Redemption (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  She gave him her cell number and ended the call. Her instincts screamed the way they had when she’d pulled Nick and Jamie out of Marianne Clarke’s place four years ago. She looked over at Danny, and didn’t need to say a word. He just nodded.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get there before the hurricane. You driving?”

  She threw her suitcase into the trunk of her car. “Yep.”

  Chapter 65

  Frisco Gomez arrived at CRC tired. Trepidation danced up his spine. And not just because a hurricane was barreling down on his ass. He’d dealt with the pendejos at CRC before, while looking into the Mance girl’s suicide. They were a secretive bunch, and their former patients included lawyers, businessmen, celebrities, and one or two children of local judges. From what he’d seen, CRC’s patients followed Shirley’s teachings like whipped dogs. One wrong step and he’d find himself looking at a lawsuit and fighting to keep his job.

  He found the gate leading into the premises closed, locked, and the guard shack unmanned. Best case, they’d already evacuated and he could tell Sarge to relax. He rang the buzzer. Two short bursts in rapid succession. Silence greeted him. He pressed once more. Nothing.

  “Hello.” He spoke into the intercom. “This is Deputy Frisco Gomez with the Monroe County Police Department. I need to speak with someone in charge, por favor.”

  “May I ask what this is regarding?”

  The voice came back crackly, filled with static. Shirley Cantwise. He recognized her syrupy tones. Far as he could tell, she ran the place like Homestead Correctional.

  “We need to get you folks evacuated before Phoebe gets here.”

  “Oh is that all?” She laughed. “You’re a little late, I’m afraid. We evacuated our patients and their families yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” That probably explained Sarge’s inability to get anyone on the phone.

  “Yesterday,” Shirley confirmed. “As soon as it became a real possibility Phoebe was going to make landfall here.”

  “Is this Shirley Cantwise?” Sarge would, for sure, want it confirmed.

  “That’s right. I’ve got everything under control here. You can move along with your evacuation.”

  “How many folks you got left inside there?”

  “Just my head of security and myself. We’re packing up the patient files for safe keeping before taking off ourselves.”

  “You got a Dr. Arthur Belanger there with you?”

  “May I ask why you want to know?”

  “Just wondering if he’d like to help out with any medical emergencies we might have on account of the hurricane.”

  “I’m sorry, but Dr. Belanger left a few days ago on business. I don’t expect him back for another week or two.”

  “Okay. Thanks anyway.” He made a mental note to check out Arthur Belanger after the hurricane mess was under control. “You’ll want to finish quickly with your packing. Phoebe’s due in early tomorrow afternoon.”

  “We plan on being gone in less than an hour.”

  “Bien.” He started to leave, and then realized Sarge would never let him hear the end of it if he didn’t at least ask about Mr. Beck. “You got Nicholas Beck checked in there?”

  “I’m afraid our patient list is confidential, Deputy Gomez.”

  “I got to ask. There’s some folks are real concerned about Mr. Beck’s well-being.”

  “Like I said, all of our patients and their families left yesterday. So if Mr. Beck did happen to be checked in here, he would have been evacuated along with everyone else.”

  All the folks who’d left CRC yesterday were probably busy getting somewhere safe. Sarge had a tendency to worry.

  “Bien,” he said. “You hurry up and get yourselves out of there then, and let me know if you need anything.”

  “Of course, Deputy Gomez. Thanks for checking in on us.”

  “No problema.” Just a few more busloads of elderly and folks without transportation to see off and he’d have the island buttoned up and evacuated without resorting to emergency one-way travel on the roads. FDOT was going to love him.

  Chapter 66

  Mindy sat on her bed, absent-mindedly singing Gimme Shelter. In the stillness of her room even the quiet voicing of the tune made an impact. It was a night without a breeze, and even with her window open, there was little in the way of outside noise to drown out her singing. No breeze rustling through trees. No screeching gulls. No chirping insects. Just the mournful cry of song lyrics in her darkened room.

  Lights had been out for quite some time. Though without a clock it was hard to say how long exactly. Earl hadn’t shown up for visitation. He’d been on his way to see Shirley after they made love in the woods. Two possibilities played out in her thoughts. Either the meeting with Shirley had gone terribly wrong, or something had driven him away. Heartsick, she imagined him rotting in the woods. That had been Nick’s assessment. And Scott’s. And Preston’s. Even Rod’s. No one had said it aloud, but she could see it in their pitying stares and their guarded body language. Believing it could be true was almost too much to bear. She’d rather it was the other possibility swimming through her thoughts. The one where he’d finally had enough.

  He’d read something into her reaction to the news about Pretzel this morning. He hadn’t said so, but she’d seen the curiosity in his eyes. The doubt and suspicion. She’d seen the wheels turning in his head as he tried to fathom her reaction. Had he gone back to wondering about her secrets then decided it was hopeless between them? She’d spent so long pushing him away it could hardly be counted a surprise if he stopped circling back. He was growing tired. She’d sensed it in his voice, seen it in his eyes. If he’d escaped Shirley’s wrath, if she ever saw him again, she had to finally tell him the truth. About everything.

  Mindy continued singing the old Rolling Stones tune, thinking how she had found shelter. She’d found it with Earl. And she’d been too busy hating herself to believe she deserved it. But if she didn’t get over the years of abuse and self-flagellation, the only thing in danger of fading away was the one thing she knew she really wanted: Earl’s love.

  Leaning back into her pillow, she stopped singing Gimme Shelter and started singing Deeper Than You Know. If she ever saw Earl again, she would tell him everything.

  Chapter 67

  Nick followed Ryan to Shirley’s office, his suspicions fully engaged. He was on his way to a meeting with an inevitably bad outcome. Of that much, he was certain.

  His day started off on edge and turned further sideways with Ryan’s breakfast announcement that therapy sessions and recreational activities had been cancelled, and that family visitation was being moved to 1:00 p.m. The time between breakfast and lunch would be spent with each patient locked in their room reading Shirley’s books and reflecting on how her teachings applied to their lives. Some bullshit about an exercise in self-reflection and adaptability.

  Nick didn’t buy it. Not for a damn minute. He’d stood at the table, in the stunned quiet of the cafeteria, and demanded to talk to Shirley. The way Ryan had smirked and agreed to a lunchtime meeting without objection, Nick should have seen it coming. He’d waited nearly three hours following breakfast, locked in his room. In that time he’d gone over every conceivable conversation he might have with her; and all the reasons things might go haywire. In the end he came to only one conclusion. His cover had been blown.

  As he followed Ryan down the hall, glancing out the glass walls of the building, clouds gathered in from the southeast, claiming what had started out as a clear, sunny morning. Looked like they might be in for a late November blow.

  Ryan knocked once on Shirley’s door, opened it and gestured Nick inside. As he entered the room, his dread became full-blown fear. Shirley sat behind her desk, eyes blazing with contempt and excitement. Beside her stood Dennis, the beefy, older security guard. He had the same deranged smiled as the others. Ryan closed the door and Dennis pulled the gun. Nick sucked in a deep breath, stilling nerves that jumped at the sigh
t of it.

  Smiling, he calmed his voice. “This is certainly a new form of therapy. What do you call it? Scared Sane?”

  No one laughed.

  “Shut up.” Ryan smacked him upside the head.

  Nick took the blow through his haze of nerves and anger. He stiffened, clenching his fists, wanting to smack the cocky bastard and show him what a real punch felt like. Thank God he’d gotten Jamie and Charlotte out of here. “Fine,” he said. “No one’s in the mood for jokes. Mind telling me why you have a gun pointed at me?”

  Dennis looked from Ryan to Shirley. “You want me to just shoot him?”

  Fuck! Nick’s gut tightened, forcing acidic bile up the back of his throat. “Shoot me? What the hell kind of therapy is that?”

  “This isn’t therapy, Mr. Beck.” Shirley slipped on her sickeningly sweet smile. “This is how we deal with our enemies.”

  “Like Regina?” Might as well come out with it now. “What happen? She come-to one night when Belanger was molesting her?”

  Shirley’s smile evaporated. “That stupid little slut had some nerve complaining about a sexual assault when she was here because she couldn’t stop spreading her legs for every man she met. She as much as prostituted herself digging up stories for Peter Arnold. Admitted it right in therapy.”

  “I don’t care if she’d been out walking street corners.” Anger spilled from Nick and he no longer tried to stop it. He was done listening to her bullshit and pretending it made sense. “Regina came to you for help. And you let that psycho you call a doctor violate her. And then you killed her.”

  “She was going to the police!” Shirley wailed. “She was going to ruin everything I’ve worked for. Think of all the people I’d be unable to help if I allowed that to happen.”

  “Your brand of help is something people are better off without.”

  Shirley sighed, casting a dismissive glance in his direction. “I might have known a man who makes his living publishing gossip could never be expected to understand.”

  “I understand just fine.” He’d never raised his hand to a woman in his life. Never even thought about it. But the contemptuous smile on her face had him just about there. “I understand you’ll make any justification necessary to keep from taking a hard, honest look at yourself. In the end, that’s what makes Regina better than you. She admitted her mistakes and was working to fix them. You’re still looking in the mirror of denial.”

  She sputtered once or twice, glaring at him, but never got out any words. Instead she held up the pen and key chain Sarge had given him and he’d been forced to relinquish along with his suitcase. “You’re not an alcoholic.” She spit the words out. “You lied about why you came here. You came here to spy.”

  “I came here to find out the truth.”

  “You lied!”

  “So did you.” While she screeched, he remained calm. “You said Regina killed herself. And we all know that’s not true.” He glanced pointedly at Ryan. “Don’t we?”

  Ryan glared back, a smile curving the corners of his mouth. “You don’t have any proof of anything.”

  “Don’t give him the courtesy of a response,” Shirley ordered. “Dennis, take Mr. Beck out to the woods where you dumped Pauline. And see that he joins her.”

  So much for stalling. Nick’s thoughts raced, searching for something more to delay his appointment with a bullet, but Dennis jabbed the gun into his back and pushed forward.

  “You heard Ms. Cantwise. Get moving.”

  The steel poking into his spine provoked a twinge of discomfort, traveling the length of his back and down his right leg. Nick moved stiffly, slowing his gait to a crawl, glancing side to side as Dennis commanded him down the hall. Hoping for help was useless. All the patients had been locked in their rooms, and none of them had guns.

  The empty corridor carried no sound, save the echo of their footsteps. Hell. It wasn’t as if he could expect another CRC staff member to help him, even if one did wander by. He had to give Shirley credit. She’d planned this little ambush well.

  A few minutes later and they were out the door, ambling down a deserted concrete walkway and heading for the trees. Nick stopped moving, watching the clouds bunch densely overhead, feeling a large drop in temperature and scenting the sea air carried in on a gusting breeze. He looked back at Dennis. “A storm’s coming.”

  The guy grunted. “You think I care? Keep moving.”

  He gave Nick’s spine another jab with the gun. “Hustle. I have other things to do besides putting you down.”

  Nick moved slowly. “You’ll understand if that’s not my top concern.”

  “And you’ll understand if I don’t care.”

  They’d reached the woods. Wind sang through leaves, blowing in a westerly pattern. For once the bugs had stopped buzzing and took cover from the coming storm. Nick shivered in the breeze, wrapping his arms in front of him, moving deeper into the vegetation. “How much farther?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when we get there.”

  “Why’d you kill Pauline?” he asked. “Did she get an attack of conscience and start asking questions?”

  “Shut up.” Dennis pressed the gun barrel deeper into his back. “Besides, I didn’t kill her. Ryan did. And it was an accident. She attacked him and Ryan tried to push her away. She fell and hit her head on the table.”

  “Ever stop to wonder why she attacked him? And if it was self-defense, why not call the police? Explain what happened?”

  “We don’t need any more of you busybodies snooping around here. Now keep walking. We’re almost there.”

  His stalling did nothing to delay the inevitable. Swaying trees and tangled undergrowth surrounded Nick, and he could no longer tell what direction they moved in. The winds had shifted direction, whipping the air to and fro. “This is going to be one hell of a storm,” he observed.

  “Don’t worry,” Dennis sneered. “You’re not going to be around for it anyway.” He took a step back, indicating a spot on the ground nearby. “Say hello to Pauline.”

  He pointed at the remains of what had once been a living, breathing human being. Nothing left save bones and a few stray scraps of leathery skin clinging to her skeleton. A ring of dead vegetation outlined the corpse. Nick’s heart broke for the girl who had once inhabited that shell, for the needless violence of her end, and the careless way she’d been discarded.

  He looked away from the remains and back to Dennis, who stared dumbstruck at Ryan’s handiwork. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Haven’t you seen a decomposed body before?”

  Dennis shrugged. “I didn’t expect her to be so gone already. It’s only been a week and a half.”

  “Well this is Florida. Bodies rot more quickly in the heat.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  While Dennis was busy looking all stunned and stupid, Nick saw his opportunity. He turned and lunged, slamming his fist into the man’s face. Dennis’ eyes widened and his head snapped backward. Nick swung again, but he’d miscalculated his opponent’s response time. Dennis caught his balance and fired. The shot went wild, striking the ground several feet to Nick’s left, kicking up a plume of dirt and dried leaves. The sound split the air like rocket fire and echoed in the wind. Nick threw another punch, this one landing in the guy’s gut. A strangled breath whooshed out, along with a funny-sounding squawk. Dennis lunged forward and Nick did, too, grabbing his gun arm, trying to wrestle it away. Dennis landed a punch to the side of Nick’s face with his free hand and squeezed off another round. The bullet struck Nick in the arm, slamming past the bone before exiting. He screamed in agony, but clung to his anger, holding tightly to his opponent’s arm, biting back the pain. “You son-of-a-bitch!” He threw his weight at the man.

  They landed in a heap on the ground. Nick’s breath came hard. Sweat poured down his face and blood flowed from the wound on his arm. He didn’t care how much it hurt. He grabbed Dennis by the wrist, the one that held the gun, and twisted it sideways.
>
  A third shot thundered out. Nick collapsed on top of his foe. The struggle was over.

  Chapter 68

  Night had brought precious little sleep and an abundance of worry. Mindy hunched into the loveseat in the corner of the room, gagging on the sour taste of her stomach. Earl haunted her thoughts, and now, after the strange announcement at breakfast, Nick had gone missing also. It was easy to think Earl might have left, but there was no good explanation for Daddio’s sudden disappearance. The others noticed, too. She caught their confused stares and their worried glances darting around the room.

  Preston, Scott and Rod huddled near the pool table. Astrid, Walter and Walter’s wife sat on the sofa talking quietly. Vince played chess with Belinda. Outside, a solid layer of clouds had dimmed the day. It matched perfectly the gloomy mood inside.

  Darla, who’d been twisting blonde ringlets around her pinky while she made coy with Rory, came her way, plopping onto the loveseat beside her. She smirked. “You’re on a roll, aren’t you? First you chased away Earl, and now it looks like you’ve done the same to Nick. Poor guy should have known better than to get friendly with a man-eater like you.”

  Mindy’s mouth dropped. “Can you really be that stupid?”

  “She’s been too busy playing kissy-face with Rory to notice what’s really going on.”

  The sound of Earl’s voice startled Mindy. Her heart leapt, and she looked up to see him standing there, fear shining in his eyes. It was then she noticed his clothes. Her mouth dropped again. “What on earth?”

  “You’re a patient here?” Darla chimed in. “When did that happen?”

  Earl stiffened and Mindy saw it again, the terror rising from his eyes. She felt her own fear, too, prickling her skin.

  Preston, Scott and Rod joined them, staring at Earl with unasked questions. He remained rigid, hands balled at his sides, gaze moving from the camera at the exit, to Dex and Jerry, the hotel guards, who flanked the door.