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Beneath the Truth

Page 13

by Meghan March


  Please make sure he gets home to me, I pleaded silently again to the woman in the picture I’d never had a chance to know.

  I backed away from the entertainment center and my phone blared to life, scaring the ever-loving crap out of me. I looked down at the screen at my brother’s name and froze before answering.

  “Did you find him?” I answered it the same way I had before.

  “Not yet. Still looking. Nothing on your end?”

  My shoulders hunched, and I found myself crumpling into the couch again. “No. Nothing. Jesus, Heath. Where could he have gone? We have to find him.” My voice broke on the last part, and Heath’s breathing roughened.

  “I know. We will. We have the whole friggin’ department, including the retirees, on the streets. Everyone is looking. We’ll bring him home. We will.”

  I noticed he didn’t say safe, and I cringed.

  I didn’t know if it was to make myself feel better or to remind Heath, but I whispered, “Mama’s watching him, and she’s going to make sure he comes home to us no matter what.”

  “I know, Flounder. I know. I gotta go. Call me if he shows.”

  “I will. Call me the second you or anyone else find him.”

  “Of course. Love you, little sis.”

  “Love you too.”

  Heath ended the call, and it felt like my stomach had developed a new gaping hole. Helplessness wasn’t something I could handle. I needed to be doing something, or I was going to lose my mind.

  My fingers itched for a computer, but my laptops were all at my place.

  Heath has to have something here. I would have felt bad poking around, but I told myself it was to save my father and my sanity, so I forgave myself for the invasion of privacy, and I knew Heath would too.

  It didn’t take me long to find his department-issued laptop tucked in its black case near the door.

  A less desperate daughter would probably not consider breaking into a laptop that was technically the property of the police department, but I didn’t care. If he got in trouble for anything I did, I would take the blame and they could try to send me to jail. My lawyers would undoubtedly come up with a creative defense. I paid a big enough retainer to ensure it.

  I pulled the machine out of the bag and set it up on the kitchen table. Already, just having the smooth keys beneath my fingertips made me feel more in control. As I turned on the power, I mentally sorted through the options of what would be most helpful, and decided on traffic cameras.

  Was it a massive long shot? Absolutely. Without facial-recognition software, especially my proprietary version, the odds were like finding a needle in a haystack, but at least I was doing something.

  I thought about the pet project I’d been working on for the last several months because I knew that people like Heath faced ridiculous danger daily just because they carried a badge. I was still working out how to give them the best defensive weapon I could. Information.

  If the police had cameras on their cars or clothing that could automatically run every face they saw through a database and identify all threats, they would be better prepared for whatever was coming their way. I was still working out the bugs, as well as the legal and ethical issues.

  If I were able to perfect it, it wouldn’t be a product I would sell. I would donate the technology to police departments nationwide.

  Getting into Heath’s computer didn’t even take real hacking. His username and password were a variation on the same thing he’d always used—Chester16. It was our childhood dog’s name and his football number.

  Come on, Heath. Time to step it up in the password arena.

  But then again, it saved me valuable time.

  Once I was logged in, it didn’t take me long to tap into the city’s traffic-camera system, being careful enough not to get caught but not so careful as to slow myself down. The number of options was overwhelming, but I went through the feeds methodically, choosing the ones closest to our house and working outward in a grid pattern, similar to what the cops were doing right now.

  Where are you, Daddy?

  Settling in, I finally felt less like I was going to throw up because I was doing something to help instead of wringing my hands and staring at the door.

  We will find you.

  28

  Rhett

  Two hours after I left Ari at Heath’s house, I was beginning to lose hope when no one had spotted him yet. I’d called in every favor I was owed, and checked in with all my old informants. It was full dark, and wandering the streets wasn’t safe for anyone right now.

  And with the darkness, the chances of randomly spotting him went down dramatically.

  My phone rang with a call from an old CI who worked security at the cemetery on Frenchman Street.

  “Otis? You got something for me?”

  “What was this dude wearing? Gray shirt and navy sweatpants? ’Cause I just ran off some guys with my truck who were kicking the shit out of an old man in the cemetery.”

  “Fuck. Yeah, that could be him. He okay?” I yanked my steering wheel in the other direction, heading for Otis.

  “No, man. He looks like he got the shit kicked out of him. You want me to call 911? I’m on the northeast corner. Remember the place those punks tagged my tombs? Close to that.”

  “Yes. Fuck. Call 911. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  For a moment, I debated whether to call Ari, but I wanted to be sure first. If it wasn’t her dad, I didn’t want her hopes up. I’d know if it was the right decision soon enough.

  I turned two more corners, and finally my headlights cut across the gray tombs of the cemetery. A flashlight beam waved in the air.

  Otis.

  I bolted out of the Jeep and ran toward him, not bothering to turn off the car or shut the door behind me. When I skidded to a stop next to the dark human-shaped lump on the ground, Otis was still on the phone with 911, giving them the situation.

  I snatched the flashlight out of Otis’s hand and flashed it over the man’s face. It was smeared with blood, but there was no doubt it was Ari’s dad.

  Thank fuck.

  I dropped to my knees at his side. “Mr. Sampson. This is Rhett Hennessy. I’m here to get you help. Okay, sir?”

  He tried to roll to his side, but groaned instead.

  “Mr. Sampson. Stay with me. We’re getting help. Can you hear me?”

  His glasses were smashed and both eyes were swelling shut. Otis hadn’t exaggerated in the slightest. If anything, he’d understated the situation.

  Jesus Christ.

  I checked for immediate life-threatening injuries, my first-responder training coming back quickly. One of his legs was bent funny. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Heath?” His voice shook, but the fact that he was talking was a good sign in my book.

  “No, sir. Rhett. We had lunch together yesterday.”

  “You broke my window with a baseball.”

  “Yes, sir. That was me. I’m really sorry about that. Can you tell where else you’re hurt?”

  “My ribs hurt. They kicked me. Fucking assholes.” He pushed on the ground like he was trying to get up, but his leg buckled.

  “Hold still a second, sir. We need to get you looked at before you try to move.”

  “Something ain’t right. Think I’m gonna be sick.”

  I reached out and laid a hand over his, not wanting to squeeze in case his fingers were jacked up. “Ambulance is on the way. We’ll get you to a hospital so they can check you out.”

  I expected him to protest, but he just grunted. Shit, they must have worked him over real good for him not to argue about that. The man I knew was stubborn to a fault, just like his son and daughter.

  Otis held the phone away from his ear. “They’re coming. They want me to stay on the line.”

  “Good. Do that.”

  “They made me go with them,” Mr. Sampson mumbled. My instincts told me to ask him what he meant, but his fingers curled around mine as he groaned in pain. “Wann
a talk to Ariel.”

  “Yes, sir. I can make that happen.”

  I yanked my phone from my pocket and called Ari. “I got him. Ambulance is on the way. He wants to talk to you.”

  She broke down in sobs that shredded my heart. “Oh my God. What happened? Is he okay? No, of course he’s not okay if you called an ambulance. Can I talk to him?”

  “Hold on.” I extended the phone toward Mr. Sampson, flipping it to speaker. “Mr. Sampson, I have your daughter on the phone.”

  “Ari? Heath’s getting pizza for dinner. You want some?”

  She choked on her tears. “Yeah, Daddy. I’d love that.”

  “Good girl. Missed you.”

  “I love you, Dad. Missed you too.”

  I took the phone off speaker as Ari’s voice cracked on the last words. “Hold it together. Where’s Carver? Get him to drive you to the ER.”

  “How bad is it? Tell me the truth.”

  I glanced at the broken old man on the ground beside me. “It’s pretty bad, but he’s gonna be fine.” I prayed I was telling her the truth.

  She hauled in a breath. “I’m getting Carver. We’ll meet you there. Which hospital?”

  I calculated the nearest one from where I was and gave her the name.

  “I’m on my way. And, Rhett? Thank you.”

  I hung up the phone as sirens and flashing lights pierced the night. “Mr. Sampson, help is here. We’re gonna get you all fixed up.”

  29

  Ariel

  I rushed into the emergency room while Carver found a place to park. Police cruisers were pulled up near the ambulance bay, so I hoped Heath was already there. I’d called him as soon as I’d hung up with Rhett.

  A uniformed officer that had been at the house was in the waiting room.

  “Is my dad here?” I asked him. “Where is he? Can I see him?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your brother asked me to wait for you. I’ll take you back.”

  “What happened?”

  “I didn’t get all the details. I’m sure your brother will fill you in.”

  I didn’t bother asking any more questions as we hustled back through the doors that led to the exam rooms. Rhett stood outside the third one and I ran to him, throwing myself into his arms. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Tears spilled down my face, and he hugged me hard.

  “He’s gonna be okay, Red. I promise.”

  I snuffled. “I hope so.”

  “No hoping. He will be. They’re running tests.”

  I forced myself to let Rhett go and reached for the door handle, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

  “He’s a little banged up, so make sure you’re ready. Don’t freak out. He’s gonna be just fine.”

  “Are you coming in?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll be right here. It’s getting a little crowded in there.”

  The dread that had been thrumming through my veins curdled in my stomach as I took a fortifying breath and pushed open the door. When I stepped inside, I was glad Rhett had warned me. My dad’s face was swollen and bruised. Tears burned behind my eyes, and it took everything I had not to let them fall.

  “Daddy?”

  My brother was at his side, talking to him as the doctor attended to his hands. Both Heath and my dad looked up when I spoke.

  “Ari? When did you get here?”

  I didn’t know if Dad was asking whether I’d just gotten here from California or when I’d gotten to the hospital. “Just now. How are you doing?” I kept my answer generic, not wanting to confuse him further.

  “I got a little banged up. I’ll be fine.” His voice sounded strong and sure, which was a good sign.

  I swallowed back the tears and chose my words carefully. “You’ve looked better, but you’re still the most handsome man I know.”

  He tried to smile, but the tug on his split lip stopped him.

  I cringed at the flash of pain and crossed the room to get closer. I desperately wanted to ask who the hell had done this, but a warning look on Heath’s face stopped me. Instinctively, I knew that keeping the atmosphere light in the room was paramount.

  “You’ve been working too much,” Dad said. “Gotta take time off now and again to spend with your old man.”

  His words almost knocked my tears loose, but I held them in and cleared my throat. “I was just thinking the same thing. I think I’m going to be spending a lot more time in New Orleans from here on out.”

  My dad gave me a half smile, probably the biggest one he could without pain. “I like the sound of that.”

  To see that joy on my father’s face, there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do. “You got it, Daddy.” I looked to the doctor standing near the wall. “Sorry to interrupt. I just—”

  He waved me off. “Don’t worry about it. As I was telling your brother and father, they’ll be here shortly to get him down for a CT scan, and we’ll go from there.”

  The panic that was just starting to fade kicked up again. “CT scan?” I jerked to look at Heath and my dad.

  Dad answered. “They’re worried about me knocking my head and jacking my hip up.”

  “What?”

  When no one elaborated further, a tense silence hung in the room. The doctor excused himself, and I drilled Heath with a stare. His look again carried enough warning that I couldn’t miss it. Now wasn’t the time to ask questions. We made small talk with Dad until someone knocked on the door and it opened to reveal a woman dressed in scrubs.

  “Mr. Sampson, we’re ready for you.”

  I backed away, hating that they were wheeling him out of sight. The door shut, leaving Heath and me alone in the room.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked as soon as the door shut.

  “He wandered down into a bad neighborhood and got jumped.”

  “He got jumped? They could’ve killed him!” I hadn’t been a New Orleans resident in a long time, but even I knew the city had a dark side that couldn’t be hidden.

  Heath crossed the room and dragged me into a hug. “But they didn’t. He’s okay. We’ll make sure this never happens again.”

  My mind raced through the possibilities. “We can get him twenty-four-hour care if he doesn’t want to leave his house. I can afford the best, and you know damn well I’ll make sure he gets it.”

  My brother kissed the top of my head. “I know. We’ll figure it out. You know he’s stubborn as hell, and he’s still a little out of it. This isn’t going to be easy for any of us.”

  I squeezed him harder. “I meant what I said. I’ll stay as long as I need to. He needs both of us.”

  “Yeah, he does.” Heath loosened his grip and I looked up. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

  “Do you want to try to move him into the place I’m renting? Maybe it would be easier?”

  “I don’t think a lot of change is a good idea right now. Let’s see what they say about his hip first. Then we’ll decide.”

  “Okay. We’ll do whatever we have to.”

  The door opened and Rhett stepped inside.

  Heath released me. “There’s our hero. He found him. Who knows how long we would’ve been out there without his help.”

  I didn’t care that my brother was watching. I crossed the room and threw my arms around Rhett.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to him again.

  “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done for me,” he said as he gently wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pressed my face into his chest.

  “Whatever you say,” Heath said, “but I’m damn glad you were here. We owe you.”

  “He’s right. We do.”

  Rhett held me tighter. “None of that owing shit. This is what we do.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Dad and his hospital bed were returned to their previous position. Conscious of all the eyes on us, I stepped out of Rhett’s arms.

  “I wondered how long it would take him to make a move on my girl. Took him long enough, but I’m glad to see he finally figured it out.”
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  My face heated, and I was sure it had turned red at my dad’s words.

  My instinct was to inch away from Rhett, but he looped an arm around my waist and pulled me in front of him.

  “Glad we’ve got your blessing, sir.”

  “Take good care of my girl.”

  “Of course, sir. Understood.”

  “Good.”

  I took the clarity in my father’s words as a good sign, even though a few moments of awkward silence followed. We waited another hour before the results of the CT scan were delivered. Dad had a hip fracture, but nothing that would require surgery. They weren’t able to determine the cause of his altered mental state.

  “He’s lucky it’s not worse,” the doctor explained. “We’ll keep him overnight to run a series of tests, make sure he’s stable, and get a neuro consult. Depending on what we find, it might be a good idea to look into rehab facilities for the hip fracture.”

  Dad protested, but Heath and I overruled him. When I volunteered to stay with Dad and sleep on the pull-out chair, Heath overruled me.

  “I’m pulling rank on this one. Go home. I need to stay with him to make myself feel better about letting him wander off. This was on me.”

  I argued and told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t listen. As we left the room, two uniformed officers waited outside, ready to take Dad’s statement despite the late hour.

  I paused in the hallway. “I don’t know how much he’ll be able to tell you.”

  The young officer shrugged. “Any little bit helps. We want to get out there and find whoever did this. Do you want us to wait?”

  “No, now’s fine. It’ll be a while before they move him to a room,” Heath said to the officer. When I opened my mouth to volunteer to stay again, he shot a pointed look at me. “Go get some sleep, Ari. I got this.”

  That was how I found myself back in Hennessy’s Jeep at four o’clock in the morning, heading back to my place. I’d sent Carver home earlier, knowing it would be a long wait and there was no reason to keep him.

  When we pulled up to the gate, Rhett punched in the code that he clearly remembered. After he parked the Jeep in the driveway, I shared my decision.

 

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