Killing Bliss

by EC Sheedy

  Addy burst through the door at his side, slamming it so hard against the wall it damn near came off its hinges.

  As a distraction, it worked. Cade didn't waste it.

  He dove for Grover's knees. He heard a shot whistle past his ear in the second before the bastard hit the floor, his back hitting it with a bone-cracking thud, his lungs expelling their air in a rough, noisy gush.

  Vanelleto's sneaker-clad foot stomped on Grover's wrist, ground it into the carpet. "You won't be needing this anymore," he said, taking the gun from his hand and dangling it at his side. He sneered down at him. "You really are a pathetic bag of crap." When he took his foot off his arm, Grover curled into a ball.

  Cade got to his feet, ignored the sear of pain across his shoulder. "Is everyone all right? No one hit?"

  "Just my ceiling." Addy pointed a shaking hand up to where a crumble of plaster surrounded a dark hole.

  He nodded at her, relief choking his chest.

  "You always did come through, Wart," Gus said, shifting the gun into his other hand, then looking at Cade. "That was gutsy, Harding," he said, then handed him the gun. "Look after this garbage, would you?" He made for the door.

  "Where are you going?" Addy called out.

  His eyes were bleak and angry. "To Beauty. Where else?" At the door, he stared long and hard at Bliss and Grover. "I suspect these two, given the chance, will talk your head off." He stopped and seemed to consider his next words. "But because most of it will be lies, it'd be better if you save the wear and tear on your ears until I get back. That way, you'll get the whole story." He paused, and for a second looked weary. "And for what it's worth, the true story."

  It crossed Cade's mind Vanelleto might take off; now that Bliss was immobilized there was no reason for him to stay.

  The two men's gazes met and locked. And as if Vanelleto knew Cade's thoughts, he added. "I'll be back, Harding."

  Cade studied him, nodded. "Make it quick."

  Vanelleto nodded, then glanced at Susan, his expression impenetrable. "Better she hear what she has to hear from me than them."

  When Vanelleto turned to go, Addy ran toward him and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm coming with you."

  "No. You stay here with Harding. He needs a good pair of arms." He smoothed her shower-wet hair off her brow, kissed it. "I'll be back, Wart. I promise." He looked down at Grover, who was still curled in a fetal position at Cade's feet. "It's past time to put out the garbage." Looking again at Addy, he added almost formally, "Do you agree?"

  His tone was serious, his look intense, and left no doubt Addy's answer mattered to him.

  She didn't speak for a moment, then said, "Yes, Gus, I do. And I think Beauty would, too. And"—she stopped as if nervous about her next words—"we owe it... to that boy."

  Cade heard Susan, now standing beside him, let out a noisy, nervous breath. "Yes, you do, because 'that boy' we're talking about is my only grandson, the only link I have to my daughter. And his name is Josh, damn it. Josh Moore," she added firmly, as if the name gave him substance and life—and credence to her claim.

  Vanelleto ignored Susan's outburst, but his expression darkened. "I never wanted you to know, Wart..." His voice was flat, when he went on. "I made a mistake back then. Beauty and me."

  "We all did, Gus. We shouldn't have left him. We shouldn't have run."

  Vanelleto started to speak, seemed to think better of it. "I'll be back," he said, and with that terse promise, he went out the door.

  Addy stared at the closed door for a long moment, then turned her battered face toward Cade. A cut over her eye seeped red. For the first time since he'd walked onto her property, she looked small and tired—as if she didn't have any spirit left to draw upon.

  He wanted to pull her close, tell her everything would be okay, but that would mean soothing with wishes and lies, and there'd been too many of both already. The room heaved under them—and under the threat of what nightmares lurked in the truth promised by Vanelleto. Cade drew in a breath. For that, they had to wait, which made keeping her and Susan busy his only option.

  "Would you do what you can for Bliss's leg?" he said to Susan.

  She took a breath, pulled her gaze from the door, then rolled her eyes. "Aren't I the lucky one?" She left the room to get some fresh towels.

  Cade looked at Addy, who continued to stare at him with a vacant expression. "How about your giving me a hand with Grover? Some more duct tape would help. It's on the counter by the fridge."

  She blinked, then nodded. "I'll get it."

  When they had the trembling, mumbling Grover secured and sitting in a chair opposite a murderously glaring Bliss, Addy touched his hand. "Is your arm okay?"

  "Fine. But it might be a good idea to change the bandage." He unbuttoned his shirt, caught Susan's surprised look as she arrived back in the room—a look to remind him she'd changed it minutes before Addy got home. Thankfully, she said nothing, and got started cleaning and bandaging Bliss's leg the best she could.

  Silently, Addy changed the dressing on Cade's wound. When she spoke it was softly, so Susan couldn't hear. "You lied to me." She didn't lift her eyes from her task. "I don't much like liars."

  "I don't much like women wanted for murder either, but I'm in love with one."

  She took her hands from his shoulder and sat back in the straight wooden chair she'd pulled up close to his so she could work on him. Her face somber, eyes the color of rain, she said, "You know what I think?"

  He tilted his head, raised a brow, and waited.

  "I think we should leave all this... love stuff until Gus comes back and says what needs to be said."

  He shrugged into his shirt. "I think you're right."

  So you'd better get the hell back here on the double, Vanelleto.

  * * *

  Beauty wondered when it got so dark, why there was so much weight on her eyes. She tried to force them open, but they resisted. And the sounds—she couldn't place them. Beeps, whirrs, and something like music seeped into her space from far away.

  I'm falling. Falling, falling...

  Panic grew, a thickness in her chest, rolling and heaving. She raised a hand to grab something, anything, but there was only air and fear. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see.

  "Shush, easy now, baby." A strong hand gripped hers, and she clasped it. Hung on.

  Dreams now. Old voices...

  "Take it easy. You'll be okay."

  Still too dark. Not okay. She wanted to tear open her eyes, see the voice, see who was lying to her. Couldn't. A hand on her hair now, smoothing it, tucking strands behind her ear.

  A kiss on her forehead, light as down. Familiar.

  It had to be...

  She willed her eyes open. One of them offered a sliver of vision, and she looked into the dark eyes of the man she'd thought she'd never see again.

  "Gus?" Saying his name took effort, left only enough strength to curl her hand in his. A hand she didn't intend on letting go. Ever.

  "In the flesh." The barest of smiles lifted his lips, and he brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it, and said, "We were worried about you, Beauty." He stroked her forehead, toyed with her hair.

  Her eyes drifted closed again, this time against the pain, coming first in slow-moving waves, then sharp, hard stabs through her back, her chest. She gasped, and the hand holding hers tightened its grip.

  "You'll be okay in a minute or two. The nurse gave you something. Breathe for a bit. Try to relax."

  She did what she was told. Gus was right. Gus was always right.

  "Bliss?" she said, and the gnaw of panic rushed to join the pain.

  "Taken care of."

  She had to know. Had he done what she couldn't? "Did you..." She couldn't finish.

  "He's alive."

  God, what was wrong with her? She was actually relieved. "Addy?"

  "Fine. You got the worst of it, baby."

  "If it got you here"—she swallowed—"it's worth it."

  He didn't an
swer that, and she turned her head to use what vision she had to look more closely at him. So dark and... beautiful. Her pain faded, its edge numbed by the drugs, and she managed a deeper breath.

  "We need to talk," he said abruptly. "You up for it?"

  She nodded. She'd talk forever if that's what he wanted, but her mind drifted, floated in a way she couldn't control. She had the urge to let it go, but she hung on. Gus was here; she couldn't go.

  "First, you should know I never intended to kill Bliss. I intended to give him the money he wanted and make sure he never threatened either you or Addy again." He lapsed into silence.

  "And?" She said the word and coughed. Pain roared through her battered body.

  "Turns out there's more to it than that. Other lives to... think about." He stood suddenly and looked down at her. "We know we didn't kill Belle Bliss. It's past time everyone else did, too. That leaves a problem."

  The loss of his hand in hers was like an amputation, the words he spoke, "other lives," chilled her heart. She ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them, but it was too dry for the job. Even in her drugged state, she knew the problem he was talking about. She'd had nightmares about it for years. "You mean"—she swallowed hard and the ache of it touched her lungs—"the... boy?"

  He nodded. "There's something you don't know about that night, Beauty. Something I never told you—or Addy."

  No.

  She wanted to clap her hands over her ears, didn't want to hear her darkest fear made fact, but her arms were useless, her hands too burdensome to lift. "I killed him... didn't I? I killed that baby." Her words hit the air, terrible and slow, a spill of acid into fog. She looked at Gus, but his face blurred, and she couldn't get back her focus.

  "My God, is that what you've been thinking all these years?"

  "The pillow. I held it... too long?" she whispered, the words sick and ragged.

  "No. You didn't hurt him. He was okay. I said I'd take care of him, and I did."

  "I thought that meant"—tears trickled from the corner of her eyes and ran into her hair—"you'd... buried him."

  "Jesus."

  "You went away. I never... heard from you." The last words came out slurred, halting, and she entered a slow drifting. Suddenly cold. Too cold.

  Gus sat down, and again took her hand in his, holding it between both of his. "Beauty, listen to me. I loved you. I didn't want you or Addy involved more than you were already. I figured... hell, I don't know what I figured."

  Loved you.

  Her eyes closed. Dark blue behind them. Like a midnight sky. His hand on her forehead, stroking softly.

  Her eyes so heavy now, limbs loose like rubber, breath like a steady wind. No dreams. No nightmare. No pillow.

  Thank God, no pillow...

  "The boy..." she said, the words coming in a new wash of pain, pushed from her raw throat by her desperate need to know. To be sure. "Tell me..."

  "He's alive, Beauty. Alive. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. Do you hear me?" His hands gripped her arm and his voice was rough. Scared? No, Gus was never scared. "You hang on. You hear me? You hang on."

  "Alive." She repeated.

  Gus said something more in a low, urgent voice. Something about "making things right" She couldn't make sense of it, couldn't pull more words with her into her sea of calm. Only four.

  Loved you...

  He's alive...

  She smiled with paper-dry lips and tightened her fingers around Gus's big hand.

  Chapter 26

  When Gus returned to Star Lake, night had begun its exit, and a gray light lay spread across the waters of Star Lake like a clean, ironed sheet. The rain, thank God, had finally stopped, leaving the lake willow sagging and the tall hemlock beside the office dripping sullenly on Addy's cedar shake roof.

  Addy watched him walk toward her door, a coffee steaming in her hand as it did every morning when she took her first look at her lake. But this morning, her heart was a stone in her chest, and her head was so stuffed with questions and confusions that she couldn't think straight.

  She met him at the door. "How is she?"

  His whole face went mask tight. The room deadened to silence.

  Cade pushed his chair back from the table and stood.

  "Gus?" she pressed, "what is it?" After over an hour in a room with a silent Cade and two men subdued by duct tape, she was desperate for news of Beauty. She'd called the hospital of course, but they doled out information as if each word were a security leak. "Did you talk to the doctor? What did he say?" She watched him take a deep breath.

  "Where's Stan?" Susan asked, her face pale and nervous. "Why isn't he with you?"

  Gus looked at both women, and to Addy's irritation chose to answer Susan's question first. "He's right behind me. Be here any second."

  "Gus," Addy said, not caring where Stan was. "Tell me about Beauty."

  "Beauty's dead, Addy."

  Addy's throat closed, her stomach retracted, as if hit by a low, direct blow to its most vulnerable part. She clasped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. "Oh, my God."

  Cade came to her side, put his arm around her shoulder.

  "I can't believe... I thought she'd be okay," she said.

  "More internal damage than they figured." Gus rubbed his face, his expression tired and stricken.

  Addy left Cade's protective arm to embrace him. "Oh, Gus..."

  He pulled away from her, ran a hand through his dark hair, and she saw him straighten, slant a lethal glance in the direction of Bliss. "And that makes this son-of-a-bitch a murderer."

  Cade moved in front of Bliss.

  Gus shook his head. "Don't worry, Harding, there's been enough killing for one night. I'm not going to touch that piece of shit—as long as he ends up where he fuckin' belongs. Behind a fence, for the rest of his life."

  He looked at Grover then, walked to him, and ripped the tape from his mouth. "You want to start or should I?"

  Grover, who'd clenched his eyes closed when the tape came off, opened them to Cade's calm, questioning gaze, and Gus's menacing one. He started to cry.

  "Jesus." Gus shook his head, turned his back on him, and nodded toward Addy's kitchen table. "Might as well sit down. This might take a while."

  Cade again placed his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay? Can you handle this?" he asked quietly.

  She hadn't intended to, but she put her hand on his, held it a moment Then she thought of Beauty... dead, of what Gus might say, and tears filled her eyes.

  "Save the tears, Wart. We've got work to do—for Beauty." It was a Gus-style order, but gently said.

  She nodded, brushed the moisture from her cheeks, but she couldn't stop her nerves from sparking like power lines in a storm, or her stomach from curling into itself. She wanted to run, escape this room and all the cruel secrets bearing down on it. The deadly truths.

  Addy again touched Cade's hand. "I'll be fine."

  Stan came in just as they'd all taken seats at the table.

  "I miss anything?" he said to Gus, taking a stool at the kitchen counter.

  Gus's response was a head shake, then he turned and glanced around the table. "Grover killed Belle," he said. "I know it and Bliss knows it."

  Addy's eyes shot to his. "You saw him? Grover killing Belle?" She'd thought he and Beauty were in Belle's room trying to quiet the baby.

  Gus nodded curtly, added, "I didn't tell you, because the way things went down, I didn't see the point. And before you ask, no, Beauty didn't see anything. She was taking care of the boy."

  When it looked as though Susan would speak, Stan shook his head.

  "That's not the way Bliss tells it," Cade said, his policeman eyes fixed on Gus like those beams from a movie spaceship.

  "No shit." Gus said, heavy with scorn.

  "Right now I don't care who killed Belle Bliss or why. I want to know what happened to my grandson," Susan demanded, "or I'll call the police right now."

  Gus shot her an ominous look, dark and frustrat
ed.

  Cade touched her hand, squeezed it. "We need the whole story, Susan." He paused. "There are two people in this room wanted for a murder they say they didn't commit, another lying dead in the hospital. We need to know everything, for their sakes—and to find out about Josh."

  "I don't—" she started.

  "Please." Cade said in that soft way he had.

  "Cade's right, Susie. Be patient," Stan said. He got up from his stool and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

  It took a moment, but Susan finally nodded, then turned her frowning attention back to Gus. "Get on with it then."

  Gus looked back at Cade. "You know most of it, I think, from Addy. Grover brought the baby sometime in the afternoon. Belle put him in her bedroom, which was at the bottom of the stairs, just off the living room. He was screaming when she put him in there and he never stopped. Addy here"—he glanced her way—"wanted to go down there. Do something to help. I told her not to. It was too dangerous. They were drinking, Belle and her boys, and when they got into the booze, anything could happen."

  Addy interrupted. "And Gus was bleeding all over the place from where Belle hit him with the poker."

  Susan looked at the scar on Gus's face. "Why did she do that?"

  "She didn't like what he did to Frank."

  Susan frowned again.

  Addy stared at her, wanting her to understand, but knew she didn't get it. How could she? She'd never lived in a cesspool, never been forced to witness things from the downside up. She'd have to say it again, flat out. "You know Frank raped Beauty, but he did more than that... awful things. He kept her in that shed for hours, raped her over and over again, then beat her something terrible." She paused, looked toward Gus. "When Gus found out, he went after him. Did some beating of his own. Belle caught him—with a poker in her hand."

  Susan's face paled. "I see."

  Gus went on. "Because of Beauty, Addy, all of it, I wanted to take off that night." He stopped. "Lousy plan with lousy timing.

  "Addy patched us up, and I went down to see if I could figure a way to get out of the house without being seen. My plan was to get the car keys, whatever cash was lying around and get the hell out of there full throttle." His glance swept the table of rapt listeners, and he shrugged. "I never said I was an angel." After a pause he added, "Beauty followed me down. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, we had to duck into Belle's room—where the boy was—to avoid Frank, who was heading to the back door about the same time. He took the damn car, went to get more booze, which meant Beauty and I were in for a wait. Anyway, when the boy—"