Here Comes the Night
Page 23
“The pictures of her look pretty,” Erika said.
Indigo took out an manila envelope. Erika recognized the return address of the Southwest Group Agency from Dallas. Indigo took out the two pictures Erika had copied and sent to Gordon Wesner in her introductory letter. They both looked at them.
“She’s quite beautiful, I think,” Indigo offered. “And apparently didn’t care about money, because she fell for your father as well.”
“But her family disapproved.” Erika had already guessed at a lot of this. An adoption where the father is not on the birth certificate usually means an unmarried girl in trouble with nowhere else to turn.
“Yes,” Indigo continued, “they sent her out of state to some relative to have the baby. Mr. Wesner couldn’t find out all those details.”
“You mean, he didn’t know where she was?”
“Erika, he didn’t even know she was pregnant. All this he discovered the past few months through his private investigator.”
Erika began to see what had happened. “He thought she just took off?”
“He figured her family had put their foot down. That happened more back then. He assumed they’d yanked her out of Southwestern and sent to her some girls’ school somewhere. And he certainly didn’t have the money or means to find her. He was penniless and heartbroken, he said.”
Erika picked up the pictures again, and it struck her for the first time how similar her mother’s facial structure was to Angie Wesner’s. Take away the wife’s bleached blonde and it was even more striking.
“He wondered how on earth you found out about him,” Indigo said. “He had looked for your mom after college, but the official family record did not give her cause of death. No indication it happened in childbirth.”
“Southwest managed to dig up my original birth certificate in some ancient warehouse. It listed her as my mother, but I knew that much from the orphanage records. The big thing on the original was that she’d written in Gordon Wesner as the father. Up to then, everything had been a dead end. I don’t know what kind of pull her family had, but they had managed to erase his name from what was filed at the orphanage and the courthouse. I didn’t even know people could do things like that,” Erika said.
Indigo smiled. “Believe it. Though I would be curious to know how they felt when they found out Gordon became one of the most powerful men in the state.”
“But if he didn’t even know she was pregnant, how was he sure I really was his daughter?”
“I hope you won’t mind finding this out. He hired an investigator to check you out, who managed to get your DNA somehow. A cup you threw away, a hair. I’m not sure about that.”
“Wow, I had no idea.”
“Another reason it took so long, waiting months for those DNA results. But that’s why he was certain you were the real thing.”
“I was so close to meeting him,” Erika said. “After all this time.”
“I know. I’m terribly sorry about that. But Mr. Wesner had taken steps that …well, your life is going to be completely different from now on. He was going to tell you all this when you met.”
“I’m about to be arrested. That’s one thing pretty sure,” Erika said.
“Oh, your predicament with this young man…” Indigo shuffled through some papers.
“Tony.” She heard her voice catch. The newness of his death still felt raw.
“I spoke briefly with Detective Edgars and Douglas about your situation.”
“I’m in big trouble over that. I know it. After last night, Mr. Wesner might not claim me if he was alive.”
Indigo put up her hands in a gentle take it easy gesture. “The good news is you did the right thing by coming in. Could you have done it a few hours earlier? Yes. But could you have stopped Tony Bonner from crippling that girl? No, I don’t think so. And the detectives realize that.”
“I went along when he took the car, though,” Erika started.
“Yes, but you know, they identified him quicker because of you. You gave them his whereabouts, everything you knew. If you’d come in after they’d already identified him, it could have appeared self-serving. As it stands, you cooperated fully.”
“But won’t I still have to go to prison?” Erika found her hands shaking.
Indigo put her own hands over Erika’s and shook her head at the girl’s innocence.
“I doubt very much it will come to that. What you don’t yet realize is that you now have some of the best legal representation in the state.”
“You’re going to help me?”
“My entire firm now represents you,” Indigo reassured her. “But let’s back up a little. About the legal steps Gordon Wesner took only a few days before his death…”
“Legal steps?” But a lightness, a sense of hope, had already filtered through the despair Erika had felt only a few hours earlier. She liked this beautiful caramel-skinned woman sitting before her, with her long, graceful hands and generous brown eyes, which now danced as she laid out some legal forms for Erika to see.
“Be prepared for a shock, Miss Newton. As of three days ago, Gordon Wesner made you the sole heir to his entire estate.”
Erika sat, stunned to silence. She stared at the stacks of documents organized by blue paper sheaths, as though that would clear it up. Finally, she managed, “I’m sorry. What?” She tried to listen to the crisp numbers and facts Indigo was detailing for her, but she couldn’t absorb it. Wealth had never been one of her dreams. She always had simpler hopes, more humble desires.
She stared at the glass-tiled window to the little room and noticed it lighten as a sharp ray of sunlight shot through the thick clear layers. It landed in her hand.
Erika looked down at the pool of brightness inside her fingers, and held it there as though it were a gift.
Chapter 103
Neither his arrest nor his lawyer’s promise of immediate action to bail him out had much effect on Buck. All he had been able to hear when they came back into his interview room was that Angie had confessed to her part in Gordon’s murder, even said she had put Buck up to it. He had never wanted or expected such an admission from her.
Buck had wanted her to be free of it all. It was the only thing he could do for her now. He had put it all on the line and lost. There was no need for her to say anything, and he didn’t understand why she had done it. Even he was holding out, waiting for a conviction that was bound to come, but making them prove it.
But Angie had given it all up, and without a lawyer. That wasn’t like her, not to dig in her heels and try everything before caving in. The detectives said flat out that she did it to help avert a capital murder charge for him.
“She’s got it bad for you, Buck,” Edgars said as he cuffed him.
“Didn’t even try to wiggle out from under it,” Horse said, some amazement in his voice. “We don’t get many like that.”
A few minutes later Buck was left alone in a cell that he realized looked like where he’d be for a lot of years. He sat on the edge of his bunk, staring blankly at the graffiti on the walls and the stainless steel toilet.
There was no surge of energy or enlightenment. The thought drifted in and out of his head that Angie had loved him after all. He felt so grateful to know that.
He lay down on the bunk, an outstretched shadow of himself. He thought of her pale breasts, her clean smell, her narrow feet, her laugh. Buck had lost himself in her, because he wanted to.
Outside the sun crept through lifeless clouds, washing over the sidewalks of Stockyards City. The afternoon train, smelling like hay and manure, blew its whistle as it chugged its way into the station. Cowboys moved about their business up and down the streets.
High above them, inside his cell, Buck Dearmore’s eyes finally closed, with the strange, unexpected relief that only the guilty can know.
With nowhere left to run, he lay down his weary bones and rode the ache in his heart into a deep, throbbing sleep.
THE END
; INVITATION TO READERS
Word-of-mouth is so important for any writer to succeed. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a positive review at Amazon.com or Goodreads, and help pass the word on any social media you use. Even if it’s only a line or two, you really can make a lot of difference. I appreciate your feedback.
Check me out on Facebook: Facebook.com/LindaMcDonald.Writer
Or send me an e-mail: LindaLeeMcDonald2013@gmail.com
If you would like to be included on a New Releases mailing list, just send an e-mail to the above address. I promise I won’t use it for any other purpose.
Also, please visit my website at www.LindaLeeMcDonald.com
Remember, giving an e-book as a gift is only a couple of clicks and it’s delivered instantaneously.
Here Comes the Night
Copyright © 2013 by Linda McDonald
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Pure Gumption Press
ISBN 978-0-9858371-4-3
Cover design © Tammy Rogers, Moxie Design
Linda McDonald
www.LindaLeeMcDonald.com
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
THE END
INVITATION TO READERS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Praise for Linda’s Debut Novel
An Excerpt from In the Lion’s Mouth
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am so grateful for my rocking writing group, who workshopped this book and provided direction, insight, and encouragement: Ron Collier, Ranell Collins, Rick Lippert, Jennifer Lindsey-McClintock, and Gaylene Murphy. Special thanks to Ron for legal advice, and to my talented friend, Gaylene, who wrote the book blurb description and brainstormed story ideas when this was still in the formative stages. Her suggestions and advice always make me look so much better.
Thanks to Stephanie Bond for her encouragement, advice, and technical support and to Jeanne Devlin and The Roadrunner Press, who first gave me professional confidence.
With appreciation to Oklahoma’s Center for the Book for recognizing my debut novel, Crimes of Redemption, as the 2013 Book of the Year in Fiction, and my readers and friends who have been so kind and supportive.
And deepest thanks to Karl Jackson, my dear friend, without whom this would not be possible.
For Karl
Praise for Linda’s Debut Novel
Reviews for Linda McDonald’s debut novel, Crimes of Redemption, winner of the 2013 Book of the Year in Fiction.
“This is one of the few books one cannot put down.”
—Elliot Mazer, producer, executive
“McDonald’s writing is vivid, flowing and logical…her style allows the reader to comfortably understand the action without sacrificing one moment of suspense or the dilemma the characters face.”
—Elizabeth Hurd, The Oklahoman
“The pace never slackens as the author takes the time to explore the backstories of the supporting players…It is an intriguing tale of relationships and the healing, redemptive power of love. I do look forward to reading Linda McDonald’s next work.”
—Linda Hitchcock, Book Trib
“I love the characters…they are all flawed in one way or another. The story flows seamlessly and at times makes you wonder about justice…or lack of it. An enjoyable read all around.”
—Linda Strong, Net Galley
“The early chapters of this novel read like a Cormac McCarthy novel. The violence and the depth that develops in the characters is almost No Country for Old Men.”
—John Plavelle, Net Galley
IN THE LION’S MOUTH by Linda McDonald
Available Now from Pure Gumption Press
A young couple, a friendly beachcomber, lots of bullets and plenty of death. It all starts innocently enough with Carrie and her new boyfriend driving her father’s RV to south Texas. When they get stuck in the sand on Boca Chica beach, Leo, a seemingly easy-going local, comes to their rescue and pulls them out. But after midnight, a wounded and far more intense Leo returns, now hunted by killers. Gun in hand, he forces the couple to help him escape. Once they’re back on the road, the danger–and number of enemies–grows. Leo and Carrie, tightly held In the Lion’s Mouth, face a harrowing gauntlet of secrets stretching from Texas to the streets of Matamoros. A fast-paced thriller with colorful characters from both sides of the border.
An Excerpt from In the Lion’s Mouth
CHAPTER 1
Carrie Jo Murray knew the second the R.V. hit soft sand that it was bad. One minute they were rolling down a firm road on Boca Chica Beach and the next she had steered it off course into a sand mound. It landed with an abrupt thump, the front end pitched down.
“No, no, no.” She slammed her hands on the steering wheel and hung her head. Then she looked over at Jason, her boyfriend of six weeks, sitting on the passenger side. “Please don’t say I told you so.”
He gave her a sympathetic but knowing smile, then teased her by imitating her own words. “‘Oh, I got this, it’s my dad’s R.V. I’m driving.’”
Jason had told her when they exited Texas 191 to let him drive when they got to the sandy beach part, sin
ce he knew the area. But she had gotten so excited when they saw the Gulf water, she couldn’t give up the wheel. Now she was going to have to eat some crow.
Carrie got out of the driver’s side and was enveloped by the sweltering south Texas heat. Perspiration broke out from the top of her head to the elastic waistband of her gym shorts.
Around them, a few sunbathers and families out for a day on the beach gave them curious glances, but seemed indifferent to their plight. She walked around to the front of the R.V. to survey the damage.