These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance

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These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance Page 31

by Hathaway, Mary Jane

“That’s bull,” Tom bellowed. “You decide your fate.”

  “It has to be me. I can save someone’s life without anyone else bearing the guilt. My life is already ruined.”

  “Ruined when you murdered Mark Daniels or ruined when Henry dumped you?”

  Gideon shrugged.

  “So, is this about Henry? She’s temporarily unavailable so you might as well give up? Your life is getting complicated and not everything is under your control, so you’ll just go murder someone?”

  “It’s not about Henry.”

  “I think you’re lying.” Tom was calmer now, as if he’d found the key to convincing Gideon. “I think you let yourself open up to someone for the first time and when it hit a bump, you lost confidence. You just need to give all of this some time. ”

  No amount of time would change what had happened and as much as he didn’t want to talk about Henry, he found himself opening his mouth anyway. “She’s one of the strongest, most caring people I’ve ever met. She has a beautiful soul. But I…” His throat closed around the words. He couldn’t even begin to describe the darkness and despair he felt. “You told me I was changing and you were right. I was becoming a better man. But the best part of me was her.”

  “Maybe she sees you the same way.”

  It was laughable to even consider it. “That doesn’t explain why she won’t speak to me now.”

  Tom walked to the window and looked out. “She said some things when you were in the basement.”

  “Wait, you have some sort of magical insight into why she’s shutting me out and you never said anything?”

  “Listen, it’s just a guess. She was terrified and in shock. I don’t even think she was aware of what she was saying.”

  “I don’t understand what I did wrong,” Gideon said. He shouldn’t care. That chapter of his life was closing.

  “You acted like a hero.”

  He didn’t expect any real explanation but that didn’t any sense at all. “But everybody loves a hero, right?”

  “Not when you’re married to them. Not when you’re the one waiting for them to come home at night. It takes a really brave sort of person to love a hero, Gideon.” Tom faced him, the same look on his face he always had when he was going to tell it straight, and he knew Gideon wouldn’t like it. “I think she’s in love with you. If you’re serious about Henry, you can’t treat your life as disposable anymore. It’s different now. You acted as if your life was yours to throw away. You did when you were fifteen, and you still are.”

  Gideon wanted to say that his life wasn’t worth much, anyway, but he realized he didn’t believe that completely. Not anymore. He closed his eyes, trying to get his thoughts straight. He had nothing to offer her. He was an unemployed ex con whose life’s work was now out of his reach. “I’m so confused,” he whispered.

  Tom crouched down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Remember what you believe.”

  “I don’t know what I believe. Not now.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  He trusted Tom with his life. “Yes.”

  “Then let me help you. I didn’t last time. I let you take the fall for both of us. I was just as guilty but you were the one who went to prison.”

  As long as they’d known each other and as close as they were, Gideon had never really taken Tom’s advice. He’d always made his own decisions, charted his own course. “But I’m right. I know I am.” He sounded less than sure.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything about this for a few days.”

  Gideon blinked, images flashing through his mind. The man in the gas station, Henry, his parents, Austin, his life in Natchitoches, Barney Sandoz, his baby sister. He was so exhausted he couldn’t tell what was past and what was present, what was true or false.

  “Okay,” he said. The tickets were booked for the weekend. He would just sit tight and wait.

  Tom slumped against the chair but a moment later, he cocked his head, listening. Then he was at the door, looking out the screen. “Did you know she was coming today?”

  “Who?”

  “Henry,” Tom said. “She just pulled up in your driveway.”

  ***

  “I’ll talk first, okay?” Henry said to Blue. She tugged her ponytail tight. She felt as if she were girding herself for war.

  “Fine by me,” Blue said. He looked nervous.

  She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you. Again.”

  “Anything for a friend,” he said and flashed her a smile. “Even if it means telling your scary boyfriend that he has to let me defend him.”

  “He’s not that scary,” she said. “And we’re not actually…he’s not my… not anymore.” It hurt too much to explain so Henry simply pushed up her glasses and shrugged.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Blue grimaced. “Is it because of the murder? They’ll find out who did this, don’t worry.”

  “No, it was before.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “Boy, not lookin’ forward to going inside now. I’m glad Father Tom is here since I’m walking in with Gideon’s ex-girlfriend and a briefcase full of his secrets.”

  She opened the door and got out, refusing to let herself imagine Gideon’s reaction. He was just going to have to deal with it. She wasn’t going to let an innocent man go to prison, especially one she loved.

  Looking up at the little white farmhouse, she felt her heart squeeze in her chest. She’d never been to his home before. She wished it was under different circumstances, but then reminded herself that he was a very private person. There was a reason she hadn’t ever seen where he lived. Maybe that would have happened in time, but it was off the table now.

  She pushed up her glasses and headed for the porch. As much as she wanted to talk about what had happened between them, and as much as she needed to apologize for refusing to answer his phone calls, his legal problems came first.

  ***

  “What are they doing here?” Gideon paced the room, glancing out the door every now and then. He could see Henry and Blue talking in the car. Together. Maybe she’d gone back to him after she and Gideon had… he didn’t even know what they had been or how to describe how it ended.

  “Take a deep breath and sit down,” Tom said. “I’m sure they’ll explain when they get out.”

  As if on cue, Henry opened her door and walked toward the house, Blue following behind. Gideon took a moment to drink in the sight of her. The ponytail and glasses were back, bright lipstick in place. Her dark blue dress was fitted perfectly to her curves and the matching high heels gave her a professional air. She looked like she was attending a business meeting. This definitely wasn’t a social call.

  Seconds later she was at the door and he opened it before she could knock, waving her inside. As he and Blue shook hands, he saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes. Blue was afraid of him and Gideon allowed himself a bit of satisfaction at the thought.

  Henry perched on the couch and pushed up her glasses. The gesture was so familiar it made his chest ache. She had a folder in her hands and she fiddled with the edge for a moment, as if not knowing where to start. “I heard the board removed you from your position at the archives.”

  “I didn’t kill Barney Sandoz,” he said, trying to ignore the fact he’d just been discussing his plans to kill someone else.

  “I know.” She wasn’t looking directly at him and he wished she would. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “But it looks bad,” Blue said. “You have to admit that.”

  Gideon shot him a look. He didn’t know why he had to admit anything. “How can I help you two?”

  Henry cleared her throat. “Blue has agreed to represent you. He’s going to go with you to the police and make sure they have everything they need to clear you from the list of suspects. If they make it official, the board will have to reinstate you.”

  “I was just there.” Gideon skipped over the representation part. He wasn’t going to get a lawyer until he had to, and he certa
inly wasn’t going to team up with Blue.

  “Listen, the longer you let people believe you’re a suspect, the harder it will be to get your job back,” Blue said.

  The kid was deluded if walking into the police station with a lawyer was going to fix anything. “I don’t care what people believe.”

  “Clearly,” Blue said.

  “But think about the collection” Henry said. “You want to make sure it stays with the archives, that all your hard work isn’t lost over this.”

  “Our hard work,” he corrected. “There’s nothing that can be done to fix this situation.”

  “Blue will go with you and explain the extenuating circumstances of Mark Daniel’s murder. Revenge isn’t the same thing as a conflict over historical papers.”

  Gideon hardly heard the last part of her sentence. “Extenuating circumstances?”

  “Yes, about your family and how they died.” She seemed unsure now. “It’s not really common knowledge.”

  “That’s the way I preferred to keep it.” It seemed the whole city wanted to know what happened that night, all the horrible details. And the idea of Henry talking to Blue, her old-maybe-new boyfriend pushed a button inside and he couldn’t shake the deep feeling of betrayal. “That wasn’t your story to tell.”

  “I didn’t think it was a secret. You talked about it that night at dinner, with Bix and Ruby.”

  “They’re my friends. I don’t run around telling just anybody.”

  Her face had gone red. “I was trying to help. I didn’t realize you didn’t care whether you went back to prison or not.”

  “There are worse things,” he said. He wanted to stop himself, but he couldn’t.

  A sheen of tears appeared in her eyes but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “And I also think you should consider the fact that an old prison acquaintance might be involved. Or that man you were trying to mentor. If things ended so badly between you, he might have a motive for framing you.”

  Gideon straightened up in shock. He couldn’t have Henry saying that kind of thing around town. It was like painting a bull’s eye on her back. He thought of the man in the gas station and what he would to do someone like Henry. “Stay away from him. You have no business poking around in this. You both need to go home and let me handle it.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’re doing such a great job of handling it.” Henry was angry now. She stood up, dropping the folder to the couch. “You’ve already lost your job and as far as I know, you’re about to be charged for a murder you didn’t commit and aren’t even bothering to fight it.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “No, if anything was simple, it’s this. You’re innocent. Don’t let them put you back in prison.” Her fists were clenched at her sides.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then help me understand.”

  “I can’t,” he shouted.

  “Now, hold on. Everybody just take a step back.” Tom held up a hand to both of them.

  Everything had gone wrong so quickly. He never wanted to hurt her. Gideon turned his back on the room and tried to calm down. Three months ago he never would have lost his temper like that. The control he’d so carefully built up was slipping away, like sand through his fingers, like everything else in his life.

  Gideon wished they would all just go and leave him alone. But more than anything, he wished he could go back before the fire, when his life’s work was still intact, back when Henry was his friend and a few kisses made her forget what she was saying. But if there was one thing he’d learned in his life, it was that you could never wish yourself into the past. You could only move forward. As dark and hopeless as the path was, there was no turning back.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “But you can't make people listen. They have to come round in their own time, wondering what happened and why the world blew up around them. It can't last.”

  ― Ray Bradbury

  Henry watched Gideon’s back and blinked away tears. This was a disaster. She’d come here with the best of intentions and now Father Tom had to break up their fight like a playground monitor.

  Gideon bowed his head, looking utterly defeated. Then he turned and said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” His voice was rough, and she could see the sorrow and shame in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry I badgered you.”

  He nodded his acceptance and it took everything she had to keep from reaching out to him. He looked exhausted. His shuttered look told her more than anything he could have shouted at her. He’d lost hope. He’d lost everything. And that was a dangerous place to be.

  She looked at Blue, then at the folder she’d left on the couch. “I can’t force you to do anything. Nothing I can say will change your mind if it’s made up, but I need to say something.”

  He waited quietly but his shoulders hunched a bit more.

  “I don’t want you to do anything foolish.”

  “Like get revenge on the person who did this?”

  “No,” she said. “That’s not what I meant.” It was hard to organize her thoughts when he was looking at her like that.

  “I can understand why you’d be concerned, but I’m not going to go on a murderous rampage.” There was the hint of something in his tone that made a chill go up her spine. It wasn’t quite a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth.

  Henry pushed up her glasses and felt her hand trembling. She looked at Father Tom, then Blue. Both of them were watching her as if she could fix the situation and she couldn’t. She was only making it worse.

  She came toward him, slipped her hand into his, hoping he wouldn’t shake off her touch. He said nothing, just closed his eyes for the briefest moment.

  “I know you,” she said. It came out in a whisper. “You’re not a murderer, Gideon. But I’m so afraid you’re just going to accept what’s happening because pointing fingers might put other people in danger.”

  “You don’t know these people, how they work, the way they can get to every person you care about.”

  “If you go back to prison, it would hurt the people you care about, too.”

  His gaze shifted from her to Father Tom, and it seemed as if a conversation passed between them. “You’re saying I have an obligation to them?”

  Henry froze. His question was vague on the surface but she heard the subtext. He was asking her. He wanted to know if he owed her anything and all she had to do was tell him yes. Now was the moment she should give a speech about how much she loved him and how she couldn’t live without him, and then he would agree to let Blue help.

  Her mouth went dry. She’d never asked anyone to stay. She’d never asked to be put first. It had always been easier to walk away at the first hint of conflict. She thought of what Patsy had said, about how she viewed everything through the lens of Kimberly’s abandonment.

  “Please let us help you. I need you here,” she said and the words sounded absurdly loud in her ears.

  “Seems a lot of people want to help me today,” he said, trying to sound as if he didn’t think much of those offers, but his eyes were soft with gratitude. “I need to shower but I can meet Blue down there in an hour.”

  Henry wanted to throw her arms around him but something in his posture kept her from getting any closer. “Thank you.”

  “It’s not as simple as you imagine,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. Guilt, shame, and something else passed over his face more quickly than she could grasp. “I just don’t want anyone―”

  “To get hurt. I know. But we can’t let you sacrifice yourself, either.” Henry was surprised at how easy it was to speak now, as if that one admission of how much she needed him cleared the way for all the words she couldn’t say before. “I won’t allow it.”

  Gideon smiled down at her and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight. She’d missed his voice, his smile, everything about him.

  “You’re almost as bossy as Tom is.”

  “You haven’t seen
the half of it,” she said.

  ***

  Gideon headed for By the Book, noticing how empty the sidewalk was and figured most people were at work. It was strange to be wandering around the Historic District in the middle of the day. It had been a full week since he’d been fired from his job but it seemed like months. It had been the same amount of time, almost to the day, since he’d gone down to the station with Blue he’d offered to tell them what he knew.

  At first, Reisler had thought Gideon was turning in his accomplice, since Reggie’s fingerprints were a match to those found on Sandoz’s body. By the time they’d decided to bring Reggie in for questioning, he’d disappeared. A cloud of suspicion still hovered over Gideon, but the police were actively hunting another suspect. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough for the board to clear him to come back to work.

  The sun was warm but the breeze from the river carried the reminder that Halloween was just around the corner. And with it, Duane Banner’s release from prison.

  Against his strongest instincts, Gideon had also given a statement on what he’d learned in the little gas station on the way out of town. Reisler knew exactly who Gideon was describing. A well-known gang member named Rick LaRule had come back to town and although the police couldn’t prove it, the gangs extorted money from a group of small gas stations along that route. LaRule had disappeared like smoke but Gideon hadn’t expected him to be taken in for questioning. Men like that lived off the radar.

  Gideon stepped around a group of laughing teens and thought of how most of the city had no idea of the crime that lived under the surface, near the shadows. Reisler confirmed that LaRule had bunked with Banner for several years, so far the police hadn’t charged Banner with plotting to murder the informant. Gideon hadn’t been surprised. If it was true. Banner wouldn’t leave any evidence, before or after his crime.

  In exchange for the information, Gideon asked for round-the-clock police for Tom and Henry, but Reisler hadn’t thought it was necessary. Gideon walked out of the station feeling as if he’d taken an enormous risk and with no payback. Every night since then, he dreamed of Henry or Tom pleading for help, a shadowy figure lunging toward them, hands outstretched. He’d wake in a cold sweat and get out of bed, turn on all the lights and check the doors. It would take hours for the anxiety to fade, leaving him exhausted and irritable. He wished there was something, anything else he could do. But Tom was right. He had taken on the role of vigilante before and it had been the worst mistake of his life. He knew better now. All he could do was hope the police could prevent another death.

 

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