Free The Triumph of Katie Byrne by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page B

Looking at his drawn face, shadowed by worry, she felt a fleeting pang of guilt. When Michael had arrived home with Katie and Niall in tow, a short while ago, she had insisted they eat before going to the hospital, and would brook no argument. ‘You need something warm inside you, some food to keep up your strength,’ she had pointed out, immediately serving the stew.
    At first, Michael demurred. He had wanted to drive them over to New Milford at once, without further delay, and Katie had agreed; Maureen had managed to persuade them to eat first. But he was right, she acknowledged to herself now. The food hadn’t interested anyone, least of all herself, and in the end they had wasted valuable time hanging around the kitchen looking morose.
    ‘I’m sorry, Michael, I was wrong. I should have listened to you earlier,’ Maureen murmured. ‘Forcing food on all of you was silly, was of no purpose. And if I hadn’t done so we could have been there by now.’
    Michael got to his feet, and his response was a quick, warm smile. Then gently he led her out to the back hall to get her coat.
    Maureen sniffed the cold air, walking along with Michael to the jeep, which Niall had parked outside the garage. She lifted her head and looked up at the ink-black sky, sparsely littered with but a few misty stars tonight, and felt the first drops of cold rain on her upturned face.
    Michael helped her into the back seat, where she usually sat with Katie and Fin, and just as he was closing the door a flash of bright white lightning streaked through the sky, and thunder rumbled far away, like distant cannons poised in the heavens.
    ‘There’s a storm brewing,’ she said to Michael, once he was settled in the driver’s seat, and she shivered and drew her quilted coat around her slender body.
    Looking at her over his shoulder, Michael replied, ‘I guess so, honey. But we must stop by the Matthewses’ after we’ve been to the hospital, storm or no storm. They must be devastated, and I’m only sorry I couldn’t get them on the phone earlier.’ He wanted to help them in whatever way he could.
    ‘Perhaps Peter and Lois are at Ted’s, you know howclose they are,’ Maureen ventured, and then she stopped abruptly as the door opened and first Katie, and then Fin, scrambled into the jeep. Maureen slid along the seat to make room for them, and once Niall had jumped inside next to his father in the front, Michael turned on the ignition and backed out of the drive.
    Katie immediately bunched up to her mother, and put her arm through hers, wanting the comfort and security of her closeness.
    Maureen was well aware of Katie’s neediness tonight, and it was understandable. All of the girl’s defences were down, and she was still in shock, vulnerable and hurting, and wanting to be with her parents, her mother in particular.
    No one spoke.
    Michael drove towards New Preston and lovely little Lake Waramaug, heading for Route 202 which would take them directly to New Milford and the hospital.
    Usually when they were in the jeep together they chattered and laughed, told silly jokes, and sometimes they sang their favourite songs, for they were all musically talented. Niall, in particular, had a wonderful voice that made every one of them stop singing the instant he opened his mouth, so they could listen to him. Fin said Niall had missed his way and ought to be in musicals, or a pop star, but they just laughed at Fin, most especially Niall.
    But this evening the jeep was quiet and sad, the baleful silence engendered by shock and worry. And fear, of course, on Maureen’s part. She knew, deep down within herself, that she was terribly afraid for Katie’s safety, although she had not voiced this to Michael, nor to Katie herself, as yet.
    Maureen Byrne was nobody’s fool, and she knew there was a deadly killer out there, on the loose. Perhaps he was some kind of madman, a psycho.
    And how did they know that this psycho wouldn’t seek out Katie next?