CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
When she returned home from her doctor’s appointment the following afternoon, Meg thanked Fiona for watching Quint, and asked if she would like to stay for dinner. “It’s just going to be hamburgers, cole slaw, and potato salad. Nothing fancy – we’re probably going to eat outside.”
“I’d love to stay. Why don’t you and Quint take a dip in the pool? It’s too hot not to.”
“Great idea. I’m sure Sky’s going to want to take a swim when he gets home.”
Fiona changed Quint into swim trunks while Meg changed into a bikini. “I applied his sunscreen, so he’s all ready to go outside,” she said, handing the baby to Meg.
“Thanks for your help. Why don’t you join us in the pool?”
“I think I will. I’ll make the burger patties first, then run home and change. I’ll meet you outside in a little bit.”
“Great.” Meg poured a glass of ice water and grabbed a towel with her free hand. She tried to pick up her cell phone, but was unable to juggle it with everything else in her hands, and left it on the counter.
She placed Quint on his tummy in the portable play yard set up on the deck while she applied sunscreen. She watched the baby push up and rock back and forth. “You’re just about ready to crawl, aren’t you? Mommy and daddy have to double check to make sure the house is completely baby-proofed, especially since it’s going to be a three-ring circus around here in a few months when your little brother or sister arrives. Daddy’s going to be so excited when we tell him tonight.” She laughed as she rubbed more sunscreen onto her stomach, “And just when I finally fit back into my favorite bikini, mommy’s tummy is going to get big again.”
Meg scooped Quint up, placed him in his swim vest, and carried both him and an inflatable airplane float into the pool. The baby laughed and clapped his hands when she dragged him around the water in the plane. “Aww…you like being a pilot, don’t you?”
The sound of her cell phone ringing came from the kitchen. “It’s probably daddy calling to say he’s on his way home,” she said to Quint. “I guess it’s time to get out of the water and start getting dinner ready.” As she wrapped the baby up in a towel, both her cell phone and the house phone began to ring. Hmm…I wonder who is calling, and what’s going on.
Over the previous six months, Mallory planned with meticulous precision the details of her escape from the psychiatric hospital. She thought back to the day she watched the news coverage about Quint’s birth on Inside Access in the day room of the ward. That bitch stole my man, and my baby. And now she’s got to pay.
She remembered how much she had wanted to lash out at the television that day, but the memory of being placed in a straight jacket and padded cell following the news reports of Sky’s wedding to Meg kept her from doing so. I’m not going to make that mistake again. Instead, she held herself together and plotted her revenge.
Using the short, unescorted walks she was permitted each day outside the facility, she was able to prove that she could be a model patient, and her free time was increased each week until she was allowed a full, unsupervised day outside the hospital. She made sure she returned from each outing on time, if not early. I don’t want them to suspect anything. I have to show I can be trusted, so my privileges aren’t taken away.
On one of her outings, she wandered into a local drug store, and caught up with the tabloids and gossip magazines that were displayed on racks. As she flipped the pages, she came across a story about the Johnson Bishop Band, and the babies born to both Sky and Jack. She recognized Sky’s log cabin in one of the photos, and began to shake uncontrollably when she turned the page and saw another photo of Sky and Meg playing with the baby they called Quint. But that’s not his name. I named him William. They have to stop calling him that, otherwise he won’t know his name when I come for him. In that moment, she made up her mind that she would accelerate her plan, and escape the next time she was allowed out for the day.
Mallory had trouble containing her excitement on the morning of her next unsupervised day out. She wanted to run out of the hospital gates, but did not want to arouse suspicion, so she kept her pace slow. She turned right, walked for a few blocks, and then turned left into a residential area. As she walked, she tried the door handles of the cars she passed until she found one unlocked. When she reached under the dashboard, she knelt on something hard, and pulled back the floor mat.
This is lucky. What kind of idiot leaves keys in an unlocked car? She started the ignition, backed it out of the driveway, and noticed there was a full tank of gas. I really hit the jackpot today, she thought, as she programmed the GPS for Nashville. By the time they realize I’m missing, I’ll be long gone.
She drove for ten straight hours, and when the fuel gauge hovered near empty, she pulled into a truck stop, where she performed blow jobs in exchange for gas, money and food.
With some of the money she earned, she was able to pull off the road and buy a brown wig. She looked at herself in the mirror, and thought, this should keep me from being recognized. She got back on the interstate, and stopped at two more truck stops to make the rest of the money she needed to fund her trip.
After nearly three days of driving with little sleep, Mallory neared her destination. She remembered there were some hunting cabins in the woods outside Nashville, and stopped the car at an abandoned one a mile from Sky’s home. She removed the license plates from the car and buried them, then covered the car with branches and leaves.
Next, she jimmied the flimsy lock on the exterior of the cabin, and looked around. There was a cabinet on the back wall, and when she tried the handle, she found it unlocked.
Mallory removed a rifle, binoculars, and ammunition from the unlocked cabinet, then changed into some too-big woodlands camouflage bib overalls and a matching camo ball cap she found hanging on a nearby hook. She took a deep breath, and said, “Time to go hunting.”
Flashing lights greeted the Johnson Bishop Band when their flight landed in Nashville. As Sky he stepped off the jet and onto the tarmac, he was approached by two police officers.
One of the officers said, “Mr. Johnson, there’s a problem. You have to come with us immediately.”
Sky wrinkled his brows, and looked from one officer to the other. “What’s wrong?”
“Mallory Chasen escaped from the psychiatric hospital where she was being held in Nevada. We have reason to believe that she may be headed here to Nashville.”
A chill ran through Sky’s body, and he began to shake. “When did she escape?”
“Three days ago, but we were only just notified. We’re sending a squad car to your home, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
The officers guided him to the patrol car. “Let’s get going. In the meantime, you need to call your wife, and tell her to lock herself inside the house, and stay away from the windows.”
Sky whipped his phone out of his pocket, and dialed Meg’s cell phone. When she didn’t answer, he called the house phone, but still couldn’t reach her. “Shit! She’s not answering.” He tried her cell phone again, and left a message. “Meg, if you and Quint are home, stay inside. Mallory escaped. Police are on their way to you. I should be there any minute.”
As the police car weaved through heavy Nashville traffic, Sky began to panic. “How could this happen? Why weren’t we notified right away when Mallory escaped?”
“Sometimes the communication isn’t great across state lines, and notifications fall through the cracks,” one of the officers explained. “Particularly when someone gets out of a mental health facility. It’s not like a jail break that makes the news.”
“Why do you think she’s headed here?”
“Her caseworker told us that she believed that the baby she gave birth to was yours, even though the paternity test proved otherwise. She thinks you and your wife ‘stole’ her baby. And she’s already tried to kill your wife twice before.”
Sky’s chest constricted, and he found it difficult to breathe. He again dialed the house, then Meg’s cell phone, but she didn’t answer. “God damn it, Meg, answer the phone,” he said under his breath.