by T. L. Haddix
“You don’t mean that. Look, what I said about your mother—”
“Don’t bring my mother into this. You need to go sober up.”
Wyatt looked straight at her, his voice quiet and tortured. “But I love you, Maria.”
“I love you, too. But I can’t do this right now. Go home.”
Without warning, Wyatt grabbed her hand and yanked her outside, shoving her in front of him as they ran down the walk. Gunfire erupted behind them. As they rounded the corner of the garage where Ethan was waiting, she felt Wyatt jerk, and he grunted. He stumbled into her and fell to his knees, and with terrifying clarity, she realized what the jerk had meant.
Cold with panic, she knelt down beside him and started tearing off his shirt, looking for blood. Wyatt was coughing and gasping for breath.
Ethan knelt beside them, his own face pale. “We’re clear inside. Where are you hit?”
“Shoulder,” Wyatt managed, pointing to his right side. With Ethan’s help, she got him out of his shirt and T-shirt. “I can’t feel my right arm.”
Reaching around, Ethan undid the vest, easing it away from Wyatt’s skin. He drew in a sharp breath. “The vest stopped the bullet, but you’ve already got a massive bruise forming. Any chest pain?”
Wyatt shook his head as he pulled Maria into his side with his left arm. “No. It just knocked the wind out of me.”
Maria clung to him, not bothering to try to hide her tears. “What about Whitaker?” she asked.
“He’s dead,” Stacy answered as she came around the corner. “Jason shot him.”
Ethan and Wyatt exchanged a look. “Go,” Wyatt said as Jason hurried across the yard, stopping at the curb to lean against a car and empty his stomach into the gutter. Ethan hurried to his side.
“This would happen now, right before his wedding,” Wyatt said, cursing. “Stacy, call the ambulance in, no siren, and ask them to send the coroner, too.”
“Can you stand?” Maria asked. He nodded, and she helped him get to his feet. As the ambulance pulled up, he groaned. “Guess it’s my turn to go to the hospital, huh?”
Maria nodded. “Yes. And no arguing.”
Once Wyatt was settled in the ambulance, one of the EMTs helped him take off the vest. Very carefully, he put the injured arm in a sling to take pressure off the shoulder. Wyatt sucked in a breath when the EMT put ice on his shoulder, but his concern was for Maria.
“Are you okay? Whitaker didn’t hurt you, did he?” Wyatt asked her.
“No. I’m fine, just scared to death. When you went down… you stupid, brave man.” Hiding her face against his uninjured shoulder, she burst into tears again.
Wyatt looked at the EMT. “Give us a minute?” The other man withdrew, and Wyatt let her cry for a few minutes, whispering comforting words into her hair until she’d calmed down.
When she had gotten it out of her system, she reached for a box of tissues. “The first time I see you shirtless, it’s because you were shot. Are we ever going to get this right?” she asked him with a watery chuckle as she blew her nose.
Not laughing, he cupped her face. His gaze was solemn. “I meant it, you know. I do love you.”
“I know. I meant it, too.” Reaching up, she kissed him. When he groaned, she pulled back, concerned. “You’re hurting.”
“Some. Actually, I’m pretty sure my shoulder’s either broken or dislocated, if not both.”
“Then we had better let these guys get you to the hospital.”
“Probably. Will you stay with Stacy while I’m gone?”
“No. I’m going with you.” She was surprised to see his eyes grow damp.
“Maria, are you sure?”
Grabbing another tissue, she blotted his eyes. “I’m sure. You’re the patient, not me. I’ll be fine as long as they don’t come at me with needles.” Moving aside as the EMT got back in the vehicle, she kept Wyatt’s left hand in hers. She wasn’t about to let go now.
Chapter Forty Nine
Things moved quickly at the hospital. Wyatt was whisked away to Radiology, while Stacy, who’d followed the ambulance, sat with Maria in the waiting room.
“I thought he was gone, Stacy. I felt that bullet hit him. How am I supposed to handle that kind of stress? Is this what Hannah and Beth go through every day?”
Stacy’s face reflected her sadness. “Why do you think the divorce rate is so high in law enforcement? It can be harder on the spouse in some ways than it is on the officer.”
Maria studied her friend. “That’s one of the reasons you and Andre didn’t work out, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “He tried to keep me in a safe little package. Andre will make some woman a doting, devoted husband someday. I just wasn’t able to be that woman. I guess it doesn’t help that I’m only five-two. And it was only a few dates, not like we had some undying love for each other. We barely even kissed.”
Maria put her arm around Stacy’s stiff shoulders and hugged her gently. “Well, I happen to think it’s a good thing Andre didn’t work out. You know my opinion as to why, and he just walked in the door.” She nodded at Gordon, who was walking toward them, his face drawn with concern as he sat down beside Stacy.
“Hey. I heard what happened. Is everybody okay?” he asked quietly.
“Somewhat. Wyatt’s being evaluated, and the extortionist is dead.” Stacy stood. “I need to excuse myself.” Without another word, she headed for the restrooms at the far end of the room.
“Was it something I said?” he asked as he scooted into the seat Stacy had vacated.
“No. She was in the condo when Whitaker was killed. I think it’s starting to weigh on her some.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Whitaker? He was the extortionist?” When Maria nodded, he whistled low. “What about you? Are you okay?”
With a tense smile, she responded, “I’m working on it.”
The door from inside the department opened, and a nurse walked over to them. “Ms. Pace? If you’d like to come back now, the sheriff is asking for you.”
Maria instantly stood, Gordon following suit. “How is he?” she asked.
“Mildly dislocated shoulder, but that’s all.”
A tremendous wave of relief hit her, and it was all she could do to stand for a few seconds. “Thank God!”
Gordon steadied her. “I’ll stay here, tell Stacy that he’s okay. Just holler if you need us.”
“He’s in a fair amount of pain from where the doctor put the shoulder back in place. He wouldn’t let us give him anything,” the nurse warned as they approached the large trauma room.
When they went in, Maria was shocked to see Wyatt hooked up to an EKG machine. She hurried to his side. “Wyatt?”
He managed a tense smile. “I’m fine. It’s just a precaution.”
The doctor agreed as the machine spat out the results. “This looks great, actually.” He placed an ice pack on Wyatt’s injured shoulder and let the nurse move in to take off the electronic leads. “I’d like to keep you here just a little longer, and then you can go.” With a nod to Maria, he left, the nurse following immediately afterward.
“I’m afraid I’m not going to be the best company right now. I can’t take anything for the pain until after the state police take my statement.”
She touched his uninjured shoulder. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. Just letting you know. I’m a horrible patient.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bending over, she kissed him thoroughly, her hand cupping his face. As she pulled back, he turned his face into her palm with a sigh. For the first time, Maria felt as though she was seeing the vulnerable man he kept carefully hidden. The glimpse only lasted a moment, though. He laid his head back on the pillow, eyes closed.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“ISP will handle the investigation into the shooting, as well as the extortion case. Jason will be placed on administrative leave, and you and I probably will be, too.”
“Will you have to a
ppoint someone as acting sheriff?”
“Possibly. And I’ll probably choose Ethan, if it comes to that.”
After a knock on the door, a tall uniformed man poked his head inside. “Sheriff, am I interrupting?”
Wyatt sat up. “No, come on in.” He introduced Maria. “Russell DeHart, with the State Police. He helped work the Chad Ormsby case.”
She smiled and shook his hand. “I remember.”
“Glad you’re okay, Sheriff. You feel like giving a statement?”
“Yes. I can’t have anything for the pain until I do.”
The trooper nodded. “Ms. Pace, I hate to ask, but do you mind waiting outside? Since you were involved, I’ll need to question you separately.”
“Not at all.” Squeezing Wyatt’s hand, she slipped out and went back to the waiting room, which was starting to fill up with law enforcement personnel. Quickly, she ducked into the women’s restroom so she could cry.
Chapter Fifty
Three weeks later…
The last couple of weeks had seemed interminable for Maria. As Wyatt had predicted, she and Jason had been placed on leave. Surprisingly, though, he had not been. However, he had been hosting a contingent of investigators from the state. Because of that, he’d been sequestered in meetings almost non-stop, running late into the evening most nights. She’d only seen him in brief glimpses since the day Whitaker had been shot. Wyatt had invited her to his house, but she’d declined.
“I don’t want even the shadow of a hint of impropriety on you during this investigation,” she explained.
“Maria, they know about us. That we’re dating was one of the first things I told Russell.”
“I know. But him having that knowledge and us flaunting are two different things. This investigation will be over soon enough, and then I’ll be more than happy to go home with you.”
He eventually ceded to her wishes. Unable to see each other, they spent hours talking on the phone every night, long conversations that jumped from topic to topic. They learned more about each other that way than they would have if they’d gone on twenty physical dates. The conversations had only strengthened her longing for Wyatt, and from the things he’d said to her, she knew he felt the same.
Finally, the investigation was finished. As Maria dressed, she was giddy with excitement. Today was Jason and Hannah’s wedding day, and after the ceremony, once Wyatt’s duties as a groomsman were complete, he was all hers.
Standing back from the mirror, she studied her reflection carefully. Remembering the evening just a few short weeks ago when she’d been preparing for her date with Damon, she laughed at the difference in the way she felt and looked.
Instead of the severe outfit she’d worn for Damon, she’d donned an understated, but form-fitting silk dress that shimmered with muted reds and purples. She’d piled her hair up on top of her head, leaving a few tendrils loose to curl softly around her face. Looking at the effect, she nodded her approval. She’d almost driven Stacy, who hated shopping, nuts searching for the dress, but the finished package was worth the time and effort.
As she went downstairs and passed the spot where Whitaker had died, her mood faltered a bit. All of her friends and family had questioned her decision to move back into the condo, but Maria stood firm.
“If I don’t take it back from him, he wins.”
To her surprise, Ethan and Gordon had taken it upon themselves to handle the cleanup. Since Whitaker had been shot in the chest, there hadn’t been a lot of tissue or blood spatter to deal with, though the carpet had been ruined. Within a day after the scene had been released, the mess was gone, and the condo was livable once again.
More information came out once Whitaker’s residence had been searched.
“We know from what he told you that when he was growing up, he was bullied pretty badly,” Wyatt told her one night during a long conversation. “He had a hit list of people whom he swore vengeance on all those years ago, and he kept to it. We found it at his house.”
Maria was appalled. “I have to feel a little sorry for him because of the bullying, but that’s no reason to do what he did. Why did he wait so long to get revenge?”
“From what we can tell, he was perfecting his craft. We found records that showed he’d been embezzling from some of the businesses whose books he managed, both here and in Florida. That’s where he’d been living the past several years.”
The notion was staggering. “All that grief and pain, the results of seeds sown so long ago.”
“Thank God society is starting to catch on and finally understand just how destructive bullying can be.”
Waiting in the hall for Stacy, Maria found her gaze returning to the bare spot where the carpet had been removed. That Doug Whitaker had never found the strength and truth within himself that would have set him free was something she found tremendously sad. The doorbell rang before her mood could turn too contemplative, and she hurried to answer it. The sight that met her eyes as she opened the door had her grinning with admiration.
“Dang, girl. Gordon won’t know what hit him.”
Stacy, looking very much like a young Audrey Hepburn, tapped her foot on the sidewalk. “I’m not dressed up for him,” she said as Maria locked the door. “Is it too much?”
“No, it’s perfect. You’re gorgeous.” Stacy wore a green wool dress that showed off her tiny waist. Maria had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out how closely the color came to matching Gordon’s eyes. “You should wear dresses more often. Or color, for that matter.” Most of the clothes the detective owned were muted and neutral, even her non-work garments.
“Uh-huh. I can just see me taking down a suspect in three-inch heels and this skirt. Come on. Let’s get to the church so we can get the good seats.”
Maria laughed. With any luck, she wouldn’t be coming back to her condo tonight. Excited and scared, she could hardly wait.
~ * * * ~
All day, as he’d helped with wedding preparations, Wyatt found himself smiling at the oddest moments.
“I didn’t realize you were that happy to see Jason get married,” Ethan said when they had a moment alone together in the church’s back room.
Shrugging into his tuxedo jacket, he just sent the detective an indulgent look.
“So you got the all clear from the state?” Ethan asked as he straightened his own jacket.
He gave a quick nod. “This morning. I told Jason as soon as I heard, and I’ll make an announcement to the rest of the department Monday. I’m glad he’s dealing well enough with the shooting that it hasn’t interrupted his wedding. I was worried about that.”
“Yeah, we all were. He had a few rough days, but he realizes he didn’t have a choice. I think having someone to talk to about it helps.” Ethan helped him fix his bowtie. “What about Marsha and Julie?”
“Rhonda’s not going to compel Dr. Jenkins to release her records. There’s no physical evidence, and at this point, it would basically be my word against Marsha’s. No good would come of pursuing it.”
The detective stood back, looked at the tie critically, and made a small adjustment. “That has to be a weight off your shoulders.”
“Son, that’s probably one of the biggest understatements I’ve heard all year.” Looking around to make sure no one was headed in their direction, he reached into his pocket. “You shared a secret with me a few weeks ago. Let me share one now?”
Ethan’s excitement was palpable. “Please do.”
Wyatt handed him a small box, and watched nervously as Ethan opened it. For a minute, the detective didn’t speak, but just stared at the ring inside.
“The ring is beautiful, but isn’t this a little sudden?”
“I don’t think so. I hope not, anyhow. We’ve known each other for years, and in the past few weeks, we’ve spent more time getting to know each other than most couples probably do in two years. Even though we haven’t been able to see each other since the shooting, we’ve spent two, three, sometimes
four hours on the phone every night. I guess we’ll see if it’s too soon when I get Maria’s response.”
Ethan smiled. “Point taken. And for what it’s worth, I’m excited for you. When are you going to ask her?”
Wyatt exhaled shakily. “At the reception. I’ve had Sonny section off a little part of the deck. Think she’ll say yes?”
“I think so. Mind if I tell Beth?”
The box safely tucked into his pocket once again, Wyatt smiled. “Go ahead, but just Beth. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself.” They started down the hall to the back of the church, where the rest of the men had gone to try to calm Jason down. “How is Beth?”
Ethan moved his shoulders in a restless shrug. “Over the moon and heartbroken at the same time. We’re still not on speaking terms with Mom and James. He did call us, explained about her medical condition, and we talked to Richard about it. From what he says, with levels as bad as Mom’s apparently were, she’s lucky she didn’t die. It looks like the whole attitude shift can be laid at the feet of the thyroid condition, but I find that a little hard to believe.”
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I know it’s hard going right now. Hopefully Richard’s right, though. I imagine rebuilding the trust is going to be a long process.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of. But if the Hudsons can forgive me for the role I played in Beth’s shooting, surely I can forgive my mother for the things she said. It’s not any different, right? Alcohol abuse or hormonal imbalance, neither of us was in our right mind, so to speak.”
Wyatt gave him a quick, one-armed hug. “It will all work out in time. For now, just try to enjoy your secret, and let your parents take care of themselves. Make sure they know you’re willing to try to rebuild the relationship, and go from there. It’s all you can do, and if you try to push it, you’ll drive yourself crazy. Trust me, I know these things.”
Ethan shot him a half-smile. “Yeah, I guess you do.”