by Sandra Brown
"Why did you take Sally's body to my house?"
"Because you'd told me that Monday was the day you were making your presentation to the Delray client. Knowing you, I didn't think the crisis in Merritt would keep you from that. And I was right, wasn't I? I figured you would be in Houston Sunday evening to prepare, and thought that extra little surprise would really leave everyone scratching their heads. And it did! By the way, I've been meaning to ask, did you catch the song I was humming when I called you? 'Spinning Wheel.' Get it?"
Berry refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. "You're still a long way from getting away with this, Oren."
"Would I leave a stone unturned, Berry? No. This past weekend, I lined up several alibis. Early Saturday morning, I drove over to Louisiana, where I'd rented a cabin for the entire summer. Backwoods. Cajun country. Everybody's kin to everybody else, and outsiders are noticed. I had my head shaved at the local barbershop. The barber will remember, believe me, because I was squeamish about making such a drastic change in my appearance.
"In the supermarket I created quite a scene over some spoiled milk I'd bought several days before, and I had the receipt to prove it. People in the store at that time will remember me. I made sure of it.
"If the authorities inspect the cabin, it will appear that I've been there. Trash dating back several weeks. Fresh produce in the fridge. There's no TV, no radio, no computer with Internet, so I was completely out of touch with the outside world. I'd heard no news.
"Only when I returned to Texas did I learn that my demented brother had murdered three people during my absence! And he's dead, too! Oh, woe is me! I'm devastated!" He smiled smugly. "You see? I've got it all covered."
"It seems you do. Except for one thing. I'm still alive."
"Not for long."
"If you kill me now, the authorities will know Carl didn't do it."
"Random act of violence," he said flippantly. "Two women left alone in a lake house. A deviant comes along." He shrugged, leaving the rest unfinished.
"That would be awfully coincidental, Oren," Berry said. "I don't think any peace officer would believe that."
"Any peace officer like your brawny Deputy Nyland?" he sneered.
"If anything happens to Mother and me now, you'll naturally be the prime suspect."
"Nyland might suspect, but--"
"Nyland knows."
They all jumped at the sound of the voice coming from the open doorway that connected the kitchen to the dining area. Berry nearly fainted with relief. Dodge stood there, his hands raised high above his head.
Oren squealed as he jabbed the barrel of the pistol against Berry's temple. "I'll kill her!"
"No!" Dodge kept his hands in the air but frantically waved them. "Please don't."
He was red in the face and short of breath, as if he'd just run a mile before stepping through the doorway. His shirt was sticking to him with sweat. Berry shifted her eyes to her mother, who didn't seem all that surprised to see him, and, in that split second, she realized that, somehow or another, Caroline had known he would appear when they most needed him.
He said, "I just want to talk to you, Oren."
"Who are you?"
"Berry's father."
Oren sputtered. "That's not true. Jim Malone's dead. Do you think I'm stupid? You're a cop they sent in here to--"
"I'm not a cop, Oren. I'm Berry's father. And I don't think you're stupid. I know you're smart. Too smart to pull that trigger. Because as soon as you do, Nyland's going to take you out. He's former Army. Special Forces. The best of the badasses.
"And right now, he's got a rifle aimed at you that looks like it could blow your eye out from a mile away. If you kill Berry, he'll do it. The only reason he hasn't pulled the trigger yet is on the outside chance that he'd miss you and hit her. But if you kill her, he'll have nothing to lose. He'll squeeze that trigger, and your head will disintegrate, and I bullshit you not."
Oren wet his lips and gripped the pistol more tightly. "You're trying to trick me."
"While you've got a pistol aimed at my only kid's head? No way."
"She's not your kid."
"She is. I left her in the hospital nursery the day she was born and only just reunited with her. Don't take her from me now. Please."
"You're breaking my heart," Oren said.
"All right. You don't care about us, think about yourself. Don't be foolish enough to think Nyland sent me in here to bargain with you. The man's a cowboy. He wants you dead. I had to fight my way past the son of a bitch to get in here. Thought I might get a bullet in the back at any second."
"You're a cop."
"I swear I'm not."
"It's true, Oren," Caroline said. "He's Berry's birth father. He abandoned her just as he said."
"I don't believe you."
"Who else besides a desperate father would defy Nyland, huh?" He looked at Berry and changed the tone of his voice. "You're bleeding. Does it hurt too bad?"
"No. I'm okay."
"Shut up! Shut up!" Oren said shrilly. "I'm not falling for this."
"Please," Dodge implored. "Don't harm my baby." Suddenly, he grimaced and sucked in a wheezing breath. Exhaling it slowly, he said, "Nyland is so pissing mad at me right now, he'll probably shoot me, too. But if you kill my daughter and Caroline..." His gaze shifted to her and stayed for several seconds. Then, back to Oren, he said, "If you harm them, I'd just as soon die."
Out the corner of her eye, Berry could see Oren in profile. His face was greasy with sweat. She could feel his nervous tension, his indecision. His bravado had vanished. She could smell his fear that what Dodge was telling him was true.
Dodge took a few steps toward them, but Oren dug the barrel of the pistol into her temple, and Dodge halted immediately. "Okay, okay," he said quickly. "I won't come any closer. But if you want to live, Oren, you gotta surrender."
"No!" He gave his head a stubborn shake, like a child refusing to eat his vegetables.
"Now's not the time to get stupid, Oren. Nyland found out about your brother, figured you'd come after Berry. He's got this place..." Dodge winced. His breath caught.
"Dodge?" Caroline stood up abruptly. Oren shouted for her to sit back down, and she did, but remained perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes worriedly fixed on Dodge.
"I'm all right," he said, patting the air. "Just winded from fighting off Nyland." Looking back at Oren, he said, "The house is surrounded. Nyland was the first here. He saw you through the windows. Saw you holding that gun to Berry's head. He's got the whole sheriff's department, Texas Rangers, every uniform he can think of, in position and armed to the teeth. All of them want a crack at you so bad, they're hyperventilating."
He cast a guilty glance toward the front windows. "Of course, I'm not supposed to be telling you that. Just hear this, Oren, and hear me good. You can't possibly escape. Come on. Let Berry go. Release her and Caroline. Give yourself up."
"I told you no!"
"All right. Don't surrender. I'll be your hostage. I'll help get you out of here in one piece. I'll negotiate--" He broke off as he gave a sharp cry and clapped his right hand over his left shoulder. Bending double, he staggered several feet forward. As he did, he pulled his pistol from the holster at the small of his back.
But it was of no use to him. When he pitched forward and fell to the floor in obvious agony, the pistol dropped from his listless hand and slid across the hardwood.
Caroline, ignoring Oren's warning shout, launched off the sofa and flung herself down over Dodge, calling his name repeatedly.
Berry screamed, "Mother! Dodge!"
Oren, frantic at having lost control of the situation, pushed Berry aside and kicked Dodge's pistol out of reach, then bent over Caroline and struggled to pull her off Dodge. "Shut up! Get back over there!"
Berry gave the side of Oren's knee a vicious kick. It buckled and he howled, but he didn't release Caroline, who held on to Dodge, still wailing his name.
Oren doubl
ed his efforts to haul her up.
Berry bicycled her legs against him, striking him as hard as she could with her bare feet.
He let go of Caroline, spun around, and aimed his pistol down at Berry's face. "I said I would kill you!"
Then there were two loud claps in rapid succession. Before Berry could even register Oren's surprised expression, he dropped to the floor with two bright blooms of red on his chest.
Ski burst into the room, pistol drawn. Other officers rushed in behind him and swarmed over Oren's prone form. Ski bent over Berry, who was struggling to stand up. "Help me."
He pulled her up, supporting her as she stumbled over to the couple huddled on the floor. Hands still manacled, she awkwardly dropped to her knees beside them, joining her mother's mournful chant of her father's name.
One of the deputies called out, "Starks is dead, Ski."
Berry barely registered that. Her concern was channeled strictly to Dodge. She released a sob of relief when he eased Caroline off him and came up on his elbows. In his right hand was a small, blunt-barreled pistol.
Caroline threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. She was openly weeping. "You scared me half to death!"
Looking up at Ski, he wheezed, "Motherfucker was resisting arrest."
"You had no choice. He would have killed Berry." Ski gave him an arch look. "You failed to tell me about the second pistol. Ankle holster?"
Dodge, still struggling for breath, nodded.
"Well, you faked him out," Ski said. "Especially with the heart attack."
Caroline, who had been anxiously studying Dodge, suddenly realized the truth of the matter and gave a startled cry.
Dodge gasped, "I wasn't faking that."
EPILOGUE
I'M CALLING ABOUT DODGE HANLEY," SKI SAID TO DEREK Mitchell's polite but firm personal assistant who had told him that Mr. Mitchell was unavailable. "If he's there, put me through. If he's not, tell me where I can reach him."
Ski was asked to hold, and seconds later the attorney came on the line. "Deputy Nyland? This is Derek Mitchell. Marlene said you were calling about Dodge. What is it? Is he all right?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Mitchell." Ski delivered the news forthrightly, which he figured the attorney would appreciate. "It was a bad one. He arrested twice in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. CPR kept him alive. Barely.
"I didn't call you sooner because I didn't have anything solid to report until just a few minutes ago, when the cardiac surgeon came out to give us the lowdown. Dodge held on through the surgery, but the doctor used words like infarct and friable, and he didn't sugarcoat the prognosis."
"Which is what? How bad?"
"Chance of survival, fifty-fifty. And the surgeon said that's optimistic. Dodge is at risk to suffer another heart attack or a stroke. The surgeon said he'll feel a lot more confident of his survival if he's still alive forty-eight hours from now."
The silence on the other end was ponderous. Derek Mitchell's concern was palpable. He cleared his throat twice before he was able to speak. "You said 'us.' The surgeon came out to talk to 'us.'"
"How much do you know about the situation here?"
"Only that Dodge went down there to help out his daughter, whom he hadn't seen since the day she was born. I talked to him today, asked how it was going, and all he would say was 'fine.' He was crotchety and evasive, but that's typical."
Ski had to smile. "Yeah, I know." He gave the attorney a brief summary of the events that had led up to Dodge's going into the lake house to negotiate with Oren Starks. "Dodge insisted. Said he would go in with or without my sanction. Said I couldn't stop him with a team of wild horses or a Sherman tank. Said he would save those two women or die trying."
The grim irony of his vow hadn't escaped Ski. "Berry had the presence of mind to keep Starks talking, but Dodge and I were wasting precious time arguing over his plan, so I agreed to it. He was confident that he could play Starks and get him to release Berry and Caroline and then to surrender. He almost pulled it off. He faked everything except the heart attack.
"When I saw him lose his pistol, topple, I almost had a heart attack myself. I thought it was over. And it was for Starks. Dodge hadn't told me he was packing an extra handgun." Wryly he added, "He played me, too, I guess."
"Ankle holster?"
"How'd you know?"
"He's never without it."
"I know that now."
Ski glanced over at Berry, where she sat with Caroline at a table in the hospital cafeteria. The surgeon had said it would be a while before anyone could see Dodge, so they had come down for coffee. But he noticed that their cups had been left untouched. On the tabletop, their hands were tightly clasped, as if they were both dispensing and deriving comfort from the contact.
Sharing a common urgency, the two men wrapped up their conversation. "What did he say?" Berry asked when Ski rejoined her and Caroline at the table.
"Thanked me profusely for notifying him. He's going to charter a private jet to fly him and his wife here. Soon as he knows where they'll be landing, he'll text me. I'll dispatch somebody to pick them up, bring them straight here. It'll be the wee hours, probably, but he didn't want to wait until tomorrow."
None of them questioned the reason behind Derek Mitchell's haste.
Berry said, "Dodge will be glad they're here. He talks about them all the time. He loves them."
"Gauging by Mitchell's reaction, I think the feeling is mutual."
"In Dodge's mind, he doesn't deserve to be loved."
They looked at Caroline, who'd spoken in a soft voice, made even gruffer from crying. Up till then, Ski hadn't been sure she was even following their conversation. Berry leaned across the table. "What makes you say that, Mother?"
"His father told him so, by the way he treated him if not in actual words. Dodge believed him. Up to the day you were born and I ordered him out of our lives, he'd been trying to earn everyone's respect and acceptance. Everyone's love." She looked down at her hands, which she was twisting together. "Ever since that day, he's been trying to kill himself for being unlovable."
Ski agreed with Caroline, and he figured Berry did, too, although they weren't going to say so, because that would lay unfair blame at Caroline's doorstep. Dodge had willfully cheated. By doing so, he had thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to him. Caroline had taken a position and refused to back down. Neither had won.
The loss to both had been enormous, and it had defined the paths their lives would take for the next thirty years. Years that could have been happier for all of them. If only he'd been faithful. If only her rejection hadn't been absolute.
Caroline's cell phone rang. Knowing that she'd given her number to the ICU nurse, they all reacted with alarm. Bracing herself for the worst, Caroline answered.
She listened for several seconds, then said, "I'll be right there," and disconnected. She was trembling as she pushed back her chair and stood up. "He's regaining consciousness."
"Thank God," Berry whispered, obviously sharing Ski's relief that the news hadn't been what they feared.
"She said if I come right now, I can see him for five minutes."
"Go," Berry said, making shooing motions with her hands. "Run. We'll be right up."
Caroline gave her a grateful look, then dashed toward the cafeteria's exit.
Berry was none too steady as she stood up. She looked at Ski through watery eyes. Then her face crumpled, and she began to cry. He reached for her and hugged her close.
"I've been holding myself together for her sake, but I can't any longer."
"Go ahead and cry."
Oblivious to the other people in the cafeteria, he stroked her back and continued to hold her as sobs shook her entire body. She might lose the father she'd just found. That was bitter. She also bore the guilt for everything that had happened, and she would carry it for a long time.
He admired her for taking up that mantle. A more shallow individual would have made self-serving ex
cuses and shrugged it off. His admiration was also tinged with pity. He had firsthand knowledge of how heavy a burden guilt could be. Only by sheer force of will would she carry on with her life and, eventually, forgive herself. He was confident she had the fiber to do it. She was, after all, a combination of two determined, hardheaded people.
Having cried herself out, she pulled away from him, plucked a napkin from the dispenser on the table, and used it to blot her eyes and face. "Well, that was a spectacle."
"Not really, and anyway, who cares?"
She gave him a wavering smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"We'd better get upstairs. Mother may need me."
With his hand curved around the back of her neck, Ski guided her from the cafeteria and across the lobby toward the elevator bank. One was available, and they were alone as they rode up to the ICU floor.
He bent down and gently kissed the butterfly clip above her eye. It had been required to close the gash caused by the butt of Oren Starks's pistol.
She leaned into him. "I know you have duties, responsibilities. But if you can, I'd like for you to stick around."
"I'll stick around."
She looked up into his face. "Think before you commit, Ski. It might be for quite a while, and the outcome is unsure."
Knowing that they were now talking not only about the vigil at Dodge's bedside but also about their future together, he cupped her face between his hands and touched her lips tenderly with his. "I'll stick around."
It surprised the hell out of Dodge when he came to. He had a good buzz going. Everything within his field of vision was blurry around the edges, and his overall feeling was one of languor. It felt like he had a fifty-pound weight sitting on his chest, but that was only mildly uncomfortable. The best part, Caroline was there, bending over him, stroking his hair.
So even if he was dead, his afterlife wasn't half bad. He wondered if smoking was allowed. If so, this really was heaven.