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Love Rerouted

Page 31

by Leddy Harper


  I’d kept my mouth closed this long, so I didn’t see much need in divulging the details now. Granted, not many people had been too interested in hearing what I had to say. Back when it all went down, a few of my superiors at the station had asked, though nothing I could’ve told them would’ve changed how they saw me. In their eyes, I’d betrayed them and their trust. I’d tainted their faith and their positions. But Davies hadn’t known me. His curiosity—while I wasn’t sure where it had stemmed from—wasn’t personal.

  “I never set out to deal drugs. I was an officer, and a damn good one at that. I was dependable and respected. I took my job seriously. It meant everything to me. I’d never married, never had kids, and after the only woman I’ve ever loved passed away, my badge became my whole world. It was who I was…my identity.”

  Davies laughed, though it sounded far more like a snarl. “Hard to believe,” he grunted beneath his breath.

  “You don’t have to, but it’s the truth.”

  “How does someone as honorable as you wind up running his own ring—for years—without getting caught? Huh? They say they don’t even have an accurate body count for you. Yet you want me to believe you were some stand-up guy? Fuck that.”

  “I pulled a kid over for driving too slow.” I refused to let him have the last word. “Turns out he was only twelve, could barely see over the steering wheel. Stole the car from some house in the next town over. The trunk was full of it…bags upon bags of pills, bricks of cocaine, marijuana. You name it, and it was in there. I moved it all over to my car while the kid sat in the back seat. He was a wreck, nearly pissed himself after I found the stash. Guess he didn’t know it was there. And after I had it all switched over, waiting for the tow truck to show up, I’d decided to let the kid out. I was hoping I could talk to him, find out where the car had come from, why he’d taken it. He just stood there and cried…” I had to stop, the memory of that day becoming too real, as if I were reliving it, and I needed to shove down the pain like I had done for the last fifteen years.

  “Ain’t got all day, Culberson.”

  I nodded and continued with the story of how the Shadowman began. “A truck came barreling down the road—big truck. I don’t know when it happened, when he made the decision to do it or when he even saw it coming, but he slipped around me and threw himself in front of it. To this day, I still don’t know who he was. Never got a name. Poor kid never had a funeral.”

  “Sad story, but what does that have to do with the drugs?”

  “I was a fucking wreck when backup arrived. I’d forgotten all about what I had in my trunk. In fact, I’d been put on mandatory leave until I spoke to a counselor and got released, and during that week, it remained in the back of my car. By the time I remembered, I didn’t know what the hell to do. I’d convinced myself I’d lose my job, the one and only thing I had in my life that meant anything to me. So, for a week, I hid it all in my house. I kept checking on the stolen vehicle, hoping it would lead me to the owner, but it never did. The woman it was registered to had died, and I doubted the drugs were hers. Eventually, I didn’t have much of a choice—sell it or flush it.”

  “I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and say you made the wrong choice.”

  I nodded, no longer needing to fill him in on the rest. “I’d found this kid, Samuel. He got it all off my hands, and before I knew it, it became a regular thing. If I busted someone, I took the evidence and he turned it into cash. More money than I’d ever made on the force. Greed got to me, and the rest is history.”

  “Seems it didn’t take much to tarnish your moral compass. Did you leave him on the bottom of a lake like you did your sis?”

  If he kept this up, I wouldn’t be able to refrain from attacking him—and that would get me killed. “Mandy had lost her husband, her house, her job…she needed someone to help pick up the broken pieces of her life. We’d always been close, but I’d lost myself down the rabbit hole for the previous eight or so years. I hadn’t been around like I should’ve. Anyway…she and her daughter moved in, and I made sure to keep that shit far away from them. By that point, I’d secured an old meth house under someone else’s name, couldn’t be traced back to me, so I didn’t have much to worry about.”

  “What happened to your partner?” He seemed intent on getting that answer.

  I paused long enough to hold his stare, and then I continued with my story. “Mandy, my sister, had left the house after my niece went to school. She wasn’t supposed to be back for hours, and I had to finish getting ready for a run.” I didn’t need to explain that; he knew I wasn’t talking about a jog. “So, I had the bricks of coke delivered to me. Normally, there was a system in place that kept me separated from the business while remaining in control. But this one got fucked up, and my only way around it was to have the shit brought directly to me. Amanda came home while I was in the shower. By the time I got out, she’d already seen what was in the bag.”

  “And then you killed her?”

  “She took off,” I corrected him through gritted teeth. “I chased after her. She drove erratically and ended up swerving just before the bridge. Her car fishtailed and she lost control. I couldn’t get to her fast enough. I already told you…I didn’t kill her.” No, I hadn’t driven her into the cold water that day, but when I realized I wouldn’t be able to save her, I’d turned around and went home.

  I’d always thought nothing could get worse than witnessing a kid jump in front of an oncoming truck.

  But it could.

  And it had.

  Losing my sister had devastated me. Fear of scrutiny had kept me from calling for help; however, the thought of devastating Maggie had been the final reason for my silence. Telling her that her mother had abandoned her was hard, yet not comparable to the agony she would’ve suffered had I told her that her mother had died.

  So, I’d stuck with that story, no matter how hard it got at times.

  “What’s next? You gonna tell me you didn’t attack her little girl, either?”

  I ran my palm down my face and leaned forward. “No.”

  Maggie was supposed to have been with her friend. I’d been on shift that night, at the station, so I’d gotten left out of the loop until morning. Hell, I’d heard about the dead body at the auto shop without once realizing the victim had been my guy.

  Over the next twenty-four hours, I had been hit with more information than anyone would’ve known what to do with. My niece was missing, my runner had been murdered, and a bag of cash had disappeared. Marcus and Robby had pieced a lot of it together—such as Maggie being with the guys at the house, her holding the backpack, and then her taking off. They’d also explained how she might’ve overheard a private conversation…one that had involved me and my connection with them.

  Worry.

  Anger.

  Utter fucking rage.

  Those were the stages of emotions I had experienced while desperately trying to track down my niece. Murderous had been the one emotion Marcus or Robby hadn’t been fond of; probably because it had left them each with a bullet hole in their foreheads and bricks tied to their ankles.

  As far as I knew, the authorities still hadn’t found their bodies.

  Finally, the next evening, the “Find My Phone” feature had picked up a signal for Maggie.

  Mississippi.

  Technology was amazing; I was able to zero in on the exact location of her cell. All it took was one call to the local cops, plead with them to find my missing niece who had run away, and they’d sent a cruiser to the motel.

  I never should’ve sent her that text.

  Never should’ve warned her that I’d found her.

  Fury had been the catalyst for that reaction. Spiteful vindication. Evil gloating. And in the end, I was the one with mud on my face—while she had once again taken off, not to be seen for almost six months.

  “I obsessively tried to find her.” The words just came out, needing to be freed. And even though I’d skipped a large po
rtion of my moral descent, Davies either didn’t care or he was more familiar with my case than he’d let on, because he didn’t stop to seek clarification. “There was someone in lockup, facing charges for the murder of my guy—he was the owner of the body shop—yet somehow, I hadn’t paid much attention to him, other than to make sure my runner hadn’t died with loose lips. Ya know?”

  I wasn’t sure why I’d asked that. I guess I’d forgotten where I was and who sat in front of me. Somewhere in the back of my head, I must’ve desired a companion to talk to. Who the fuck was I kidding? I’d yearned for one of those ever since I’d lost the love of my life to cancer.

  I shook it off and fisted my hands, needing to regain my bearings before I convinced myself that Davies was my friend. “I was distraught over Maggie being gone, worried as fuck that she’d say something to someone—or already had. But not nearly as freaked out that something had happened to her. Despite everything, I couldn’t have handled losing her, too.”

  “You’re one sick, twisted motherfucker. You know that?”

  I shrugged. Honestly, I’d heard worse; though nothing ever came close to how I thought of myself. There was a reason I’d never shared my story with anyone, including my lawyer. And that was because I didn’t want sympathy. I wasn’t looking for someone to feel bad or tell me I was a good person who’d made bad decisions. I knew the truth. I’d known it every day when I looked at my reflection. Every day when I’d exchanged cash for pills or powder…or a handgun. And there was no denying it any time I had used one of those guns on one of my own guys.

  They may have been thugs, ruthless and no good.

  But they had been someone’s son.

  I’d exploited abandoned teens who were starved for attention, hungry for approval. All they ever wanted was to make me proud. I had taken that and manipulated it for my own benefit. I’d slid so far down the rabbit hole, there was no coming back; my moral compass was beyond repair. Because rather than see those boys for their honest, redeemable potential, I’d turned their loss into my gain.

  No one would’ve missed them if they were gone.

  “The entire time she was missing, I couldn’t think straight. I’d become paranoid, always looking over my shoulder. I’d lost a few guys in the crew over it, and because of that, my entire operation had gotten out of hand. I had boys pushing shit on the street—I’m talking twelve fucking years old. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell ya where they had come from. I wasn’t in control. Of anything. Nothing. And the ones who had picked up the slack didn’t have a clue how things were supposed to be handled behind the scenes. The state had started to gear up for the trial, and half the county was talking about it. Except…I couldn’t pay attention to any of that. At any point, had I looked at his case, listened to any part of his arrest, I would’ve had something tangible to find Maggie.”

  Davies just sat there, leaning against the wall and listening to me. And for a moment, no matter how brief it would be, I was able to convince myself that I had a friend. I had someone to unload my pain on, confess my sins to. He couldn’t absolve me of my guilt, but at least I could get it off my chest.

  “One day, when I least expected it, an estate lawyer from Florida called. For months, anytime my cell rang, my heart skipped a few beats—partly out of fear of being caught, out of dread that I’d be told Maggie was dead, and a small amount of anticipation over her being found alive and well. But this time, my phone rang and I didn’t think about it. I glanced at the unknown number and answered.”

  Davies sat up a little straighter, almost as if he’d become interested in the next part of the story.

  “Back before my sister had moved in with me, she’d planned to stay with her late husband’s parents in Florida. However, her mother-in-law had become ill, so she ended up with me. Well, come to find out, her father-in-law had passed away and left his house to her.”

  “Why?” He seemed distrusting, although intrigued all the same.

  “They only had one child, who had married my sister, and together, they had Maggie. He died in combat. Apparently, his mother had passed away shortly after Mandy moved in with me. So with no other family to leave anything to, he’d set it up for everything to go to my sister with a trust set aside for Maggie. At the time, Maggie was a minor; otherwise, I’m sure he would’ve left it all to her.”

  “Then why’d the lawyer call you?”

  “Because my house was her last known address. There was no record of her death, and as far as anyone knew, she’d run off and left Maggie with me.”

  “People bought that shit?”

  I shrugged. “She was depressed…had been ever since she lost her husband. That was no secret, so no one batted an eye when I told them she’d gotten really down and couldn’t handle being a mother anymore.”

  His top lip curled in disgust. “Doesn’t sound like a grieving brother to me. But carry on.”

  I shook my head, ignoring his comment. “The lawyer called looking for my sister. I wasn’t sure what to tell him, so I just kept asking what it pertained to, which he refused to answer. Finally, when I reiterated that Mandy had run away and more than likely wouldn’t be back, but that I’d be happy to relay his message when she called, he caved. I hadn’t once thought to look for Maggie at her grandfather’s house. Honestly, I didn’t know he was still alive. But as soon as I found out, I hopped in my car and drove straight there. At the time, I thought it was best…you know, give me time to cool off before I got there. But looking back, I realize it had the opposite effect. I got angrier and angrier, and by the time I made it there, I exploded. All I could think about was her phone. I needed to erase the messages from that night. There weren’t many from me, but my runner had tried to contact her, and I had no clue what he said.”

  “You almost killed her over a few fucking texts?”

  No one would ever be able to beat me up about that as much as I’d beaten myself up. Paranoia, along with rage and intense fear, had clouded my judgment. It had blinded me to my actions, justifying it all in ways that had made sense at the time. Although, once the fog had cleared, I realized nothing could excuse what I had done.

  Nothing.

  “I wasn’t trying to kill her. I’m not saying that what I did was okay or right. I’m aware I went too far, that I fucked things up. I didn’t know she was pregnant, so all these people saying I threw her out a window and purposely killed her unborn child are wrong. That’s not what happened.” I paused to calm down, needing a moment to lower my heartrate. “She kept talking, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It was like I had my head underwater and everything sounded muffled. It just made me angrier until I lost it.”

  The image of Maggie’s lifeless body would have to be scrubbed from my memory. It was always there. Anytime I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the reminder of what I’d done, of how far I had allowed it to go.

  “I called for help and then waited for the ambulance to come. I hid down the street, and as soon as the hospital called, I went to her.” Actually, I had to hold back and wait, considering I wasn’t supposed to be in Florida. That had been one of the nails in my coffin. “I got her the best care, handled the burial of the baby, and sat by her side every single second she was there.”

  “You think you deserve praise for holding her hand after you killed her baby? Should she have thanked you for calling for help after you almost killed her? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Davies stood and began to pace between the beds.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I fucked up. I know I fucked up, and I’m aware that there’s no way to go back and change any of it. I think at some point along the way, I knew I’d never be right again. It was like digging one hole to fill in the next…and sometimes, the holes had bodies in them. I had to live two lives—the well-respected officer, and the criminal. By the end, the darkness had begun to seep into the rest of my life. Fifteen years is a long time to be two very different people, especially when they are on opposite sides of th
e law. Paranoia had become an everyday emotion for me.”

  “So…you glad it’s over?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  “You still haven’t explained what happened to your partner…the guy who liquidated your first stash.”

  I narrowed my gaze at him, wondering why he wouldn’t just let that go. Yet I shook it off and answered him anyway. “He got brazen, dared to blackmail me. He thought he ran the show and decided to hold my job against me unless he got his way. He didn’t like me calling the shots.”

  “Is he at the bottom of the lake, too?”

  “No. I didn’t utilize that space until way later.” I pulled in a deep breath and thought back to Samuel, the asshat who’d incorrectly assumed that threatening me would be a good idea. Mostly, though, I thought about his eye color. They were so pale, an icy mixture of green and blue, almost colorless yet wickedly cold when they trapped you in his stare. Oddly enough, they looked exactly the same in death.

  Just then, the announcement broke over the intercom. It was yard time. We all headed out together in an easy flow. Although, the closer to the gate I got, seeing the sun filter inside, the more chilled my skin became. It was odd, considering the weather wasn’t cool. In fact, they had reported record highs over the last few days.

  Suddenly, with my left side against the wall, less than twenty feet from the yard, a man in front of me stopped and turned around. His stare gutted me—not because of the intensity, but because of the icy-blue irises that held me hostage.

  I’d seen them before.

  When I froze, my heart refusing to pump blood to my brain, I took in the rest of his features. Most were similar, few were different, others were spitting images. There was no denying it…this was Samuel’s absentee father—absent because he’d been locked away.

  As strange as it was, I knew the moment his shank pierced my gut, and it wasn’t because of the pinch. It was because I watched his pupils dilate. It felt like I stared at him forever before I collapsed to the cold floor, but it could’ve only been a few seconds. The muffled sound I had described to Davies? Yeah, that came back, making every note distant and garbled. And when I landed on my side, I couldn’t stop questioning how he’d managed to take me out with one stab to my abdomen.

 

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