“You’ll feel better,” Miss Weena said. “You’ve kept your silence for a long time.” She paused, then added, “Too long, I think.”
“Yes.” She was quiet for a few moments, as if assembling her thoughts. “Before I came here, I lived in Burrville where Miss Gracie came from. I worked in the Mayor’s house.” She looked at them, her dark eyes alive with sudden hate. “He was a pig. He tried to…” She stopped.
“I think we understand,” Luci said.
“I pushed him down the stairs and killed him. Then I ran away. I came here and met Boudreaux. We married. Everything was fine. Then Miss Gracie came. If she recognized me…” She looked at them. “I couldn’t go back. So I shot her. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t go back.”
“But,” Luci frowned, “she didn’t recognize you, did she?”
“It was just a matter of time. It would have been in the newspapers. He was the mayor of Burrville. I was no one. A maid.” Her voice fell flat, her eyes blank.
“It was self-defense,” Luci wasn’t sure if Louise’s blank gaze was good or bad. And she tried to wrap her dazed brain around the idea of Louise as a temptation. It wasn’t easy.
She shook her head. “No one would have understood. They blamed girls then, when men behaved badly. I was happy here. There’d never be any man but Boudreaux here. I was safe…”
And silent. Was that the real reason she’d ceased to speak? If she opened her mouth, did she fear what would come out?
“So what are you going to do now, Louise?” Luci asked, as the pain in her back grew more acute, then faded to almost bearable.
She looked surprised. “I—don’t know.”
“You’re pointing a gun at us. Are you going to kill us, too?” Miss Weena asked, sounding more curious than scared. Why should she be scared? She had planned to die anyway. Her work here was done.
Luci spread her hands across her stomach.
“I just want to get away,” Louise said, but her voice lost what slight emotion that had briefly animated it. She looked at Miss Weena and then at Luci. “They’ll let me go if I have you. The Captain is your father. He’ll have to let me go.”
“Where will you go?” Luci asked, trying to reach through the blankness to reason or common sense or something.
A stir outside caught Louise’s attention. Keeping the gun trained on them, she went to the window and eased the curtain back. Color drained from her face.
With her back turned, Miss Weena was mouthing to Gracie, “Now. Do it now.”
Gracie looked at Luci, who hesitated, then shook her head again. Last time they did this, bullets still flew. She couldn’t take that risk, not with her baby.
“They’re out there. With guns!” Louise swung back to look at Luci. “How did they know?”
Luci kind of shrugged, it hurt too much to actually shrug. “You made me hang up on Mickey. He’s not stupid.”
Louise was silent for a moment, then she said, “Get up.”
“Me?” Luci touched her chest. She hadn’t been nervous, but the odd look in Louise’s usually calm gaze wasn’t encouraging. At her age, where did she really think she could go?
“Yes, you! Get up.” She gestured with the gun.
“Give me a minute. Or ten.” Luci braced her hands on the side of the chair and pushed. And pushed and pushed. Panting, she finally achieved upright. Was Louise seriously considering taking an imminently pregnant woman anywhere but a hospital?
“Come here. You’re going to tell them…” Louise stopped.
“What am I going to tell them, Louise?”
“That I couldn’t help it. That…”
Miss Weena suddenly spoke up. “Tell them she wants money and a plane to—somewhere.” She looked delighted with herself. “Somewhere without an extradition treaty.”
“Miss Weena!” Luci gave her a look that was meant to be severe, but probably wasn’t because of the pain. “Besides, these days she just needs to go to France. They won’t extradite her with the death penalty on the table.”
“She doesn’t want to live in France, the ungrateful…”
“Stop it,” Louise said.
When they did, she looked pleased. Luci wondered how long she’d wanted to do that.
“Yes, tell them I want money and safe passage. No, I’ll tell them.” She grabbed Luci, pressing the gun into her side. “We’re going to the door. Don’t make any sudden moves…”
Luci hadn’t planned to but some things were beyond her control. Water gushed between her legs, warm water. Louise was close enough for her to be soaked in it, too.
There was a moment of silence. Miss Weena blinked twice, like an odd owl. “What’s that?”
“My water broke,” Luci said.
“She’s in labor,” Louise said.
“But…” Miss Weena looked betrayed. “You promised.”
Whatever Luci might have been tempted to say, it was lost in a gasp of pain as her body launched itself into full labor, whether she was ready for it or not.
“Here,” Louise said, becoming herself again, only with a voice, “let me help you down.” With a thump, the gun dropped to the floor.
Even nodding was beyond Luci, as a pain tried to twist her spine in half.
“Get some pillows for her, Miss Weena, those right there.”
Miss Weena, after a longing look at the gun, went for the pillows instead, and then Luci felt Louise’s strong arms under hers.
“Careful now, down you go…”
A painful eternity later, Luci found herself lying on the rug, looking up into two anxious faces. Luci had a feeling Miss Weena was only anxious to leave.
“How long have you been having pains?” Louise asked.
“Since I got up, but I thought it was more Braxton-Hicks,” Luci managed to grit out. “At the hospital, they seemed to think I had another week…” She broke off, gritting her teeth. “I want Mickey.”
Miss Weena looked uneasy. “I could boil some water.”
Louise shook her head. “Go get Mickey. Tell him to call an ambulance.”
Moving like an old, old woman, Louise grabbed the gun and got to her
