Page 4 of Nowhere to Hide
“A coffee sounds perfect. But make it loaded.”
“You got it.” Dana set off toward the kitchen at the back of the house.
Sandra walked down a grand corridor of dark mahogany walls, accented with watercolor paintings in gilded frames. She imagined now, as she had many times before, the parties previous generations of Davenports would have held here. Theywould have been grand occasions with guests from across the higher echelons of DC, including politicians and diplomats, founders of industry. It was hard to reconcile such people with the humble and loving Davenports with whom Sandra had grown up.
Sandra stepped into the parlor’s doorway, pausing there for a second to take in Margo. She was seated by the window reading a newspaper, appearing so content, it was a shame to disturb her. But Margo looked up at her and smiled.
“Ladybug?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Don’t just stand there. Come give me a hug.” She set the paper on the side table.
Sandra embraced her, feeling her bones through her frail frame. “How are you doing today, Mom?” It had taken her years to call Margo this, as if by doing so Sandra was being disloyal to her late mother. But Margo’s love and kindness had stripped that fear from her. Margo was her second mother, the one her biological mother had sent to care for Sandra and Sam.
“Oh, I’m good.” She tapped the back of Sandra’s hand.
Clear eyes and excellent recall in pulling out Ladybug gave Sandra reason to believe her.Margo, one, Alzheimer’s, zero…For the moment anyhow. The spell of lucidity wouldn’t last, and the brain disorder wasn’t all that Margo had to deal with. A fall last month led to the discovery that Margo had anemia caused by a peptic ulcer in her stomach. With adjustments to her medication and blood transfusions to increase her hemoglobin and ferritin stores, surgery to correct the ulcer had taken place a week ago and was a success. Margo was released two days afterward, and ever since Sandra had been popping over more regularly to check in. As she stepped back, her eye caught the newspaper, and she picked it up. “You should really read something more entertaining, and less… well, depressing.” Herwork as an FBI agent gave her a front-row seat to the evil in the world, and nothing much positive came from the news. Humanitarian stories were far too rare.
“William always prided himself on keeping up with current events.”
William Davenport, Margo’s late husband, had died ten years ago of a sudden heart attack. “He did, but if you’d like, we could talk a bit.” Sandra would rather Margo focus on happier, more upbeat topics than who killed who over what the day before. Too much of that could topple the strongest of mindsets.
“That would be nice. Dana!” Margo called out, just as the nurse walked into the room with a laden tray.
There was a bell system installed in the house’s walls, dating back to a time when household staff lived in a sectioned quarter. From Sandra’s knowledge it still worked, but Margo and William never took to using it, and for those they employed, they were never treated as members of a lower station.
As Sandra folded the paper, she caught a headline that had her cringing.FBI Agent Saves Child’s Life in a Standoff at Founders Hospital.Even though she remained anonymous, she wondered if the press would ever move on to a new story. The incident took place last month when she and her colleague Brice Sutton were requested by the Metropolitan Police Department to assist in the negotiations. Not everything went according to plan, and those aspects still haunted Sandra.
“Sandra, your coffee.” Dana handed her a mug, and Sandra gave her the paper in exchange. The nurse met her eyes, and it was like she got the message.Keep the news away from Margo.
The brew smelled delicious, and Sandra took a slow sip. Rich with notes of chocolate and cherry. Sandra settled into a wingback chair across from where Margo was seated. The lawn outside the window was lush green, and the gardens were in fullbloom. The estate grounds truly provided an oasis in the nation’s capital.
“This is also for you. It came in the mail.” Dana handed Sandra an envelope with her name handwritten on the front. There was no return address.
“Mysterious.” She hadn’t received anything from the postal service at Davenport Manor for many years. At forty-seven, she had moved into her own place decades ago. She glanced over at Margo, who seemed content with her tea, lifting the delicate china cup to her lips in the fashion of British royalty. Her eyes were slightly glazed over, and Sandra recognized the sign. Her mind was drifting, likely on a journey to the past, lost to the present.
Dana excused herself while Sandra opened the envelope. She wouldn’t normally let other things distract her from time with Margo, but she was curious about the contents. She unfolded a handwritten letter and looked right at the signature line. April Clark. The name took a few seconds to register. When it came, Sandra felt like she’d been burned.
“What are you doing here?” Margo’s question cut through Sandra’s panic.
“I’m just here for a visit, Mom.”
“Are you reading my mail?” Margo bit into a sugar biscuit.
“Not at all. This one came for me.” Sandra refolded the letter, but as she did, she caught one line that explained why April had reached out.
I’d love to catch up in person. It’s been so long.
Sandra stuffed the paper back into the envelope. It had been a long time, but not long enough. April was her past, a reminder of one of the hardest times in her life. Right after she and Sam were orphaned, they shared a foster home with April.
Sandra put the envelope on a side table, wishing it to the extreme ends of the globe. Even out of her hands, it sent out a pulse that twisted her heart in a vise.Why is April reaching out after all these years?
“Ladybug,” Margo said, cutting through Sandra’s thoughts.
Margo was back, and Sandra smiled at the dear woman. She initiated small talk, keeping the topics simple yet stimulating. Most of the conversation was about Olivia, Sandra’s sixteen-year-old daughter, or Chickadee, as Margo referred to her. How Olivia was enjoying her summer and getting out on the boat as often as possible. This season brought her daughter to life. Today, she was off doing something with her best friend, Avery. The two girls were inseparable. Later on tonight, both of them were due for dinner at Davenport Manor, to celebrate Margo’s recovery. That was assuming Margo was feeling up to it when the time came.
After the coffee, tea, and biscuits were long gone, Sandra’s phone rang. She excused herself from the parlor to answer.
