Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(106)

Once again, I felt there was much my sister could learn from her daughter.

The subject of Danny Chesterfield wasn’t brought up even once as we charged through our day. Margaret turned over the Closed sign to read Open, flipped on all the lights and stopped to pet Whiskers, who’d taken his spot in the display window.

No sooner had she unfastened the lock than our first customer arrived. I hadn’t finished with my paperwork, so Margaret waited on her.

Even at the best of times Margaret isn’t a chatty person, but as the day wore on I noticed that she seemed quieter than usual. I knew our brief conversation that morning weighed on her mind. Frankly, it did on mine, too.

John F. Kennedy is reported to have said that we can forgive our enemies but we shouldn’t forget their names. I wasn’t forgetting Danny Chesterfield anytime soon, but to the best of my ability I’d forgiven him. I don’t mean to sound like some spiritual giant who could magnanimously offer this man my pardon. For one thing, I had far less to forgive than my sister. Julia was my niece, not my daughter. This man had put Margaret and Matt through hell when he hurt Julia.

Toward the end of the afternoon, Margaret approached me. I’d returned to my office to complete some orders. “Can you come with me after work?” she asked.

I assumed she wanted the two of us to visit Mom. “Of course.”

Margaret nodded and offered me a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “Thank you.”

I almost asked, “For what?” Margaret was thanking me? That was a rare occurrence.

“You were talking about going to visit Mom, weren’t you?” I pressed, suddenly unsure.

Margaret shook her head. “No, actually I was thinking of going to the hospital.”

Sometimes I can be a little slow, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall who we knew in the hospital. My confusion must have shown on my face because Margaret walked over to my desk, picked up the folded newspaper and waved it in front of me.

“You want to visit Danny Chesterfield?” I asked, so astonished I could barely get the words out.

“You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?”

My immediate reaction was to do exactly that. I had absolutely no desire to see Danny Chesterfield. He probably had no desire to see Margaret and me, either.

“What possible good will that do?” I asked.

“Are you coming or not?” she demanded. “A simple yes or no will do.”

“Ah…”

“Fine, suit yourself,” she snapped, walking quickly as if she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

I took a couple of minutes to consider before I followed her. “I’ll go,” I said in as neutral a voice as I could manage.

“Don’t do me any favors.”

“I’m not,” I told her, although this definitely felt like one.

While Margaret was busy helping a customer, I called Brad on his cell phone and told him I’d be home a bit later than usual and why.

“You’re doing what?” he said when I’d explained Margaret’s request. “Do you really think this is a wise idea?”

“Which? Margaret visiting Danny Chesterfield or me going with her?”

“Both!”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

For a moment I thought Brad was going to try to dissuade me, but he didn’t. I was grateful for that because I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if he’d asked me not to go.

After Margaret and I closed up shop for the day, we decided to leave my vehicle in the parking area. Margaret could drive, since it seemed pointless to take two cars, especially during rush-hour traffic.

The first place we went was the information desk at Harbor-view, the hospital where, according to the paper, Chesterfield had been taken. The clerk there checked her computer. “Daniel Chesterfield was brought in two days ago by an emergency medical vehicle and released to local authorities this morning.”

Margaret nodded.

I didn’t have a clue what that could mean. “In other words, he’s in jail now?” Apparently his injuries weren’t significant enough to keep him hospitalized.

“He’s in the King County Medical Facility at the jail,” the woman said.

“Oh…”

“Thank you,” Margaret said, and together we hurried out of the hospital.

“Well, that’s that,” I said, glad of the reprieve. I didn’t understand why Margaret wanted to visit this criminal in the first place.

“We’re going to the King County Jail,” Margaret announced when we got back in the car.

I’d hoped she’d drop this and should have known better. “They won’t let us see him,” I said. “Why are we doing this, anyway?”

My sister ignored me. She was on a mission, which did not include informing me of her reasons. And little things like steel bars and gun-toting guards weren’t about to slow her down.

Finding a parking spot and getting into the facility wasn’t a task for the weak-willed. I was astonished by all the regulations we had to observe just to talk to an official.

When we finally met with a corrections officer, Margaret got straight to the point. “Can I see Daniel Chesterfield?” she asked.

He looked at her as if she’d requested an audience with the Pope. “No.” He didn’t elaborate. “It’s way past visiting hours,” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. “In case you ladies didn’t realize it, this is a correctional facility. Otherwise known as a jail. Mr. Chesterfield has been indicted on a class one felony charge.”