Hide & Seek - James Patterson [98]
Norma and I hurried across a popular- and maplelined parking area, then into the vestibule, where we approached a receptionist dressed in nurse’s white.
“We’re here to see Mr. Shepherd,” I told her, and if she recognized me she didn’t show it. I appreciated that.
“I’ll have someone take you to his room,” is all she said. An aide eventually materialized to escort us.
Outside Will’s room, I stopped. “Can you wait here?” I said to Norma. “I think I want to see him alone.”
“You’re sure, Maggie? You don’t have to punish yourself, honey.”
“I’m sure. I’m not afraid of him anymore.” Not too much anyway.
“Good for you then. I’ll be the short, dumpy broad waiting outside. Maybe some guy in here is nuts enough to fall for me.”
The aide unlocked the door and I entered. I entered. It was a plain enough room: clean, a made bed, desk, desk chair, easy chair, and standing lamp its only furniture. There was a bookcase built into the far wall holding a few new paperbacks, obviously unread, and a small sink for washing. It reminded me of prison, only it was nicer.
Will was standing by the window. There was no sign that he ever sat down. He was looking at me, looking through me, I guess I should say.
I’m not afraid anymore. I can do this. Whatever is necessary, I told myself.
If it was possible, Will was even more handsome than when I had first met him in London. His hair was its natural blond, long and full. It caught the afternoon sun through the heavily screened window.
“Hello, Will.”
Nothing.
His face was clean shaven and pale pink; his body seemed to have the same lithe grace, even standing still, that it always had.
“It’s Maggie, Will.”
He looks like a grown-up little boy, I thought, remembering Will at the very first Lake Club party, at our wedding, confessing his sorrow and pain, and all his lies.
I had loved him—because he could make himself seem so lovable. He was a very good actor after all. He had fooled so many people—half the world. He had worked hard to fool me.
He made a strange sound, a high-pitched wail that reverberated in the hospital room. The second shot I’d fired at the estate had struck his head, caromed off bone, but done severe damage anyway.
“Mmahhlah … mmahhlah,” he said to me. He seemed insistent; but I didn’t understand.
What was he trying to say?
Was it Maggie? Mother? Was it Mama? What was it?
I sat in a hard wooden chair directly across from him. I forced myself to look at his face.
I’m sorry I did this to you, Will. But I’m not guilty about it. I sleep at night—I sleep just fine. You did this to yourself.
I thought of the murder he’d committed in Bedford Hills; of his terrifying betrayal of me; of what he had done to Jennie and Allie, and what he’d planned to do to us all.
But I couldn’t hate him. Not now. Not the way he was.
“Will, can you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?”
The dead stare didn’t change. He couldn’t understand, could he? He had gone to his own world forever.
It’s so sad, I thought, as I watched him that afternoon at the hospital. You’re still young. You look so young, so full of promise. But you won’t hurt me ever again. You won’t hurt my children. I’m not scared of you, Will.
A little past five o’clock, the aide returned. He was jangling his keys so I’d hear him come up on us. “Visiting hours are over.”
“Thank you. I’ll just be another minute. Please?”
I stood and walked to the window where Will was still standing. A cloak of solemn gray had already replaced the sunlight outside.
I turned to Will. “I feel so sorry for you,” I said, “but I can’t forgive you either.”
I wanted him to say something. A final few words to remember him by. To explain why he had wanted to kill me. Why he had hurt us. Who was Will Shepherd, really? Did anyone know?
“Okay. Good-bye, Will. I’m sorry for you.”
I gathered