Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

quickly to it.
    At first neither of us saw Patricia Compton sitting there. She was perfectly still and wore a white cotton dress that matched the silk drapes over the window behind her so that she blended into the room. All of the furniture was done in light-colored silk. To our right was a curio case at least eight feet tall containing dozens of precious figurines: glass figures of animals, hand-painted Chinese men and women, and hand-painted figures of children with mothers or with animals.
    Because the room looked so immaculate and so unused, both Jimmy and I hesitated to step in. It was like entering a pretty painting. Then I saw Patricia sitting there on the sofa, her dark eyes wide, her long, thin mouth drooping at the corners. She looked like a sad clown at the circus.
    "Go on in and sit down," Sanford Compton ordered as he walked in past us and took a seat in one of the wing-back chairs, crossing his long legs. Jimmy and I moved toward the settee. "This is my wife Patricia," Sanford said, barely nodding toward her. A tiny smile came and went on pale lips that seemed to have forgotten how to smile. She said nothing, not even mouthing a hello.
    "Hello," I said, and I smiled. Mrs. Compton did not take her eyes off us, eyes that resembled dark pools in a forest, deep, melancholy eyes, wells for tears. Her entire face looked like a nest for sadness. She was very slim, fragile and delicate-looking. I saw that she had long, lean fingers. She kept her hands clasped tightly together in her lap and sat with her back so straight it seemed she was on an invisible hanger. She swallowed nervously, her gaze glued on us.
    She had very light blond hair, so light it was nearly white, I thought, and it was pinned up softly.
    "We've come for my daughter Christie," I said quickly. I came right to the point in order to break the ice. The moment I mentioned "my daughter," Mrs. Compton moaned, her right hand lifting and fluttering to the base of her neck.
    "Easy," Sanford Compton said without turning to her. His eyes were fixed firmly on Jimmy and me.
    "This is quite outrageous," he finally said.
    "Pardon?" I looked at Jimmy, who sat up firmly, his shoulders back in military posture. "Mr. Updike spoke to you, didn't he?"
    "We received a phone call from your grandmother's attorney, yes," Sanford Compton replied. "Why didn't your grandmother call us herself?" he demanded.
    "My grandmother passed away. Unexpectedly," I added.
    "Oh, dear," Mrs. Compton said. With her left hand she brought a lace handkerchief to her eyes. She had been clutching it so tightly in her hands, I hadn't seen it before.
    "Don't start," Sanford Compton snapped under his breath. Patricia Compton stifled her sob by pressing her lips in and holding her breath. Her fragile shoulders lifted and fell, but she kept her back straight, her small bosom barely outlined in the bodice of her dress.
    "Now, then," Sanford continued, "we went through all the legal procedures. We signed papers, and signed papers were given to us. We did nothing wrong; everything we did was on the up and up."
    "I understand that, sir," I said. My heart had begun to thump against my chest, shortening my breath. "But Mr. Updike must have explained the circumstances."
    "We understood the baby was born out of wedlock," he quickly responded, a clear tone of accusation in his voice. "And it was an embarrassment to the Cutler family."
    "She wasn't an embarrassment to me," I shot back. "Only to my grandmother."
    "What's the difference?" Jimmy piped up. "It's her baby," he added, his hands out, palms turned up.
    "Whose baby it is remains to be seen," Sanford Compton replied.
    "What?" My mouth gaped open, and I sat forward. "You mean you don't have Christie ready for us to take home?"
    "Christie's name has been changed to Violet. She's been named after my mother, and Violet," he said, punctuating the name sharply, "is home."
    "Oh, no," I cried, turning to Jimmy. This couldn't be happening! I couldn't lose Christie. Not again! Especially not after finally finding her!
    "Wait a minute," Jimmy said in a controlled voice. "Are you telling us that you won't give Dawn her baby back?"
    "We did what we were supposed to do legally. Babies are not toys," Sanford Compton lectured. "They're not things you give and take back, things you exchange lightly. Violet has a home here now, a home in which she is loved and cherished, a home in which she will grow happily and have all the best things life has to offer. You can't