The Atonement Child Read Free Page B

relationship to heart. She also knew he had been brought up in a conservative denomination who showed their zeal in other ways. His parents, like her mother and father, were deeply involved in community action and charities.
    She and Charlie talked about all manner of things. He had been driving a Middleton city bus since before she was born and had learned a lot about human nature. He didn’t mind sharing what he knew.
    Tonight, Mr. Packard was on Dynah’s mind.
    “I know the Packards,” Charlie said. “He and his wife used to get on the bus every Tuesday and ride it to the end of the line. Good people. I read she passed on. Too bad. She was a nice lady.”
    “Maybe I could tell him you miss seeing him.”
    “You do that, girl. Maybe I’ll drop by and see him myself. Between the two of us, we might get him out of his apartment and back among the living.” He brought the bus close to the curb and slowed to a stop at the corner of Henderson.
    “Thanks, Charlie.”
    “You watch yourself, girl.”
    “I will.”
    “Tell Mr. Packard I have a front seat saved for him,” he said and hit the button. The doors swished closed, and he gave her a wave through the glass.
    Dynah waved back and watched as the bus pulled away from the curb. Adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag, she started the walk to campus.
    Henderson Avenue was a long, pretty street with old-growth maples and neat brick houses with snow-covered lawns. In the city park located a block south of the campus was a small community center building used by students interning as youth leaders and teachers. In two years, she would be working there. The center housed a daily preschool program in the morning and youth activities through the afternoon every day of the week except Sunday, when everything in town shut down for worship services. Only a few businesses, mostly nationwide chains, stayed open.
    As Dynah came abreast of the park, she paused, frowning. The car with the Massachusetts plates was there, just across the street, parked beyond a cobblestone driveway beneath a canopy of winter-bare branches. She peered at the vehicle, anxious, then noticed with relief that no one sat in the driver’s seat. The man must have found his brother after all. He had said he lived not far from the campus.
    A twig snapped to the right, and her nerves jumped. She turned and saw a tall, dark shape moving toward her. A man.
    Every instinct screamed, “Run!” but surprise made her hesitate—and within a few seconds she knew she had made a terrible mistake. A couple of seconds. That’s all it took for the man to have a hold on her.

    Purdy Whitehall received the call at Middleton Police Department at 10:37 Wednesday evening, January 8. It had been a quiet evening with only one complaint, about a party disturbing the peace. Sergeant Don Ferguson had reported a few minutes earlier that it was nothing more than a bunch of baby boomers feeling nostalgic and singing to Elvis records.
    This call was altogether different.
    “Someone’s screaming in the park,” a woman said. “Come quick, please! Someone’s screaming!”
    The caller’s telephone number came up on Purdy’s computer screen along with the address. Henderson Avenue. Speaking with a trained calmness, she assured the woman help would be coming and put her on hold in order to dispatch a squad car to the location.
    Frank Lawson was just pulling up to Ernie’s Diner on Sixteenth for a badly needed coffee break when his radio crackled with the message. Muttering under his breath, he rapped the radio sharply and picked up the speaker. Depressing the button, he identified himself and his car number. “My radio’s having PMS again, Purdy. Repeat the message.”
    “There’s a disturbance at the park on Henderson Avenue, Frank. How close are you?”
    “Ten blocks. I’m on my way.” Putting the speaker back, he swung the squad car in a sharp U-turn and hit his flashing red lights. Few cars were on the road at this time