“No, Kathy! No!”
Grabbing his own cell from the coffee table, Kip called his wife. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again with the same results.
“Sonofabitch!”
Racing to the kitchen table, he grabbed his keys. He considered snatching a butcher knife from the drawer until he remembered the baseball bat by the front door. The Louisville slugger felt good in his hands. Satisfied he had the right weapon, he went outside, locking the door behind him.
In a panic, he stumbled and almost fell on the slick, thin layer of snow coating the driveway.
After starting the truck, he typed in the address into his cell’s GPS. Once finished, he called Kathy.
“Hey, it’s Kathy. You know the drill so do it!”
“Fuck! Why aren’t you answering? God, please, make her pick up! Good God, what are you up to Kathy? Why does it seem to include me?”
Throwing the truck into reverse, Kip sped out of the neighborhood, listening to the droning, robotic voice from his phone direct him to his destination.
STEPPING OUT OF the shower, Sam toweled off, stopping her hand from grabbing the lotion. “No traces, remember? Just some pit lube to hide the smell of my perspiration since I’ll be sweating like a whore in church.”
With precision and care, she dressed in the same outfit she had on the night she and Bradford snuck in to Richard’s house. Wee Thing watched from his perch on the counter.
Wiping the condensation from the mirror, Sam studied the reflection staring back. For someone about to commit cold, premediated murder, she expected to see a new harshness to her features, or perhaps eyes reflecting the murderous plans inside her mind.
“Nothing different. Not one thing. How is that possible?”
A rush of regret and fear made her cheeks flush. She jumped when the cell buzzed on the counter.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yes, sis.”
“My gut tells me different.”
Sam chuckled. “Damn twin bond. You guys all settled in? How are the kids? Reed? Mom?”
“The kids are in hog heaven. They’re swimming in the indoor pool with Reed, Mom, Bradford and his family. Resa and Kendal are on their way. They got stuck in traffic. I wish you were here, Sam. Eureka Springs is magical during the winter when coated in white.”
“I bet.”
“I came back to the room to call you. I’m worried.”
“Don’t be. After tonight, we’ll never have to worry again.”
“I hope so.”
Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes so she changed the subject. “My stuff’s all packed and ready for the surprise nuptials tomorrow. How were the roads?”
“Like Big Sam used to say, slick as snot. Be careful on your way up here.”
“I will. Promise.”
Suzy’s voice cracked. “Be careful tonight Sam. You shouldn’t be doing this alone! My stomach’s in knots…”
“Don’t, Suzy. I told you on Sunday night I would handle what needs to be done. Alone. If things go sour, it’s all on me. Though I appreciate more than I can ever express everyone’s willingness to help me, I can’t, I won’t, let any of you deal with this garbage. It’s my trash to take out. Period.”
“We all disagree but we know trying to stop you would be a waste of time. You’re a bull, just like Big Sam, when your mind’s made up.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good, because I meant it as one. God, Sam, I’m so sorry. All this mess is my fault and I’m not even there helping you. I’m the wuss. You must have sucked up all the strong genes in utero.”
“Suzanne, will you please stop? All my brain cells are currently focused on what I’m about to do, therefore, I don’t have any left to discuss the stupidity of your statement.”
“You’re right, sis. As always. You’ll be happy to know I decided once this is over, I’m telling Reed. Everything. After all this, I realized keeping secrets only leads to heartache.”
“Are you prepared to handle things if he doesn’t react the way you envision?”
“I think so, yes. I don’t want to live on the edge the rest of my life, worrying about someone else spilling the beans.”
“I’m proud of you, sis. Really. Listen, I need to finish some things and take a short nap before heading out. Remind everyone I’m leaving my phone at home. I’ll call as soon as it’s over. I promise.”
“I will. Hey, Sam?”
“I love you too, Suzanne. Give everyone a hug and kiss for me, oh, and…”
“Say our prayers, yes, I know. Love you.”
Ending the call before being overcome with emotion, Sam busied herself by stuffing her hair inside the black skullcap. Once finished she set the alarm on her phone for midnight then went downstairs, checking the locks on the front and back doors.
Satisfied she was secure, she headed back upstairs to her room, Wee Thing right on her heels. At the foot of her bed, she stared at the inviting comforter, hoping to be able to fall asleep, at least for a few hours, so her frazzled mind would rejuvenate.
Curling into a ball on top of the bed, Wee Thing fidgeted until his warm body fit right in the crook of her neck.
Between the kitten’s soft purrs and the comfortable mattress, and despite her racing mind, she crossed the divide into deep, heavy sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tuesday, December 6, 2016
RACING UP THE long, steep driveway, nerves wound tight, Kip’s heart skipped two beats when he topped the rise. The robotic voice announced, “You have arrived at your destination.” Seeing Kathy’s car by the front door, he parked behind it then he shut off the engine. The upstairs was dark, but it looked like all the lights in the lower level were on. He grabbed the bat from the passenger seat. On a whim, he dialed Kathy’s number again.
It went straight to voicemail.
“If you hurt her, you sorry sonofabitch, I’ll bash your freaking skull in.”
Pausing at the front door, trying to decide if he should knock or burst inside, Kip’s steamy breath hovered around him like a cloud.
A muffled thump made the decision for him.
Grabbing the doorknob, he twisted, surprised it turned with ease. Storming inside, bat held in perfect position over his right shoulder like his father taught him years ago when in little league, he yelled, “Kathy! Where are you?”
Silence.
Dead, silence.
Following the hallway toward what he assumed would be the living room, ears straining for any sound, he caught a whiff of something he couldn’t quite place.
Stepping as quietly as possible, he made his way down the hall, only feet away from a doorway on the right.
The smell grew stronger. Though faint, he heard a strange hissing noise.
Before reaching the doorjamb, he called out, “Kathy?”
A soft, barely audible moan to his right reached his ears, sending shockwaves of fear throughout his entire body.
Inching closer to the door, craning his neck, he peeked inside the bright room.
What he saw made his knees tremble.
He tried to process everything in front of him as his gaze swept the room. Glass littered the tan-colored tile floor. All the pictures on the walls hung at odd angles. Two chairs in front of a massive wooden desk were overturned. A third black leather monstrosity with several, small holes and a large back was behind the desk. A briefcase crammed with cash sat in the middle of the floor. A few bills looked as though someone had tossed them into the air and they fluttered to the floor like confetti.
Screaming Kathy’s name over and over, he ran into the room, overwhelmed by all the blood dripping from the walls. Kathy’s body rested in a pool of red, face-down and unmoving, wedged between the two chairs, a handgun inches from her clenched fingers.
“Oh, my God!”
He ran to his wife’s side, sobbing like a small child. Grabbing her limp body, he turned her over. Jerking his head to the left, vomited after looking at
the bloody mess were her face had been.
“You bastard!”
Scrambling to his feet, he lost his footing in all the wet blood. It took several attempts to stand.
“You killed her! Come on, you fucker. Come face me like a man!”
Heart racing and mind in the throes of hysteria, Kip spun around, looking for any signs of Richard. Noticing what looked like the outline of an arm in the chair on the other side of the desk, retrieved the gun from the floor.
He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Realizing it was empty, Kip picked up the bat. He lunged, swinging with all his might.
The blow landed on the intended target. The sound of the wood crushing bone made a weird, demented cackle burst from his mouth. He raised the bat again when the chair spun around. “Take that you…oh, my God!”
The smell and hissing sound finally clicked inside his brain. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed the fireplace.
Natural gas.
“Fuck this!” Kip dropped the bat.
Vision blurring from rage and fear, he ran back to Kathy’s body, scooping it up from the sticky floor. Hefting her over his shoulder, he ran toward the front door, tears running down his face from grief and the stench of rotten eggs in the air.
The door was steps away. Latching onto the knob he opened it. A weird whooshing noise reached his ears, yet his mind never had the chance to register the source. His body flew forward as searing heat caused him to scream in agony.
JERKING AWAKE AT the sound of her own screams, Sam shot up from the bed, sending Wee Thing crashing to the floor. “Damn! Sorry buddy! Good grief what a nightmare!”
Nerves on edge, hands shaking and heart thumping from the vivid dreams of running through the tunnels underneath Hot Springs as a growling, faceless beast gave chase, Sam snatched the Glock from the nightstand. The weight of the weapon helped calm her down.
Wee Thing meowed once then shot out of the room. Sam heard his paws clomp down the stairs.
It was dark except for the bedside lamp. She picked up the cell, checking the time. “Only ten. Well, at least I got some rest.”
Wee Thing’s demanding meow from below meant he was hungry. “Okay. Okay. Bad mommy, I know. Let me pee first. Tonight, the steps are simple: Feed cat, get gas then remove the thorn from my side. Check!”
Once finished in the bathroom, Sam slid the phone into her back pocket before heading downstairs to fill Wee Thing’s bowl with crunchies. Passing the front door, she noticed something move on the porch, illuminated from the streetlight.
Her cell vibrated as it transmitted the incoming video.
Her stomach jerked.
On instinct, her hand went for the Glock.
The silhouette of a man moving with slow, hesitant footsteps drew closer.
Planting her feet, she raised the gun, gaze never leaving the torso as an arm raised then knocked on the door. “Ms. Chapman?”
Blinking twice, Sam realized the person on the other side of the door was too short and not as bulky to be Richard. With one, swift motion, she flicked on the porch light from the wall to her right.
Her mouth dropped open. “Judge Hornsby?”
“I’m sorry if I startled you. I know it’s late, but may I come in?”
Recalling Bradford’s warnings about situational awareness and being on guard, Sam didn’t move toward the door. She couldn’t concoct any fathomable reason why the old judge was on her porch.
“I’m coming down with the flu, I believe, and don’t want to pass along my germs. Perhaps another time, your honor?”
“Please, Ms. Chapman. Bradford told me about you—what a good woman you are. I need someone to talk to who will understand what I’m going through. How odd it turns out to be a virtual stranger isn’t it?”
Sam heard the hitch in the old man’s voice. Edging closer to the door, she peered out the glass, gaze roaming over every inch of his body to see if he was armed. “I heard about your wife today, your honor. I’m sorry for your loss, but as I said, I’m contagious. Perhaps the person best suited to discuss your grief with is your son?”
Hanging his head, Judge Hornsby stared at the ground. “One refuses to speak to me other than informing me of the accident. The other doesn’t know who I am, and even if he did, he’s is a coma and unable to hear me.”
Sam’s instincts spiked. “Accident? Sons? I thought…?”
“Yes, sons. I’m Kip Hale’s father. He’s in a coma and his wife’s dead. Please, I wanted to call Bradford but I misplaced my phone. I went by his house and your mother’s, but no one’s home.”
The news knocked the wind from Sam’s lungs.
“Forgive me for what I’m about to ask because it will sound insensitive, but I have to know. What makes you think Kip’s your son?”
“Bradford brought the DNA results to my house on Saturday.”
Legs shaking as though made of jelly, Sam holstered the Glock then unlocked the door. Once the judge shuffled inside, she closed it behind him.
The fear and angst from before disappeared as she stared into his watery blue eyes. Immense sorrow and pain shone across his wrinkled face. “You said Kip’s in a coma and his wife’s dead?”
“Yes.” Judge Hornsby wiped a stream of tears from his cold cheeks. “They were at a house in Chenal when it blew up. Gas leak, according to my son, Gregory. Kip suffered third degree burns over 60% of his body.”
Vision blurring, Sam grabbed the edge of the reception desk. “Did you say Chenal?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I believe you know the answer already, Ms. Chapman.”
Sam’s phone buzzed in rapid succession. Looking down, she saw several incoming texts.
Then her mother called.
“Mom?”
“Oh, God, baby. You’re okay! When I saw the news, I flipped! Where are you? Please tell me you’re at home?”
“I am.”
“It’s over! It’s finally over! You did it!”
Blood whooshed in Sam’s ears. “Is he…?”
“Yes! It’s on the news. Turn on the TV to Channel 7.”
“Hang on.” Sam ran to the conference room and turned on the television, flicking over to the local news. The aerial shot of the smoldering home and a sea of red and blue lights made her head spin. “He’s…gone?”
“Yes. The reporter confirmed burned remains of a male were found inside the den. He’s dead, baby. He’s dead.”
“But I didn’t…”
Sam tried to hold it together—to fight off the darkness swirling behind her eyes. She was overwhelmed by the news, heart aching for poor Grayson, and the real possibility the long-sought after yearnings for the nightmare with Richard to be over.
“Ms. Chapman? Are you okay?” Judge Hornsby asked.
“I…”
He tried to catch her body before her knees slammed into the floor yet couldn’t move fast enough. All the color drained from Sam’s cheeks as she stared without expression at the television.
The sound of a woman screaming from the phone made his hands shake. He picked up the cell. “Charmaine? It’s Judge Hornsby. Your daughter’s fine. I believe she’s a tad overwhelmed by the news. Guess it was too much for her to handle. Is Bradford with you? I need to speak with him.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Talk later. Help my child!”
Pushing herself up from the floor, Sam motioned to the judge to give her the phone. “I’m okay, Mom. Just shocked.”
Charmaine’s voice was thick with tears. “The roads are closed…we can’t leave…”
Taking a few deep breaths to clear her head, Sam replied, “Please stop worrying, Mom. Like you said, it’s over now. Let me find out all the details and I promise, I’ll call you back.”
“I love you, baby girl.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Disconnecting the call, Sam took a final glance at the screen, marveling at the crazy turn of events. Looking
over at the judge, she noticed the man looked like he was close to passing out as well. “Come have a seat in here then let’s talk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
“NOW YOU KNOW how I found out Kip was in the hospital. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the waiting room after Clara passed hours earlier. Gregory was there, but we didn’t really talk. He left minutes after Clara died. I…I was consumed by grief from losing my wife. The thought of walking away, leaving her all alone…would make the nightmare of her passing real. Later, when Gregory called to inform me about the accident, I felt, oh, I don’t know what I felt.”
Reaching out, Sam clasped the judge’s frail hand. It was warm, smooth, and trembling. “I’m so sorry, your honor.”
Retrieving a hanky from his pocket, Judge Hornsby wiped his face. “Please, call me Nathanial.”
“Only if you call me Sam. Agreed?”
“Of course. Airing dirty laundry makes the formalities rather pointless.”
Sam nodded while thinking back over everything the judge said earlier. “Gregory knew about Kip?”
“Yes, well, not until the night Clara had a stroke. She could tell something was bothering me and kept pestering me to share. The truth was bound to come out, so I told her about the DNA test results, thinking it would soften the blow to hear the news from me rather than the press or a stranger. I was wrong.”
“Again, I’m sorry.”
Wiping a tear from his chin, Nathanial produced a feeble smile. “I don’t trust the medical facilities here in Hot Springs, so I had the ambulance take Clara to Baptist in Little Rock. I called Gregory. When he arrived at the hospital, he grilled me about what happened. I told him the truth for once in my life. It didn’t go over well with Clara or Gregory. At all.”
“May I be frank?”
“By all means.”
“I don’t understand. If you just told them both, what put a strain on your relationship with Gregory years ago?”
“Maria.”
Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“I was a poor, struggling attorney for a long time. Things perked up when I was elected prosecutor. I was in my second term when I began the affair with Maria. Gregory was a teenager. Maria came to my office one day, obviously pregnant, insisting I pay for an abortion. I panicked and gave her the money. When my wife questioned why our bank account was low, I told her. I thought Gregory was at baseball practice. I didn’t learn until years later he was upstairs, listening to our intense and loud argument. Our relationship disintegrated after that night. I assumed it was due to teenage hormones because Clara swore she didn’t share my ‘shameful secret’ with our son. Years later, after my disastrous choice to seek payback on Maria, I found out.”
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