by Shara Lanel
“Ma’am?”
Kerry lowered the gun, then tossed it a few feet to her left. The officers rushed up, one dragging her backwards, another covering Rodriguez and Stephan with his gun as he drew closer. A third cop yanked Rick off of Jason and to a standing position. Jason scrambled to his feet, then kneed Rick’s crotch before anyone could stop him. As Rick bent over in pain, someone tackled Jason to the ground and cuffed his hands behind his back.
“Please let go of me,” Kerry said to the officer who still held her pinned.
Without loosening his grip, he pulled her towards the closest cop car and shoved her into the back seat. Before she could protest, he said, “Just for now, ma’am, until this situation is completely under control, then we’ll take your statements and straighten out this mess.”
Kerry nodded, tucking her trembling hands into her lap and blinking rapidly not only against the tears, but to cleanse the grit from her eyes. Her scalp throbbed, as did her bruised arm. The areas of her body that had scraped against the gravel burned, but she was alive. She saw Rick straighten as the officer propelled him towards the car. Two more police vehicles entered the parking lot, sirens blaring.
The opposite door opened and Rick’s face appeared. The officer asked, “Is he okay with you, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
Rick managed a lopsided smile as the officer helped him onto the seat.
“We expect the paramedics to be here any moment. When they get here, they’ll take a look at your shoulder.”
Rick nodded. Once the door was closed, he reached for Kerry’s hand and gripped it. “I’m sorry.”
That did it. The tears fell. Kerry wrapped her arms around Rick and sobbed against his good shoulder. His arms tightened, holding her as if he would forever. When she’d regained some control, she said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who’s sorry, more than I can say. You’re hurt and it’s my fault!” The crying took over, noisy heaving sobs, and Rick smoothed her hair and held her tight.
Too soon they were separated. Rick was dragged off to the ambulance, then to the hospital. Evan arrived, but then followed the ambulance to the hospital. The cops read Jason his rights while towing him to another squad car. Then came the interrogations, first in the parking lot, then at the station. Evan and Lydia had explained the events at the office, so the cops were pretty clear on who the bad guys were, but they still had grilled Kerry for what seemed like hours until she’d spilled the whole sordid past.
Now she sat in a hard chair, facing a redheaded cop whose pale face reflected the blue of his computer screen.
“I know there’s not much you can do since there’s no body.” Kerry sighed, wishing desperately that she could go to the hospital and see Rick. Better yet, that they could both go back to his big bed and sleep for a few days.
“Actually, there is a body.”
Kerry gasped. “What body?”
“We called the San Diego PD after receiving Mr. Webley’s statement. Apparently a Mr. Reynolds—is he related to you?”
“Yes, my father. He’s not dead, is he?” Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t feel much for him—not after all that had happened—but he was still her father.
“Ah, no. Mr. Reynolds is the one who gave the statement. He described the murder committed by Mr. Sentron and his role in the whole affair, then he gave them the exact location of the body. Forensics has been through Mr. Sentron’s house and found corroborating evidence there as well. There’s an arrest warrant out for Mr. Sentron, who will most likely be extradited to San Diego to face murder charges after he’s arraigned for the charges he faces here in Richmond.”
“Oh, my God.” Kerry broke down again as the months of stress left her shoulders. The young cop handed her a tissue and told her a Ms. Lydia Delacroix was on her way to pick her up.
* * * *
The sun reflected off the streetlights as Lydia drove Rick’s BMW down Broad Street. “He’s at MCV,” Lydia said. “The doc said he’s stable and, since he’s so healthy, he’ll recover in no time.”
“Thank God.” She exhaled slowly. Thank God, she thought again, one more time for good measure.
“Do you want to see him?”
“Yes.” Kerry’s face felt like stone. She was afraid to see Rick, but knew it would be shameful to avoid him since he was in the hospital because of her. “Any news on your car?”
“No, but it’s well insured. Don’t worry about it.” She turned her head slightly. “What are you going to do now?”
Kerry gripped the leather upholstery. “I guess that depends on Rick, but I would like to get back to my job and stay at Rick’s until I’ve saved enough for an apartment.”
“Don’t you want to stay with Rick, you know, indefinitely?”
Kerry observed a traffic cop placing a ticket on someone’s windshield, remembering her Bug. It seemed a lifetime ago since Evan had towed it away. “No. He deserves better. I wouldn’t blame him if he kicked me out today. Look at the mess I’ve caused. Besides, I don’t want to be dependent on him anymore, on anyone. Jason took too much of my power away and I want it back. And my parents—God!—I can’t believe I just let them run my life even when I knew something was wrong. Well, never again. I’m not going to be dependent again.”
“Rick doesn’t want you to be dependent, you know. I think he just wants to be with you.”
Lydia drove into the MCV parking deck as Kerry said, “That may not be so—not now.” She turned to Lydia. “I thought you had a thing for him.”
She slipped expertly into a tiny parking space. “That was just to make Evan jealous.”
“Evan?”
Lydia blushed. “Yes, always Evan.”
Kerry thought she looked sad as they opened their doors and stepped out into the stifling heat.
* * * *
Evan hated the smell of hospitals—bleach and urine and recycled food. He’d spent a lot of time in one during his aunt’s cancer treatments, then during her recovery and relapse. And now here he was again in a dinky, hard chair in a hospital room, but this time he was waiting for his cousin to wake up. The doctor had said the surgery to remove the bullet had been successful and he expected Rick to undergo a full recovery, but it still made Evan nervous. He willed Rick’s eyes to open.
Finally, they did. “Cousin?”
Evan smiled as he gripped Rick’s hand. “I’m here, buddy. The doc says you’re going to be fine.”
Rick’s eyes moved beyond Evan. “Kerry?”
“She’s fine, too. Lydia picked her up at the police station and is driving her over here.”
“She didn’t leave.”
Evan grinned. “Nope. She’s like a bad penny you can’t get rid of.”
Humor flashed in Rick’s eyes as well. “I’ll have to keep her then.”
They lapsed into silence as a nurse came in to check Rick’s vitals. He was so pale and listless and it was Evan’s fault. He’d turned Kerry in and brought all this down on them. He cringed at the memory of Rick with blood all over him, and when he thought about Sentron with Lydia, knowing he could have raped or killed her, he felt physically ill. He would have risked a gunshot if it had come to that, but that wouldn’t make him a hero, only a fool trying to fix a problem after the fact.
And Kerry … his cousin had been right to call him a coward.
He watched the nurse change Rick’s bandages and knew he had to confess. Rick already knew he’d called Sentron and perhaps in his eyes that would be all that mattered, but Evan would come clean about all of it in the hopes that they could rebuild their friendship.
“And you and Lydia?” Rick asked when they were again alone.
“We’re fine. Don’t worry about us.” He took a deep breath. “Rick, I need to tell you a few things, get them off my chest.”
“Yes?”
“You know I saw the ad and called Sentron.”
“Yes.” He looked away.
“I really wasn’t out to hurt Kerry. I didn’
t even stop to think about why she didn’t just call home. I called about the ad for completely selfish reasons, for the twenty-five thousand dollar reward. I needed the money.”
“Why? My money is your money. We are family. All you needed to do was ask.”
“That’s what Lydia said. It was pride and embarrassment. I didn’t want to admit I’d screwed up. I don’t know how to run a business, how to keep the accounts, how to deal with customer complaints. I was in over my head and afraid to ask for help.
“But I also want to tell you about our aunt. Have you ever wondered why you inherited instead of me?”
“You didn’t inherit? None at all?”
“No.”
“My cousin, I didn’t realize. I would have given it to you had I known.”
“I know you would have—you’re a pushover—which is why I never asked.”
“But why would our aunt do this? I was a stranger.”
“Well, she loved her brother and always thought you belonged back here, so that was a lot of it, but she also knew a few things about me that she disapproved of and, in the end, that’s what she focused on.” He still resented it. Even knowing how many times he’d screwed up, he still believed he’d been dutiful and loyal to his aunt until the end.
“I drank too much, but I would never admit it. When she confronted me I got violent and broke some geegaw of hers. And later I told her she loved her things more than me, her flesh and blood. She swore it wasn’t true, but she refused to forgive me until I got help. I told her I was going bankrupt and she said she’d not loan me a cent until I went to credit counseling. Then—this is the worst—I was at the hospital with her. She was hurting and sick, but I was so stressed about the money, totally selfish. I told her she owed me for sitting with her all these weeks. I said where was my cousin the monk during all of this?”
Rick looked sad. “I didn’t know. I didn’t even know I had an aunt.”
Evan folded his hat brim with his fingers. “I know that now, Rick. I was just angry, scared and stupid. But telling her she owed me the inheritance was the last straw. Of course, I didn’t know that until the will was read.”
“So you befriended me for the money?”
“No! On that you gotta be clear. Yes, I resented the hell out of all this, but you’re a great guy, Rick, and I knew that the moment I met you.”
Their eyes met and held.
“Can you ever forgive me for all the shit I’ve put you through? You don’t have to right now, but can you think about it?”
Rick smiled and reached out his hand. “Evan, I forgive you. We are all safe and Sentron is in custody. It has all been for the best.”
Evan gave a small laugh and shook his head. How could his cousin remain so positive? All he could hope was that some of Rick’s honor and faith would rub off on him someday.
“Do you still need the money?”
“Let’s not talk about it now. Maybe I should sell the business. I don’t know. But I promise to ask for your help this time if I need it, deal?”
“Deal.”
* * * *
Kerry sipped tea as she flipped the channels of Rick’s television. Evan was picking him up at the hospital today. He’d asked Kerry to go with him, but she’d declined, and now she vegetated on Rick’s couch panicked at the thought of his homecoming. Did he still love her? Would he kick her out of his house? He’d tried to talk to her at the hospital, but the nurse had shooed her away, and, in truth, she’d been grateful for the reprieve. Her emotions were too raw, her guilt over getting him shot, over dragging Lydia and Evan into her mess, too fresh.
The doorbell rang. Not Rick, she thought, since he would come in the back door with his own key. Puzzled Kerry walked to the foyer and opened the door.
Her father stood on the small porch. He held a bouquet of flowers against his stomach and a sheepish expression covered his face.
When she didn’t speak, he said, “Kerry?”
Kerry blinked. “Daddy.” That was not the right term. Father was more appropriate, more distant.
“May I come in, sweetheart?”
She could slam the door in his face. He deserved that. Just then she noticed Evan’s truck parking at the curb. Rick stepped from the passenger side, full of grace as always, despite the sling holding his shoulder steady. His cousin bounded to his side and the two walked towards the house. Rick’s eyes met Kerry’s—held them.
“Kerry?” her father said again, sounding a bit sad this time.
Evan arrived first, bristling. “Kerry, is there some problem?”
“Uh…” she said, then Rick climbed up the porch steps, his gaze searing her. What did it mean?
“No, there isn’t a problem, young man. I’m here to talk to my daughter.”
Evan cracked his knuckles. “So, you’re the cretin that caused all of this?”
Rick laid a hand on his arm. He glanced at Mr. Reynolds, then said in his usual calm voice, “Kerry, why don’t we all go inside so we can talk privately?”
Kerry nodded and backed out of the doorway.
Mr. Reynolds stepped into Rick’s home and surveyed his surroundings, then stood awkwardly, apparently waiting for an invitation to sit. Rick, using his most regal British manner, gestured for Mr. Reynolds to sit in the straight-backed chair across from the couch. “May I offer you something to drink?”
Before Kerry’s father could answer, Evan grunted his disapproval and stalked to stand behind the couch.
“Uh, no thank you.” Mr. Reynolds looked perplexed.
“Kerry, why don’t you introduce us, unless you’d rather we leave you alone?”
Again Rick’s blue-eyed gaze seemed to bore into her soul. She moved to his side and looked down at her father. “Rick, this is my father, George Reynolds. Father, this is Rick Abernathy, the man who stopped Jason from killing me.”
“That’s it, Kerry,” Evan said in a low voice, but loud enough for her father to hear.
Kerry glanced at him. “And that is Evan Webley, Rick’s cousin and the man Jason held hostage last night.” Rick offered his and to Kerry's father, who hesitated, then shook it. Evan refused to perform the same courtesy. Relaxing a bit, Rick draped his arm across Kerry's shoulders, comforting her.
Kerry followed Rick’s lead to the couch and they sat down side by side. Rick took her hand and cocked his head as he waited for Mr. Reynolds to speak. Poor Father, Kerry thought, to have to speak in front of two honorable men—she could even consider Evan honorable when compared to Jason and her father—about his very dishonorable deeds. She could see that he sweated around his collar. His face was flushed and he blinked rapidly, reminding Kerry of a mouse that had just spied a cat. But she would not help ease him into this conversation. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to have this conversation, but she supposed it was for the best. At least, now that this was over, she could contact her sister without fear, and since they were on the same coast, perhaps they could visit each other from time to time.
“Uh, Kerry, I had hoped we could speak alone.”
“Had you?” Kerry felt a quick hand on her shoulder and realized it was Evan’s. Shocking.
“Well, yes … but I’m glad to meet your friends, glad to see you’ve made some friends here.” He didn’t comment on Kerry’s introductions. “Your mother misses you, dear. She’s been quite worried, not knowing if you were alive or dead.”
“Jason had the same worry it seems.”
Rick squeezed Kerry’s hand and his lips twitched, as if he was trying to suppress a smirk.
“Um, about that…”
“Yes?”
“I reported it to the police, you see.”
“And that was before or after you’d hid the body?” The contempt in Evan’s voice was palpable.
Kerry watched in wry amusement as her father’s face blanched. He made little choking noises, obviously torn between indignation and guilt. Kerry remained silent. She wanted to ask Rick about his arm and she wanted to know how Lydia was fa
ring, but instead she watched her father struggle to find the right words to say. His words wouldn’t matter though. It was his actions that counted. Jason could have killed her and dumped her body anywhere between here and California before her father had seen fit to do the right thing.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
Evan snorted, but Rick gave him a warning look over his shoulder, so he kept his opinions to himself for once. Kerry felt that her face was encased in cement, neutral in the extreme.
Her father tried again. “I’m so glad to see that you’re safe.”
“How is Mom?” she said, deciding to head off Evan’s next sarcastic remark.
“Oh, she’s fine, dear. She’s been chosen to chair the cotillion committee. Mrs. Sentron was on the committee last year and nominated her for the position. They’ve gotten to be good friends you see.”
Was he as oblivious as he seemed? Did he have no idea how that remark cut Kerry? She felt Rick’s arm settle around her shoulders again, so she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Kerry, I’ve come to take you home. Everyone misses you.”
“Who is everyone?”
“You know, your friend Lisa from Stanford, and Michaela has been quite beside herself.”
Finally, Kerry snapped. No more polite veneer. This was too ridiculous for words! “Michaela is Jason’s sister, Father, and Mrs. Sentron is Jason’s mother, and you still talk about them as if they are family to you! You’ve always wanted them to be, I know. Well, now you’re welcome to them, because I am no longer family to you. You haven’t changed, even if you did finally—after weeks—turn Jason into the police. For immunity, no doubt. You and Mother are still toadeaters and brownnosers and posers through and through. You wouldn’t know true friendship and loyalty if it stomped on your face.” Kerry stood. “Now if you will please leave, I have more important things to do.”
First her father looked stunned, then he hunched forward and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook and a tear ran down through his fingers. All three onlookers waited in silence. Finally regaining a semblance of control, Mr. Reynolds stood, looked at Kerry’s stony face, and turned towards the door.