by Robin Caroll
“Once he had the gun on you, then what?” Danielle asked.
“I tried to reason with him. That’s when I knew he was an addict. There was no chance in that. So I did the only thing I could think of—I kept him talking. There was always the chance I could play on his emotions and get him to let us go, although very unlikely. But really, the only thing I was trying to do was buy us more time. I figured if I could wear him down enough, maybe I could tackle him, take him down.”
“Play the hero?” Brandon asked.
“Yeah. Don’t we all want to play the hero?”
“I think you succeeded in that tonight.” Danielle’s smile was genuine.
THIRTY
“I didn’t expect him to plead guilty to first-degree murder.” Brandon tucked his notebook into his pocket. “Now that you’ve completed giving your statement, I can tell you that.”
Grayson stared at Brandon. “I’m not real sure what that means.”
“It means that there won’t be a trial, you and Pam won’t have to testify, and the judge has set the date for the sentencing.” Brandon pushed his chair closer to Grayson’s hospital bed. “That means you should have no problem with filing the paperwork to enforce the partnership agreement and take full control of Game’s On You and all its assets.”
“That is a relief.” Grayson leaned back against the hospital bed’s pillows. “I have to make a couple of new hires. Any suggestions?”
“To be the other team leader?”
Grayson shook his head. “No, I’ve decided to promote Keely Masterson, Colton’s assistant, to be team captain on that side, and I promoted Pam to take over my team.”
“What are you going to do then?”
Grayson rubbed his still-bandaged arm. “Create games and work on my golf game.”
Brandon laughed. “I’ve seen you play. You need the practice.”
“At least now I’ll have an excuse.” Grayson rubbed his shoulder. “I was shot, you know.”
“Oh, you’re gonna milk that one forever, aren’t you?”
“You bet I am.” Grayson stopped smiling as he considered the word he’d just used. He swallowed. “What does that mean for Colton?”
“It means he’ll spend the rest of his life behind bars.”
“Parole?”
Brandon shook his head. “Not likely.”
On one hand, Grayson was glad that the person who took Anna Belle’s life was going to pay for the heinous crime. On the other hand, it was Colton, so Grayson was torn in his emotions. He understood the parameters of what addiction did to someone, the way it robbed the person of the ability to care about right from wrong. Colton knew what he was doing was wrong, but he’d justified every action … in his mind.
That didn’t make it right to kill an innocent person.
Grayson swallowed again. Anna Belle was by no means innocent, but that didn’t mean someone else had the right to end her life.
Complicated thoughts.
“I thought Pam would be here. We finished taking her statement before I headed over here.”
“She came by, but I sent her to the office. Someone needed to tell everyone what was going on with Colton and assure them everyone still had their jobs.”
“Yeah. That would be a fear.”
Grayson nodded. “Pam told me she and the rest of my team had been worried when I was the only suspect for killing Anna Belle.”
“Hey, you weren’t the only suspect. I never believed you capable of killing anyone, let alone Anna Belle.”
Grayson held out his fist, and they did a fist bump.
Brandon straightened. “Anyway, about hiring … You pay decent?”
Grayson laughed. “I don’t think you’re suited. You’d be bored.”
Brandon snorted. “Not me. I’m trying to think of someone. I know one of the dispatchers is looking for something with less stress. She’s had a kid and is looking for something that isn’t as emotionally draining.” He stopped grinning. “On second thought, I’ve seen how intense your planning is.”
Grayson nodded. “In all seriousness, it is pretty intensive, but it’s usually all in fun and everyone leaves together with a new, positive bond.”
“I have to say, I was surprised at how much detail and planning goes into one of those things. Every turn seemed like a big mind meld type of thing.”
“It is.” Grayson gave a little half smile. “I’ll share a little secret with you. About the time my tires were slashed, I actually wondered if I was in a game.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I mean, if I were creating a game for me, and I really wanted it to rock my reality, I’d have orchestrated it like this. Ex-wife dies in something I created. All the circumstantial evidence seems to point to me, not enough to actually arrest me, but building up that I believed I would be arrested. Learning what Anna Belle did would definitely be a trigger for me. Throw in the added stress of someone vandalizing my house and vehicle … well…”
Brandon nodded. “I see what you mean, after knowing what exactly it is your company does. That would be really messed up though, man, for your partner to have orchestrated all that against you.”
“More messed up than him killing Anna Belle for real and trying to set me up for it?” Grayson raised his eyebrows.
“Well, no. Point taken.”
A silence filled the space of the hospital room. Not awkward, just … silence.
“Speaking of…” Grayson had a thought this morning. He hadn’t mentioned it to Pam yet because he was pretty sure that he already knew her reaction. He trusted Brandon’s gut instincts. After all, his friend had been the one person on the force who had fought to prove him innocent. “I want to ask your opinion about something.”
“Sure, lay it on me.”
“I’m thinking of offering one of the positions to Laure.”
Brandon sat up straight in the chair. “Comeau? As in the woman who slit your tires and egged your house?”
Grayson nodded. Brandon’s initial reaction was exactly why he hadn’t mentioned his idea to Pam. “Hear me out. She’s very loyal and dedicated.”
“I’ll say.”
“She seems like a hard worker.”
“She’s creative, I’ll give her that.”
That’s what Grayson thought. “I think given the right outlet for that creativity, she’d be a real asset to the company.”
Brandon slowly nodded. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“Well, if I can sell you on the idea…”
“Who do you need to sell the idea to?”
Grayson widened his eyes. “Pam.”
Brandon let out a roar of laughter. “Yeah, good luck with that one, my friend.”
“Excuse me, am I interrupting?” Monique stepped into the hospital room.
“Of course not.” Grayson waved her over. “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to head back to Breaux Bridge this morning.”
“Well, once the fine New Orleans police detectives called me to tell me about Colton’s arrest and guilty plea, and about what happened to you … well, I couldn’t leave without checking in on you.”
Brandon stood and held out the chair for Monique. “I was just about to leave, Mrs. Fredericks. I’ll leave you two.” He gave Grayson another fist bump. “I promised Danielle I’d get your statement and get back so we could close the case. I think she’s ready to wash her hands of you.”
“Yeah, tell her I said hello. And I mean that sincerely.”
“I know, and I will.” Brandon nodded at Monique, who had taken the seat, then headed out of the hospital room.
“Now, tell me the truth—are you okay?” Monique asked Grayson.
“Yes, ma’am. The bullet went straight through my arm without hitting anything major. I should actually be released after the doctor makes her rounds this morning.”
“When Detective Gibbons told me that you’d been shot … Mercy, Grayson, I was so worried about you.” She reached and grabbed his hand.
He gently squeezed her hand. “I’m okay. Really.”
Her dimming eyes filled with moisture. “Well, I’m very glad. I feel like we just reconnected, and I’m not ready to lose you all over again.”
Grayson rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “You’re stuck with me.” He sat up in the bed. “Did they tell you what happened when I was shot?”
“No. Just that you were shot in the arm but were recovering in the hospital.”
Oh, she was going to love this. “Remember how you had given me Anna Belle’s Saint Jude necklace after lunch?”
Monique nodded.
“Well, I still had it in my pocket. When the bullet hit me, it hit the Saint Jude medallion. That deflected the bullet from entering my chest, where the doctor said it would’ve most likely hit my heart and killed me. Instead, it ricocheted and went through my arm.”
Monique covered her mouth with her hand and tears escaped her eyes, silently rolling down her gaunt cheeks. “Mon doux Jesus!”
He reached over to the bedside table where he’d put the necklace after he’d shown Dr. Shannon. He held it up, the indentation almost dead center on the two-inch medallion. “And if it had been more expensive, like made out of gold or silver, it might not have deflected the bullet. That it was stainless steel helped save my life.” He smiled. “The gift you gave me saved my life, Monique. Thank you.”
“It was Anna Belle’s. Even in death, her love for you shines.”
He didn’t know about that, but her necklace had for certain saved his life. He laid the necklace on the covers in his lap.
“I wanted to let you know that I’ve come to a decision,” Monique announced.
“What?”
“With the money in Anna Belle’s account and the value of her life insurance, that’s way more than I could ever need.” She stared at him. “Do you need any of it? I don’t mean to pry or get in your business. I just want you to be taken care of. Anna Belle would want that.”
He pressed his lips together to stop the grin. Monique probably didn’t realize that most all of the money in Anna Belle’s account was from the divorce settlement. “No, ma’am. Now that I have full ownership of Game’s On You, I’m good.”
“I didn’t think you needed any money, but I wanted to make sure.” She straightened. “Since it’s more money than I need and you don’t need any, I talked to a financial adviser at length about my options. After talking with him and reading all the information he provided, I decided I’m going to set up a scholarship fund in Anna Belle’s name. Specifically for girls who show a strong financial need.”
Grayson nodded. “Oh, Anna Belle would love that.” As many times as she had complained over the years about having to renew her multiple scholarships to afford to stay at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, scholarships were important to her.
Monique sat on the edge of the chair. “The adviser said that if I set up the principal not to be touched, only the interest, on this investment, we should be able to award the first scholarship in three years. One that would cover tuition and room and board.”
“I think that’s perfect, Monique. It will honor Anne Belle’s memory forever.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, because I also have to set up a foundation to oversee the administration of the scholarship, and I need at least three people to sit on the board of the foundation. Of course I will, and I’ll probably ask Laure Comeau, unless you object.”
He shook his head. “No. She knew Anna Belle very well. She should be on the foundation.” Grayson already knew what was coming next.
“And I’d like you to consider serving on the board.” She held up a hand to ward off the argument he already was forming in his mind. “Just consider it. You and Anna Belle might’ve been divorced, but you knew her best back in her college days, when she was happy and living on a scholarship. You knew the fire for life she had.”
Anna Belle always did have the burning to live life to the fullest. Right, wrong, or indifferent, she was always vibrant. Always moving toward the next thing.
“Just consider it. Pray on it before you make up your mind. That’s all I ask.”
He hesitated and then nodded. He would pray on it. He had several things he needed to pray about and would, as soon as he had more than a minute alone. “I will.”
“Thank you.” Monique stood. “I have to get back home now. So many final touches for the service tomorrow morning.” She nodded at his arm. “You’ll still be able to make it, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am. As soon as the doctor makes her rounds, I should be released.”
“Good. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Drive safe, Monique.”
She pressed a feathery kiss on his brow, then left.
For a moment, he was alone. It was quiet. Comfortable. Nice to be alone with his thoughts. Grayson grabbed the necklace, running his finger over the indentation. Had he not had this in his pocket, he most likely would have died. He wouldn’t have had it in his pocket had Anna Belle not been killed. She wouldn’t have been killed, wouldn’t even have known Colton, had he never fell in love and married her.
The wouldn’t haves and what ifs weren’t random—he’d never believed that. Everything happened for a reason. There were no coincidences. That is where his faith came in—God could take any situation, no matter how awful it seemed, and turn it around for the good. Anna Belle’s death, in a way, saved his life. That might make him feel guilty, but it also saved Pam’s. Who was he to say what God’s purpose was in all the pain and grief?
EPILOGUE
Sitting on the back pew, Grayson fixed his eyes on one of the stained glass windows. A dancing spear flickered across the sky, then the earth trembled—positives and negatives of nature colliding. St. Paul’s sanctuary rattled.
The priest chanted in Latin, swinging a canister of incense over the casket. The service drew to an end. A tidal wave of grief engulfed him. He swallowed hard, then took a deep breath, fighting the bile rising in the back of his throat. Looking around the sanctuary again, he knew many weren’t here to actually pay their last respects. Many were here just to be seen, friends of Monique’s who had learned of her bequeath. They were in for a surprise when they learned she was using almost all of the life insurance money to start the scholarship fund in Anna Belle’s name.
During the final prayer, Grayson made his way to the marble foyer and pushed open the ornately carved door. Stumbling to lean against the outside railing, he gulped fresh air, trying to clear the dizziness from his head—the tightness from his lungs. Looking back toward the church, he forced himself to breathe through his nose—taking slow, deliberate breaths. It was so hard to imagine Anna Belle lying in that deep-stained, mahogany box in the front of the sanctuary. He shook his head and took another long breath. The clean, fresh scent of rain wafted into his senses, clearing his mind.
He should’ve stayed inside the church, to be there for Monique, but there was something too personal about Anna Belle’s funeral. His pain was too raw to share the emotions with the people there, most who wanted a handout from Monique. He smiled as he considered his mother-in-law. Anyone would be hard-pressed to pull the wool over her eyes. She was one smart cookie.
Grayson walked ahead to the adjacent cemetery, where the funeral home had already set up the tent, five rows of folding chairs, and stands of flowers. The open grave sat waiting, like a big mouth ready to devour.
No, he wouldn’t allow those thoughts to hold him.
He stood behind the chairs, looking at the multiple arrangements of pink roses. They were beautiful, all ten stands, just as he’d ordered. Anna Belle would’ve loved them. There was so much left for her to love.
The tears he’d not shed for her choked him. The priest’s words had been seared upon his heart, but no more than the scar he’d carry on his chest from her Saint Jude medallion that had saved his life. He was alive because of her. Not because of what she did or didn’t do, but because of who she was, as t
he young woman he fell in love with.
Tears escaped the confines of his eyes, but he didn’t care. He was alone—out by where Anna Belle’s body would finally be at peace. He believed with all his heart that in her final frightening moments, she’d had Jesus as her Forgiver, her Comforter, her Savior.
He moved to pluck a pink rose from one of the arrangements and held it over the empty grave. As Jesus would forgive her, he needed to as well. Grayson pulled petals off the rose and let the wind drift them into the open grave. He whispered prayers and granted Anna Belle his forgiveness, not because she deserved it but because he needed to.
Grayson tossed the lonely stem into the open hole in the ground as well. Thorns with the beauty—good with the bad. He reached up and wrapped his hand around the warped and dented Saint Jude medallion he wore around his neck. He closed his eyes and pictured Anna Belle as she’d been when they’d met: young, beautiful, vivacious … alive. He opened his eyes, smiling. “Goodbye, Anna Belle. Thank you.”
In that moment, he let go of all anger, animosity, and pain.
And it let go of him.
Sweet surrender.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for journeying to New Orleans in a web of deceit and confusion with me. Sharing a place that has such connection for me was a pure joy. South Louisiana offers such a laid-back attitude that I often miss “home.” I hope you enjoyed sampling a taste of the flavor of Louisiana.
Years ago I watched the movie The Game with Michael Douglas and Sean Penn and was enthralled. There’s just something grabbing about messing with a person’s mind and life by using their own feelings and instincts against them. When this story first began forming, I wanted to use all that intrigue to mess up the game master’s life. The end result is quite the ride!
As the characters came alive to me, I found the theme of forgiveness and acceptance coming out in the story. Some of the emotions within this story are very personal to me, and I’m honored I was able to share them with you. It is my wish that you may be touched by Grayson’s faith journey as well.