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"I have something for you," my father said and reached into his breast pocket to pull out an envelope. "What's that?"
"The receipt of delivery from the prison. Ormand Longchamp has your letter," he said. "I did what I promised."
I took the receipt slowly from his hand and gazed upon the official signature. Daddy had received my letter and most likely had already set his eyes upon my words. At least now I could look forward hopefully to receiving his reply.
"But you mustn't be upset if he doesn't write back," my father advised. "I'm sure by now he's ashamed and would have a hard time facing you. Most likely, he doesn't know what to say."
I nodded, staring down at the official receipt.
"It's still hard for me to understand," I said, squeezing back my tears. I looked up at him sharply. "How could he have stolen me right out from under my nurse's nose?"
"Oh, he was very clever about it. He waited until she had left the nursery to go visit Mrs. Boston in her room. It wasn't that she neglected you. You had fallen asleep, and she had taken a break. She and Mrs. Boston were good friends. He must have been hiding in the corridors, watching and waiting for his opportunity. When it came he went in and took you and snuck out the back way."
I looked up sharply.
"Nurse Dalton had gone to Mrs. Boston's room?"
He nodded. But why didn’t Mrs. Boston tell me this when I asked her how Daddy could have taken me right out from under Nurse Dalton’s eyes? I wondered. That was such an important detail; how could she forget it?
“We didn’t know you had been taken until Mrs. Dalton returned and discovered you gone,” my father continued. “At first she thought we had taken you into our room. She came to our door, frantic.
“ 'What do you mean?' I said. 'We don’t have her.’ We didn’t think Grandmother Cutler would have taken you into her suite, but Mrs. Dalton and I ran out to see, and then realization hit me. And I went running through the hotel. But it was far too late.
“One of the staff members had seen Ormand Longchamp in the family section of the hotel. We put two and two together and came to the realization about what he had done. By the time we contacted the police, he and his wife were gone from Cutler’s Cove and of course, we had no idea what direction they had headed.
“I jumped into my car and went tearing about, hoping to be lucky and come upon him, but it was futile.” He shook his head.
“If he should write to you, whatever he tells you in a letter” my father said, his face turning as sour and angry as I imagined it could. “It can’t justify the terrible thing he did. Nothing can.
“I’m sorry his wife died and he’s had such a hard life, but perhaps they were being punished for the horrible crime they committed.”
I turned away because the tears had begun to sneak out the corners of my eyes and zigzag down my cheeks.
“I know it’s been especially difficult for you, honey.” He said, putting his hand softly on my shoulder, “but you’re a Cutler; you’ll survive and become all you were meant to become.
“Well,” he continued, “I’ve got to get back to the job. You should try to eat something,” he said, and I remembered Jimmy. I had to get food to him. “Tell you what,” my father said. “I’ll stop by the kitchen and have someone fix you a plate and send it on down. Okay?”
I could bring that food to Jimmy, I thought.
“Yes, Thank you.”
“If you still don’t feel too well later, let me know, and I’ll have the hotel doctor look in on yo
u.” He said and left.
I gazed in the mirror to see how bad I looked. I couldn’t let Jimmy know what had happened between Phillip and me. If he found out, he would become enraged and go after him, only getting himself into terrible trouble. I had to make myself look good for him so he wouldn’t sense that anything terrible had happened to me. There were still some blotches on my neck and right around my collarbone.
I went to the closet and found a pretty blue skirt and white blouse that had a wide collar and would hide most of the blotches. Then I brushed out my hair and tied a ribbon around it. I put on a little lipstick too. I wished I had some rouge to make my pale cheeks look healthier, I thought.
I heard a knock on my door and opened it to accept my try of food from one of the kitchen staff. I thanked him and closed the door, waiting to hear his footsteps disappear. Then I opened the door slowly and peered out. When I was certain all was clear, I hurried down the corridor and out the exit, carrying the warm tray of food to Jimmy.
"I'm stuffed," Jimmy announced and then looked up from his plate. "One thing you have here is great food, huh?" He sighed. "But I feel like a cooped-up chicken in here, Dawn. I can't stay much longer."
"I know," I said sadly and looked down. "Jimmy . . . Why can't I go with you?"
"Huh?"
"Oh, Jimmy, I don't care about the food or the beautiful grounds. I don't care how important my family is in this community or how wonderful people think the hotel is. I'd rather go with you and be poor and live with people I can love.
