Page 22 of Unnatural
She sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “I know. But I appreciate you letting me have a few words with him before kicking him out. He’s agreed to go to an AA meeting this Friday.”
The sheriff stopped what he was writing and looked up at her. “Do you think he’ll follow through?”
“I hope so. But if not, it’s a step closer than I’ve gotten with him before.”
The sheriff gave a terse nod. “You put too much faith in people, Autumn.”
“No,” she said. “I like to think I have a good handle on human nature. But when life has given you a second chance, you can’t help wanting to help others reach for theirs too. It just feels like a”—she searched for the right word—“duty.”
“You’re going to be disappointed more often than not.”
“Maybe. But still.”
“But still.” His smile was filled with affection. She’d started working as the on-call nurse for the sheriff’s department a year before, but she’d known Ralph Monroe since she’d moved to town. He was a childhood friend of Bill’s, and he’d made it a point to keep an eye on her, make sure she was settling in well and that everyone knew that if they messed with her, they messed with the town sheriff and all its deputies. When she was a teenager, that had been both a blessing and a curse, but now she was only grateful for the way so many had stepped forward to make her feel welcome,both because they were kindhearted and because they loved Bill, who was a lifelong resident.
Ralph’s wife, Veronica, and daughter, Caitlin, had also become part mother/aunt and cousin. Caitlin was only a year older than Autumn, so she’d been a lifesaver on many occasions when Bill didn’t quite know how to mentor her. And Veronica had modeled what a wonderful mother could look like. Autumn hoped someday she’d become a mother herself, and if she did, she’d try her best to be just like Veronica.
She cleared her throat, looking away for a moment. “I might have found my mother,” she said softly for the second time that day. “I’m making the drive to New York City tomorrow morning.”
She’d told the sheriff about her suspicions regarding the hospital. She’d even told him about the boy in the woods and asked if there was anything he could do in an official capacity to look into the facility. He’d tried to help her as much as he could, but he didn’t get far. He was in a different city, and her records were sealed, as were those of the other patients who’d lived at Mercy Hospital. He could help her report a crime if she had even a shred of evidence, but she didn’t, and she knew as well as anyone else that they’d all say she had had hallucinations or dreams so vivid she still thought they were real.
Now she shifted her eyes, waiting for him to tell her she was crazy for continuing to search for answers, but when he didn’t say anything at all, she looked back.
The sheriff regarded her. “I don’t suppose I could talk you out of it.”
She shook her head.
“Didn’t think so. You’re sweet as sugar, Autumn. But stubborn as a damn mule.”
She grinned. “Thanks.”
“You have to make me a promise though. Put some pepper spray in your purse. And, Autumn…hope for the best but expect the worst.”
“Promise.” She left the office, making her way to her car.Hope for the best but expect the worst.She knew what he meant. Her mother had been an addict when she’d gotten pregnant with her and given her up to the system. That was all she knew about the woman. And that was if it was even her. Autumn had managed to come up with a list of names via the hospital where she was born and a few social workers and clerks who had given her information they maybe weren’t supposed to because she was so persistent, but there was no guarantee this woman was the same one who had birthed her. Even more than that, there was no guarantee that if it was, the woman would acknowledge it or even agree to speak to Autumn. This was a crapshoot, but in all reality, her whole life had been a crapshoot. The thing was though, she’dwontoo many times not to keep trying. If there was a possibility this woman could provide answers that might lead to more, then she had to try. She had to.
Impulsively, she turned into a parking lot near the edge of a cliff that looked out over the Hudson River. The wind whipped her dark hair as she exited her vehicle and walked slowly toward the lookout point. Water lapped the rocks below, the deep blue water winding in front of her as far as her eyes could see. She pulled in a big breath of cool, pine-tinged air, an odd feeling moving through her that she was drawing closer and closer to some inevitable something that would change everything for her.Again.
Chapter Twelve
Autumn didn’t necessarily want to think about why a person would rent a room for an hour, but that was what the sign inthe window advertised. But it also offered longer-term stays apparently, because the woman she was looking for lived here. She stepped into the dank lobby, the smell of cigarettes and mildew hitting her nose, waiting a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting. An old man sat, hunched over at a desk against the far wall, reading a magazine, a cigarette hanging from his lip.
“Hi,” she said as she approached. She waited a moment, but he didn’t look up. “Um, I’m here to see a…resident.”
“Name?” His voice was hoarse, and he reached up, removing the cigarette and stubbing it out in an ashtray in front of him that was already full of old butts. His fingers were dry and yellowed, and though she didn’t know the man, it pained her to see a human being who was so obviously unhealthy and probably unhappy if the way he’d barked the singular “greeting” at her was any indication.
She smiled, trying to catch his eye and, at the very least, offer some kindness. “Deborah Dunne.”
He used his yellowed finger to travel down a list of names written in handwriting that was indecipherable to Autumn’s eyes, landing on one and picking up the phone. He pressed a couple of buttons and, a moment later, told the feminine voice on the other end that there was a girl there to see her. Autumn’s heart pumped harder. The man hung up the phone and pointed toward the singular elevator at the back of the lobby. “Room four twelve,” he said, picking up the pack of cigarettes next to him and tapping one out.
Autumn took the elevator that smelled like urine and disinfectant to the fourth floor, careful not to touch anything inside the small, dingy car. For a moment, the scent reminded her of being back in the hospital, only unlike there, here the urine odor was far and away winning the war over whatever cleaner had been used at some point.
The hallway leading to room 412 was dim, the lights buzzing and lowering intermittently. Autumn pulled her purse closer to her body, drawing comfort from the pepper spray she kept inside, mindful that defective wiring was probably the least of any danger she’d confront in this sketchy hall.
She rapped on the door when she came to it, not allowing herself time to back out. She was here, and she was going to see this through, come what may.
The door was pulled open by a bony woman with sharp cheekbones and lank brown hair.
Autumn pulled in a breath, immediately overwhelmed by emotion.Deborah Dunne.She’d never shared her mother’s name. The hospital had assigned Autumn a surname when she’d become their ward, and she’d been a Sterling before she was a Clancy. But although this woman’s eyes were dull and lackluster, Autumn recognized them immediately: shestared at the same ones in the mirror each day. Autumn’s heart simultaneously rejoiced and grieved. This human shell of a person was her mother. She was certain of it. “You’re Deborah Dunne.”
