by Dana Mentink
Please tell me this isn’t happening again.
But there had been the other moment seared into his soul when she’d walked straight to him. I am still your wife, technically. I will not walk away from you. He realized then how badly he’d erred in asking for the divorce. It was the ultimate betrayal, an abandonment of the vows he’d made before her and God, born of his underestimation of her. But if he’d learned anything in the past week, it was that Laney Duke was much stronger than he could ever imagine.
He pulled in a breath. “I thought it might mean that Rita had left whatever proof she might have had behind.”
Laney’s eyes opened wide. “You think it could be at the hotel?”
“I’m not sure. Jude said there was nothing in Rita’s car. I heard them talking at the crime scene. They think she might have been locked in her own trunk. She may have managed to make the call from there before she was killed, probably by a blow to the head with her own tire iron.”
“It’s so terrible. She must have been so scared. Who could have done it? It had to be the person implicated by whatever Rita had.” She chewed her lip. “But maybe this proof is still at the hotel—maybe it never left. There was nothing in her room, unless we missed it.”
“I’m going to go through it again, but, Laney, there’s so little chance I’m going to find anything to help.”
“Little chance is better than zero chance,” she said firmly.
He pulled in a breath from deep down. “You standing by me…” He swallowed and tried again. “I was wrong to push you away before.”
Her chin went up, showcasing the slight tremble in her lower lip. “Yes, you were.”
He smiled. “Thank you for being here now.”
“You’re welcome.”
He would not bring up what was in his heart, the yearning that had caused him to reach out to Dan after decades. There could be no future between them with Rita’s murder and Kenny’s threats. The injustice of it burned a path inside him. His only hope was to locate whatever Rita had left, if there really was anything to find.
A flash of headlights caught his attention in the rearview mirror.
Traffic on this road was minimal. Was it Willow come to check on them? Not at this late hour after she’d just left. Levi would have waited at the hotel for them.
Laney, alerted to his tension, looked in the side mirror. “They’re getting closer.”
He pressed the gas, taking the next turn much faster than he normally would.
Who was closing in behind them? Kenny? A nameless killer? Townspeople who’d heard about the second woman he’d been accused of murdering?
He accelerated. The silvered foothills whizzed past at dizzying speeds. “Call…”
But she was already dialing Jude.
“Dispatching help now,” Jude snapped over the speakerphone. “Got a guy close. Stay on the line with me.”
He could get no more than a dim outline of the car, no sense of the driver, but he had a feeling he knew who it was.
“Beckett,” Laney breathed.
A figure was pushing through the sunroof in the car behind them. There was a flicker of light, as a fuse caught flame, illuminating Kenny, his face ghoulish.
“Close your window,” he hollered, bracing as Kenny lobbed the Molotov cocktail in an overhand toss. It shattered in the back of Beckett’s truck; flames whooshed up for a moment and then died away.
“He’s still behind us,” Laney screamed.
He punched the gas harder. Around the next corner they heard the sound of sirens. Kenny must have heard it too because he immediately fell off the pursuit, dropping away into the darkness until he disappeared. Beckett slowed to a safer speed, allowing the police car ahead of them to roll up alongside.
Beckett reported what had happened.
The officer nodded. “Couple of places he might have pulled out. I’ll check.”
Lights still strobing, he drove away. Beckett made sure the fire was completely gone before he got back in the truck.
His heart was pounding, hands clenched tight on the wheel. “Laney,” he gasped. “Please.”
She must have known what he was asking. “You want me to leave.” It was the barest of whispers and it cut him to the marrow.
“Honey, it’s too dangerous at the hotel, too isolated. I can’t risk you and the baby getting hurt. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”
Her lip quivered and she looked at her lap. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“Hearing you say that means everything to me.” His voice broke as he said it. “I will find a way out of this.” I will find a way back to you.
She cried softly as he captured her hand again. “I’ll take you to the hotel to put a bag together and pick up Admiral, okay? Herm can cancel any reservations. I’ll drive you to stay with Aunt Kitty. Levi and Willow can take turns hanging out there until things settle down. Just for a while.”
How long was a while? Days? Months? Forever?
If that was what it took, he would have to learn to live with it, but he knew right then that he would never give up.
* * *
Laney tried not to cry as she packed a small bag. Beckett was talking to Herm in the courtyard. It was only just after midnight, but she was bone tired. It took all her will not to sink down onto the bed and wail. She was leaving her home and Beckett, and it felt like her heart was being ripped out in quivering chunks.
It was not faithfulness, or sentiment, that kept her tied to him. A supply of new tenderness had welled up to fill the scars and wounds he’d left behind. Maybe it wasn’t love exactly—she wasn’t actually sure what it would feel like to love again—but whatever it was, she was loath to leave. Why would the Lord fill her with such healing, grant them a child and then tear them apart again?
“He wouldn’t,” she muttered to herself. “He will find us in the middle of this mess.” She believed it; she trusted Him, and at the moment, it was the only thing she could cling to. A rap on the door made her wipe her eyes.
“Laney?” Irene stuck her head in, doctor bag in her hand. “I saw all the activity at the police station from my window. I called Trent and made him tell me. I’m so sorry.”
The floodgates opened and all the tears she had been trying to restrain emerged in a mighty rush. Beckett came in, looking uneasily between the two women. “Things are all settled with Herm. We can go anytime. But, um, it can wait a few minutes.”
Irene continued to pat Laney. “Beckett, I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
“Thanks for coming.”
She nodded. “I figured maybe I’d do a house call in case I could be of help.”
Beckett’s phone rang and he answered. “No, it’s okay. Just leave it there. Thanks, Herm.” He stuck his phone in his pocket. “Wait.” He jerked his chin to one side as if he’d been struck.
“What is it?” Irene said. “Do you need to sit down?”
Was he ill? “Beckett?” Laney called, moving to him.
He stared at her. “I think I figured out where Rita might have hidden the proof.”
Laney felt as if she must have been dreaming. She gave herself a shake. “How could you know that?”
“Herm just called to ask me if he should store the patio cushions in the basement since there’s a storm forecast. It got me to thinking about our pancake dinner. When I went to fetch the flour from the basement, the door was slightly open.”
“It doesn’t shut properly,” Laney explained to Irene. “We’ve all learned how to lift the handle while we’re closing it.”
“Right, but it hadn’t been closed like that. It had to have been shut by someone who didn’t know the door trick.”
She could not stop the hope that fluttered in her body like a clumsy baby bird on its first flight. Could it be? Or were they grasping at straws?
“
And you think Rita left some kind of proof down there?” Irene said. “About Pauline’s murder?”
“Going to find out.” Beckett pulled his phone out and called Levi to ask him to come over. He disconnected. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Irene whistled. “This is just like a treasure hunt.”
“Go,” Laney urged. “Look right now before something else happens. I’ll be fine here. I’ll lock the door and Levi will be here in a flash.”
“I…”
She took him by the shirtfront and gave him a shake. “Please.”
“I’ll stay with her until Levi comes,” Irene put in. “After all this drama, I can’t leave now, can I? You two are much more exciting than the paperwork I have waiting back home.”
“Lock the door behind me.” Beckett waited until they did so. Through the window, she matched his half-raised hand. So many emotions were in that tired face…hope, anxiety, fear…and something else that lent a softness to it.
Irene joined her at the window to watch Beckett sprint into the darkness.
“It’s all going to end soon,” Irene said softly.
Could Laney dare believe it? She felt a sudden prick on her neck.
And darkness closed around her too.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Beckett smacked on the light and took the basement stairs two at a time. He started examining the shelf of jams Aunt Kitty had spent last summer putting up. The first shelf revealed nothing. He started in on the lower section, peering behind string beans and tomatoes, checking underneath dozens of batches of pickles. Again, nothing out of place.
Had he been wrong? Rita’s message was meant to relay something else? He shoved down the prickle of worry as he started in on the next section, extra flour, a sack of sugar, a massive jug of maple syrup. Where might Rita have hidden something? Everything was neatly in place, concealing nothing.
Was it possible he’d misheard her altogether? Had his ears constructed a scenario to give his heart a shred of hope? He continued to prowl and poke. The stack of newspaper sat on the floor, the top a recent issue that no one had time to read. He could imagine the next day’s headline.
Second Murdered Woman Found on Hotsprings Hotel Property. And the stain of it, the suspicion that would stick to Beckett would cling to Laney, as well.
“It’s gotta be here,” he muttered.
He ruffled quickly through the newspapers. Underneath the bottom issue, his fingers found a packet a couple of inches thick. Breath held, he slid it free. It was a large manila envelope marked Beckett on the front. With hands gone cold, he undid the clasp. There was a neatly wrapped stash of a dozen or so clear bags, filled with labeled pills…gabapentin, promethazine, bupropion, ritalin. Prescription drugs? He didn’t know much about the black market, but he was sure this pill stash was worth a bundle. There was a set of papers also. The papers hadn’t slid clear when the basement steps creaked. Kenny stepped off the landing and smiled, his gripped knife catching the glare of the bare bulb.
“Kenny…” he started, but he was cut off.
“I heard you did it again. My sister wasn’t enough.”
“If you’d just listen to me for a…”
He pointed the knife at Beckett’s heart. “New plan. You die now, before you can kill anyone else. Then I’ll deal with your wife.”
Beckett waved the packet. “What I’ve got in this envelope will show us who really killed Pauline. Rita hid it here, and that’s why she was killed too.”
“You’ve always got a story, don’t you?” He stepped closer. “It may have convinced the police, but it’s not going to help you this time.”
“The police are likely on their way here now.”
He grinned. “Good. They can mop up the mess after I split. I told Uncle Leonard to go on ahead. He’ll find us a place to start over after I kill you and yours.”
At least Uncle Leonard wasn’t on the property, ready to pounce on Laney and Irene. Levi would be there by now. Maybe he would figure out something was amiss and call Jude.
Beckett held the envelope at Kenny. “All right. So you’re going to kill me. I can’t convince you of the truth, but what’s it going to hurt to look at what’s in here? A minute or two more before I die. What’s the harm in it?”
“More time for you to keep breathing.”
“One minute more.” He paused, his gut wound tight with tension. “You can read, can’t you?”
The gibe made Kenny prickle. “You won’t look so superior when you’re dead. Okay, I’ll let you squirm for a while longer. You open it. What’s it say?”
Beckett pulled the folded papers from the envelope. There were two sheets, printed screenshots from a computer. Two pictures of the same thing, he thought at first.
Two record sheets with notes, taken after a physical exam. His eyes flew to the top line, the name. No, he had to be wrong. He read it again.
“What does it say?” Kenny said. “Quit stalling.”
“I have to get to Laney.” Beckett tried to barrel past Kenny, but he lunged forward, the blade sinking into his biceps. He did not feel pain, but blood began to spill down his arm in a warm trickle.
Kenny crouched, gleeful. “Awww. Does it hurt, Beckett?”
The next time Kenny launched an attack, Beckett was ready. He sidestepped and Kenny’s momentum carried him forward. Beckett raised his forearm and smashed an elbow into Kenny’s chin as he stumbled forward. The strike snapped his head up and he fell to the floor, groaning, the knife popping from his grip and sliding under the shelving unit.
Beckett grabbed the envelope and sprinted up the stairs, exploding into the kitchen and out to the courtyard. He yelled as he went. “Laney!” But he knew even as he ran to the cabin that he was too late. Levi stood in the doorway, hands on hips, Admiral whining and clattering in anxious circles around the front room. Irene’s car was gone.
“I was just about to call you.” Levi frowned. “Where’s Laney?” He looked closer. “Are you bleeding?”
“Can’t explain right now. Kenny’s in the basement, semiconscious. Get your rifle. Herm can help you tie him up. I have to go.”
“Where?” Levi yelled after him.
To save my wife and my baby.
He leaped into the truck and gunned the motor, dialing as he went. He hadn’t finished his own call when his phone lit up with another.
He thumbed it on. “Don’t hurt her,” he almost shouted.
Irene sounded a million miles away. “Bring me what Rita left, and she’ll be fine. I’m going to leave Death Valley and you’ll never see me again. I want the papers and the pills. You give them to me and I won’t kill her.”
“But…” he choked out.
“Drive north from the hotel for ten miles and stop. I’ll call you again. No police or she dies.”
He was left with a dial tone and his heart beating with such violence he thought his sternum would crack open. Hardly able to breathe, he drove out of the hotel parking lot. Another incoming call sounded from his phone. He stared at the number before he answered.
“Jude, listen.”
“What is going on?” his cousin barked. “I just talked to Levi…”
Beckett cut him off. “Dr. Irene killed Pauline to cover up malpractice. Where are you?”
“I’m two minutes from the hotel.”
“I need your help.”
“I’ll…” Jude started.
“Not the Inyo County police department, Jude. You. Please. She has Laney.”
There was a heavy silence. He knew his cousin was measuring their history, the distrust, the anger and weight of everything that had passed between them since he’d stepped into the wrestling ring with Dan all those years ago.
“All right,” he said finally. “I’m almost there.”
“No red lights and sirens.”
&
nbsp; “Beck, if this doesn’t work…”
“If it doesn’t work, then nothing else matters.”
His answer was clipped, terse. “Copy that. Wait right there.”
And then Beckett pulled to the shoulder, gripped the steering wheel, counting the seconds and praying with all his might that he would get there in time.
* * *
Laney felt as though her head was stuffed full of cotton. Her senses were numb, slow, cramped as her eyes slowly opened. She was in the back seat of a car. Panic exploded as she realized her ankles were bound with duct tape, hands raised above her and zip-tied through the handle intended to help back-seat passengers exit the vehicle.
Irene peered in the rearview mirror.
“Hi, Laney. I hope the ties aren’t too tight. I hated to do it, but I didn’t want you coming to while I was driving.”
“You…drugged me?”
“A mild sedative. Won’t hurt the baby, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
She gaped. Could Irene really have drugged and abducted her? She tugged on the wrist binding. “Let me loose.”
“When Beckett brings me what I want.”
So Rita really had left something at the hotel. “It’s proof, isn’t it? Proof that you killed Pauline.” She could barely believe her own words.
Irene shot a quick look at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m a good doctor.”
A good doctor? Had she heard correctly? She peered out the window, trying to gauge how far they were from the hotel. She did not recognize any landmarks. They had diverted course from the main road, traveling one of the thousands of isolated trails that crisscrossed Death Valley. Remote trails, where it was unlikely to see another human being for days, perhaps even months. Her mouth went dry. “Yes,” she said, distractedly. “A good doctor.”
“My father never thought I could do it. I was expelled from high school. I cheated on a test, just one, but they chucked me out anyway. Humiliating. I had to get my GED. But I persevered, in spite of everything, got massive student loans and put myself through medical school. It was the best moment in my life when I walked across that stage and they handed me my medical license. You know what my father said at the ceremony?”