To Write a Wrong

by Robin Caroll

  “Very good, Ms. Riley Baxter.” He rubbed his chin. “Now, let’s see, next there was Curtis Goins, then Allen Boyce, then Mack Thompson. That’s six.”

  “Seven.” She knew he was testing her. Pushing to see if he scared her.

  “Right. Seven. Good counting. Then Evan Coleman and Matthew Nichols. Oh, and as of this morning, Cam Thayer.” He ran a finger over his lips. “How many is that all together?”

  “Ten.”

  “Oh, this is perfect. Add that whiny brat Emily and finish with you, and that’s an even dozen.”

  “Now, about that water?”

  He laughed that callous laugh again. “You do have a one-track mind, don’t you, Riley Baxter?”

  She tried to shrug but nearly cried out when pain ripped through her shoulder. “Just thirsty. Whatever you used to drug me has left me . . . parched.” He should like her using unique vocabulary. He was just odd enough to find that intriguing.

  “I didn’t realize chloroform had such a side effect. Interesting.”

  Maybe?

  “I don’t see the harm in a little sip of water.” He walked behind her. His footsteps echoed in the empty room.

  A basement? His basement? Surely he hadn’t moved them. But where was Emily? Riley hadn’t even heard so much as a whimper.

  A tap came on. Spurted. Sprayed. Then ran.

  The water turned off. His footsteps. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

  “Here you go.” He stood in front of her, put the glass to her mouth, and gave her a drink.

  But now she knew there was a wall about seven feet behind her. Plumbing didn’t just come straight up out of the floor.

  “Thank you.” It galled her to be polite, but it would be what kept her alive. He wanted her to beg for her life. To cry. To be weak. He could kill her then.

  But being strong and polite, as if she were a guest—he didn’t know how to handle that. It wasn’t a usual response. And the unusual intrigued him.

  And if she kept at it, playing him, perhaps she could keep herself and Emily alive until Rafe and Hayden found them.

  Please, God, let them find us.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “But his sons did not follow his ways. They turned aside after dishonest gain and accepted bribes and perverted justice.”

  1 SAMUEL 8:3

  Hayden inched the car down the road Vince lived on. He’d turned off the flashing lights before they entered the neighborhood. Now they crept along, keeping their eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.

  It curdled his blood to think he’d never picked up on anything while Em dated him. If he was right—and he’d stake his life on it—this guy was a maniacal killer. He’d always thought he’d pick up on someone that evil. Vince had been good, but hopefully not too good.

  His cell rang. “Hayden Simpson.”

  “You got your warrants. Gaston is on his way to meet you at the residence. I’m en route to the shop.”

  “Thanks, Bob. Be careful. Riley and Emily are both unaccounted for and were last seen with Vince.”

  “You got it.”

  Hayden slipped the phone into silent mode and pushed it back into its clip on his belt. “Warrants came through.”

  Rafe nodded, his jaw so tight Hayden expected to hear the pop.

  Hayden parked the car two houses down and across the street. No sign of movement from anywhere. Nobody walked their dog. No one worked in their flower beds. Nothing out of the ordinary on a Tuesday afternoon in April.

  No one was aware their neighbor was a cold-blooded murderer.

  A car engine sounded.

  Hayden moved in position behind the car beside Rafe. Watching. Waiting.

  It was a cruiser. Gaston.

  Hayden waved his arms.

  Officer Gaston whipped in the driveway behind Hayden’s car. He gripped the warrants as he stepped to the curb.

  “Get on your vest,” Hayden ordered. He and Rafe had already slipped into theirs.

  Once ready, Hayden led them down the street. He kept his gaze alerted for any form of movement. They reached Vince’s house. Gaston was too new to send alone.

  “Gaston, go with Agent Baxter and cover the back.”

  Rafe shot him a look.

  Hayden lifted a single shoulder. He’d work with what he had. That was the best he could do.

  He counted to ten, giving the other two plenty of time to get into position.

  Cautiously, he rang the doorbell. He pressed against the house, weapon drawn.

  No sound came from inside.

  He rang the doorbell again.

  Vince’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway, but it could be in the garage.

  No response.

  He rang the doorbell a third and final time.

  Still nothing.

  Hayden banged on the door. “Police. Open up.” Then he pressed himself back against the house.

  Nothing.

  Again, he identified himself and banged on the door.

  Not even a curtain moved. No footsteps.

  Rafe and Gaston eased around the edge of the house.

  “Anything?” Rafe whispered.

  Hayden shook his head.

  “Maybe they aren’t here.” Rafe joined him at the front door.

  It was possible, of course, but Hayden just felt it. They were here. In the house somewhere.

  And Vince knew they were out here. For him. It was a game to him.

  Hayden adjusted his hold on his gun’s grip.

  Let the games begin.

  Riley had heard Hayden upstairs. So had Thomas. She hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t moved. Had just stared at Thomas.

  “Your knight in armor on his white horse is here.” He mocked her.

  She raised one eyebrow. “Apparently.”

  “Should I kill him before you? Or let him watch you die?”

  Her insides were liquid, but she wouldn’t let him see her pain. Her terror. Her horror. “It is what it is.”

  “You really don’t care?” His puckered brow telegraphed his confusion. “You aren’t afraid to die?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “How is that?”

  “I know where I’ll spend eternity, so I’m not afraid.” And she’d get to see her parents again. Despite missing them, she wasn’t quite ready to see them just yet.

  “That whole Christian thing. Really? I thought you were more intelligent than that.”

  “I guess not.”

  Hayden banged and called out again.

  Thomas stared at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to make the decision? Die first or watch him die?”

  She didn’t know if she could watch Hayden die. Part of her would die right along with him. Riley knew that now. Sadly, it was too late.

  Just when she found someone she wanted to love, wanted to try to make it work with, they were both going to die. It wasn’t fair.

  At least they’d be in eternity together.

  “Well, if you’re going to leave the choice to me . . .” He smiled, but his eyes were already dead. “I know. I’ll bring up his bratty little sister. He can watch her die. Then since you’ve been such a particular problem for me, I’ll let you watch him die before I kill you.”

  Again, she’d be all alone.

  No, she was never really alone. Jesus was always with her. Even during the darkest hour, He was there.

  “Fine.” He stomped up the basement stairs, obviously irritated that she didn’t respond.

  She closed her eyes. Dear Lord, if we’re all going to die, please, be merciful and let it be over quickly.

  Poor Maddie . . . she’d have more grief than she could bear. Maybe Rafe wasn’t with Hayden. The
y would have each other.

  Poor Ardy. She’d lost her husband and Hayden’s father. If she lost both Emily and Hayden . . . Oh, God, be with her when she grieves. Hold her as only You can.

  “Psst.”

  “Emily?”

  “No. I’ve already got her out of the house and in her brother’s car.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Simon. Simon Lancaster. I followed you after our meeting.”

  Oh, this was like a bad dream that kept getting worse and worse. The last person she’d get to talk to on this earth was the man who was responsible for her parents’ deaths? Something was seriously wrong with this picture.

  He appeared at her side. “I’m going to untie you.” His hands brushed against her arms as he worked on the knots. She’d always imagined his touch would be like acid, burning away her flesh.

  No flesh burning.

  Her hands were free. She pulled them in front of her, rubbing where the binding had left rope burns. Her shoulder ached.

  He bent over, working to untie her feet when shots erupted.

  Hayden! Rafe!

  Thomas flew down the stairs, holding a gun. Footsteps echoed behind him. He headed straight for Riley, a circle of blood on his left shoulder, similar to her injury.

  “He’ll watch you die this time.” Thomas lifted the gun, pointed it straight at her head.

  “No!” Hayden scrambled at the stairs, but she knew he couldn’t get a clean shot. Not at that angle. He wouldn’t risk hitting her.

  Riley closed her eyes. She was ready. Hayden was alive. He’d survive. She was okay with that.

  Pop!

  Something heavy slammed into her, then slumped against her lap.

  “No! No! No!” Thomas cried.

  She opened her eyes to see Hayden tackling Thomas to the floor. Pressing his face into the concrete and handcuffing him.

  “No, she has to die. She must die,” Thomas cried.

  But what was—?

  Simon Lancaster lay on her, his head in her lap. He stared up at her as blood spread from the wound to his gut.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She cradled his head. “Why?”

  “Because. I. Had to.” His eyes fluttered.

  “No, you didn’t. But thank you.”

  His breathing labored. Help. They needed to get help for him.

  “Rafe! Call 911. Help!”

  She brushed his bangs from his forehead and stared into his face.

  “So. Sorry. Every. Thing.”

  In that moment, she knew. God had granted her prayer. “I forgive you, Simon. I forgive you,” she whispered. “Go in peace.”

  The words she’d been terrified to say, to feel, weren’t hard at all. She’d spent so much time angry with Simon, not considering he was capable of change . . . and now, now she knew he had.

  Epilogue

  Three Weeks Later

  “I can’t even begin to tell you how terrified I was, knowing you were in the house and Vince had a gun and was going to shoot you. He told me exactly what he planned.” Hayden planted a kiss on the tip of Riley’s nose. He’d almost lost her, and he wasn’t willing to take that chance again.

  Ever.

  “But he didn’t succeed.” She smiled up at him and his heart flipped. It’d been doing that ever since she agreed to move to Hopewell. She and Emily were going to share an apartment, and her editor had told her it didn’t matter where she lived as long as she kept turning in amazing articles.

  Hayden couldn’t stop the smile that had taken up permanent residence on his face since she’d told him that she didn’t want to leave him. Didn’t want to give up on them.

  Life was good. No, God was good, and He was good all the time.

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you. Before we even got a chance to get started.”

  She pressed her finger against his lips. “Shh.” She pushed up on tiptoe and planted a firm kiss on his mouth. “It didn’t happen. It’s over. Let it go.”

  But he’d never forget the fear that had burned him like fire when Thomas aimed at her. Without Simon Lancaster . . . well, he wouldn’t be falling head over heels like he was.

  Taking his hand, Riley lifted it to her lips and planted a soft kiss in his palm. Happiness spread over his soul.

  Thank You, God. Thank You.

  Riley sat beside Hayden on the hood of his car. The May sun beat down on them, but she welcomed the warmth. For far too long, she’d been out in the emotional winter, her heart buried under feet of snow. No more.

  “Ms. Baxter, Ms. Baxter, look at me.” Mikey Wilson stuck his fingers in his ears and waggled them at his sister, who chased him up and down the stretch of road. Thanks to Simon Lancaster’s will in which he’d left his life insurance policy to the Baxters, Mikey had tubes put in his ears last week and was doing extremely well.

  “Watch out . . . Jasmine will get you.”

  Hayden leaned over and gave Riley a real kiss. One of hope. Of promise. Of the future.

  “Here he comes! Here he comes!” Peggy’s voice contained myriad emotions—excitement, anticipation, love. “Oh my. Look at him. That’s my Armand.”

  Riley slipped off the hood of the car and grabbed Jasmine and Mikey, holding them to her.

  With arms wide open, Peggy ran across the street toward Angola prison. Armand dropped his mesh bag and ran to meet her.

  Jasmine tried to move in that direction.

  Riley held her tight. “Not yet.”

  Peggy leapt into Armand’s arms. He spun her around. And around. And around. He dipped his head and kissed her.

  “Eww!” Mikey said.

  Riley laughed with tears in her eyes. She ruffled his hair. “You won’t think that’s eww one day.”

  “Double eww.”

  She laughed with Mikey. Hayden walked up behind them.

  Jasmine looked up at Riley, her eyes filled with tears too. “Thank you, Ms. Baxter. For everything. My daddy wouldn’t be free if it weren’t for you.”

  No words could push past the emotions clogging Riley’s throat. God’s justice was always just, and always right at the perfect time. She gave Jasmine a hard hug.

  “I mean it. All of this.” Jasmine waved her arm toward her parents. “All of it is because you believed me and wouldn’t give up. I want to be just like you when I grow up.” She gave Riley a quick kiss on the cheek, then grabbed Mikey’s hand and ran with him toward their parents.

  Armand let Peggy go long enough to lift both Jasmine and Mikey into his arms. They squealed, then showered his face with kisses.

  Peggy turned and met Riley’s stare. She smiled, then nodded.

  Riley nodded back before turning to Hayden. “Let’s go. Your mom promised to teach me how to make a roux.”

  Hayden wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground, and kissed her deeply. Thoroughly. Passionately. “I’m falling in love with you, I hope you know.”

  Her heart fluttered. “Good, because I don’t want to fall with anybody else but you.”

  Dear Reader,

  Sharing Riley Baxter’s story with you was so much fun for me. Thank you for coming along and participating in the Justice Seekers series and getting to know the Baxter siblings.

  The Wilson family’s struggles are very, very personal to me, as I lived through something similar. Much of Jasmine’s emotions were mirrors of my own during that season in my life. I’m grateful you’ve allowed me to share these feelings with you.

  Through the course of my research, I came across an organization whose purpose is to exonerate those wrongfully convicted, as well as reforming the justice system in order to prevent future injustices. I applaud their efforts and the strides they’re making to set innocent people free.
You can find out more about the organization by visiting their website at www.innocenceproject.org.

  Another example of someone dedicated to the freeing of innocent people I found while researching is Dallas District Attorney Craig Watkins. I commend his and his staff’s efforts. You may find out more information on him by visiting http://www.dallasda.com/Craig_Watkins.html.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed getting to know another Baxter and seeing Hayden find love. I hope you’ll read the next installment of the Justice Seekers series, experiencing Maddie’s story.

  Since many of my readers have commented on the yummy Southern dishes I mention in my books, I’ve included a few of my favorite family recipes on the pages that follow. I hope you’ll enjoy them!

  As an avid reader, I love to connect with other readers. Visit me on my website—www.robincaroll.com—and sign up for my newsletter. You can connect with me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/robincaroll or write to me snail mail: PO Box 242091, Little Rock, AR, 72223. I can’t wait to hear from you!

  Blessings,

  Robin Caroll

  Mama’s Hot Water Corn Bread

  2 cups white cornmeal mix

  1 finely chopped onion

  finely chopped jalapeño slices—to taste

  boiling water

  oil

  Put about 3/4 inch of oil in the skillet and heat till hot. Mix cornmeal, onion, and jalapeños. Add boiling water until mixture sticks together, about like mashed potatoes. Drop by the tablespoon into the grease, then mash with a spoon to flatten a bit. When brown, turn once.

  (Contributed by Robin’s mother, Joyce Shannon Bridges)

  ***

  Casey’s Chicken & Dumplings

  1 cup chopped celery

  1 cup chopped onion

  whole chicken with skin, quartered

  1/2 stick real butter

  2 cloves garlic, crushed

  2 tablespoons Worchestershire sauce

  1/4 teaspoon Tabasco

  2 cans of ready-to-bake biscuits

  Sauté onions, garlic, and celery in the butter until onions are translucent. Add quartered chicken and sear. Add approximately 5 cups of water and bring to a boil. Keep at boiling for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Remove chicken and debone, then remove the skin. Return chicken to water/celery/onion mixture. Add Worchestershire sauce and Tabasco. Simmer 35 minutes. Slowly and gradually drop in biscuits—each quartered. Simmer 20 minutes.