by Dana Mentink
“I don’t know. She asked to stay in Pauline’s room.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. “From Pauline’s town and staying in the same room? Why?”
“We don’t know,” Laney put in, “but be careful, okay? Tell us if you hear anything.”
Irene agreed. “Let’s move up our Monday appointment to Saturday. That will ease your mind, won’t it?”
Laney nodded, relief so strong it felt like a warm blanket.
Irene ended the call with promises to check on Admiral and give him a snack.
After they disconnected, Laney breathed slowly, trying to take inventory of the aches and pains. She settled deeper into the pillows, wishing the pounding behind her temples would ease.
Beckett walked around the room, distracted and brooding.
“How did you get here?” she asked suddenly. “To Las Vegas, I mean.”
“Levi took me back to the hotel to get my truck and I drove here. Would have just taken the van. It’s still drivable, but I didn’t want to take the time to change the tire.”
“And you stayed here all night?”
He nodded.
“No wonder you look exhausted. Have you eaten?”
A slight smile curved his mouth. “Aren’t you the one in the hospital bed?”
She scanned the sheets tucked neatly around her. “I don’t even remember being admitted, or the helicopter ride or anything.”
“You were...real upset. I think maybe you don’t want to remember it. I tried to go in the helicopter with you, but they don’t allow it. I did everything I could to convince the flight nurse.” His gaze drifted down to her stomach and a look of pain tightened his features.
“What is it?” she said.
“Nothing.”
“It’s something.”
“Naw,” he said. “Nothing worth talking about.”
An ache behind her temples flared up. Suddenly it all seemed too wearying and her patience thinned to the breaking point. “Haven’t we been through enough that you don’t have to put on the tough-guy persona?”
He stared, surprised. “I’m not. You’re in the hospital.”
He seemed to feel this was adequate explanation. She rolled her eyes. “That is a fact—I am indeed in the hospital, so I’ve got plenty of time to hear how you’re feeling.”
“You don’t need to be burdened.”
She straightened on the pillow. “Beckett,” she said, “stop trying to decide what I need. We were partners once, and even then you kept things from me.”
He looked dumbfounded. “What things?”
“Your feelings.”
He quirked a brow. “But those aren’t worth anything.”
She would have pinched his ear if she could have reached. “Those are worth everything,” she managed to say without raising her voice or adding you dolt.
He raised his palms. “I don’t know what you want me to say. What have I kept from you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were meeting Pauline the day she was killed?” The question appeared to have surprised him as much as it had her. Why had she aired it? Why now? “You said you didn’t want to wake me, but that wasn’t all of it.”
He was silent for a moment. “I don’t see why it’s important anymore.”
She folded her arms and stared him down until the silence became like a live thing between them.
He cleared his throat. “She was acting odd, urgent, like she had something life-and-death to tell me. But she was always one of those dramatic types, so the note she left fit right in. She’d...uh...contacted me once or twice a while back after her divorce, before you and I got together.”
She knew him well enough to wait out the pause.
“Laney...” He pulled in a breath. “Our life was good, perfect, and everything from my high school days ended so badly. I didn’t want any part of that to touch what we had. I was going to tell her I couldn’t help her, to ask her to leave...but she was already dead.”
“You should have told me before you met her.”
“Yes, I should. Like I said, she was from a time when I was...someone else, who wasn’t worth much.”
“Beckett... There aren’t two of you. What you’ve been through made you who you are.”
He was quiet. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You hurt someone, accidentally. You aren’t a monster.”
“That’s what the town called me then. They still do.”
“You let them tell you who you were.” The regret in his eyes almost stopped her breath. “God doesn’t condemn you for what happened in high school, Beckett. Don’t you think you should follow His lead?”
“It’s too late. I wrecked what we had too. I ruined us.”
She forced herself to look at him. “Yes, you did, but you’re a free man. You still have a life to live.”
His voice came from far away, a murmur of profound pain. “Not anymore. Everything good in my life is right here in this bed. All I can do is to make sure you and the baby are going to be okay.”
It seemed unbearable to witness his grief for one moment longer. She reached out her hand and took his, but he would not meet her eye.
What could she say? He’d been so careful to hide this brokenness from her, trying desperately to reinvent an identity that was separate from the monstrous one he’d taken to heart. If only he’d shared his vulnerability sooner, maybe things would have been different. Maybe he would never have walked into those woods alone that day. It was almost too painful to consider. She squeezed his hand, and she felt some of her long-burning anger ebb away. She knew now why their marriage had really died. How could a man truly love her when he hated himself?
* * *
Beckett was grateful that Jude rapped a knuckle on the hospital room door and stuck his head in. The conversation was reaching the point of intolerability. Trent Clouder in a fire-department T-shirt followed Jude into the room, carrying a bunch of yellow carnations.
“The volunteers wanted you to have some flowers,” Clouder said.
“Thank you so much, but I hope you didn’t drive all the way from Furnace Falls to bring me flowers.”
He shrugged. “I was on scene with the ambulance. When we got the details of what had happened and who the victim was...” He shook his head. “Well, it just about blew my mind. When Pauline was in town, she mentioned her brother, just said he was in and out of trouble, but she adored him. Never figured she meant he was that out of control.”
Beckett wondered exactly how much time the two had spent together for that kind of information to come out. Jude beat him to the question.
“So you spoke to her when she came back to Furnace Falls?” Jude asked.
He nodded. “Couple days before she was murdered.”
Beckett flinched.
Jude hooked his thumbs on his belt. “You didn’t mention it before.”
And he hadn’t elaborated much with Beckett either.
Trent shrugged. “Not a lot to say. We had coffee. She told me she was staying at the Hotsprings. I gave her my number and told her I’d like to take her out to dinner while she was in town, but...well, we never got the chance.”
“Did she seem upset?” Jude asked. “Preoccupied with something?”
“No, more excited, I’d say. She didn’t mention anything specific.”
Jude cocked his head. “I’m still trying to digest what you’re saying. You didn’t come forward to tell us any of this after her body was found.”
Trent’s cheeks went dusky. “I was trying to keep my marriage together. My wife was threatening divorce, and I didn’t want to give her any more ammo, you know?”
Ammo, like asking another woman out for dinner? Beckett tried to keep his feelings from showing.
“Anyway, it was just that one
conversation over coffee, so I didn’t think it would have been particularly helpful.”
“How did Kenny know where we were?” Laney said.
“Herm,” Beckett said. “He told me a guy called the hotel asking about a starlight tour. Herm filled him in on the details without thinking, our usual stops, etc. After he hung up, Herm got to thinking he’d made a mistake and called me at the borax works. Kenny was able to put together where we were, but I still wonder if he had some inside help. Maybe from Rita?”
“Rita? Your hotel guest?” Clouder’s expression was alive with curiosity. “The one asking the librarian about you?”
“Actually,” Jude said, “I need to talk to Laney right now and get my facts straight. Would you mind stepping out, Trent?”
“No problem. I was leaving anyway.” He laid the bouquet on the table. “Everyone will be thrilled to know you and the baby are okay.” He kissed her cheek before he left the room.
Beckett felt a prickle of annoyance. A kiss? And how had Trent known about Laney’s pregnancy?
He could tell by the look on his cousin’s face that Jude was also pondering that question.
“Laney,” Jude said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to ask you to tell me everything you remember about what happened from the time you left the borax works.”
Beckett’s gut squeezed at the look of fear that trickled across Laney’s delicate features. His rage that Kenny had terrorized her, hunted her like an animal, made it hard for him to breathe.
“She needs rest, Jude. Can’t it wait?”
Jude turned a gaze on him that was not completely without warmth. “You know it can’t,” he said calmly. “So you stay in here and remain silent, or you step out in the hallway, but either way, you don’t interrupt. Got me?”
Beckett swallowed. He knew his cousin was right. “All right,” he said, taking a seat in the hard-backed chair, steeling himself as Laney began to relive the nightmare all over again.
TWELVE
Laney had not thought she could produce so many tears, but relating the facts to Jude unleashed torrents of them that subsided into shuddering gasps. True to his word, Beckett did not speak, but he rose from his chair. The feel of his work-toughened hands, caressing her fingers, transferred some strength to her, and she was able to make it through.
Jude closed his notebook. “You did real well, Laney. Couldn’t ask for more. I’ve got to go now, but I can tell you, once Mom hears about this, she’s going to camp out on your doorstep with soup and cookies.”
Laney giggled and wiped her eyes. “Admiral and I will be thrilled to partake of Aunt Kitty’s cookies, especially if they’re the walnut-and-date kind.”
“Oh, they will be,” he said. “And I’ll get her a fresh box of dates from Duff’s farm to seal the deal.”
“Those are the best dates in the world,” Laney said. The guests at the Hotsprings Hotel usually concurred after they toured the little family-run farm.
“Uh-huh. Whenever I pick them up, I get chapter and verse on that from Duff. I’ll see you soon.”
Beckett walked Jude to the door, their voices too low for her to hear. She caught only Beckett’s heartfelt, “Thank you, Jude. I mean, thanks for coming yourself instead of sending someone.”
“Family,” Jude said.
Family. Did he mean the word to encompass his cousin again? Or just her, his pseudo sister? She wondered if perhaps Jude and Beckett would be able to bridge the chasm of their distrust and become proper cousins again. Jude left and Beckett retreated into silence as the nurse came in to check her vitals.
She wanted to spiral back to their earlier conversation.
Everything good in my life is right here in this bed. All I can do is to make sure you and the baby are going to be okay.
She had the sensation of urgency, that the fragile thread that now connected them would snap as soon as they left the surreal environment of the hospital. “Beckett...” she started.
A brisk knock robbed her of the chance. The doctor arrived. Beckett stepped away, shoving his big hands in his pockets.
“Good morning,” the doctor said to Laney. “Glad to see you’re awake. I’ve already spoken to your husband.”
Husband. The word had filled her with pride once upon a time. Now it echoed with uncertainty. How much longer would they be married? As soon as Kenny was caught, Beckett would leave as promised. It was the best choice for everyone. She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.
The doctor washed his hands and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “Long story short, the baby is fine and so are you. If everything continues to look good, we’ll get you out of here in the late afternoon.”
She’d known he would say that, but still the breath whooshed out of her. “Music to my ears.”
“Oh, I think we can do better than that,” he said, applying warm gel to an ultrasound wand. “I’m going to do a fetal Doppler test.” He cocked an amused eye at Beckett.
“Ready, Mr. Duke?”
Beckett looked startled. “Ready for what?”
The doctor laughed and placed the wand against her belly. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft rhythmic whoosh and purr. It was indeed sweeter than music, more delicate than one of the fragile cactus blossoms that would unfurl only for the briefest of moments. Whatever she’d had to endure, the fright she’d felt at her harrowing confrontation, it was all worth it to be able to hear that tiny heartbeat.
Thank You, Lord.
When she opened her eyes, Beckett was standing electrified at the foot of her bed. “Is that...?”
The doctor nodded. “Your baby’s heartbeat, Mr. Duke, strong and steady as it should be at four months gestation.”
All the color drained from Beckett’s cheeks, and then flooded back in again until he was positively pink. He stood there, mouth open and gasping like a fish. “I...uh...”
He stepped backward so quickly he bumped into the table and sent a plastic pitcher of water toppling to the floor. Water splashed all over Beckett’s shoes and the doctor’s pant leg. He looked at his wet boots and then at the doctor and then at her, before his eyes once again locked on the machine still emitting the sounds of the fetal heartbeat.
“Sorry, Doctor. I’ll...go get some paper towels to clean this up.” And before the doctor could say a word, he’d bolted out the door, ignoring the paper-towel dispenser on the wall not two feet away.
She gaped. “Did he just run out?”
The doctor smiled. “Like a startled rabbit. You can never predict how the reality of parenthood will affect a fellow. Believe me, I’ve seen reactions I can’t even describe, but he won’t go far, I can promise you that.”
“How do you know?”
The doctor stripped off his gloves. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but your husband has been a pain in my side since we admitted you.”
She stared. “Uh-oh. What has he done?”
“It’s more what he wouldn’t do. He refused to budge from the examining room. He was what my mama would call het up. I had to call Security before he would consent to banish himself to the hallway outside while we finished our examination. There’s no chair right outside the door and the waiting room was just too far away for his taste, so he stood there, like some sort of stone monument, only not as quiet. Every time someone would enter or exit he would politely harangue them about your condition until the nurses were ready to personally pitch him out the front door. I relented and let him enter the room if he would promise not to say a word. Figured it would be more productive than having him hauled off by the cops.”
“Thank you for that, Doctor.”
“Yes, ma’am. He kept his promise and stopped badgering the nurses and let them do their jobs, so he was allowed to stay. He’s a big guy, but he mashed himself into the corner so as not to get in their way.”
She sank back on the pillo
w. “I can’t believe it.” But actually, she could. When they’d been married only a few weeks, she’d gotten such a bad case of the flu that she wanted him to sleep in an empty tent so as not to catch it. He’d refused, bringing her ice chips and sips of water and finally jaggedly cut squares of half-burnt dry toast he’d insisted on making himself instead of asking Herm. She’d secretly fed a few to Admiral on the sly.
But why had he run out of the room when he’d heard their baby’s heartbeat?
The doctor seemed to read her mind. “New life is powerful, isn’t it? It gives us a fresh way to see the world.” He smiled once more. “I’ll get your discharge papers ready, Mrs. Duke. Take good care of yourself.”
A fresh way to see the world. An idea ignited in her heart. Could this baby be a way for Beckett to see the world, and himself, the way God meant? The spark warmed her imagination. If he could make that monumental shift...might it be possible that they could start life anew? Together?
No, she told herself. He was here only long enough to deal with Kenny Sanderson. He’d asked for a divorce, refused to even speak to her throughout the months of his incarceration. He’d not loved her enough to journey through the “worse” part of “for better or worse” with her. He’d walked away, like her foster parents had, and a baby wasn’t going to change that. She didn’t love him anyway, not anymore.
But in a very tiny whisper, she said, “God, please put his heart back together again. He needs You.”
She sank into an exhausted sleep.
* * *
Beckett was grateful that Laney dozed in the truck as he drove them toward Death Valley. Jude had arranged for a Las Vegas cop to follow them out of the city until an Inyo County officer took over as they drew closer to home. He was grateful for the police protection, appreciative of Jude’s proactiveness. As the miles wound by, he kept stealing glances at her, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat pinging in his memory.
He made sure the air-conditioning vents were not blowing directly on her and turned off the radio sports channel that he was regularly tuned in to. Should he wake her and insist she sip from the water bottle in her cup holder? The doctor had said hydration was important...but wasn’t sleep important too? He smiled, recalling the whoosh of the baby’s heartbeat.