by Webb, Debra
The tears in her voice make me smile. “I wish it had killed him.”
She jams the muzzle of the gun in my chest. “What did you say?”
“I said I wished the accident had killed him.”
One endless second of nothing but the high-pitched whistle of the kettle hangs in the air between us.
“Mallory.”
The male voice—one I would recognize anywhere—snaps my attention across the room.
Jake.
The priest is standing just inside the backdoor. Where did he come from?
“Father Barnes,” Mallory says, the pressure of the muzzle against my chest lessening ever so slightly as she stares at him, goggle-eyed.
“Mallory, the police are on the way,” he says gently. “You should give me the gun now so we can clear all this up without any trouble.”
She blinks, once, twice and the muzzle draws away an inch.
I duck, simultaneously shoving her arms upward.
The weapon discharges.
I hit the floor.
Another bullet explodes from the gun.
Mallory is screaming, a macabre harmony with the kettle’s screeching.
I dare to move.
Jake has her pinned to the floor. The gun is lying in the middle of the room.
“Unlock the front door,” Jake orders. “The police will be here any second.”
I do as he asks. When I return to the kitchen. He and Mallory are sitting in the floor. She is curled in a fetal position against the cabinets, he sits at an angle in front of her, ensuring she doesn’t try to take off, I presume. I turn off the stove, the whistling kettle fizzles out.
I pick up the gun and crouch down in front of them. I hold it, muzzle down, but I want Mallory to see that I have it. “Who buried their bodies?”
She stares at the floor, bawling like a cow.
I look Jake in the eye. “Go watch for the police.”
“Emma, you’re upset, you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Go to the freaking porch and wait,” I shout.
He shakes his head. “No.”
“Then watch.” I ram the muzzle of the gun into her chest. She grunts and whimpers some more. “What happened to Natalie and Stacy after you hit them on the head with the goddamned baseball bat?”
She lifts her watery gaze to mine. “I went to visit them a few times. Took their backpacks to Matt’s secret place. I knew that’s what he would want me to do. Eventually, I knew Lorraine would figure it all out because they started to stink.”
Every ounce of willpower I possess is necessary to keep me from pulling the trigger.
“I hid in the woods every day after school to watch so I could tell Matt what his bitch wife did. I knew he would need me more than ever when he came home.”
“What did you see?” My body starts to shake and I struggle to hold my position. I am grateful Jake keeps his mouth shut. I cannot bring myself to look at him.
“Lorraine and Mark stuffed them into plastic bags and loaded them into the truck the grounds keeper used. I didn’t know where they went from there until those cavers found the bones.”
I hear the sirens outside. I stand and walk to the front door, the weapon hanging from my hand.
Letty is the first to reach the door. She takes the weapon from me and I collapse against her. “It was Mallory. She used a baseball bat,” I say. “Lorraine and Mark buried the bodies.”
Letty hugs me hard then turns me over to Jake.
I watch as Mallory is escorted from the house.
When I can speak without sobbing, I look up at this priest my mother adores and who shares many of my own struggles. “I won’t ask how you knew to come but thank you. Things might have ended very differently if you hadn’t shown up.”
He smiles and I understand at that moment why Helen adores him. He really is a good man and a good priest.
“I promised I’d be watching out for you.”
I nod. “I guess my mother was right.”
“How’s that?”
“She said I had a guardian angel.”
36
Monday, May 21
The funeral Mass was beautiful. If I heard the statement once, I heard it a hundred times. Jake’s eulogy was perfect. The gathering of friends after the burial was long and I am exhausted. Letty and her mother refuse to go home until they’ve cleaned everything up. They insisted Helen and I get out of their way. So we sit on the porch swing listening to the quiet of the evening.
“As soon as Lorraine heard Mallory had been found she was ready to cut a deal.” Helen sighs. “She’s taking the brunt of the charges so her son gets off a little easier. He’s back in rehab anyway. You would have loved seeing Ginny in action. We had decided to go home when they came out of that interrogation room. Letty had already told us Lorraine had confessed to taking James’s dog tags and all the rest. I guess the good Lord wanted Ginny to have a little revenge because we were suddenly all in the corridor together. Ginny slapped Lorraine’s face. Smack! Then we walked away.”
“Good for her.”
I feel relief and an odd sort of sadness. We know the whole truth now. My nightmares have disappeared. I feel stronger than I have in ages. There’s nothing left to do but get back to my life.
But I do have a couple of questions for Helen.
“Mom, I…” It doesn’t seem fair to question her actions or her motives so I shut my mouth.
She looks at me. “Ask whatever you like.”
“You had an affair with Mr. Wallace.”
She nods. “It was an accident. A one-time thing. I was utterly heartbroken and Andrew was completely focused on helping you deal with the loss of your sister. I was obsessed with getting posters out there hoping that someone had seen the girls. It felt like Andrew and I were miles apart. I needed to be supportive of Ginny and yet I couldn’t be the friend I should be any more than I could be a proper wife to Andrew or a good mother to you.”
She stares off into the distance for a moment. “Glenn’s wife was going through the change and was suddenly uninterested in intimacy. We were just both in a bad place. I went to him, hoping he could tell me what more I could do to try and find Natalie. Claiborne had long since run out of patience with me. It was a moment—a single moment and a painful mistake. I asked Glenn to keep our secret and he did. The last thing I wanted was for it to get around town and hurt my family.”
She falls silent, shakes her head. I wait for her to continue.
“I had no idea Lorraine had spies everywhere even then. Apparently, someone had seen us together that one time. Lorraine tucked the information away and then held it over Glenn’s head when the dog tags were found in that cave. He never said a word to me, but after he signed that statement for Claiborne, I knew something was wrong. Glenn was an honorable man, so I went to him for an explanation. He told me what Lorraine had threatened, and I released him from the promise he made me all those years ago.”
Wow. “Did Dad ever know?”
“I could never keep that from him.” She smiles sadly. “When you love someone as much as your father and I loved each other, you share everything. I told Andrew and he forgave me.”
“You never told me about the baby.”
She doesn’t look surprised that I figured out her secret. “It was too painful to talk about on top of everything else. I didn’t want you to have to deal with anything more. I’ve spent years wondering if God punished me for not having faith.”
“Mother.”
“I know.” She nods. “I was not in a good place.”
I drape my arm around her. “Who would’ve been? You showed amazing strength considering.”
She smiles at me. Takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “I’m not the only strong woman in this family.”
“I don’t know if I’m as strong as you think.” I sigh. It’s time to come clean. “I had a little meltdown about three weeks ago.”
“I know.”
I turn to her. “You do?
How?” I am certain Letty would never betray my confidence.
“The hospital called me. I rushed to Boston but the doctor explained that you didn’t want anyone to know so I came home. I figured when you were ready to tell me, you would.”
Guilt piles on my shoulders. “I hope that didn’t have anything to do with your heart attack?”
“Please.” She pooh-poohs the idea. “Bad genes. My mother had at least three heart attacks before she checked out. So don’t worry, I’ve got a couple to go.”
I shake my head. “You are a mess, do you know that?”
We laugh and sit quietly for a moment. The breeze feels good and the lull of the slowly moving swing is so relaxing. I could sit right here forever.
“I wish Dad had lived to be here.” My heart aches that he isn’t. “To know the truth and to see justice done.”
“The night he died,” Helen says, “I told him the secret I had kept for Ginny. I didn’t want him to go to his grave not knowing the truth.”
“He understood?” Toward the end his lucid moments were few and far between.
“He did. He told me to thank Ginny for whatever part she played in that bastard Matthew Beaumont getting his.”
A smile stretches across my lips. “Good.”
Letty and her mom appear wielding a tray of lemonade and tea cakes. Letty places the tray on the table between the chairs facing the swing.
“It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” Ginny explains. She passes each of us a napkin and then a fluffy palm size cake. “The way tea cakes were meant to be.”
Letty pours the lemonade. “And this,” she says as she passes each of us a glass, “is Helen’s secret recipe.” She winks. “It was already prepared and waiting in the back of the fridge.”
We laugh and enjoy the sweet cakes and the pungent sour of the lemonade.
In all my years away I have forgotten how calming and serene it is to simply sit on the porch swing and enjoy a homemade treat and good friends. Somehow in the past fifteen years I lost my ability to touch this place inside me—this special place I remember as a child.
I think of Natalie dancing around on the front porch at the farm as we all sipped sweet tea or lemonade and applauded. I wanted to be just like her. She was beautiful and perfect and the kind of person all young women should aspire to be. She lost her life trying to help her friend and to save other girls from what Stacy and so many others had suffered. My sister died a hero.
Tears well in my eyes and I blink them away.
I lift my glass. “To Natalie.”
“To Natalie,” the others repeat as our glasses clink.
Helen lifts her glass. “And to the strongest women I know.”
“Hear, hear,” I agree and tap my glass to hers.
I look around me at the beautiful and stunningly strong women I love so deeply and I realize how very lucky I am.
For a time we enjoy the quiet and the feeling of contentment.
“I spoke to Judge Gaines before he left this evening,” Letty says. “You remember him, Emma? Albert Gaines? We went to school with his son Allen.”
“Yes, I remember him. Allen was the big basketball star during high school.”
Letty grins. “He’s a lawyer in Birmingham now. Making the big bucks from what I hear.”
“I hear he has a husband,” Helen says. “A very handsome husband.”
“Good for him,” I say.
“Anyway,” Letty goes on, “Judge Gaines asked if I had any recommendations for Wallace’s replacement.”
Helen says, “The coroner’s position is an elected position, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Ginny agrees, “but when a sitting coroner has to vacate his office in the middle of a term, the judge can appoint a replacement to fulfill the term.”
I smell a set-up. “What’re you three up to?”
“I recommended you,” Letty says.
“Letty.” I am torn between being honored and wholly frustrated.
“You seem to be undecided about where you want to go career wise at the moment. I figure you can fill in here until you decide what you want to do next.”
“I could use the company,” Helen adds, “after my heart attack and all.”
“Right.” I roll my eyes. “I think you’re doing just fine, Mother.”
“Maybe you can help Letty find a husband and make me some grandbabies.”
Letty glares at her mother.
I laugh. “I’m afraid that would be like the blind leading the blind, Ginny.”
“Will you stay for a while, Emma?” Letty asks.
I meet my dear friend’s gaze. The truth is I don’t know what I want to do next. Boston has sort of lost its appeal for me.
Why the hell not?
I turn to Mother. “Do you actually believe you can put up with me? I can be a pain in the ass sometimes. I like my solitude and I’ve been known to be grumpy.”
“I would love having you home for however long you want to stay.”
How can I say no? I look to Letty. “I accept.”
Helen kisses my cheek, and for the first time in a very long time I am so glad to be right here.
I hate to sound cliché, but there truly is no place like home.
About the Author
I hope you enjoyed my story! Please follow me on Amazon!
DEBRA WEBB is the USA Today bestselling author of more than 150 novels, including reader favorites the Faces of Evil, the Colby Agency and the Shades of Death series. She is the recipient of the prestigious Romantic Times Career Achievement Award for Romantic Suspense as well as numerous Reviewers Choice Awards. In 2012 Debra was honored as the first recipient of the esteemed L. A. Banks Warrior Woman Award for her courage, strength, and grace in the face of adversity. Recently Debra was awarded the distinguished Centennial Award for having achieved publication of her 100th novel. With this award Debra joined the ranks of a handful of authors like Nora Roberts and Carole Mortimer.
With more than four million books sold in numerous languages and countries, Debra’s love of storytelling goes back to her childhood when her mother bought her an old typewriter in a tag sale. Born in Alabama, Debra grew up on a farm and spent every available hour exploring the world around her and creating her stories. She wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the Commanding General of the US Army in Berlin behind the Iron Curtain and a five-year stint in NASA’s Shuttle Program that she realized her true calling. A collision course between suspense and romance was set. Since then she has expanded her work into some of the darkest places the human psyche dares to go. Visit Debra at www.debrawebb.com.