The Christmas Vigil Page 5

  A slight frown marred the smooth skin of his forehead. “What’s he calling about?”

  “It’s your father. He’s in the hospital.”

  Declan half sat, coming fully awake. “In the hospital? Is he all right?”

  “No, darling. I’m…I’m afraid he’s not.”

  * * *

  By the time Chloe finished telling Declan what she knew, he’d dressed and packed an overnight bag. A quick text to Clayton about his flight details and Declan managed to secure a seat on the same plane to Sydney with a connection to Grafton. He kept himself occupied with the minutiae of leaving in an emergency, including a phone call to his boss, Gary Julian, to request the time off.

  Throughout his preparations, he did his best to come to terms with the news that his father was critically ill. The fact that a brain aneurysm had ruptured was frightening. That he’d been in a coma since they’d found him, even more so.

  Chloe watched him make his arrangements, her expression full of sadness and concern. She’d offered to come with him, but hanging around a hospital room with a toddler was no fun for anyone. He was glad she hadn’t delayed telling him, even if he desperately needed to rest. He’d been pulling unbelievably long hours at work, buried so deep within the belly of his current investigation that he barely had time to come up for air—but he needed to be with his family more. It was as simple as that.

  He looked around for his phone, intent on calling his mother and spied it on the coffee table in the living room. She’d be crazy with worry for his dad. The two of them were inseparable. He couldn’t imagine how she’d cope without him by her side.

  Scrolling through his contacts, he found his mother’s number and listened impatiently while the call dialed out. Chloe came into the room and leaned against the door frame with her arms loosely folded across her chest. He looked up at her and his heart warmed at the love and support in her gaze.

  He thought of his father lying near death in the hospital and his heart went out once again to his mother. If anything ever happened to Chloe, he was certain, beyond a doubt, his life would fragment into pieces and he’d never be able to put them back together.

  His mother’s pre-recorded message sounded in his ear. He sighed quietly, knowing she probably had her phone on silent or even switched off in deference to the rules of the hospital. No doubt she was glued to his father’s side. He felt a fleeting moment of pity for the nursing staff that might have the temerity to suggest she take a break and leave off her vigil.

  He left a brief message, letting his mother know he was on his way, and then ended the call. Chloe stepped nearer and slipped her arms around his waist. He took her in his arms and leaned his chin against her hair, taking comfort from the familiar scent of her shampoo.

  He missed her already.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Marguerite

  Grafton, New South Wales

  From her position on the wooden bench that stood on the banks of the Clarence River where she’d escaped to after leaving her husband’s side, Marguerite stared across the wide expanse of water and brushed away her tears. She still couldn’t believe what had happened.

  Even her years of nursing experience hadn’t prepared her for the shocking sight of Duncan, usually so vibrant and full of life, lying so still and deathly pale in the ICU. It was always different when the patient was someone you loved. It had been the same when her daughter, Josie, had badly broken her leg.

  The sudden departure of a pelican lifting up and over the water momentarily captured Marguerite’s attention. She watched its graceful progress along the river, its wings stretched far out wide. It was joined by another one and they flew together, proud and majestic, and eventually disappeared from view.

  She sighed and her troubled thoughts circled back to Duncan. She could tell that Riley was struggling to reconcile what had been found in the hotel room with the father he knew. She could understand his confusion. She was perplexed, too. In her heart, she was certain Duncan hadn’t been cheating on her, but her head kept doing its best to override it.

  She’d been married to him for forty years. She knew him as well as she knew herself. With every fiber of her being, she refused to believe he’d been unfaithful. And yet there was the lingerie, and the candles, the oils, the lubricant, the rose, the champagne in an ice bucket on a tray that held two glasses…

  Her husband had been expecting a woman—a woman he intended to have sex with and as far as she knew, that woman wasn’t her. Though she steeled herself against it, the thought of his betrayal cut deep. The last time she’d seen him, had only been that morning. He’d been in the garden, admiring the bountiful crop of roses. She’d waved at him from the kitchen window and he’d cheerfully returned her greeting. She’d even seen him snip off a large, red bud and hold it up to his nose, breathing in its heady fragrance. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same rose that had been found in the hotel room.

  A fresh wave of tears burned behind her eyes. She leaned forward until she was on the edge of the bench where she’d taken refuge. Resting her head in her hands, she breathed through the pain. There were facts and then there was knowledge. She knew her husband. He would die before he cheated on her. It was as simple as that. There had to be another explanation.

  She’d given him her love and her loyalty for more than forty years and he’d reciprocated in kind. Now he was gravely ill, perhaps even dying. She’d continue to show him the loyalty he deserved until he was well enough to explain what had happened and how he’d come to find himself in such a compromising situation. They’d laugh about it and then even cry at how lucky they were that he’d pulled through and had lived to tell them about it.

  Sitting upright, she brushed at the tears on her cheeks and drew in a deep breath. It did no one any good to sit around moping—least of all, Duncan. He needed her love and he needed her support. It was thought that many patients in a coma could still hear things around them, were still aware of their environment. She needed to pull herself together and get back there, to the hospital. To her husband.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tom

  Sydney, New South Wales

  Detective Sergeant Tom Munro leaned back in his chair and glanced at the clock on the far wall of the squad room. A couple of hours to go and he’d be out of there. It had been a quiet day. He and his fellow police negotiator, Andy Warwick, had filled the day completing paperwork and catching up on the humdrum of other less-important activities that got pushed aside whenever a call came in for their help.

  He glanced at Andy where he sat at his desk not more than three or four feet away and noticed he was playing Solitaire on his computer.

  “What are you up to for Christmas, Andy? Got any plans?”

  Andy looked over at him and shrugged. “I’m not sure what Cally has planned. She’s talking about going back to Watervale and spending a few days with Kate.”

  “That’s right. I forgot she went to school with Riley’s wife. How often do they catch up?”

  “Not as often as they’d like. Cally’s never keen to visit in case she runs into her father. They reconciled when Grace was born, but their relationship is still rather strained. She prefers to avoid him if she can. Kate and Riley came down to Sydney for Grace’s baptism and they caught up then.”

  “Of course. I forgot about the baptism. That was only a couple of weeks ago, wasn’t it? Lily and I were out of town, so we missed seeing them.”

  Andy grinned. “Yeah, it was a shame. We had a great day. Unfortunately, Cally couldn’t change the date. I think she booked it in about a minute after Grace was born. She was determined to get our daughter christened while she could still fit into Jack’s christening gown. It had been made by her Aunt Mary while Cally was still pregnant. Because Mary died when Jack was eight the gown holds enormous significance.” He shrugged. “It didn’t matter to me. I only want to see her happy.”

  Tom nodded, his expression thoughtful. “She’s been good for you,
mate. It wasn’t even a year ago that your life was more than a struggle. Now it seems like you can’t keep the smile off your face.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that,” Andy said. “I can barely remember the dark days before I met her and yet I’d lived more than two decades with the ghosts of my childhood.” A fierce glint entered his gaze. “I swear to God my kids will never know a day of unhappiness. Not if I can help it.”

  Tom’s face filled with understanding. “How are they?”

  Andy chuckled. “Jack’s turning eleven this January and is smart and cheeky and fun. Gracie’s already six weeks old. Time sure gets away, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does. It seems like only yesterday Lily and I were bringing our kids home from the hospital, but Cassie’s going on for sixteen and Joe’s just become a teenager. You wait until you have teens in the house, Andy. You’ll be pulling your hair out.”

  Andy grinned and Tom could tell he thought Tom was exaggerating. He grimaced and bit his lip. If only…

  The shrill peal of the phone on his desk interrupted his unsettled thoughts. He reached across and answered it. “Tom Munro.”

  “Tom, thank Christ I got hold of you. I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour.”

  “Really? What’s up, Declan?”

  “I take it you haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  The silence on the other end of the phone was long enough to give Tom pause. He straightened in his chair. “Declan? What’s going on?”

  “It’s Dad. He’s not good. He’s in hospital in Grafton. From what I’ve been told, at the moment, it’s touch and go.”

  “Shit. What happened?”

  Declan recounted what he knew and Tom shook his head back and forth in shock and disbelief. “Christ. How’s Mom taking it? Have you spoken to her?”

  “No, I tried to call her a little while ago, but I only got her voicemail. She probably has her phone switched off.”

  “Does everyone else know?”

  “I’m not sure. Brandon called me and Clayton told him. I’m assuming Riley was the one who called Clay, given that Riley’s living the closest to Mom and Dad. Clay said Riley’s been at the hospital all afternoon.”

  Tom ran a hand over his face and grimaced, trying to sort through his tangle of thoughts. Right now, Lily was at home with Cassie and Joe, but she was supposed to be attending her best friend’s bridal shower later that evening. As the matron of honor, it was important that she be there. She intended to leave for the party as soon as Tom arrived home.

  Cassie was expecting him to drive her up to Avalon, where she was staying with a handful of her girlfriends. They’d arranged to have an end-of-year send off for a couple of girls who were leaving high school. She’d been nagging him about it for more than a week, insisting he be home in plenty of time. And then there was Joe’s end-of-year school play.

  For once, he’d been given the lead role and he couldn’t wait for his family to witness his prowess on the stage. It was all he’d talked about for nearly a month. The play was set for tomorrow night. Tom had promised his son he’d be there. He’d arranged to have the time off, but if he had to be in Grafton…

  Then there was that doctor’s appointment the day after that; the one he kept putting off. Not to mention the pile of invitations to Christmas parties both he and Lily had accepted. One of them was his office party.

  Knowing Christmas was less than a week away sent a surge of anxiety rushing through him. What if his father were still in hospital at Christmas? It would be downright shitty for all of them to have to celebrate the day with the knowledge that their much-loved patriarch was lying sick in the ICU. The very thought was beyond depressing.

  He clutched at his hair and groaned. There was nothing for it. He had to go. He had to be there for his mother and his father—not to mention his brothers and sisters. He was the oldest in the family. He had no choice. It was during times like this, times of family crises, when he felt the weight of their expectations the most—and he’d never let them down.

  The memory of his mother’s brush with breast cancer a few years earlier flashed through his mind. His father had been a mess, unable to bear the sight of his wife, gaunt and pale, vomiting and in pain, as the deadly dose of chemicals poured into her veins in an effort to kill the tumor that had taken up residence in her chest. The family had turned to Tom, their oldest brother, to take the lead and show them the way out of the pain and shock and numbness of knowing the treatment might not work. He’d risen to the occasion without hesitation. That was why he would walk away from all of his daily obligations, his commitments, all the ties he had to normal life and go to them.

  “Tom? Hey, Tom? Are you all right?”

  Tom blinked and shook his head, becoming aware of the increasing urgency in Andy’s voice. He looked across at his friend and work colleague and attempted a strained smile.

  “I-I don’t know. I don’t think so. M-my father’s been rushed to hospital. He’s in the ICU. They’re not sure if he’s going to live.”

  “Oh, mate, that’s bloody awful. You have to get out of here. You have to go and see him. Where does he live?”

  “Grafton.”

  “At least you can get a direct flight from Sydney. What can I do to help?”

  “Thanks, Andy. I appreciate your offer. I-I’m not sure if there’s anything you can do. I’m not even sure what to do.”

  “Call Lily. That’s what you need to do.”

  Tom nodded. “You’re right. I need to call Lily. She’ll know what to do.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Josie and Chanel

  Brisbane, Queensland

  Marguerite had almost made it back to the hospital when her cell phone rang. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to listen to the countless messages that had been left during the time since she’d been in the ICU. No doubt Riley had called his brothers and sisters. Even now, they were more than likely making plans to come and see their father and to be with her and offer their comfort.

  Not that she begrudged them their actions. She loved that they cared enough to come. She just didn’t know how she was going to face them, knowing what they knew. They thought their father hung the moon and the stars. It had always been that way. Now, some of them were probably questioning their faith in the man they called Dad. The very thought that their loyalties might be tested filled her with sadness. They didn’t know him like she did. They didn’t know it couldn’t possibly be true. All she could do was try and convince them to ignore what the evidence implied and trust her and her unshakable belief in their father.

  She sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy. All five of her sons were in law enforcement. They’d been trained to look at the evidence and draw logical conclusions from it. They’d struggle more than her daughters with what had happened. Tugging her phone out of her handbag, she checked the Caller ID and her heart clenched.

  Chanel. Of all her children, her youngest would be affected the least by the evidence at the scene. She’d grown up as Duncan’s little girl. There was nothing anyone could say or do to make her think badly of the man she still called Daddy. Marguerite was grateful for her daughter’s fierce loyalty. She was going to need her support.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she answered the call. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

  “Mom, how’s it going? I have you on speakerphone. Josie’s here, too. She’s just come home from work.”

  “Hi, Mom. I’m waving from the other side of the room.”

  Marguerite heard the laughter in Josie’s greeting and bit her lip against the surge of emotion that threatened to undo her. From the light-hearted tone in her daughters’ voices, it was clear neither of them knew. She drew in a breath and did her best to sound normal. “H-hi, girls. It’s… It’s good to hear from you.”

  “What’s wrong, Mom? You sound…funny,” Chanel asked.

  “N-nothing. I mean…” Her spurt of bravado dissolved. The last few hours had caught up with
her. Fresh tears burned behind her eyes and emotion clogged her throat.

  “What is it, Mom? What’s happened?” asked Josie, her tone quickly sobering.

  With faltering breaths and broken sentences, Marguerite choked out the news as best she could. While she made mention of the hotel room and the fact he may have been expecting a woman, she spared them all but the barest of details. When at last she was finished, she was met with shocked silence.

  “How could he?” cried Josie.

  “I won’t believe it!” shouted Chanel.

  The girls spoke over the top of each other, getting increasingly louder in their protestations and denials until Marguerite was forced to hold the phone away from her ear. She understood how they felt. She was still reeling from the news and she’d had a few hours to get used to it. At last, they seemed to realize she was no longer responding and fell silent.

  “Mom, are you okay?” Josie asked, her voice low and shaky.

  “Yes, sweetheart. I’m okay. I’m fine. I-I guess I’m in shock a little, too, like you, but I’m fine. It’s your father I’m worried about.”

  “I’m on my way, Mom. I don’t know about Josie, but I’m driving down there as soon as I can throw a few things in my bag.”

  “I-I’ll call my office and explain that Dad’s sick,” Josie added quickly. “I’m sure they’ll let me take some time off. I’ll come down with Chanel. We can share the driving.”

  A surge of relief flooded through Marguerite. As much as she’d dreaded her children’s reactions, she couldn’t deny she was thankful they would be with her soon. Right now, she needed her family around her. She needed to draw strength from their numbers, from their support and from their unconditional love.

  “Okay, darlings. Please, drive safely. I’ll see you soon.”

  With a chorus of solemn good-byes, the girls ended the call. Marguerite sighed. It would take them three or four hours to drive down from Brisbane, depending upon how often they stopped for rest breaks. She expected to see them later that evening. As soon as she’d visited with Duncan again, she’d go home and make up the beds in at least a couple of the spare rooms. It was likely her daughters would stay with her. They normally did.