Private Lives
Page 39
Lindsay halted in the act of spooning coleslaw on Steele’s plate. “You mean he’ll get away scot-free? No. Uh-uh.”
“Maybe for the accident,” Steele said, “but not for the kidnapping.”
“On the other hand,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I’d want to subject her to actually testifying. There could be psychological problems later when she realized she was the key to her father’s conviction for murder.”
“It would probably be reckless endangerment, not murder,” Louie said, speaking up for the first time. Elizabeth was well aware that she’d been avoiding him. She was still struggling to come to terms with the truth about his past. More than once today, she’d felt his eyes on her, anxious and hopeful. “His lawyer will argue that it was not a premeditated act, but a crime of passion.”
Passion. To label it passion when rage and violence come together to end the life of a person was a shameful desecration of life’s most perfect emotion, she thought. Passion was her fierce love for Jesse. Passion was what drove her to create fiction for children. Passion was what she and Ryan shared. Passion as an excuse for murder was an abomination.
Across the lawn, Archie began barking at a squirrel teasing him from the fence along the rear property line. When he didn’t cease, Louie rose from the table and headed toward the dog. Jesse, seeing Louie, left the gazebo and the two teens and ran to “help” Louie. As Elizabeth watched, he took the little girl’s hand. Jesse wasn’t burdened with bothersome questions of integrity and honor. She simply knew Louie loved her and responded in kind. Elizabeth turned her attention back to the adults around the table.
Lindsay was talking. “Could it be possible that Gina was not as critically injured in the accident as Austin claims? Do we think he’s capable of seizing an opportunity when nobody would know to free himself of a ton of trouble?”
“By ton of trouble, do you include Gina’s pregnancy?” Elizabeth took a potato chip from a basket. “I’m convinced she told him about it that night. He would have been furious.”
“So she left in her car to avoid a scene right there in the restaurant—”
Elizabeth interrupted. “And to protect Jesse from emotional, if not physical, damage.”
“And he was crazy-mad enough to chase her, butting the rear end of her car hard enough and often enough to make her lose control?” Lindsay finished.
“I think that’s exactly what happened,” Elizabeth said.
“And then he approached the car after the crash and finished her off?” Megan asked with an expression of horror on her face.
Ryan sat straddling a chair nearby. “I don’t know, ladies. That part of the scenario is pretty cold-blooded. It doesn’t seem to fit with the way his violence was usually triggered. We know from Gina and from his other women that when his buttons were pushed, he exploded into quick violence. Walking up to her car after seeing it crash, he wouldn’t know if she was badly hurt. But say he realizes she is. He’d have to find a weapon—a tool from his car or her car, cope with Jesse who was not unconscious, do the deed and then dispose of the tool. There was nothing found at the accident site. Most important, Jesse didn’t say anything about that.”
Steele reached for another drumstick. “The truth is, we’ll never know exactly what happened. Once Austin is lawyered up, the case will probably focus on the kidnapping, which is a serious offense. Couple that with the fact that his career’s ruined and you have a certain degree of justice. It won’t bring complete closure for you, but he’s one less brutal guy to prey on other women.” He put the drumstick on his plate without tasting it. “My sister’s killer was never charged. He left no evidence, no eyewitnesses, and no closure for my family.”
Everyone grew quiet, each with his own thoughts. The trauma of the past night was not forgotten, nor was Gina’s untimely death. But there was a general feeling of gladness in everyone gathered at the table. For herself, Elizabeth could have named many things, not the least the quiet joy of knowing Ryan loved her and they would have a life together. Somehow the terrible event that took Gina had worked to enrich Elizabeth’s life. It was something she’d have to come to terms with. She knew it wouldn’t be easy.
She watched now as Louie and Jesse, with a subdued Archie, headed for the fountain. Jesse, chattering away, urged him down beside her on the low stone wall and began a spirited account of the kidnapping, complete with the moment when she clung to a “big hook stuck in a pole in really, really cold water, Papa Louie,” and felt a crab nibbling on her toes. He’d heard the story several times already, but he listened now as attentively as if hearing it for the first time.
Looking up, Louie caught Elizabeth watching them. His face sobered, searching hers for the forgiveness he believed she still withheld. She took in the slight stoop of his shoulders, his silver beard, his hand cradling Jesse’s tiny one. It came to her that there had always been a kind of sadness in Louie’s eyes and that she had it in her power to take away that sadness. She turned, found Ryan watching her, urging her. She felt a great rush of emotion, a fullness that was both affection and gladness. The letter was in her pocket. She slipped a hand inside and felt its crackle, ran her fingers over and around it. It was so emotional. Had she written it to give to Louie or was it a sort of catharsis for herself? As closure perhaps, much as Jesse’s abduction had put an end to her silence and eased her childish fears?
She saw Jesse jump up to catch Archie, off again chasing the squirrel. Then, hesitating for a heartbeat, she found herself moving toward her father. She had so much now, life’s greatest gifts: love, family, friendship, justice. She stopped at his feet and pulled the letter out of her pocket. As she handed it over, a look of surprised joy lit his face. He studied the envelope, holding it with unsteady hands. His name, Judge Matthew Walker. The return, Elizabeth Walker. His eyes, when he looked up and met hers, shone with tears. “This time, I promise to answer,” he said.
She smiled, and left him reading.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6307-2
PRIVATE LIVES
Copyright © 2003 by Karen Stone.
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