Jilly’s hands fluttered out to her sides like trapped birds. Her mouth opened and closed, open and closed. The gun fell out of Otto’s hand and, to Jilly’s amazement, landed silently on the kitchen floor. Her hands came up to cover her ears; she heard a loud rushing noise and finally her hearing came back.
Cat groaned. She rolled over and tried to get up. Jilly’s feet came unglued and she rushed to help her. “Check on the babies and Gwen!” she told Tage. “Where are they?” she asked Otto, but he was sitting at the kitchen table, scratching madly in his journal, his pen clutched in his fist.
Jilly thought his mind had snapped. She wouldn’t have blamed him if it did. The whole scene was unbearable and grisly.
Cat groaned again and caught her breath. “Jesus,” she croaked.
“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Jilly looked frantically around the kitchen. “What are we going to do?”
Gwen and Tage came into the kitchen. Tage carried both girls because Gwen was crying and flinging her hands about in a helpless manner.
“My God!” Gwen said. Her eyes widened with horror at the amount of blood spattered about the kitchen. She turned to Tage. “Take the girls in the living room for me, please! Don’t let them see this! I’ll be in to get them in a minute.”
She knelt down beside Cat. “Cat? Can you hear me?”
Cat nodded. With Jilly on one side and Gwen on the other, they managed to get her into a kitchen chair. “I can’t believe he did this,” she said, her musical voice scratched and wounded. She hunched over, her hands clutching each side of her ribs. “Is he dead?” she asked.
Gwen’s face was stricken as she bent down to feel for a pulse in Reuben’s neck. “I don’t—I can’t find his heartbeat.”
“Good,” Cat said flatly. She coughed and moaned from the pain. “I should have never stayed here. I knew he was crazy. And now—look what I’ve done.”
“You haven’t done anything,” Gwen said, her voice fierce and certain.
“You haven’t,” Jilly echoed; she sat down at the kitchen table and dropped her face into her hands. “It was Reuben. He would have killed you all!”
“Maybe so,” Cat wheezed. “But Otto shot him and Reuben wasn’t going after him at the time. Does that mean he murdered Reuben?” Her voice rose up hysterically at the end.
“Reuben was going to kill Otto when he got through with you,” Jilly reminded her.
“Gwen, are the girls okay?” Cat asked.
Gwen looked toward the living room. She nodded.
“Thank God! Thank God!” Cat mumbled. “You better go to them. Bundle them up and go over to Mackenzie’s with them.”
Gwen ran to do as she suggested, and Tage came into the kitchen.
“Tage?” Cat said. “You’ve got to go with her. Then go into town and get the police. Tell them to come out here right away.” When Tage looked as though he might argue, she added, “Please.” And her voice was so hurt and tired that he patted her shoulder and did as she asked.
The house got quiet again after they left. Jilly shuddered. Reuben lay dead not four feet away from her; Otto sat, not saying a word, at the kitchen table, and Cat was making tiny gasping noises as she breathed.
“Otto?” Cat called his name softly.
He turned blank eyes toward her.
“You okay?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and Jilly saw the tears streak down her cheeks.
Otto shook his head.
He seemed to be operating on some basic level; shooting a man, no matter what the circumstances, was nothing like they showed in the movies. It was real,
Jilly thought and her stomach turned sickly. The blood, the screams, the deafening noise of the gun. How come nobody ever showed how truly terrible it was to take another human’s life? Movies glorified the violence, and even the media only revealed the physical details, but neither could ever capture the genuine emotional impact.
She stood up and went to Otto, wrapping her arms around his stiff shoulders to hold him for a minute. His journal was open in front of him.
Her mouth went dry when she saw what he had written over and over again down the empty white page: I SHOT REUBEN PAYNE. I SHOT REUBEN PAYNE. I SHOT REUBEN PAYNE.
Jilly let go of Otto and pushed her hands through her hair. What was he doing? Why had he written that horrific sentence time and time again?
Suddenly she knew and her skin tightened with alarm.
He loved Cat so much he didn’t want to forget he was the one who took Reuben’s life. He had to protect Cat’s innocence.
*
Jilly watched, her mind too numbed to speak, as Cat painfully helped Otto out of his chair and up the stairs. “I’m going to put him to bed,” she told Jilly. “This shock--”
She couldn’t finish her sentence, but Jilly knew what she meant. The shock might end up killing Otto, too.
It gave her the shivering creeps to be the only one left in the room with Reuben, and she snatched up Otto’s journal and retreated to the living room. She didn’t know how long she sat there before Cat came to find her.
“The police will be here soon,” Cat said. “Otto’s asleep.” She eased down on the sofa beside Jilly. “I’m sorry,” she said. She gave a shake of her head. “I’m sorry this was all brought into this house. I wish I had shot Reuben; I don’t know what’s going to happen to Otto.” Her voice shook. “Is it self-defense to defend someone else?”
“You didn’t bring anything bad to this house,” Jilly said. “Reuben’s the one who wouldn’t leave you alone.” She pushed Otto’s journal onto Cat’s lap. “Only, I don’t know what to do about this.”
Cat flipped open the journal. Jilly saw her blink in astonishment as she read what Otto had written.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Cat said finally. She reached down and carefully tore out the incriminating page.
She was stealing Otto’s memory, Jill realized, for his own protection. Otto would never deny he was the one who shot Reuben, but if he literally couldn’t remember, that would be okay, wouldn’t it?
“Are you sure?” she whispered to Cat.
They heard a knock on the door and Cat stood up and went to answer it; Otto’s incriminating handwritten confession was crumpled up in Cat’s pocket, and she carried Otto’s journal with her.
Cat pulled open the door and Jilly saw two police officers standing there. “Come in,” Cat said. “I’m afraid there’s been a terrible accident.” She stepped back so the officers could see Reuben’s body on the kitchen floor. She gave Jilly an unfathomable look and she said, loud and clear, “I shot Reuben Payne.”
Chapter XXVII.
“What do you mean you don’t know what Cat told them?” Jilly asked Gwen and Tage. “Is she in jail?” Tage had watched the children while Mackenzie and Gwen had gone to town to find out about Cat. Jilly had stayed with Otto, who slept upstairs, not stirring, not even when the ambulance came to take away Reuben’s body. Jilly had hugged herself, her nails digging into the backs of her arms when she saw them cover his face. And now Tage and Gwen had returned to Otto’s, each carrying one of the girls, who were also asleep.
“Dad told me the police said they were getting a statement from her,” Tage said. He lowered Shye onto the couch. She never woke.
“Did you tell them Reuben’s been hanging around here terrorizing us for months? Did you tell them Cat was only protecting herself and all of us, too? Did you--”
“They wouldn’t let us say anything,” Gwen told her. “And Cat kept insisting we leave to take care of things at home.” She bounced Ariana gently. The baby squirmed restlessly at the sound of Jilly’s panicked voice. “The police only said they might have to book her, and if they did, we might be able to get her out if we could raise the bail money.”
“Did Cat get the shotgun for the police?” Tage asked.
Jilly nodded.
“Then her fingerprints are on it,” Tage said. “I thin
k she’s doing the right thing,” he said. “I don’t know if Otto would be charged with murder, but if Cat says she was defending herself . . .” He trailed off, his meaning clear.
It was two o’clock in the morning. Jilly still held Otto’s journal that Cat had given her for safe-keeping before she left. “Maybe,” Cat had said to Jilly, “maybe you better hang onto this for awhile, just until I get back. Otto—he would be hurt if he read about us in here, and then—” She couldn’t say anymore, but Jilly knew she was trying to say Otto would be heart-broken if he read his memories of Cat and his love for her, and she wasn’t around. As mean as it seemed, it was better to leave him in the dark, to renew his day memories the way she used to before Cat came. At least until they got Cat home, safe and sound.
“Bail money?” Jilly said. “What bail money?”
“Try not to worry,” Gwen said.
Jilly met Tage’s glance. He looked as worried as she felt. Where would they ever get money to bail Cat out of jail?
“We don’t have any money,” Jilly said flatly. “You know that.”
Gwen hands trembled against Ariana’s blanket. “I know,” she soothed. “But Mackenzie said he’d get all the money we needed.” She glared at Tage and Jilly. “Don’t look at me like that! I know you think that I think Mackenzie can do anything, but in this case it’s true! He’d never say such a thing if he couldn’t do it!”
Tage’s face had gone pale, leaving his eyes dark and hollow. Jilly instinctively reached out and grabbed his hand. She felt incapable of speaking. She knew where Mackenzie was going to get the money. And so did Tage.
“I’m going to tuck Ariana in, and then I’ll come back and get Shye,” Gwen said.
“My God!” Tage said thickly after Gwen disappeared up the stairs.
Jilly tucked Otto’s journal under the cushion of the living room chair, and sat down on top of it. “We’ve got to stop him,” she said. “You know we do.”
Tage looked at her. “If he’s crazy enough to give that money to the police—”
“He’s crazy enough in love with Gwen to do anything for her, you know that.
But we can’t let him. We’d end up losing both Cat and your dad!”
Gwen came downstairs and scooped up Shye. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “And I think you two ought to do the same. Why don’t you stay here tonight, Tage? Mackenzie’s going to come over here first thing in the morning when he gets back from wherever he was going.” She hesitated, and shook her head as though in disbelief at something someone said. She started up the stairs, before turning around. “You don’t think your father would—”
“Would what?” Tage asked.
Gwen pinched her lips together, and looked away. But then she looked back. “Do your relatives have any money they’d lend to Mackenzie?”
Tage shook his head. “They don’t have that kind of money, Gwen.” He hesitated, his face, usually calm and strong appeared drawn and shaken. “What exactly has my father told you?”
Gwen looked back at Tage. “Everything,” she said simply.
“If he told you he could get money, there’s only one place he’d go,” Tage said. “Do you know what I mean?”
Gwen’s hands tightened visibly around Shye. “He can’t do that.” She looked desperately at Tage. “You’ve got to stop him. If he brings that money back—I don’t know what will happen!”
“I don’t either,” Tage said, his voice bleak.
“We’ll find him,” Jilly said. She hugged Gwen quickly. “We’ll bring him back.”
Gwen nodded, but her eyes were filled with unshed tears. “I don’t want to lose him,” she said.
Love sure wasn’t all moonlight and roses, Jilly thought. And maybe she knew for sure, now, that there was no such thing as fairytales and happily-ever-afters.
But there was something better than make-believe. She could see that in the way the people around her loved each other no matter what.
Jilly wanted to tell Tage that, but there was no time. She grabbed her coat. “Let’s go,” she said to Tage, and they went out into the cold black morning.
*
The way to the deadmen caves was long and spooky, especially after they turned off the road and were making their way in the dark between broken trees growing out of crevices cut in the earth. The ice storm’s damage was still apparent: branches and trees blocked any path they might have been able to follow and left skeletal trunks, jagged and frightening, rising into the night air. Jilly could hear the sound of crickets or frogs and the clatter of some small animal rushing through the tree tops. She hoped it was a squirrel, a nice friendly squirrel with a bushy tail.
They’d ceased talking when they started down the steepest incline, concentrating on their footing, but when they reached the bottom Tage called a halt. “Let me get my bearings,” he said. “It’s different up here in the dark.”
Jilly peered into the blackness, and she caught a glimpse of a blinking star. It winked as she was going to point it out to Tage, and she realized it was too low to be a star. “I saw something,” she said, pointing in the general direction.
They stood there and, for just a second, the light flashed again. “Come on,” Tage said. “I think that’s him. He’s almost to the caves.”
They hurried through the brush, branches tearing at Jilly’s hair and skin, but she didn’t slow down. If Mackenzie left with the money before they could stop him, Gwen and the girls would lose him, she knew that. Even if the police couldn’t return him to jail, and she wasn’t sure about that, once that money was discovered, Mackenzie’s place in Briar Rose would be gone for good.
What she couldn’t reconcile was the fact that saving Mackenzie meant giving up their chance to bail Cat out of jail.
Cat wouldn’t want the money, Jilly thought, her mind working desperately.
She would never want to be the cause of harm to anyone; that’s what made her so special. Most people, when push came to shove, thought of themselves first, whether they would admit it or not, but Cat wasn’t that way at all. She was truly good, deep down inside herself, and she would act the same way in front of a million people, or one person, or when she was all by herself. That’s why Jilly found Cat so easy to love.
“It’s up here,” Tage grunted. He reached out and pulled Jilly up behind him. “There’s an edge. Be careful.”
Jilly side-stepped along the ridge, following Tage’s lead, and then the cave’s opening yawned wide in front of them.
“Come on,” he whispered. “It’s in the back.”
She wondered why he was whispering, but understood when she felt something flutter past her face. Bats. She reached out and clenched the back of Tage’s coat. Who knew what else was alive in here? She felt a cobweb stick to her cheek and she brushed the sticky threads away with one hand.
After they walked a few feet into the cave, the blackness was complete. She didn’t know how Tage was moving ahead, she only followed him blindly. Then, suddenly, she saw a beam of light.
“Dad?” Tage said.
Jilly stepped up beside Tage. She saw Mackenzie’s face in the glow of the flashlight. He looked scared, but then his face relaxed.
“So you did remember coming up here all those years ago,” Mackenzie said. He sighed. “I wish you didn’t. I wish I had never—” He motioned them over with the flashlight. “If wishes were horses . . .” he murmured.
“Did you find it?” Tage asked.
In answer, Mackenzie beamed the light toward his feet and Jilly saw a canvas sack, tied off at the top, sitting there. Her breath caught. Until this very moment, she wasn’t aware that she didn’t really believe in the hidden money. She started to shiver uncontrollably.
“Sixty-six thousand dollars,” Mackenzie said flatly. “Thirteen years of my life.” He laughed shortly. “To tell you the truth, I wished so many times for this money to disappear, it almost surprised me to find it still here.”
“You can’t take it, Dad,” Tage said. “You kno
w you can’t.”
Mackenzie sighed. “I have to,” he said. “I promised Gwen.”
“But you promised her other things, too, Dad. Things that matter more than money.”
“But what about Cat?” Mackenzie said softly. “This isn’t just about money.”
Jilly’s teeth chattered; she sounded like a slightly insane chipmunk. She tried to clench her jaw together, but she couldn’t stop shaking. “Gwen doesn’t want you to take it,” Jilly told him. “She said she’d rather have you than all the problems this money would bring home.” The dampness of the cave air sank into her spine and she shuddered again. “And Cat wouldn’t want you to risk taking this money for her, either.”
Tage reached out to her, his hand, warm and strong, engulfing her own. “You’re freezing,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” She wondered if the shock of the situation was finally catching up with her.
“Don’t be sorry,” Mackenzie said. “We’re up here now; we might as well build a fire to warm up before we go back. Let’s go back toward the front of the cave, and we’ll get some wood.”
They followed him out of the darkest part of the cave. Jilly thought the air warmed up the closer they got to outside.
“Sit right here and hold the light,” he told Jilly when they were a few yards from the entrance. She could see the opening, a lighter shade of dark, in the distance. He sat the bag of money by her side. “Help me gather up some wood, son.”
They worked quickly and built a small fire near Jilly. After it was going, they circled around it, and Jilly hunched forward, clasping her hands around her knees. Their faces glowed orange in the light. Mackenzie squatted down and held his hands out toward the flames. “I can’t let that lovely woman sit in jail, Tage,” he said slowly. “I know what that’s like.”
“But you could end up back there yourself,” Tage said. “Then where would Gwen be? Where would I be? And Shye and Ariana?”
“I’m not going to go to jail again.” Mackenzie’s voice came out husky. “I paid for this money. With years. The bank’s not out anything. They were insured; if I give the money back to them, they’ll just have to turn it over to the insurance company.”
I Love You, Jilly Sanders Page 20