Descent Read online

  My heart dropped into my stomach.

  My hands shook as I attempted to smooth out the crumpled paper. I couldn’t put it back in the envelope now. Why had I even looked?

  What could I do?

  Nothing had happened to me. Except…there was still a lot I didn’t remember. A phone number was written on the bottom of the paper.

  There was one way to find out what this was about.

  I’d call the number.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Daphne Steel. Brad Steel’s wife.”

  A throat cleared. “Mrs. Steel. What can I do for you?”

  “You can tell me where the hell you get off trying to extort money from my husband.”

  The words left my throat before I could think about them. I wasn’t going to allow this to happen to my husband, to our family.

  I became a lioness, fierce and protective.

  I was no longer timid Daphne Wade, a colorless flower.

  I was Daphne Steel, a full yellow bloom.

  And I was angry.

  Passionately angry.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I got your message. Let’s come to terms now.”

  The deli owner’s daughter listened intently to the voice on the other end of the phone.

  She didn’t blink. She didn’t falter.

  She’d always been able to separate logic from emotion, ever since she began working in her father’s shop. There was something soothing about slicing deli meats. Thick, thin, or shaved. The rhythm of the industrial slicer.

  Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”

  It was just meat. Not a dead animal. Meat. Sustenance. Her family’s livelihood. She loved deli sandwiches, especially the Bronx Bomber. Pastrami and egg salad. The reuben was also great. Corned beef on rye with sauerkraut and swiss cheese.

  Yum.

  “I see,” she said to the voice. “What proof do you have of any of this?”

  The woman’s voice rattled off one fact after another.

  Sad. So sad. Daphne had a lot to live with. It was the deli owner’s daughter’s job to make sure she could.

  “And you say you know who did this to her?”

  “Yes,” the voice said. She listed three names.

  Hmm. Two of them sounded vaguely familiar. Maybe all three did. Perhaps they’d come into the shop a few times. The deli owner’s daughter dealt with a lot of different people, and she prided herself on recalling the names of her customers.

  “Why weren’t they prosecuted?” she asked the woman on the other end of the phone.

  “They weren’t caught.”

  “You clearly know who they are. Why haven’t you turned them in?”

  “I’d rather use the information for my own gain.”

  Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”

  The rhythm that kept the deli owner’s daughter in step. The rhythm she fell into when emotion threatened to overcome her.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked into the phone.

  “What? I mean…yeah. You can pay me. I need some money. If you don’t want this information made public… Why wouldn’t you want it made public? This is about you, Mrs. Steel.”

  Mrs. Steel? Odd. She was the deli owner’s daughter. She was here to protect Mrs. Steel. Mrs. Daphne Steel. People often mistook her for Daphne, but that was okay. She was here to protect Daphne.

  “I think you have the wrong number,” the deli owner’s daughter said.

  “I have the wrong number? You called me, remember?”

  The deli owner’s daughter wrinkled her forehead. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t call anyone. You must have called me. Our special this week is corned beef.”

  “For God’s sake. I need to talk to Brad Steel. Could you get him for me, please?”

  “Hold on. I’ll see if he’s here in the deli.”

  “The deli?”

  “Yes, hold on a minute.” I put my hand over the receiver. “Is there a Brad Steel here?”

  No response. Maybe she should use the intercom. Where was the button? She looked around. Hmm. Not where it usually was. She put the phone back up to her ear.

  “I’m sorry. He doesn’t seem to be here.”

  “The hell with this. I don’t know who you are, but you need to forget everything I just told you.”

  “Of course. Have a wonderful day.” The deli owner’s daughter hung up the phone.

  But she wouldn’t forget. She’d just keep the information from Daphne.

  On the desk in front of her sat a crumpled note.

  Dear Brad Steel,

  * * *

  How important is it to you that your wife never find out what happened to her? How much are you willing to pay?

  * * *

  I’ll wait for your call.

  * * *

  A friend

  Hmm. Brad Steel. Daphne’s husband. Was the person who wrote this note the person who’d called? The deli owner’s daughter recited the names in her mind. She needed a mnemonic device.

  Nah. She’d remember. If she could remember the names of all the thirty-three different kinds of ham in the deli, she could remember three names.

  She tore the note into pieces and threw it in the wastebasket next to the desk.

  Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”

  Logic. Logic and a system. So much better than emotion.

  Where was she, anyway? Her father must have sent her on an errand to someone’s office.

  Maybe—

  She jerked at a baby’s cry.

  Chapter Three

  Brad

  “From what I can tell, none of Daphne’s personalities are violent to the point of harming another human being, though one does appear to be aggressive. It’s also unlikely that any one of them would do anything that her main personality wouldn’t do.”

  “Can you guarantee that?”

  “A doctor can’t guarantee anything, Mr. Steel.”

  “I can’t take the baby away from her. It would devastate her. She’s devoted to him.”

  “I don’t believe she’s capable of harming anyone, especially her child.”

  I heaved a sigh. “Thank God. I don’t either.”

  “I would caution against her being left alone, though.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know enough about these personalities to say for sure that Daphne won’t harm herself.”

  “Daphne would never leave me and the baby.”

  “No, Daphne wouldn’t, but I’m not sure about her alternates.”

  “Then we need to make sure she doesn’t dissociate.”

  “That’s what I’m working on,” he said. “But like I’ve already told you, I can’t guarantee anything. In the meantime, is there anyone else in the house?”

  “My mother, a housekeeper, and Daphne’s bodyguard.”

  “Good. The less she’s left alone, the better. At least until I have a handle on whether she’ll dissociate again. I’d like to continue to see her twice a week for now. I’ve already worked it out with Maryann to use her Snow Creek office. It’s important.”

  “Of course, and it goes without saying that you’ll be well compensated.”

  “I’ll settle for my normal rate and no more threats to my life.”

  I didn’t reply.

  I wanted to tell him yes. I wanted to tell him I’d pay him my entire fortune and never threaten him again as long as he helped my sweet Daphne.

  But I didn’t.

  Something inside me stopped me.

  The voice of my father? Intuition? My own voice?

  I wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll pay you what I feel is appropriate, Doctor. Nothing is more important to me than my wife and child. I want her whole. She deserves to live a wonderful life free from demons.”

  I ended the call.

  Perhaps I could ensure that Daphne would eventually be free from her demons.

  Unfortunately, I’d never be free from mine.

  I pulled into the large parking lot at Piney Oaks Mental Health Hospital in Grand Junction. Wendy had not yet been released, but she would be any day now. If I was going to ensure Daphne’s safety, I needed to talk to Wendy before she was free.

  I’d been here once before—during the night to check to make sure she was here and not out wreaking havoc somewhere. I’d found her asleep in her bed, alone. I’d searched her room to make sure she wasn’t hiding her drugs.

  I’d found nothing.

  Still, I had no doubt she’d been hiding something.

  Today, I went by the book. No sneaking in and greasing greedy night employees’ palms. I checked in at the front desk, signed in, and asked to see Wendy Madigan.

  “Looks like she’s unavailable at the moment,” the receptionist said.

  “Unavailable? Where the hell is she?”

  “Please don’t use that tone with me, sir.”

  “Sorry.” I should have been sorrier than I was. “Can you tell me where she is?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because medical records are private, sir.”

  I resisted an eye roll. Sure, they were private…until I came up with the right price. But I couldn’t do that right now in broad daylight. Besides, I’d get the information from Pelletier later.

  “Can you tell me when she’ll be available?”

  “In about thirty minutes. You may wait if you’d care to.”

  “Thank you. I will.”

  I took a seat in the lounge area and picked up a magazine. I leafed through it, not actually reading or even seeing any of it. A few moments l
ater, I set it back down on the table. I rose and walked to the water cooler, filled one of those paper cups that was pointed on the end, and drank it down. I tossed the oddly shaped cup in the trash can by the cooler.

  Then I paced.

  And I paced some more.

  I watched the clock on the wall, alternating between it and my watch.

  Until finally—

  “Sir?”

  I walked to the reception desk. “Yes?”

  “Ms. Madigan is available for a visit now, and she’s accepted your request. A nurse will be out to take you to the patients’ visitation lounge.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  This was it.

  I’d interact with Wendy for the first time since I’d witnessed her get committed against her will.

  My nerves jittered under my skin.

  I could handle Wendy. Indeed, I was the only one who could.

  But could I still?

  What would greet me in this visitation lounge?

  I didn’t know.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  But I had no choice. I had to see her. See for myself what was being released into society in a few days and also let her know that I expected her to stay the hell out of my wife’s life, my child’s life, and my life.

  I steeled my countenance.

  Wendy Madigan no longer had any hold on me. She hadn’t since I’d met Daphne.

  Today she’d learn the truth of that.

  Chapter Four

  Daphne

  What was I doing in Brad’s office? Had I lost time again?

  I shrugged. I forced the issue from my mind. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Jonah’s cry. My baby needed me.

  “I’m coming, little dove,” I said.

  My breasts tingled as they let down their milk. Just hearing my child’s cry made my milk release. I was used to it.

  I walked out of the office and down the hallway to the kitchen. Mazie held Jonah and attempted to comfort him.

  “There’s your mama,” she said. “I think he’s hungry. It’s a hungry cry.”

  I nodded. Definitely a hungry cry. I’d learned to distinguish his cries. Mazie was pretty good at it, but no one knew my baby like I did.

  “Hey, little dove,” I said, taking him. “My goodness you’re getting heavy.”

  “He’s a Steel, all right.” Mazie smiled. “Big stock. He’ll be big and broad just like his daddy.”

  “Yes, he will be.” Not a doubt in my mind. Jonah would be the spitting image of the man I adored.

  Brad Steel.

  How I loved him.

  I sighed as I walked down to the family room, sat down, and opened my blouse and bra. Jonah latched on eagerly.

  If only Brad were around more often.

  I was determined to be an understanding wife, not a needy one. The man I married was responsible for a multimillion-dollar ranch. A multimillion-dollar business. With the premature death of his father, the business took most of Brad’s time.

  Mazie followed me down and took a seat on the leather couch. “Did I hear the doorbell ring earlier?”

  I cocked my head. Sounded vaguely familiar. “Maybe. I don’t recall.”

  “Didn’t you answer it?”

  Had I? No. “No. Check with Belinda.”

  “She’s at the grocery store.”

  “Oh. Well, whoever it was must have gone away. If it was important, they’ll be back.”

  “Sure enough. I’m just a little jittery about the door lately, ever since…”

  Ever since we’d gotten a typewritten message in a Western Union envelope threatening the baby’s life. I was more than a little jittery myself.

  Two threats had come in when he was no more than a week old, but since then, nothing.

  No more threats.

  It seemed to be over, thank God.

  I had enough to worry about. My good friend Patty had left months ago to join the Peace Corps out of the blue, and her boyfriend, Ennis, had returned to his hometown of London to deal with his heartbreak. They were the only two friends I’d made during my short tenure at college, except for Brad’s friend Sean Murphy, who’d died at our wedding.

  What a start to married life.

  When I looked down at Jonah’s cherubic face, though, I knew my life was good. Yes, I’d suffered losses. So had Brad. But we had each other and our child.

  We’d be okay.

  Brad didn’t make it home for dinner. Belinda had prepared beef stew, one of his favorites. For a man who’d grown up with every privilege in life, Brad loved the simple things. Beef stew. A ride across the ranch on his horse. An afternoon rain shower. Picking a bouquet of wildflowers for me.

  He hadn’t done the latter in a while. He hadn’t been home to do it.

  It doesn’t matter, I told myself. Mazie’s greenhouse keeps us full of fresh blooms all the time.

  But the wildflowers weren’t what mattered to me. The fact that Brad picked them for me was.

  No reason to be unhappy, though. Not when I was nursing the most beautiful baby in the world.

  Little Joe was three months old now and thriving. He was off the charts in height and weight. He was a Steel, all right.

  Big and strong like his daddy.

  I loved the feeling of nursing him. My nipples had long since healed from the chapped pain nursing had caused at the beginning. Now, as he tugged, I felt only the pure joy a mother can feel when she’s providing for her child.

  Pure joy.

  I strived to find the joy in every day—a promise I’d made to myself after my junior year of high school when I’d been hospitalized for anxiety and depression. I loved the sun, Mazie’s yellow tulips, animals of all kinds…but mostly I loved my baby. It was a new kind of love—something beautiful I’d never imagined before he was born.

  I felt the most joy, of course, when Brad was here with me. Still, even though he was gone a lot of the time, I forced myself to find the joy in everything.

  Every single thing.

  Even the ominous note I’d gotten earlier.

  Ominous note? What ominous note?

  “Daphne?”

  “Yeah?” I said to Mazie.

  “Are you okay? You got kind of pale all of a sudden.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Had I lost time again? Why had I been in Brad’s office?

  No.

  No, no, no.

  I would not allow myself to lose time again. It had happened a few times at college, a few times since then, but recently, since Joe’s birth, I could account for every second.

  Until now.

  Why had I been in Brad’s office?

  He hadn’t said it was off limits, but I’d never gone in there before unless he was there. I must have had some reason—some reason that escaped me now.

  Jonah finished eating and nodded off to sleep. I put him down in the nursery and retraced my steps to Brad’s office.

  I’d been standing by his desk when I heard Jonah’s cry. That was when I realized where I was. But why had I been there in the first place?

  Mazie said the doorbell rang. Sounded sort of familiar. Had I been in the office when it rang?

  Think, Daphne, think!

  Why did I come in here?

  I scanned his desk. Nothing of interest to me. Then I looked around the office. Same as it always was. Well-kept, with a few file folders scattered around. Had I come in to look at one of the files?

  I perused them quickly. They all pertained to the ranch. That was Brad’s domain. I had no idea how to run a ranch, so I wouldn’t have been looking for any of that information.

  I sighed.

  If Brad were here, he’d hold me, kiss the top of my head, and tell me everything was fine. That he’d take care of us and there was no reason to worry.

  I worried anyway.

  Thank goodness I had a session with Dr. Pelletier tomorrow. Perhaps he could help me get to the bottom of this.

  Chapter Five

  Brad

  “Hello, Brad.”

  “Hello, Wendy.”

  “It’s nice to see you.”

  You too. The words didn’t come out, though. I couldn’t make them. Hell, I didn’t even try, to be honest. It wasn’t nice to see her. Not at all.