by Aimee Laine
Ian kept his hands in his pockets, hoping to stem his own irritation and not piss off the woman before him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“They told me you’ve been here with her this whole time. What did you do that would put her in here?”
“Whoa, there. I didn’t do anything.” His own tone ratcheted up a notch.
“That’s exactly what that other bastard said.” Her finger poked into Ian’s chest.
A man Ian presumed to be Taylor’s dad filled the frame of the doorway behind her, his eyes cast down to the ground with a shake of his head.
Ian pulled her finger away, banking down his anger.
“Janet,” a voice called from down the hall.
She shifted. The man behind her did the same, a smile growing on his face.
Ian spun to Riley walking toward them. Son of a bitch. Ian’s heart flip-flopped. Two men. One woman. Riley. Could he be the one that took their triangular existence to its end?
“Riley!” Janet ran to him, wrapped her arms around him. “Why is she here? What’s going on? Why was she in jail?”
His gaze hit Ian’s. “I’ll explain everything I know and will tell you over a cup of coffee.” His hand slipped to Janet’s. “Come with me.”
“Oh, no. I’m not leaving her here, helpless and—”
“Take a valium, Janet,” Taylor’s dad said. He ran his hand through his hair as soon as it escaped his lips. “Shit. I’m sorry. This is just—”
“Come with me,” Riley said again. “You, too, Jeff.”
“What about—” Janet pointed toward Ian.
“He’s … a friend.” Riley pushed at her shoulder and led Taylor’s parents out the double doors of the unit. He returned a second later and held out a series of papers along with Ian’s laptop bag. “I was asked to give you these.”
Ian unfolded the pages as his mind reeled with possibilities. A scan gave him enough. All charges had been dropped in the arrest of Taylor Marsh. The forensics guys finally figured out what my brother’s team already did? Ian flipped a page. “Taylor’s mom wasn’t even a spec in her mother’s eye when those bones were buried.” He continued to scan.
Riley ran a hand over his head. “Exactly. You can get your bond money back.”
“I don’t care about that.” Ian continued to look through the paperwork, double checking that nothing remained to ruin the moment. “How did you know she was here?”
“I asked.” With that, he tipped his head as if he wore an invisible cap, spun and left.
Ian pulled out his cell and pressed ‘1’ to speed dial Tripp.
“Something up?” Tripp asked after the first ring.
“Taylor’s parents and Riley just showed up. What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. They must have found out on their own.” Behind Tripp, Lexi’s voice broke through with unintelligible commentary. “Just pick up the phone. This would be that much easier,” Tripp said.
“Hey, Ian,” she said.
“Hi. So, please tell me—”
“So … Emma heard from Janine, who served dinner to Taylor’s parents last night … that the Marsh’s found out Taylor was up here. Don’t know how. Didn’t know they were heading up. I did wheedle out the back story. When Taylor was in jail the first time, her parents … well … they hadn’t … they didn’t do a very good job because they were pissed she moved to Alabama in the first place. Apparently, they thought she made it all up to get attention, like she’d done when she was little. Done what, though, is the question. But anyway, they promised Taylor that if she ever found herself in the same situation, they’d be the squeaky wheel. So, it took them two weeks to get to Alabama, and by then Taylor’d gotten herself out. She doesn’t have the best relationship with her mom because of it, so I’m guessing this is mom and dad’s way of making up for last time.”
“That’s fucked up.” Ian rested his arm against the wall. He thought back to his parents, to Grams and Michael. They’d have taken her in without question. Grams already loved her. He let out a deep sigh. “They don’t know me from shit, so I guess all they have for their only child is what happened before. Can’t blame them for that.”
“Good attitude to have,” she said. “Stay positive. I’m sure all will be fine. Just be nice to the in-laws.”
“Not until they find out I killed her in another life. I probably put those bones there.”
At Lexi’s gasp, Ian filled her and Tripp in on what he’d concluded.
• • •
Back in the bed-chair in Taylor’s room, Ian sniffed his pits. The stench permeated his shirt and made him realize just how long it had been since he’d showered. No one had mentioned it, but after day five, he should have gone back to the hotel. He had, after all, kept and paid for the room.
He just couldn’t bring himself to leave Taylor, even if the story Michael told suggested he had been responsible for her death the last time they’d been involved. Tripp and Lexi hadn’t believed it. ‘Come up with a new explanation’, they’d said. The mere thought of hurting Taylor tore at his heart. He leaned forward and touched her foot, the closest spot to him.
“I don’t know what happened, but I’m going to find out.”
When she didn’t respond, he opened up his laptop, happy to have a faster tool than his phone for research.
Ian connected to the network and clicked on his email. Distraction first, then digging. The latest message came from Tripp.
I-
Didn’t mention this last night since you seemed to be processing in that brain of yours, but Jefferson Wiley from Alabama State Corrections called. He had some details re: Tanner. Look for them in your email if not already.
-T
Ian scrolled through his inbox, searching for Jefferson’s name, but came up with nothing. For all he knew, the guy hadn’t yet sent the info. Just in case, he checked his junk mail. Sure enough, a Mr. Jeff Wiley’s name showed up in the list, having been sent two days before.
Ian clicked the link.
Mr. Sands—
Our records indicate Tanner Joseph Meadows is deceased as of …
At the knock on the door, Ian skimmed the rest and closed the laptop.
With the second knock, he said, “Come in.”
Riley walked in.
Alone.
“What’re you doing here, man?”
“Taylor’s parents wanted me to apologize on their behalf. They’re … a little distraught right now. I left them to talk over their issues before they come back up.”
“You came all the way to New York to tell me they’re sorry?” Ian tucked his shirt into his pants on the off chance Taylor’s parents did return. For some reason, despite the lack of a fresh scent and the massive wrinkles, he wanted to make an impression—hopefully a good one.
“Actually, can we maybe go to another room for a minute?”
With a glance toward sleeping Taylor, her wires and tubes, lines and immobile form, Ian nodded. He and Riley headed toward the conference room. Once inside, Ian took the same spot where he’d sat when speaking with Jessie.
“I came to ask for your help,” Riley said, closing the door.
“Me?”
Riley nodded. “It would be unethical to ask Tripp, and I’ve been told to recuse myself, anyway.”
“Weren’t supposed to come up here, were you?” Ian leaned back in the chair, motioning Riley to the one across.
“Took a few days off,” Riley said, sitting. “Taylor’s important to me.”
Ian kept his hands clasped at his lap.
“There was a technicality in Taylor’s release. No one wants to think the police are inept, or the DA or the judges—and we’re not—but somehow … somehow, the warrant to search her home came with a date before the date Taylor called. By a couple days, actually. They were preparing to execute it that afternoon.”
“How’s that possible?”
Riley shook his head. “A tip?”
“Who the hell would know?”
&n
bsp; “I wish I knew. It gets weirder, because when you secure a warrant, it has to be notarized. The signed dates lined up with the day Taylor found the bones, but the notary’s stamp was two days before that. The clerk could have screwed up, not turned her dial, but I don’t know, and she’s sworn an oath that she wasn’t even in the office that day. I’m probably just being paranoid. Faine claims he was given it by his supervisor and he by his.” Riley waved a hand through the air. “It doesn’t matter. All that does is that the SBI did finally come out with it. Those bones are old. Really old. They’re now looking into the land there for cemeteries or any former grave markers. But, well … I don’t know. I was sure this was all because of Tanner—”
“He’s dead.” Ian shot a figurative air gun through his own temple. “Bar fight not long after he got out of prison for setting up Taylor.”
“Damn.” Riley ran his hand through his hair. “I was hoping there was an easy answer to the niggle at the back of my mind.”
Ian chuckled. “Easy answers don’t make the search any fun. Why would you think of him for this, anyway?” The buzz of his cell phone vibrated his leg. He grabbed it, noted the caller ID said ‘unknown’ and pressed ‘off’. “Sorry, that was probably Tripp. Keep going.”
“Here’s something else weird. The bones’ hands were bound, behind the body. Like this.” Riley stood and twisted his arms behind himself.
Ian offered a nod but said nothing.
Riley let go of his own arms. “That position is one Taylor goes spastic in. Has since she was a kid. I just figured since Tanner probably knew that, it would be a damn good way to torture her. She’d find the bones, see the hands and wig out, you know? Added to that, they were buried and … well …” Riley hung his head. “Whoever produced the warrant, which is a mystery in and of itself as no one in the office is taking blame or credit, documented it as a murder because the orientation of the skull suggested the person was buried alive.”
“How would they know that?”
Riley shot a finger toward Ian. “Exactly what I wondered, but the judge signed, Faine showed up, and the ball started rolling. I just can’t figure out how anyone would have known.”
“Two days before?”
“Yes.” Riley ran a hand through his hair. “I kept thinking Tanner could have gotten those bones out of a museum since they’ve dated them to about eighteen eighty and to a—”
“Female of approximately nineteen to thirty-one?”
Riley’s head snapped up. “Yes. How do you—”
“Same way I found out about Tanner before you. It’s my job to be in the know.” Ian tapped his temple.
Riley angled his head toward Ian. “Is there anything you don’t already know?”
What I’m going to do about Taylor? Why I killed her. “Didn’t know about the face-up stuff. That would’ve wigged me out. And all the reasons for the fevers that the docs don’t understand. Don’t get that, either. Don’t know why she drowned in a bathtub. Not quite sure why the sky is blue, but that one I could probably look up.”
“You know she hates water? And fire. Tried a bonfire once in high school on the beach.” Riley sat again. “I tell you what, her eyes couldn’t have gotten bigger.” His eyes widened as though in example. “Her entire body stiffened like she’d been flash-frozen. She couldn’t move, yet she stared into the flames so I could see the reflection on her pupils. I had to drag her out of there.”
He knows so much about her. Stuff I don’t. Riley’s comment reminded Ian about Taylor’s freeze on the patch of dirt at her house. The phone started up again. Tripp could call back later.
“You ever see her do her air thingamajig?”
Riley chuckled. “Caught her once—rather, I was being nosy when I was about fifteen, and her parents weren’t home. Thought I’d catch her naked.”
Ian’s laugh would not be contained. Fifteen with that sort of temptation would have gotten the best of any teenage boy.
“She was in her parent’s yard, and the wind was whipping her hair into the air. Trees were rustling. Everything was moving inside the circle of her arms. God, she was beautiful.” The wistfulness in Riley’s tone tugged at Ian. “Since then, I’ve kinda watched her. Seen her push ladders back up against buildings she and her crew are working on. If a storm brews, I’d swear she holds it off as everyone gets to safety. You hear about that parachutist whose pack didn’t open, and he dropped to the earth?”
Ian shook his head.
“He fell right toward a pond in a house she was working on. Everyone says there’s no reason for him to have survived, but he did. And with only two broken legs.”
“You saw her save him?” His phone started up again.
Riley’s head moved back and forth. “Don’t you think you should get that?”
Ian reached for it, but it stopped. ‘Unknown’ graced the screen again.
“Taylor had horrible dreams for a week after that and stayed with me a few nights. She’d cry out when I thought she was asleep. ‘Why didn’t it work?’ After the third time, I said, ‘What didn’t work?’ and she responded with, ‘My air. I didn’t reach him fast enough’, and that was it.” He shrugged. “She hasn’t kept anything from me since.”
Because you know her, and I’m only a figment of some imaginary reincarnation.
The phone started again, and Ian snatched it. “What?”
“Ian?” Maryann’s—the nicest of all the nurses at the hospital—voice crashed into him.
“What’s happened?” He stood and started for the door.
“Nothing bad, Ian. Nothing bad. Your girl’s waking up.”
23
Blinded by light, Taylor blinked. For a moment, disorientation plagued her as it had every other time she thought she’d woken. A shiver tore through her—one that registered in her limbs to the point her fingers jiggled. She’d watched herself die three times, each in more detail than the last, and she didn’t want to do it again.
Please tell me I’m alive.
A turn to the right showed her a wall. A shift to the left, a curtain.
This is definitely not heaven.
A blob of indistinct color moved as she turned left and right.
Ian? Ian. Ian!
Taylor tried to focus but stared through a spider web-like, translucent yet opaque film.
“Ian.” Her voice came out garbled, thick with sleep and morning.
The form stirred.
“Ian?”
The form came at her with a speed that had her pushing back in her bed and raising her arms.
“Taylor. Hi, baby.”
Not Ian. Who’s voice? Riley? No. Who?
“Tay, it’s your dad.”
“Daddy? Wha—” She pushed up, wanting to sit as her lids blinked to clear away the fog. Knowing her speaker helped define his shape—the strong jawline and angled cheekbones. A few more blinks brought his ashen color and orangey-brown eyes into focus. “What happened?”
“You’re in the hospital.” His hand took hers.
“Where’s Mama?”
“She’s getting some food for the boys—for Riley and Ian. Seems Ian wouldn’t leave your side for the last few days and hasn’t eaten much. Riley followed us up this morning.” He chuckled, a sweet sound that filled her ears. “You’ve got them both pining over you. How’d my tough girl manage that?”
Riley pine for me? Not a chance. Her dad must have been mistaken. She tried to push up again, but a weakness overtook her as if she’d lain in a bed for a month and hadn’t risen once. “How long have I been here?” Her fingertips found the bed’s button, and it lifted her up.
“Five days. Well, this is the fifth, apparently.”
Her eyes wanted to shut, but her mind needed to hear more. “Why’s everyone here?” A few more blinks and her vision cleared. The room, a light cream, held four different plants, some pink, some white, others a mix of wilting wildflowers, as well as a few cards on a table. Her father sat on the edge of her bed in T-shirt and jeans,
her hand in his.
“Honey, you’ve been flush with a super-high fever they think is related to that cut on your arm.” He picked up the call button. “I could get the nurse for you.” His smile couldn’t have gotten wider.
The door to the room burst opened as soon as he laid the device down.
“Taylor!” Not a nurse, but her mom, and behind her, Riley and Ian. Her mom ran to her, wrapped her arms around her and sobbed into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t believe it took so long. We came as soon as we heard. We should have been here sooner.”
Taylor eyed her father. He gave her a great big grin, a small head shake and a nod.
She let her mother go on, runny mascara coating Janet Marsh’s perfect face. Ten bucks says she’ll fix that in the bathroom mirror in less than thirty seconds.
“Good afternoon, my friend.” The nurse, Maryann by her name tag, laid a stethoscope against Taylor’s chest. “Welcome back to the real world. I’m going to call for the doctor and have him come in.”
“Okay.” Taylor lifted her head. Her eyes darted to Ian. When his gaze met hers, she smiled.
As if he’d read her mind, he stepped past Riley. Her mom rose from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom.
Taylor held out her arms.
Ian joined her.
Anger she’d been consumed with in the midst of her torture-filled confinement vanished with the merging of their lips. What had seemed a lifetime of separation, of living and dying, return and demise culminated in that one moment. She clung to him, pulling her body against his as a need to be tied to him filled her. “It’s really been five days?” She kept her voice a whisper to prevent her parents hearing.
Ian nodded. “Five hard ones.”
Two doctors entered the room. “Ms. Marsh,” said a male/female voice. “Welcome to the land of the living.”
Ian scooted off the bed as the two doctors stood at the end.
“If everyone would please excuse us, we’ve got to run some tests.”
Taylor’s mother emerged from the bathroom, her mascara perfectly reapplied. Her dad stood and took her mother’s arm. “We’ll just be outside,” he said.
They walked toward the door, grabbed Riley and tugged. “Come on, Ian,” Janet said.