“Mind if I go in?” asked Jake.
“Since when do you ask?” teased Mary.
“Since I don’t know how much she knows.”
Mary and Dr. Walters both sighed.
“She suspects,” commented Dr. Walters. “She doesn’t know anything for sure.”
Mary leaned her elbows on the desk and looked down for a moment. “My mom and I have talked about it. We don’t know who should be the one to tell her, but neither of us wants it to be the police.”
“How would your mom feel if you and I were right there with her?” Jake asked. “I’ve been with Devlin during the worst of it, and maybe I could say the words, but she really has no idea who I am.”
Mary considered. “My mom thinks she can tell her, but no matter who says the words, it won’t be easy for Devlin to hear them.”
“Well, standing here isn’t gonna make it any easier. Let’s get it over with.”
“Mind if I tag along, just in case?” asked Dr. Walters. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
“Please,” Mary responded, “Devlin wouldn’t have made it without you. Honestly, I can’t thank you enough.” She gave him a quick hug. He blushed, teasing her with an “aw shucks” look.
Jake heard them trailing behind as he strode to the door of Devlin’s cubicle. She lay on her side, facing the door, hands folded beneath her cheek, eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Jake smiled. Devlin must have managed a shower again, because someone, probably Delores, had braided Devlin’s long hair, and the thick, wavy, wet auburn plait lay across her shoulder, the sheet damp beneath it.
As always, Jake was struck by her innocence and frailty and enraged by what was done to her. It was a visceral reaction, like someone had hit him in the gut every single time he saw her. He ached to run his fingers along her pale cheek, to smooth her unruly hair with his rough palm, to gather her in his arms and hold her close. He clenched his fists as he stepped forward into the room to physically stop from reaching for her. He reminded himself that there was a big age difference between them, and he didn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression. He wouldn’t abuse Devlin’s trust.
* * * *
Devlin opened her eyes and stretched a welcoming hand toward Jake. He was at her side in a heartbeat.
She took his big hand in hers. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still raspy from the ET tube, “for staying with me.”
“How did you know?” Jake seemed surprised.
“I felt you,” Devlin answered, smiling up at him. Jake grinned back at her like a schoolboy.
“Anytime, darlin’,” he answered. “Anytime.”
* * * *
Despite the ever-present worry about her aunt, when Devlin opened her eyes and found Jake standing in the doorway looking at her with such open emotion on his face, she felt a surge of joy so strong that she reached for him without thinking. She had come back to life because he drew her back. And she didn’t even know his last name. That was something she intended to remedy. Devlin’s memories of the past week might be vague, but she knew Jake had been an integral part of everything she’d been through since she opened her eyes. She’d told him her name, and whether he knew it or not, whether he wanted it or not, she’d given him her heart.
“I’m Devlin Barre,” she said, enjoying the feel of his rough, calloused hand in hers.
“Jake McKenna, ma’am,” he answered, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Devlin’s youth and natural vivacity bubbled to the surface. She began to laugh. It might not be the most opportune moment, but she couldn’t help it. Her mother had always laughed at the unexpected. When something awkward happened, something uncomfortable, but somehow funny too, her mom would practically, as her dad used to say, split a gut. She’d laugh so hard she’d roll on the floor, and pretty soon, the entire family would be laughing with her, and whatever it was didn’t seem so awkward anymore.
Mary’s mother, Delores, who had known Devlin’s mother all her life, caught on immediately. Within seconds, she was laughing along with Devlin, grabbing at the box of tissues to wipe her eyes. Dr. Walters joined in and, finally, Mary.
Jake appeared confounded at first, but in the end, he couldn’t seem to help himself. As if Devlin’s laughter was contagious, he caught it as well. Before she knew it, he was leaning against the wall, laughing so hard he shook the glass window.
From beneath thick lashes, Devlin watched Jake let go of his control, throw back his head, and give himself over to the moment. This tall, rugged man had saved her life. She thought he was the most beautiful human being she’d ever seen. She knew she would be forever connected to him. Watching him laugh, his smile wide and white and wolfish, openly sexy, and utterly sincere, Devlin had an epiphany. She realized to the very core of her being that she loved this stranger. She knew, with the absolute clarity only trauma can elicit, that one day she would be with him, in every way a woman could be with a man.
When their laughter faded and an uncomfortable silence descended, Devlin decided she’d better take matters into her own hands.
“My aunt Caroline is dead.”
No one answered immediately.
Delores placed a comforting hand on Devlin’s arm. “Yes, honey, she’s gone.”
Devlin’s expression went blank. She took a quick survey of the faces in the room, hating the pity she saw. The last thing she wanted was pity. Right now, she was poised on a tightrope, balanced between sanity and hysteria, and she had to stay perfectly still. Pity could tip her the wrong way. She glanced at Jake. If he felt sorry for her, she was lost. To Devlin’s great relief, he appeared furious, furious enough to kill someone. With a sigh, she drew strength from his fury.
“Where is he?” she asked, relieved to hear only a slight hitch in her voice.
“Thailand, last anyone knew,” answered Jake, not bothering to hide his anger.
Devlin heard a commotion at the desk as Shauna, her partner Scott, Mike, and Cherie, the Social Services officer, entered the ICU. Jake moved closer to Devlin as Dr. Walters and Mary went to head off the troops. Mary’s mother rose to her feet. Devlin slipped a tentative hand into Jake’s, reassured when he squeezed back. ,
“Devlin,” began Mary, “the police need to ask you some questions. Are you up to it?”
“Yes,” answered Devlin, her voice quivering. “Tell me what happened to my aunt, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to help you.”
Shauna stepped forward, laying a tape recorder on the overbed table. Her voice compassionate, she said, “She was shot, once in the chest. The day you were brought into the hospital. She died instantly.”
The room was silent for a moment, all eyes on her. Even Jake waited for her to crumble, but she didn’t. Instead, she stared straight ahead. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten sick, she’d still be alive.”
Mary stepped up. “Devlin, you know better than that. Carolyn’s death is not your fault.”
Cherie started to interrupt, but Shauna spoke up first. “It appears your uncle killed her. We assume he found out you were here, although we don’t know how. As far as we can tell, he didn’t find out from anyone who was involved in your case. We didn’t even identify you until the next morning.”
Devlin pulled her hand from Jake’s. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her hands. Jake perched next to her on the edge of the bed.
Devlin took a deep breath. “She died because I didn’t get back there in time to kill him first.”
Other than the ping of the heart monitor, the room was absolutely silent.
“There’s an old saying my dad mentioned once,” continued Devlin. “I don’t remember right now where it came from. It goes like this, ‘If your enemy is coming to kill you at eight, get up at seven and kill him first.’ I intended to go back and kill him. I thought I had more time. I was wrong.”
For a long time, nobody said a word.
“I need to record your state
ment,” interrupted Shauna, breaking the silence. “Are you feeling up for that?”
Devlin nodded. “Can I ask a favor before we start?”
“Of course,” replied Shauna.
“There are too many people in the room,” she said. , Nervous, she pulled at the sheet.
“Okay people, clear out,” ordered Shauna.
Jake started to get off the bed, but Devlin tugged him back down and held tight to his hand.
“Stay,” she whispered. “Just don’t look at me, that’s all I ask. You too.” She motioned at Mike. “I remember you from the first night in the emergency room. You’re the officer who found me.”
Mike introduced himself. Devlin took the hand he offered and thanked him.
Mary and Dr. Walters exited the cubicle. Mary’s mother gave Devlin’s arm a comforting pat before she followed them, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Shauna clicked on the tape recorder.
“Start with the accident,” she instructed.
“My dad had a year’s sabbatical, and he was taking us to France. He was researching the Duchy of Aquitaine. It was his area of expertise,” Devlin explained with a shrug. “His obsession, I guess you’d say. I’m named for the woman he considered the most influential in the medieval world, Eleanor of Aquitaine. My dad was fascinated by her, and he planned to research the transfer of power, real power, through a daughter as opposed to a son. We’d packed up and spent the night at my grampa’s farm. He and my gramma were going to drive us to the airport in Omaha the morning. Our flight to Chicago left at nine on a Sunday morning, so we needed to be on our way by six.”
“Why didn’t your parents use your vehicle? Why did your grandparents drive you?” interrupted Shauna.
“My parents left our car in Grinnell for a visiting professor to use. We were doing a house trade—his family would live in our house, and we’d live in theirs. So, my grampa drove up to Grinnell and picked us up. We planned to take my grandparents’ station wagon to the airport, but when we got up that morning, it wouldn’t start. My dad and my grampa tried jumper cables, but the engine still wouldn’t turn over, and it was getting late, so my grampa pulled out his old blue van. The only other vehicle was the pickup, but six people wouldn’t fit into the pickup, so we took everything out of the station wagon, threw it in the back of the van, and left.”
“Where did your grandfather keep the van parked?”
“It was usually parked behind the barn, under an overhang. He didn’t drive it much. Mostly my gramma and grampa used the pickup around the farm and the station wagon for groceries, errands, stuff like that. He just kept the van in case of emergencies.”
“So it was parked outside?”
“Yes.”
“Could you see it from the house? I mean, if you were to look out the windows of the house, would you have a view of the van?”
“No,” replied Devlin, frowning. “You could only see the van if you were on the back side of the barn or if you were walking or driving up from the pasture. You couldn’t see it from the house or from the road to the house.”
Devlin realized what Shauna was getting at. She paused for a moment, her eyes glued to the far wall of the cubicle.
“We were late, and my grampa was speeding. I was sitting on the driver’s side in the third row with my brother, David. A car pulled up next to us, in the lane next to us.
“I-I thought it was going to pass, but then it swerved into us, swerved right into the van. I felt it clip the side right below my seat. I banged my head on the window. My grampa tried to avoid the other car, and he hit the brakes, but nothing happened. I could tell.” She repeated, “He hit the brakes, and nothing happened. I remember the van skidding sideways, and then it rolled. My seat belt broke. That’s the last thing I remember until I woke up in the hospital.”
“Devlin, do you remember anything about the other car? The one that hit you?”
“The police in Omaha asked me about it already,” she replied, feeling very tired. “You can read the police report.”
“I read it,” said Shauna, “but I’d like to hear about it in your own words.”
“It was an old brown sedan. Four door, like a Delta Eighty-Eight or something. If you read the police report, then you know they never found it. And nobody got a license number. One witness said the car didn’t have any plates.”
“Could you see who was in the car?”
“No,” answered Devlin, “I could only see that there wasn’t anyone in the passenger side of either the front or back seat. I couldn’t see the driver. The van was too high.”
“Tell me about when your aunt brought you to Denver.” Shauna changed the subject.
“I had only met my uncle a couple of times before,” said Devlin. “My aunt Carolyn usually visited without him. I knew my mom and my grandparents didn’t like him, but they never said why.
“When I first got here, he was okay. He didn’t speak much to me and wasn’t home very often. I was still getting physical therapy and sleeping quite a bit, so I spent a lot of time in my room. One morning I heard yelling. He was yelling terrible things at my aunt. I tried to stay out of it, I did, but I heard her crying, and then I heard a slap and another one and a thud, like somebody fell against something. Then the front door slammed. I got downstairs as fast as I could, but I was still on crutches. I found my aunt sitting on the floor in the front hallway, holding her head, blood all over the side of her face and her hands, running down her neck onto her white silk robe. I tried to get her to call the police. I tried to convince her to see her doctor, but she refused. She said if she did, if anyone found out, he’d kill her. She said no one would believe her anyway.”
“Why did she think no one would believe her?”
“Because she said she’d attempted suicide a couple of times and been hospitalized, in a mental hospital. She pulled up her sleeves and showed me her wrists. They were scarred. I didn’t know. She always wore long sleeves. He told her nobody would believe her because she was crazy. He had her convinced of that. I didn’t know what to do. I helped her get cleaned up, and she went to bed.”
“After that day, he knew. I don’t think my aunt told him, but he knew. He came to my room one night. He sat on the edge of my bed, saying he wanted to talk to me. At first he acted sweet, but when I wouldn’t even look at him and scooted away from him, he grabbed my ankle and held me there. He said…”
Devlin had to stop for a moment. She felt close to breaking down. Just then Jake leaned in, barely touching her, and she drew strength from him.
Devlin took a deep breath.
“He said if I did anything, told anyone, he’d cut her apart, one piece at a time, in front of me. Then he said that, just in case I was thinking of running away, I should know that he’d hunt me down like a dog and beat me to death. He said, ‘That is my solemn promise to you.’ And then he smiled and patted my cheek. He got up, walked to the door of my room, turned out the light, and closed the door. I knew when that door clicked shut that he meant every word.”
“Why did you run away then?” asked Shauna.
“Because I realized it didn’t matter,” she answered. “I was dead either way. Once my aunt told me about the money, I knew the day I turned eighteen I was dead. That’s what he wanted, the money, all of it. There was only one way for him to get his hands on it.”
Shauna tapped her fingers on the overbed table. “Do you really think your aunt would have allowed that? Wouldn’t she have come forward, tried to stop him?”
“No, she was powerless. She couldn’t stop him. She’d been beaten down for too long. She was going to let me do it. It was up to me to stop him.”
Devlin looked away at that moment, toward the door, thinking of bolting. Then she remembered where she was and why, and she sat in silence, staring at her hands.
In the quiet that followed her statement, Devlin knew everyone was wondering how her aunt could let this happen. “I don’t think my aunt Carolyn was capable of thinking ahead. She cou
ldn’t look any farther than the next day, maybe only the next hour. She was too afraid. What else could she have done? I was all she had left and…” Devlin buried her face in her hands and began to cry. “She was all I had.”
Devlin heard Shauna switch off the recorder, giving her time to compose herself. When at last Devlin stopped crying, she clicked it back on and asked, “What happened the night you left?”
Devlin ran her hands over her eyes, her cheeks still damp. “I came home from school, and he was beating her. She was on the kitchen floor, crying, all curled up in a ball, while he kicked her. I don’t know why. I don’t even know why he was home. I don’t know what had happened, but he was shouting at her, shouting about someone, a name, a woman’s name.”
Shauna interrupted. “Do you remember the name of the woman? Or what he was yelling about?”
“It sounded like Betsy, or Betty, or something like that. I don’t know for sure why he was so angry, but he was almost incoherent. His face was beet red, and he was practically screaming, spitting at her. Something my aunt found or said to him, something to do with this woman. He just…He blew up, worse than ever before. I tried to drag her away from him, but he shoved me to the floor and kept kicking her. I think he’d been cutting wood in the backyard because he was wearing his work boots. My aunt kept her arms around her head and was moaning.
“There was a steak knife lying on the floor, near where I fell. I don’t know why it was on the floor. Maybe my aunt had grabbed it. I picked it up and stabbed him in the leg, in the thigh. Just to stop him from kicking her. I wasn’t trying to kill him. I just wanted to stop him from hurting her anymore.
“He howled at me. He grabbed my wrists really tight, shaking me, and I dropped the knife. He dragged me from the kitchen to the top of the basement stairs. He kicked the door open, pulling me headfirst down the stairs.” Her eyes drifted to the corner again.
Barrett, Julia Rachel - Anytime Darlin' (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 7