Bella kept quiet, hoping Sabrina would continue. She did, her eyes ablaze, the words coming fast with little pause between sentences.
“And then that night I woke up and felt like something was wrong—twins do that, you know—so I went to check on her. I found her curled up in the corner of her room, crying. ‘Hough came looking for that goddamn book and then he raped me for punishment when he couldn’t find it,’ is what she said. ‘He thinks it’s me doing the blackmailing. Do you realize what you’ve done?’ I asked her how she knew and she said the minute Hough accused her of blackmailing her that she realized it had to be me who’d taken Jocelyn’s book. She added that I always underestimate her, which isn’t true. She always lets me down. I told her that too. I said, ‘If you weren’t always so out of it with booze and pills we wouldn’t be in this mess.’ I tried to explain to her that I only did it for her own good since she blew all our money. I told her it was just like it always was—me cleaning up her mess. Well, that made her go crazy. Like certifiable, screaming that I’d gotten her raped and that she never wanted to see me again and that I was the devil. After all I’d done, this is what she says to me? She had the nerve to tell me it was her money, she’d earned it and it was hers to lose and I was nothing but a leech. Then she lunged at me. Can you believe that? She came after me. What was I to do but defend myself? We started fighting like when we were kids, rolling around on the ground like a couple of animals. I didn’t mean to kill her but my God she wouldn’t stop screaming.” She paused, tilting her head to the side and her voice was higher-pitched than the moment before, like a plaintive child’s. “I’m the victim here. Can’t you see that? My mother never could. No matter what I did. It was always Tiffany this and Tiffany that. I was the one who deserved the life she had. Not her. It was not supposed to be her.”
Outside came the sound of sirens. Peter had gotten her text and Austin’s voicemail. He’d figured it out as well. They were on the way.
Sabrina went to the window. She muttered an expletive and turned back to Bella. “Get up.”
There was pounding on the door. “Open up, Sabrina.” It was Peter’s voice.
Sabrina yanked Bella to her feet. She put the barrel of the gun into the small of Bella’s back. “March.”
At the door, they stopped. “I have Bella at gunpoint. Let me out of here or she gets it.”
Peter’s voice was soothing. “No reason to get carried away. We just want to talk to you, that’s all.”
“Bullshit, I know what you want. Move out of the doorway.” She pulled Bella close to her body, holding the gun at her neck now. “Open the door, Bella. Nice and slow.”
Bella inched open the door. “Peter, don’t shoot. She has a gun on me.” She was surprised how calm she sounded. Just keep thinking clearly and calmly, she thought. As long as no one made any sudden moves she might get out of this alive.
Peter and Fred stood in the hallway with their guns pointed at the door. Fred’s chest was moving up and down and his forehead glistened with sweat. Peter’s clear green eyes were sharp and unblinking. “Let her go, Sabrina,” he said.
“Get on the elevator,” Sabrina hissed into her ear. “We’re going to the roof.”
The roof? She’d told Sabrina she was afraid of heights. And she remembered.
Bella couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air. Her legs felt as if they might collapse under her. But it didn’t matter. Sabrina, probably with adrenaline coursing through her, seemed almost to carry her.
Her daddy had carried her like a sack of potatoes to the roof. Her mother’s cries were in the background. “Drake, call the police.” Her voice was high-pitched. It didn’t sound like her mother. Her voice was like a cold blue wave through the air.
They were at the elevator now. “Don’t come any closer,” Sabrina said to the men, pushing the gun harder into Bella’s neck.
Bella heard a cry of pain. It was her own, she realized. She tried to breathe but it felt as if her windpipe was being crushed. Sabrina shoved her into the elevator and punched the rooftop button. They went up, first to the seventh floor, then the eighth and finally to the button labeled Rooftop Terrace. The doors opened and Sabrina dragged her outside. It was raining; a puddle had formed where the floor dipped slightly and Bella stepped in it. Dampness soaked through her shoes and into her socks. Then they were on the edge of the building. There was a lip and a safety fence. Below, the news people were pointing upward, perhaps calling out to one another.
Everything tilted and swirled. Bella sobbed. She had begged silently when he held her over the edge of the building. No, no, no, Daddy. I’ll be good. Please don’t drop me.
Sabrina’s voice near her ear was low and menacing. “You wrecked everything for me.” She pushed her against the cold metal of the fence. “All I wanted was to drive that night. I never got one thing I wanted because of you. I should be the star instead of a freak. And now you’re going to give the crowd what they want. You’re going to jump, Tiffany.”
It was raining that day too. She screamed as he dangled her over the crowd, “Mommy, mommy, mommy. Come save me,” and the rain had been in her mouth and the smell of her daddy’s musty and smoke-infested clothes in her nose. Would she go to heaven to be with Jesus like her grandmother had? Would Grammie be there to greet her?
“Tiffany, climb up the fence, slide your legs over and I’ll just give you a little push. It’ll be over so quickly.”
Bella heard shouting. Was it Drake? Had he come to rescue her? She slid her eyes to the noise. It was Peter and Fred. Below there was the sound of more sirens.
Sirens. The good guys were coming. They would rescue her so she wouldn’t have to go to heaven. She could stay with Mommy and Drake.
Peter’s voice reached her, loud but still coaxing. “Sabrina, let her go. We can talk things through. Work a deal.”
The gun was at her temple now. “Climb up the fence, Tiffany. That’s a good girl.” She said it like she was encouraging a child down a slide. Bella grasped the top rung of the fence with both hands and put one foot onto the bottom rung. Could she push backward and knock her captor to the ground?
Drake had grabbed them both from behind and pulled them both to safety. Drake, her big brother. He always knew what to do. He always came for her.
Kick the gun out of her hand.
Whose voice was this? It was a woman. Hushed but firm. Mommy.
Do it suddenly. Act like you’re going over but suddenly change direction and swing your leg out and knock the gun from her hand.
“Jump, Tiffany. You can do it.” Sabrina’s breath smelled of alcohol and was sickly sweet from the orange juice.
Honey, you’re so strong now. Not like when you were little. You don’t have to be afraid any longer.
“Sabrina, put down the gun. We can talk this over.” Peter again. He sounded closer now.
Then, she thought, Ben. His laughing eyes. The way he always talked about her like she could do anything she wanted. How he turned every negative comment around on her to point out how wonderful she was. And this was love, she thought, how the other person made you feel about yourself.
And Gennie. The sweetness of their friendship was an ache in her chest.
And Annie and Alder. And the baby coming. The family she and Drake both so desperately needed and wanted after Chloe and Esther left them.
And Drake. Her brother who had and would do anything for her.
Draw on that, Bella. You have so much to live for.
And her dreams. They were all within her grasp. If only she had the chance to pursue them. If she escaped this, she would stare fear down.
She had both feet on the bottom rung now. Gripping the top railing with both hands, and using the strength of her core, all those planks and sit-ups over the years, like steel bands around her middle. She took in a deep breath and muttered, “Not today, bitch.” She swung her left leg high and aimed toward the gun in Sabrina’s hands. It went off as it flew through the air, landing several feet fr
om them. The force of the kick caused Bella to fall forward, landing on all fours. By that time Peter and Fred were upon them. Peter tackled Sabrina to the ground while Fred held the gun on her. Behind them, another group of armed police officers were coming up the stairs. Peter handed a subdued Sabrina over to them and came to help Bella to her feet.
“Peter, I got her to confess and it’s all on tape.” She pulled out her cell phone, shouting, the adrenaline continuing to rush through her body. “Do you see this? On record the whole time.”
He took the phone, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Holy crap, Bella, you ought to think about going into police work.”
“I’ve had just about enough of this line of work, thank you very much. Plus, I have a business to start.” If she could face down a psychopath on the roof of a building, surely she could start the business she’d dreamed of all her life.
“And a wedding to plan.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. The wedding. Is it too late to jump?”
Peter laughed. “There’s something wrong with you. You know that, right?”
She grinned. “Totally.” Letting out a yelp, she lunged towards him and hugged him quickly before stepping back and sweeping her arms in a wide circle to indicate the world around them. “Holy shit, it’s great to be alive.”
“It most certainly is.”
Ben was waiting for her in the lodge’s lobby when she and Peter came out of the elevator. He held open his arms and she ran toward him, not caring that she probably looked like the last scene of a bad television movie. He pulled her up into his arms and held her tightly against his chest. “I didn’t know if you were going to make it,” he whispered in her ear.
“Come on, now. I’m small but scrappy. You know that.” She looked into his eyes. “Is it time for wine yet?”
“I’d say you earned the good stuff tonight.”
In the car, they drove in silence, Bella holding Ben’s hand, running her fingers through the soft hair on his forearm. Rain made a steady pitter patter on the roof and the windshield wipers swayed in a steady rhythm. The car’s heater was warm on her feet.
“Bella, are you sure you don’t want a wedding?”
She turned to look at him. “Why are you asking me?”
“Well, I just don’t want it to be my agenda. I was the one left at the proverbial altar, not you. You sure you don’t want a wedding?”
“I can think of nothing worse. All those people looking at us. And us dressed up in monkey suits.”
“I think it’s just the guy who wears a monkey suit.”
“Well, a dress then. Do you know how long it takes to find a dress? It’s like a month-long process and you have to go to all these pretentious shops and try on a zillion of them before you find one decent one and then there are fittings and tuckings and other super boring stuff.”
“Tuckings?”
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, grinning. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”
“But every girl wants to wear a wedding dress. Don’t they?” He took his eyes from the road for an instant and she saw he was earnest in his question. Her heart fluttered and expanded. She turned to look out the window. They were driving across the valley now. It was dark with a few yellow lights of houses in the distant fields. “Ben, the truth is I don’t want a wedding because my mother isn’t here. It hurts too much. Especially the finding the dress part.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckle of her index finger softly. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“The sad thing is I know Gennie wants to take me shopping for the dress and plan a shower and every detail of the wedding, like my mother would have. And I just want to marry you. Just us. Without anything I can attach pain to. Do you understand?”
“Five hundred percent.” He squeezed her hand. “But you need to tell Gennie tonight, not later. She’s going to be crushed but it will be much worse if we elope without her knowing. Annie says she’s headed to the house now.”
“You’re right. Of course. I’ll do it tonight.” She turned to look at his profile. How had this man who understood something as subtle as this particular dynamic between women appeared so suddenly in her life? It should not be questioned, she thought, just welcomed with gratitude. “I love you, Benjamin Fleck. This is all I can think to say.”
He grinned at her, before bringing her hand to his mouth once again and keeping it against his lips as he answered. “I love you, too. And this is all we need to say.”
That night, after Bella was fussed over by Annie, called “badass” by Alder, and given a large glass of one of his finest bottles of Washington wine by Drake, she took Gennie’s hand and led her into the sitting room. They sat on the hearth of the stone fireplace, holding glasses of red wine in one hand and clasping one another’s hands in the other. Indicating the glass, Bella raised her eyebrows. “So I have to almost get killed for you to risk staining your teeth?”
Gennie smiled but unshed tears made her eyes glassy. “Oh, Bella, I’m so grateful you’re all right. If anything happened to you, well, I don’t know if I could get through it. You’re family to me.”
“I know. Me too.” She leaned her head on Gennie’s shoulder. “Listen, about the wedding.”
“Yeah?” Gennie’s voice sounded wary, as if she knew what was coming.
“Ben and I want to go to Vegas. Just the two of us.”
Gennie sat up straighter, dropping Bella’s hand and scooting away several inches to look at her face. “But why? I don’t understand why.”
Bella took a deep breath. “Because my mother’s dead.”
Gennie’s eyes filled; several tears escaped from the corners of her eyes and ran untethered down her perfect cheeks. “Oh, Bella. Yes, I understand.”
“You do?”
“I do.” And that was it.
They hugged, in soundless agreement that sometimes nothing more needed to be said between two people who loved one another, who understood one another. Because despite their flaws and demons and expectations that wanted to pull their love asunder, they understood this was not the way of true friendship. No, it grew between the silences, through all the words unsaid, all the ways love could not be expressed except in silent acceptance of the other.
Chapter 19
The day before Thanksgiving Bella and Ben sat at the counter of Amanda’s newly opened diner. Fred, sitting two seats from them, nibbled on a BLT on wheat and sipped coffee as he told them of his recent transfer over to the Echo Grove police force. “Darnedest thing. From what I can piece together, Peter Ball made some phone calls and next thing I know I’m being called in for an interview.”
The diner was cozy, only a dozen tables plus the counter and decorated in shades of blue. The menu was simple: traditional breakfasts served all day and soups and sandwiches starting at eleven. The clientele had been steadily growing, helped enormously by the movie crew, still filming for another two weeks after a short break for the Thanksgiving holiday.
Amanda set a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of Bella and a Denver omelet in front of Ben. “I liked it better when Fred worked out here,” she said. “Nothing ever happens in River Valley. Well, I guess that’s not true but, you know, for the most part we don’t have anything too dangerous, and now I’ll be worried about you all the time.”
Fred pushed aside his plate, having eaten everything but the crusts. “Honey, it’s nothing to worry about. I’m still a small town cop. Not much happens in Echo Grove either.”
Bella pointed her fork at Fred. “I, for one, am thrilled to know they’ll get an honest cop in Echo Grove considering what Ben went through.”
“Amen to that,” said Ben.
“You guys really eloped?” asked Amanda.
“Yep,” said Bella, sliding her eyes over to her new husband. Would she ever stop feeling so utterly smitten with this man?
Fred wriggled his finger at them as if they were in trouble. “And you two don’t look
one bit guilty for denying your friends and family the pleasure of a wedding.”
“That’s because we aren’t,” said Ben before taking a large bite of omelet. “This is really good, Amanda.”
Amanda lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone but I hired my cousin to cook for us. He used to cook in prison.”
“Really?” asked Bella, intrigued. “What was he in for?”
“Insider trading.” Amanda said this like it was a dreaded disease. “He took the fall for his boss.”
“That’s terrible,” said Ben, shuddering. “How long was his sentence?”
“Five years. But he learned how to cook really well in there and now he’s here for a second chance,” said Amanda, still talking just above a whisper.
“River Valley’s the place for that,” said Bella.
“Something about the healing powers of the river, according to Annie,” said Ben.
“The river will teach you your name, Amanda. Tell your cousin the minute it warms up in the late spring to jump in head first,” said Bella.
Amanda put her hands on the counter. What was this? A ring? “Wait a minute, did you guys get engaged?” asked Bella.
Fred grinned; Amanda blushed. “Fred asked me last night under the stars. We haven’t told anyone yet.”
“I guess this marriage thing is contagious,” said Ben, slapping Fred on the back. “Congratulations.”
“Maybe the river makes people fall in love too.” Bella laughed and stole a bite of Ben’s omelet.
The River Valley Series Page 79