as he stepped into the room as though he expected that somehow this hope, this happy ending might be snatched away from him. But it disappeared the moment he saw his children.

Austin flung himself at his father and it must have hurt with those broken ribs. But there was no sign of pain on Michael Pearson’s face as he hugged his younger son and pulled his older boy to him with his free arm.

Had Mike been trying to protect Greg when he took that plea deal? Watching the two of them now I was certain he had.

Mallory hung back, eyes locked on her father, not moving. Charlotte put a hand on her shoulder. “Go hug your father,” she urged.

“This is real, right?” Mallory asked, her voice shaking.

“Absolutely,” Charlotte said. She gave the teen’s shoulder a squeeze. “Go!”

Mike held out his hand then and the smile on his face, in his eyes was pure joy. Mallory bolted to her dad, laying her head on his chest and for the first time since this case began I saw her cry.

Charlotte put her arm around me. I laid my head on her shoulder for a moment and brushed away a few tears of my own.

Mike spoke to each of his children in turn, putting a hand on their faces, studying each one of them as though he were looking for what was the same and what was different. Finally he turned his attention to Charlotte. “Charlotte Elliot, it’s so good to see you,” he said.

“It’s very good to see you, too,” she said. Her eyes were suspiciously bright.

He looked at me then. “You must be Sarah Grayson.”

I nodded. “I am, and I’m very happy to meet you at last.”

Mike swallowed hard and momentarily seemed to be at a loss for words. “Thank you just seems way too inadequate,” he finally said.

“It seems just right to me,” Charlotte said.

Mike extended his left hand. Austin was gripping the right one like he was never going to let go. Charlotte caught it and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said.

Then he offered his hand to me. Like Charlotte, I took it and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“You are so, so welcome,” I told him. I don’t think I’d ever meant the words more.

• • •

Gram picked up Charlotte at the end of the day. They were taking dinner to Liz. Avery left with Rose and Mr. P. to meet Greg for the second night of the film festival at the library.

Jess had a date. Michelle was at the station. And Liam was taking Nick out, because, as he’d put it, “Nick’s love life is lamer than yours.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me, furball,” I said to Elvis as I locked the back door. “What do you want on your pizza?”

He seemed to consider my question for a moment then meowed loudly. “Pepperoni and mushrooms it is then,” I said.

I changed into sweats and ordered the pizza as soon as I got home. Liam was right, I decided, padding out to the living room in bare feet. My love life was lame. It was Saturday night and I was spending it with my cat. The furball in question had already settled himself on one of the stools at the counter.

My phone rang. I looked at the screen. It was Mac.

“Hi,” he said.

I smiled. “Hi back at you.”

Elvis turned his head to look at the door. A moment later I heard a knock.

“That was fast.”

“Excuse me?” Mac said.

“It’s just my pizza. Hang on a sec.”

I set the phone on the counter. “Talk to Mac,” I told the cat.

I opened the door. And Mac was standing there holding a pizza box. “Special delivery,” he said with a grin.

For a moment I just stared at him. Then I threw my arms around him in a hug.

He was here.

He was home.