I'll Be Your Blue Sky (Love Walked In #3)(64)

Edith said nothing, and when George spoke again, his voice was calmer.

“I’m sorry, Edith. Listen. Have the police chief take her to the hospital. Have him do it right away, and if she is arrested, I’ll help her. I will get her the best lawyer money can buy. I know lawyers who could get the devil himself off. But she has to swear not to mention you or your house to anyone. That’s my one condition. Be sure she understands: if she does mention your house, if she says anything about it at any point, I will withdraw my assistance, and God help her then.”

For the first time, Edith felt shame at having ever put her hands on this man. She sat down heavily in the chair near the telephone, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. After a moment, she took a breath and said, “No.”

“Damn it, Edith.”

“She could lose her baby. Her husband’s family could find a way to take him from her.”

“And what about all the other women and babies? The ones still out there who I haven’t saved yet? I’ve spent years putting this system in place, fine-tuning it; if the police start looking too closely, it could all collapse and take you and me with it.”

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“Do what I say!” he said, loudly.

“If you can’t send a car tonight, tell me where to take her. I’ll drive her and the baby myself.”

“You must be insane. I’m not telling you anything.”

Edith sat for a moment, thinking, then said, “If you don’t, I’ll spill the beans, every last one. I know the first names of all the women who have come through here. I know where they’re from because they always tell me. It won’t take the authorities long to find you and to blast everything you’ve built to hell.”

“How dare you?” he hissed. “You think you can blackmail me?”

“I don’t think I can. I’m doing it. Right now.”



After she hung up the phone, Edith leaned over with effort and let the blood flow to her head. When the stars shooting across her vision had disappeared, she stood up and walked into the bedroom.

“There’s been a change of plans,” she said. “The car can’t get here in time. I’m driving Sarah and Steven.”

“What?” said John, sharply. “Where?”

She held up her notebook. “I have directions to a safe house in Canada. It will be a long drive, so we should leave right away.”

“Oh, no,” John said. “Not you. I’m taking her.”

“It could take days to get there and back, John,” she said. “You have a job. People will wonder where you are; they might even get suspicious. I don’t have any guests scheduled for the rest of the winter.”

John’s eyes glinted. “I don’t care, Edith,” he said. “I won’t let you do this.”

“Be reasonable. A woman no one cares about going on a trip won’t raise any eyebrows. The chief of police disappearing will. And what will you do? Take your police cruiser? Take my car and leave yours here for everyone to see? It won’t work. If you’re not concerned about yourself, think of Sarah and the baby. They’ll have a better chance of getting where they’re going if I take them.”

“Edith,” said John, his voice ragged with emotion, “what if you’re caught?”

“We won’t be. Even if someone stumbles onto our trail, which is very unlikely, the directions I’ve been given are designed to throw people off. Back roads, small towns, swinging wide, looping back. It’s not the fastest route, but it’s safe. And at the border, there will be an officer in place who is part of the system.”

“I’m the one who brought her here,” said John. “I should go.”

“Thank you for wanting to. But you must see that it doesn’t make sense. You’ll take care of things here, think of a story to explain my absence if the need arises. I’ll be back before you know it, and this will all be over.”

“No,” said John, quickly. “Give me the address of the house in Canada, and I’ll send a wire, letting you know when it’s safe to come back.”

Startled, she said, “Why? Why wouldn’t it be safe right away?”

“It will be,” he said. “But just in case.”

As Edith wrote the address down on a piece of notebook paper, she found her hand was shaking, which surprised her. All through her conversation with George, she had stayed collected, but now, here with John, she felt close to breaking down. She took a few long, steadying breaths before she tore the page from her notebook, folded it, and handed it to John, her eyes meeting his.

“I’ll wait to hear from you,” she said.

“I should never have brought you into this,” said John. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nonsense,” she said, smiling at him. “You gave me a choice, remember? I chose this.”

John nodded, wearily. “All right. All right.”

“You should go now,” said Edith. “I can get Sarah and Steven to my car by myself, and the longer you stay, the longer your car sits empty on the street, the greater the risk.”

At the door, John turned to her, his expression unguarded, stripped bare and so full of love that she had to hold back a gasp. A thought flew into her head: Oh God, what if I don’t see this man again?