“We can hope.” Megan wasn’t sure how to play it. She didn’t want to destroy the tiny bit of hope in Bonnie’s eyes. At the same time, it could be disastrous to lull her into a false sense of security. “The fact is, there’s going to be a lot of traffic on the streets today, and the police can’t possibly check everyone. Plus, I’m almost certain Carl saw me take down the license-plate number. He may be smart enough to ditch the truck.”
Bonnie agreed. “He may be drunk and desperate, but he isn’t stupid.”
“That was my impression as well.” Megan tried to lift the sudden gloom that had descended. “Still, the important thing is, you’ve got Tommy back. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to have a very merry Christmas.” She tried to put as much enthusiasm into this pronouncement as possible, but she observed very little change in Bonnie’s demeanor. “The most important thing is, you’re all safe.”
“But for how long?” Bonnie asked. “I want a restraining order.”
“Definitely.” Megan glanced at her notepad. “And we’re appearing before the emergency domestic judge in forty-five minutes. Given what I know, and what the police have on record, it should be a cinch. And after we serve notice on Carl and have a formal hearing, I see no problem with getting a permanent restraining order.”
“Good. I don’t want Carl near us. I don’t want him anywhere in a ten-mile radius.”
“You know, Bonnie …” Megan fingered the edge of her desk. It seemed she had nothing to bring but bad tidings this Christmas. But as an attorney, she had obligations-like the unpleasant duty to give her client a healthy dose of reality. “We’ll get the restraining order. But when all is said and done, an order is just a piece of paper. Like any other law, it can be broken. Ultimately, it’s only as effective as the police who enforce it.”
“The police won’t lift a finger against Carl.”
“I’m not sure I believe that, Bonnie. Especially not now. But you should realize that if Carl really is desperate-a piece of paper isn’t going to stop him.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I wouldn’t necessarily stop with the restraining order. Maybe consider buying a big dog. A Doberman pinscher might slow Carl down.”
“I can’t do that.” She pulled her boy closer to her. “Not with Tommy in the house.”
“Perhaps a high-grade security system.”
“We can’t begin to afford that.”
“Well, you need to do something. At least until Carl is safely behind bars.”
Bonnie nodded, but Megan wasn’t sure how much of this was sinking in. Bonnie was so overwhelmed with relief at having Tommy back, she didn’t seem able to process any additional information.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Bonnie asked, after a bit. “It … maybe personal.”
Megan’s brow creased. She hadn’t anticipated this. “Can’t hurt to ask.”
“You seem … very professional,” she said haltingly. “Very lawyerly.”
“Well, I try,” Megan said, adjusting the collar on her gray skirt-suit.
“Everything in this office is just about as I would expect it to be. With two exceptions. First, this.” She lifted the end ball bearing of Megan’s new desk toy and let it slam into the rest of the ball bearings.
“That was a gift from my buddy Cindy. Sort of.” Megan grabbed the toy and dropped it into her oversize purse. “Maybe I’ll give it to some needy person. Very needy.”
“And the other anomaly,” Bonnie continued, “is this.” She pivoted slightly, then pointed to the long row of ceramic Kewpie dolls lined up on a shelf just over Megan’s law books. “What’s the story with the dolls?”
Megan smiled. “My mother made those. She took a ceramics class at OCU about a million years ago. Learned how to paint them, bake them in a kiln. For years afterward, she gave them to me as presents. I have a bunch more at home.”
“I would never have guessed there was such a … wide variety of Kewpie dolls.”
Megan laughed. “Or wanted to, right?” She walked over to the shelf. Each of the figures seemed to have the same wide, big-eyed face, with different apparel suggesting various locales. “Mother was a world traveler. She never had much money, but what little she could scrape together, she used to travel. When I was little, whenever she was getting ready to go away on a big trip, she would give me a present-one of these dolls.”
Megan pointed to a well-tanned Kewpie on the top shelf wearing a hula skirt. “For instance, just before she left for two weeks in Hawaii, she gave me this hula one.” She moved her finger down the row to a parka-wrapped figurine. “Sometimes she wrapped them up and left them for me to find after she was gone. A few days after she departed for her big cruise around Alaska, I found this furry Eskimo doll.” She laughed. “Pretty cheesy, I know. But when I was a girl, I loved them. Actually, I still do.”
“Your mother sounds like a sweet woman,” Bonnie replied. “Does she live here in Oklahoma City?”
“Uh, no.” Megan looked down abruptly. “She’s … gone. Died not two months ago.”
“Oh no. I’m so sorry.”
Megan waved away the sympathy. She didn’t want it. “It’s all right. It was a long time coming.”
“Had she been … very ill?”
Megan shrugged uncomfortably. “In a way. She was-” She took a deep breath. “She was in the Murrah building. The day the bomb exploded.”
“Oh, my God.” Bonnie’s eyes widened with the memory of that tragic day. “Was she-?”
“She worked for the Social Security Administration, on one of the upper levels. Her floor collapsed, smashing down on everything and everyone beneath. She was trapped under the rubble for more than ten hours.”
Bonnie’s chin dropped.
“All that time she lay helpless, pinioned, alone, trapped under the remains of her desk, listening to the sounds of her closest friends shrieking and crying. Dying.” Megan lowered herself into a chair. “She was never the same after that. Physically, she recovered. But inside … never.”
Bonnie shook her head, as if groping for something to say when there was simply nothing that could be said. “You must have been a great comfort to her, Megan. At least she had someone to talk to. Someone to help her through it. A daughter and a capable lawyer rolled into one.”
Megan’s face remained impassive. “Well, I wasn’t a lawyer at the time. It was only after …” She stopped. There was no point in trying to explain. And no point in detailing those last dreadful months her mother spent in the hospital, so long and torturous that finally she told Megan she was ready to die. But Megan wasn’t ready to let her go. She came to the hospital every day, begging her mother to hold on. Until finally, about two months ago, her mother called for her. But by the time Megan arrived at the hospital, her mother was gone.
No, she thought silently. There was definitely no point in going into all that.
She pushed herself back to her feet. “Anyway, let me prepare you for-”
A knock at the door interrupted her. “Got a call from the courthouse,” Cindy said to Megan. “You’re on in thirty minutes.”
“Great.” Megan grabbed her briefcase and her shoulder bag. She gestured toward Bonnie. “I’ll clue you in on the way to court.”
Cindy started back out the door. “I’m off to shop till I drop. I really appreciate this.”
“Don’t worry. You’d do the same for me.”
“It’s still not too late,” Cindy said. “We won’t leave for Tulsa till five or so. If you’d like to join us-”
“No.” Megan held up her hand. “Thanks, but I don’t belong there. You have a great time.”
“But who will you spend Christmas-”
“Please.” Megan gently nudged her out of the doorway. “Enjoy yourselves. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Cindy replied, but Megan couldn’t help but detect the note of sadness, of sympathy, in her voice. Exactly what she didn’t want to hear.
“Come on then,” Megan said, gathering Bonnie and Tommy. “We don’t want to keep the judge waiting.”
She ushered them out of the office. As she closed the office door, her eyes lighted once more on the row of Kewpie dolls on the back shelf. So many dolls representing so many excursions. So many years.
The truth is, after a while, she had gotten sick of the silly things. She had treated them scornfully, even made jokes to her friends about these stupid ugly dolls her mother kept making for her.
And now everything was different, wasn’t it? Now, if she could have any Christmas gift in the whole wide world, she would wish for one more Kewpie doll.
From her mother.
Carl staggered down the streets of downtown Oklahoma City, wondering what to do next. In the past hour or so the sky had clouded up and it had become bitter cold. He crossed Robinson, then headed toward the Liberty
