The Demise

by Diane Moody

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do not play games with me. I’m in no mood for—”

  “I’m not playing games, Mr. Smithe. Did I hear what?”

  He raced a hand over his head then folded his arms across his chest. “The phone. It was on speaker. You must have heard.” He cocked his head to one side, pinning her with wide-eyed expectation. “Tell me. What. You heard.”

  “Mr. Smithe, I was in the restroom. Remember?”

  “When did you leave your desk?”

  “After Agent Bryson went to your office, I had to—I needed to go. Okay? Normally I wait until my break, but I drank too much coffee this morning and, well, you know what they say.”

  “No, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Are you telling me you removed your headset and went to the restroom when Bryson barged into my office?”

  “Yes, I removed my headset. And yes, I went to the restroom after Agent Bryson barged into your office.” Though not necessarily in that order.

  He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, as she offered a studied face of innocence.

  “Is there anything else? Because I really should get back to my desk.”

  He straightened, dismissed her with a wave, and headed back to his chair. She had just opened the door when he called out her name.

  “Yes?”

  His eyes never looked in her direction as he shuffled papers on his desk. “I’m watching you. Don’t ever forget that.”

  She said nothing, simply walked out the door and back to her desk. She compressed the smile trying to spread across her face.

  Score another one for Miss Marple.

  Chapter 22

  Julie grabbed her backpack and climbed out of her car. She hadn’t seen his car, but spotted Brad on the farthest tennis court bouncing balls with his racket. She assumed he’d either walked or parked in the other lot just beyond that court. She jogged across the open park to join him.

  “Sorry I’m late, Brad. My mother called when I got home from work and wouldn’t let me go. She and Dad are in New York for a conference, and she wanted to—”

  “No problem. Here’s your racket.”

  So much for small talk.

  “Okay, then.” As she took the racket from him, she darted a quick peek at his shoes.

  Nikes. Rats.

  Julie kicked herself for coming up with such a lame idea in the first place. With everything else going on, were the shoe prints even an issue anymore?

  Great. Now I’m stuck here.

  She plastered a smile on her face to mask her disappointment. “Oh, here’s some chilled water for you. I didn’t know if you’d bring one, so I grabbed an extra bottle.”

  “Cool.”

  “This heat is almost unbearable, isn’t it?” Julie looped a white towel around her neck and dabbed her forehead and chin with it. She moved her bag to the back edge of the court then dropped the towel on top of it and gave him her full attention. “Okay, what’s first?”

  “Let’s bounce some balls off the back wall so I can show you the different strokes you’ll need to learn.”

  She followed him, twirling the racket in her hands. “You’ve never told me about your mom, Brad. She wasn’t at the funeral, was she?”

  “Why do you want to know?

  “I’m just making conversation. Does she live around here?”

  “No.”

  “So . . . ?”

  “So?”

  Julie huffed. “Look, I’m just trying to make polite conversation. I mean, your mom’s brother just died. I was just wondering how she was doing since she heard the news. That’s all.”

  “Look, she’s dead, okay? She died years ago. So do you want a lesson or what?”

  “Oh, Brad. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “Just drop it, okay? Now, hold your racket like this, see?”

  For the next ten minutes, Julie tried to act interested as he demonstrated how to hit the ball from different angles, but she grew weary of his silly smile and lovesick puppy eyes. Next, they moved toward the net where he explained the rules of the game. She didn’t hear a word.

  “Hey, can we take a break? I need to check my cell phone.”

  He dropped his arms, letting a ball fall from his hand. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, why?”

  “We’ve been out here less than twenty minutes, and you’re telling me you’ve already got to check your phone? Do you want to learn the game or not?”

  “Well, you don’t have to get all huffy about it.”

  “I’m not huffy. I’m trying to teach you how to play the game—a game you asked me to teach you. Either you give me your undivided attention or you find someone else.”

  As if on cue, the second he finished his mini-tirade, her cell rang. “Look, just give me a minute. I’m expecting a call from—”

  “Save it for someone who cares.” He yanked the racket from her hands. “I’m outta here.”

  “Suit yourself.” She hustled over to her bag and grabbed her phone, thrilled to see Matt’s number on the screen. I owe you one, Agent Bryson. As she answered, she watched Brad stuff the balls and rackets into his bag, then stomp off the court in the other direction.

  “Hi, Matt.”

  “Hi, Julie. Got a minute?” She noticed his tone had thawed considerably since earlier that morning.

  “I do now. What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you. Any chance you could meet me somewhere this evening?”

  “Sure. Just tell me where and when.”

  “I’ve got a couple of errands to run first, but I could probably meet you in an hour or so. How about that barbecue place out near the interstate?”

  “You mean Sparky’s?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Works for me. I’ll see you in about an hour.”

  “Good. Thanks.”

  Julie wondered what could be so urgent that Matt would drop his guard again this soon. That morning, he hadn’t been reserved or distant; he’d been downright frosty. Granted, she’d jumped ahead of him again in the investigation—from his perspective—meaning she had no one to blame but herself. Now she wished they’d met under different circumstances. What might have been, had they met without all the relentless drama swirling around the investigation?

  That’s just it. We wouldn’t have met if Peter hadn’t died under suspicious circumstances. Chances are Matt would never have stepped foot in Braxton. Still, she longed for the simplicity of boy-meets-girl, girl-falls-for-boy, boy-and-girl live happily ever after.

  Back at home, she took a long, soothing shower before getting dressed again. She slipped on a sleeveless white blouse and her favorite pair of jeans, applied minimal make-up, then padded into the kitchen to find some ibuprofen. A dull headache seemed to be snaking around the back of her skull.

  “Hey, sis.”

  She looked up as her brother ambled in from his bedroom. “Hey, Gev. I didn’t know you were home. How was your day?”

  “Good. Booked three more weddings today. Big ones.”

  “Good for you! Pretty soon you’ll be booked up years in advance, and everyone will be fighting to get on your waiting list.”

  “‘Now, there you go again,’” he teased, channeling Ronald Reagan. “I prefer to keep my feet on the ground. I’ll let you be the one to hang up there in the clouds with all your lofty dreams.”

  She gave him a big grin. “Don’t knock it til you try it. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “You going somewhere? By now you’re usually in your PJs.”

  Julie took the pain reliever with a glass of water, then returned the bottle to the cabinet shelf. “I’m meeting Matt at Sparky’s in a little while. He said he needed to talk to me. Wanna come?”

  “Mmm, tempting . . . but I can’t. I’ve got a ton of work to do in the studio tonight. Did he say what he wanted to talk about?”

  “No, but he’s been really hot and cold toward me the last few days.”

  “Don�
�t you mean ever since you met him? I’ve never seen two people on such a roller coaster this early in their relationship.”

  “I’m not so sure there is a relationship, to be honest.”

  “Well, try to behave yourself, okay? Let the man do his job.”

  She glared at him as she finished her glass of water. “What is it with guys? It’s like you’re all in some kind of secret fraternity with a litmus test for love.”

  “No litmus test. Just extreme caution where romance is concerned.” He tugged on her ponytail on his way to the door. “See you later. Have fun.”

  “Yeah, right. If I’m missing any limbs when I get back, it’ll be because he chewed me out—again.”

  “Later, sis.”

  “Later, bro.”

  Julie’s mind was spinning as she drove the winding, hilly road out of town toward Sparky’s. With the glare of the late-afternoon sun directly ahead, her sunglasses did little to shield her eyes from the harsh rays. The bands of pain circling her head seemed to tighten with every blink. She wished now she’d asked Matt to come to the loft instead. Hopefully the headache would subside once she was inside the restaurant and out of the glare.

  She reminded herself to be open-minded as she listened to whatever was on Matt’s mind, and above all, not to be defensive. There had to be a way to chip a few of those bricks out of the rising wall he’d built again. Then another thought crossed her mind, sending a wave of adrenaline through her. Maybe he’s had a break in the case! Maybe he wants to share it with me before they make an arrest or hold a press conference. Or—maybe something I had a part in helped solve the case and he wants to thank me! She pressed her foot on the gas pedal, anxious to find out.

  Blinded again as she crested a hill, she raised a hand to block the glare only to find an oncoming semi over the line and heading straight for her! Her heart caught as she swerved just in time. The angry crunch of gravel beneath her wheels echoed her fear as she swerved onto the shoulder, struggling to keep control. She righted the steering wheel to move back into her lane, but as she pumped the brakes to slow down, nothing happened. “Slow down! Slow down!” she cried, stomping on them with both feet as her car flew faster down the steep decline. Still nothing.

  “Oh God, please help me! Help me!”

  Just ahead, the road took a sharp turn to the left. She’d traveled this road all her life and knew if she couldn’t slow down, she’d never make the curve; beyond it, a steep embankment down to the Harpeth River.

  “Oh Jesus! SAVE ME!”

  As the car left the road, Julie could hear only the wild roar of the engine as the car went airborne. Her arms were locked, her hands gripping the wheel until the last moment when she crossed her arms over her face and screamed. The impact of the car hitting the sloping riverbank jolted her hard as the air bag snapped her head back against the headrest.

  Seconds later, she felt the car floating, well aware it would start sinking any moment. She was cognizant of the danger and knew she had to get out fast. But even as the thought crackled through her mind, she felt helpless against the tug of a black abyss.

  Chapter 23

  “Julie? MISS PARKER? Can you hear me? We’re trying to get you out of the car.”

  Matt stood by helplessly in knee-deep water as the first responders tried to open the driver’s side door of Julie’s car. He’d already been warned twice to stay out of the way, but he wanted nothing more than to shove them out of the way and get to her himself. He bit a knuckle on his fisted hand, fighting the panic.

  Whatever caused Julie’s car to end up in the river, he was thankful it was a fairly shallow stretch of the Harpeth River which wound its way through several different counties in the Nashville area. Even so, the Altima was at least two-thirds submerged; its rear-end sticking out of the water, its front hood and windshield beneath water.

  “She’s not responding!” one yelled to the others, “and the doors are locked. Hand me the punch!”

  In mere seconds, he used the spring-loaded punch against the top right corner of the driver’s window. The glass shattered immediately, and the murky river water rushed in. Wearing heavy gloves, he quickly reached down and unsnapped her seatbelt.

  “Julie? Can you hear me?” he said calmly though his voice was raised. “We’re going to lift you out now, okay?”

  Still nothing.

  He nodded toward the fireman beside him. “I’ll lift her legs; you guide her shoulders out. On three—one, two, three.”

  They moved swiftly as they pulled her from the car then carefully made their way to the bank where two others had brought down an elongated basket-style carrier from the ambulance up on the road. Others gathered around, blocking Matt’s view, so he waded closer to shore hoping to reach her when they placed her in the carrier. Chief Carter helped Matt step up onto the narrow edge of the muddy riverbed.

  “I’m going with her in the ambulance.”

  “That’s fine. No problem. I’ve diverted traffic so we can seal off the area until we know what happened. I’ve got my deputies questioning the folks who saw it happen, and a few others who arrived shortly afterward. I’ll let you know what we find out.”

  Matt nodded, unable to speak.

  Jeff patted Matt on his back. “We’ll find out what happened. You have my word. I’ll head over to the hospital once I know everything’s covered on this end.”

  Matt rushed to Julie’s side as they loaded her onto the carrier. Her face was pasty white, her eyes closed, her hair dripping. He reached for her hand but missed as the EMTs hustled the carrier up the incline then slid her into the back of the ambulance.

  He followed right behind them. “I’m going with her. I’m Matt Bryson, TBI.”

  One of the paramedics planted his hand firmly against Matt’s chest. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to follow in your own car. They need to work on her, and there’s no room for you.”

  And just that fast, he shut the doors, rounded the ambulance and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  Matt felt a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay to drive?” Jeff asked, his face filled with compassion.

  The wail of the siren drowned out their conversation. Matt dug in his pocket for his keys, and shouted, “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Then I’ll see you later at the hospital.” Jeff patted his shoulder as he walked away.

  Matt hurried to his car parked behind several others along the narrow strip of grass beside the road.

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  He turned, surprised to see Christopher Smithe about to climb in his convertible. The VP, dressed in khakis and a golf shirt, stared at him over the top of his sunglasses.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was on my way out to the club to play a few holes when I saw all these cars pulling over, some of them blocking the road, as you can see. I wanted to see if I could help.”

  “Is that so.” Matt made no effort to hide his cynicism as he approached Smithe.

  “Yes, that’s so,” he snarked. “I didn’t know it was Julie until one of the others who stopped recognized her car.”

  “And by the look of your pristine clothes, I can see you didn’t bother to rush into the water to help her, did you?”

  “Others were already in the water. For your information, I was the one who called 911.”

  Matt stepped closer, towering over him. “Well, good for you, Mr. Smithe. I’m sure they’ll hail you as a hometown hero. If she lives.”

  Smithe said nothing, just shook his head, turned, and got in his car.

  Matt raced to his Jeep and hopped in, his drenched slacks and muddy shoes making a mess on his floor mat. Muddy shoes . . . He turned the key in the ignition, his eyes still glued to his shoes. Only then did he realize his glimpse of Christopher Smithe’s pristine appearance included a quick glance at his shoes.

  Spotless white athletic shoes.

  Reeboks.

  Julie heard voices around her. Sounds she couldn’t place. Machi
nes beeping. Muffled footsteps coming and going. And pungent smells. Lots of pungent smells. She tried to remember where she was; a little freaked when she couldn’t remember. Anything. A simmering panic shot adrenaline through her veins. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t respond. Even closed, she could tell the room—or whatever it was—was bright. Extremely bright. She tried again, pushing with all her might to make them open.

  And when they did, she shut them tight as fast as she could. She heard a voice cry out and realized it was hers.

  “Julie? Can you hear me?” a voice near her asked. A trace of cologne, the kind her mother often wore? Or not. Hard to tell with all the other harsh odors around her.

  “Julie, I’m Dr. Roberts.” She felt a warm hand on her wrist. “I’d like you to wake up for a few minutes and talk to me, then we’ll let you rest again. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  She nodded and tried to swallow, but it hurt too much. “Where am I?” she whispered.

  “You’re in the emergency room at St. Thomas Hospital. Do you remember what happened to you?”

  She could hear the accelerating rhythm of a machine. Beep beep beep. “No.”

  “Here’s a sip of water,” a nurse on the other side said. “Just a little, okay?”

  The cool water felt good against her scratchy throat. Another couple of sips, then she lay her head back on the pillow.

  “You don’t remember anything at all?”

  Julie closed her eyes and tried to think. “I remember driving somewhere . . . the sun was so bright . . .” She tried to swallow when the grill of a semi flashed like a blinding lightbulb through her mind. “A truck!” Her eyes flew open. “A truck was coming at me . . .”

  “A truck ran you off the road?”

  She nodded then wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know. I tried to get out of the way, but . . .”

  No one said anything at first. Different staff members moved in and out of her range of view. A blanket of gratefulness warmed her. She was being cared for. That was good, right? But where was . . . the image of someone formed in her mind, silhouetted in a bright cloud of light. She couldn’t tell who it was; she just knew she needed him. Or her?