What Happened to the Bennetts(39)

Dom ran ahead to the white van, opening the passenger door. “Jason, put her in. I’ll drive.”

“Stay calm, honey.” I eased Lucinda into the seat, and she breathed with effort, her mouth slightly open.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, which wasn’t like her.

“It’s okay,” I told her, but I would never discount the worst-case scenario again. I was living the worst-case scenario.

“Mom!” Ethan wedged his way to her, starting to cry. “Be okay!”

“I’ll be fine.” Lucinda forced a smile, jittery.

I put my hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Ethan, stay here with Wiki.”

“Jason, no, you can’t go!” Dom hustled to the driver’s side.

“Yes, I am!” I reached for the back door, but Wiki restrained me with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Jason, stay.” Wiki met my gaze with new authority. “You’ll jeopardize her safety. Dom’s got this.”

“Dom?” I called to him, and he met my eye with a nod, giving me the answer I needed.

Lucinda looked over, agonized. “Love you,” she mouthed through the window.

I didn’t have to read her lips.

Meanwhile Dom had started the engine and was already taking off. Shards from the driveway flew as the van zoomed into the street. Ethan wrapped his arms around my waist, and we watched the van disappear into the darkness, its red taillights swallowed up by the night.



* * *



—

    I stood behind the screen of the front door, looking out. The driveway was dark, still, and quiet except for the natural sounds. There was nothing to see, but I was too nervous to sit down. I assumed Dom and Lucinda were at the hospital and I was on tenterhooks.

Ethan curled up on the couch with Moonie, teary and exhausted. The TV was on, but we weren’t watching. I tried to shake off the frustration building up inside. I hated staying behind while my wife was being taken to the hospital by an FBI agent. It should have been me. What if there was a decision to make? I had to be there. She would have been there for me, no question.

Ethan emitted a sigh, and I crossed to the couch and sat down next to him. Moonie whipped his fuzzy head around, growling.

“No,” I snapped. “Ethan, what’s the matter with Moonster?”

“He hates it here.”

“I get it.” I put an arm around Ethan, and Moonie resettled on my son’s far side.

“Dad, will she be okay? You said she has a heart murmur.” Ethan pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “What’s that?”

“It’s common.”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

“It didn’t matter enough.”

“I’m worried about Muggy, too.” Ethan called my mother-in-law Muggy, since he hadn’t been able to say grandma when he was little. “I don’t want the bad guys to get her.”

“They won’t. The FBI’s going to protect her. Wiki said so.”

Suddenly my cell phone rang on the end table, and I dove for it, checking the screen. “It’s Dom,” I told Ethan.

“Dom, how is she?”

“She’s fine. It’s a panic attack.”

Thank God. I repeated for Ethan’s benefit, “So it’s not a heart attack, it’s a panic attack?”

“Yes. They’re going to give her something to calm her. We’ll be back tonight.”

“Thank you.” I exhaled with relief. “Can you put her on?”

“No, she’s with the doctor. I stepped outside to make the call.”

“Can I call her? She usually has her phone—”

“No. It’s too risky if you’re overheard.”

“Okay. Tell her I love her.” I felt resigned. An FBI agent was telling my wife I loved her. We ended the call, and I set down the phone.

Ethan frowned. “What’s a panic attack?”

“It means Mom’s upset about Muggy. It got to her. All at once.”

“She’s not gonna die?”

“No, not at all. She’s not even sick. We don’t have to worry, and she’ll be home soon.” I gave him a hug, masking my concern. Lucinda had never had a panic attack in her life. I felt like we were beginning to fall apart at the seams.

Moonie started growling.

And though I had sympathy for everyone in the family, I was running out of patience with Moonie. “Hush,” I told him.





Chapter Twenty



Lucinda rested her head on my chest, with one leg over me in the darkness of the bedroom. She called it her “husband cocoon,” I assume because she thought I kept her safe. Now we both knew that was sheer fantasy.

“I’m so stupid,” Lucinda said softly. “I mean, it felt like a heart attack.”

“No, don’t say that. That’s how they feel.” I had read about panic attacks online, getting up to speed.

“I feel like a drama queen.”

“No, you’re not,” I said, meaning it. My wife never complained. She got things done, no matter what.

“I never thought I was the kind of person to have a panic attack.”