Submerged

by Cheryl Kaye Tardif

  Marcus's gaze swept across the faces in the crowd. What had Wesley Kingston done to warrant such attention and approval?

  A silver-haired man in an expensive suit stood a few feet away from the happy couple. His expression wasn't one of admiration but of contempt. One of Wesley's debtors? The guy looked vaguely familiar.

  Marcus peeled back the clear cover and pried the photo from the page.

  On the back, someone had written, "Summer party at Kingston, Bentley and Coombs. Gave Wesley's dad the news about Ella."

  Ah-ha! Walter Eugene Kingston, the famed corporate lawyer.

  That's who the older fellow was. Wesley's father. The man had his hand in all things mega-corporate. From the look on his face in the photo, he wasn't happy about something.

  If looks could kill…

  Could it be that Daddy Kingston wanted Rebecca out of the picture for some reason? If so, what would be in it for him?

  He slipped the photo into his pocket. He'd give it to John later.

  His phone rang. When he answered it, he said, "Your ears burning, John?"

  "I hope you're saying good things about me," Zur said.

  "Thinking them actually. So what's up?"

  "We found the truck and the driver."

  Marcus's heart raced. "You've got him in custody?"

  "Not yet." Zur cleared his throat. "Guy's name is Rufus Delaney. Lots of priors and three outstanding warrants. Robbery, attempted rape and second-degree murder. Not the kind of guy you'd want your daughter dating."

  "Or anyone else I knew."

  "A patrol car brought in one of his known associates on another charge about five minutes ago. Guy cut a deal and gave up Delaney. Puts him at the Rosedale Hotel in downtown Edmonton. Edmonton Police are searching his room now. We've sent photos out to everyone at the hospital. Delaney won't get within two feet of Rebecca's room. I'll let you know when we find him. And if we figure out who hired him. Whoever did probably knows what Delaney is capable of."

  Rape and murder. That could have been Rebecca's future.

  Thank God Delaney had decided to run her off the road instead.

  Marcus went downstairs to the kitchen and found a plastic bag. Stuffing the clothing into it, he left the house, waved at the officer outside and hurried to his car. With Delaney on the loose, Marcus wanted nothing more than to be back at the hospital. He stepped on the gas pedal and sped off, praying he wouldn't get pulled over for speeding.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Hinton, AB – Saturday, June 15, 2013 – 5:19 PM

  When Kelly arrived at the hospital, Rebecca broke down in huge gulping sobs. "I can't believe you're here. I'm so glad to see you."

  "Can I hug you?" her sister asked, tears leaking from her eyes.

  "You'd better."

  Kelly wrapped her arms around her, ever so gently. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

  "You won't. I'm stronger than I look."

  Kelly arched a brow.

  "That's what everyone keeps telling me," Rebecca explained. "That I'm stronger than I look."

  "And here you are, crying like a big wussy baby."

  "Yup. That's me."

  Kelly's smile faded. "Seriously, Rebecca, you almost died. You and the kids."

  "But we're all safe now."

  "Thanks to that 911 operator."

  Rebecca grinned. "Marcus was pretty fantabulous."

  Kelly studied her face as if looking for some sign of insanity. "So what is this guy—sixty-five and bald?"

  Rebecca gave her a wry look. "Uh, no."

  "So he's seventy and bald?"

  "I doubt he's much older than me. And he's not bald."

  "You kinda like him," Kelly said in a singsong voice. "You think he's sexy."

  "Oh, stop it."

  Kelly perched on the edge of the bed. "You'll be happy to know Steve's mom has kidnapped my kids. So Ella and Colton won't be exposed to measles."

  Rebecca snorted. "You make it sound like the plague."

  "I swear it is. Between the crying, scratching, puking, picking, bathing and whining, I haven't had a second to brush my hair, much less pee by myself. You were lucky, Sis. Neither Colton nor Ella ever had measles."

  "No. They had Wesley."

  Kelly pursed her lips. "He's quite the bastard."

  "And then some."

  "I hope his balls rot off," Kelly muttered.

  "Gross."

  Kelly shrugged. "It's what he deserves."

  "Thanks for driving down here, Sis."

  "Hey, what are sisters for?"

  "When I get out of here, I'm going to owe you. Big-time."

  Kelly grinned. "I'm counting on that. Steve and I need a weekend away. Alone, no kids. So guess where they'll be staying?"

  "Anytime."

  Kelly hugged her. "I'm going to go grab us a bite to eat from the cafeteria. What do you want?"

  "If you can find me a sandwich that doesn't look like it'll walk away on its own, get me one."

  Ten minutes after Kelly left, Rebecca had another visitor. Wesley.

  She swallowed hard at the sight of him standing in the doorway to her room. A police officer stood next to him.

  "Mr. Kingston," the officer said, "you cannot go into the room."

  "But she's my wife, for Christ's sake."

  The guard looked at Rebecca.

  "It's okay," she said. "You can both come inside."

  She wasn't stupid. The police were looking into Wesley's connections. Though she prayed they were wrong and that he wasn't involved, she wasn't willing to risk her life.

  "Becca," Wesley said, approaching the bed, a red rose in one hand.

  "That's far enough." She held up a hand. "Whatever you have to say to me can be said from where you're standing."

  "I-I couldn't believe it when I heard." Wesley's face was pale, his eyes filled with concern. "The kids?" His voice cracked.

  "They're okay. I'm okay too."

  "Oh my God. When I think of how you all could've died…it makes me sick."

  He sounded sincere. But he'd deceived her before.

  "You know they think you had something to do with this," she said.

  "Rebecca," Wesley said with a moan, "you can't believe I'd do something like this. I'd never hurt you—or the kids. I know things suck between us right now, but I'd hoped that you'd—"

  "What? Forgive you? Let you move back in with us?" She shook her head. "That'll never happen."

  "I swear to you, I did not have anything to do with what happened to you."

  "Not intentionally maybe. But your actions…" She shrugged.

  "I'm sorry," Wesley snapped. "But this is not my fault."

  "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

  When she looked at Wesley, all she felt was contempt. For his gambling, his apparent lack of judgment, even his poor attempt at an apology. He'd gotten mixed up in something that was bigger than either of them. And it had almost cost them everything.

  Wesley ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the officer. "Can I see my kids?"

  The officer nodded. "Same rules apply though. No contact."

  "Can I come back and see you?" Wesley asked her.

  Rebecca glanced at the officer. "Is Detective Zur going to question Wesley?"

  "Yeah. He's on his way."

  Relief washed over her. "Let's see what happens, Wesley."

  "I'm glad you're all right." He handed the rose to the guard.

  After the door closed behind him and she was alone again, Rebecca broke down. She cried for everything she had lost—her marriage, her faith in love. Then she cried for everything she'd almost lost—Ella and Colton. If their father had anything to do with them being run off the road, she had no idea how she would explain it to them.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Hinton, AB – Saturday, June 15, 2013 – 8:47 PM

  At the Hinton Police Department, Marcus stood on the viewer's side of the one-way glass, while Detective John Zur interviewed Kingston in the adjoining i
nterrogation room.

  Wesley Kingston had a slick-looking lawyer present, probably a gift from Daddy Kingston. The lawyer was in his midthirties, and he licked his lips continually, as though he were hungry for a case that would propel him into the limelight. This could be that case—if Rebecca's husband had hired someone to take her out.

  Zur had warned Marcus that they were still considering the angle that Kingston had hired someone to do the deed. The kids' inheritance was more than enough incentive. They were combing through his phone and e-mail records.

  "I would never do anything to hurt my kids," Kingston protested yet again.

  "But you stand to inherit some hefty cash if your wife and kids are dead," Zur said. "That's motive for a lot of people, especially those who are raking up bad debts."

  "I've always been able to pay off what I owe. No one's after me or threatening me." Kingston scowled at his lawyer. "The only money being wasted right now is on this guy."

  "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," the lawyer said. "Your father wants you to have the best defense."

  "For what?" Kingston roared. "I didn't do anything!" He jumped to his feet and paced in the small space behind his chair. "As I've insisted numerous times, I have no idea who would do this. I've not heard from anyone about it. I've not hired anyone to do it. I love my children. I love my wife."

  "Then why did you have an affair?" Zur asked.

  Kingston stopped, shrugged, then dropped back into the chair. "It simply…happened. Rebecca and I weren't getting along. We were on two different paths. I met Tracey years ago."

  "This affair has been going on for how many years?"

  "About five years maybe. I'm not sure. Tracey and I have been on and off."

  "But you're 'on' now, living together."

  "My marriage is over. It has been for a long time."

  "Then why haven't you signed the divorce papers and moved on?"

  Kingston crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought maybe she'd change her mind. Maybe we both would. I wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing. That's what I thought, so I mailed the papers back to her lawyer."

  "Do you want to know what I think?" Zur asked, leaning forward. "I think you didn't sign the papers because once you did, you'd have zero access to the money that's supposed to go to your kids. I think you've been holding out for that. And I think you hired Rufus Delaney to get rid of the three things that are standing in your way."

  "You're not listening to me," Kingston said in a weary voice, "I don't know any Rufus Delaney."

  Zur slid a photo toward Kingston. "You have no idea who this guy is? Never met him? Maybe you hired him blind, a recommendation from one of your gambling cohorts, perhaps."

  Kingston shook his head. "No."

  "This guy," Zur tapped the photo, "intentionally ran your wife and children off the road and into a frigid river, where they were submerged underwater, holding their breath, probably thinking they were going to die there."

  Kingston shuddered and broke into gulping sobs. "I swear it wasn't me."

  "Your son and daughter, such beautiful children, almost died."

  Kingston covered his face. "I'd never hurt Colton or Ella. I love them!"

  "We're done here," the lawyer said, tapping his client's arm.

  "Mr. Kingston," Zur said, "you're free to leave. For now. Don't go anywhere. We may have more questions for you later." He flicked a look toward the one-way mirror and gave a subtle lift of his shoulders.

  Behind the glass, Marcus clenched his jaw. "Shit."

  Wesley Kingston was walking out of the station because there wasn't enough evidence against him to hold him here.

  Marcus considered everything the man had said. Kingston's alibi had checked out. He'd been in Fort McMurray.

  The door opened and Zur stepped inside, a manila folder tucked under one arm.

  "We got nothing, Marcus."

  "So if he didn't do it, we're back to the theory that someone was sending him a message because he owed them."

  John closed the door. "We checked the casinos. He has some debt, but not much. He'd recently paid off a two-thousand-dollar loan."

  "The money Rebecca said was missing from their account."

  Zur nodded. "We've got Delaney though. We've got him on security footage at the gas station. A search of his house nabbed us the baseball cap and T-shirt—Route 66 with a mustang on it. And paint transfer on his truck matches the paint on Mrs. Kingston's car."

  "Sounds like you've got enough on him to lock him away for a long time."

  "Yeah, except we're hoping he'll be ready to make a deal. Give up the one behind this all."

  "What kind of deal?"

  "Maybe less time in prison. Don't know yet. Prosecution is putting together a proposal."

  "Jesus, John. We can't let Delaney walk. He has to pay for his actions. He tried to kill them, for Christ's sake."

  "He won't walk. He'll go to prison. No doubt about it. We're going to offer him minimum security in exchange for giving us the name of whoever hired him."

  "When are you questioning him?"

  "He'll be here in about twenty minutes."

  "Can I—?" Marcus indicated the one-way window.

  "Yeah." Zur cleared his throat. "I heard you're going to stay with Mrs. Kingston for a few days. You sure that's a good idea?"

  "She's got no one else."

  "You seem to be getting a bit too close to this case. You're supposed to remain impartial."

  "Says who? Emergency services criteria and regulations?"

  "Exactly."

  "If you haven't noticed, I'm not currently working. I've been suspended. I'm on my own time now. And technically, when I left my desk, I was minutes from being done with my shift. I went to look for Rebecca on my own time."

  Zur nodded. "Stick with that story."

  "It's not a story. It's the truth."

  Zur stared at him but said nothing.

  "Your truth radar is malfunctioning, John. And not just with me."

  "What do you mean?

  "Wesley Kingston."

  "What about him?"

  "He was telling you the truth. He didn't hire Delaney. He wouldn't hurt his kids, no matter how pissed off he was with Rebecca. And no matter how much money he owed someone."

  "How do you know?"

  "I saw it in his eyes."

  "Saw what?"

  "His love for his children. I was a father once too. Remember? He's not personally responsible for this. He'd never risk the lives of his children."

  "But you heard him. He had no idea they were going with Rebecca. That was a last-minute change in her plans."

  "Yeah, but Delaney saw they were with her. He would've reported back to whoever hired him, revealed that the kids were there. And that coldhearted person is the one who gave the order, with no forethought about killing two innocent children. Kingston isn't that ruthless."

  "Then who is?"

  Marcus released a heavy sigh and shook his head. "I have no idea."

  "According to Kingston, everyone loves his wife. She's got no enemies, been in no altercations with anyone and no one else would gain from her death. She's cleaner than a Catholic nun."

  Marcus moved to the door. "I need to see her."

  "What about Delaney?"

  "Call me if he gives up a name?" He paused in the hallway. "And, John? I'll bet you season tickets to the Oilers that he won't name Wesley Kingston."

  John smiled. "Done. I could use some downtime."

  "You won't be the one going."

  "Hold on a minute." John rifled through the folder, then handed him a photo of an unshaven, unsmiling man.

  "Rufus Delaney?"

  "Yeah. Show it to Mrs. Kingston. See if she knows him from someplace."

  Marcus tucked the photo into his jacket pocket and strode away.

  Something nagged at him. He was missing something too elusive to catch.

  Chapter Thirty- Six

  Hinton, AB – Sunday, June
16, 2013 – 9:49 PM

  Rebecca checked her reflection in the handheld mirror one of the nurse's had lent her. Her blue eyes were framed by hollow valleys, but other than that, she looked presentable. She'd washed her face and brushed her hair—simple tasks normally, but not tonight. Her ribs still ached.

  At Rebecca's insistence and after a three-hour visit, Kelly had headed back home to be with her kids. It had been hard to say good-bye, but Rebecca reassured her sister that she'd be home soon.

  Marcus had called to let her know he was back in town with the clothing he'd promised to retrieve. He'd stopped off at the police station first, where Wesley was being questioned. She was relieved to hear her husband wasn't being locked up in a cell. There was no way Wesley had tried to kill them.

  "Hi," Marcus said from the doorway.

  Self-conscious, she slid the mirror beneath the covers. "Hi."

  "How are you feeling?"

  "Better." Then why was her stomach so twisted in knots?

  "Good. And the kids?"

  "They're asleep. Supervised by a female officer."

  Marcus nodded, then approached the bed. He set a plastic bag on the side table. "I hope these are okay."

  "I'm sure they'll be fine. Thank you."

  Conversation seemed unusually stilted, and the air felt charged with electricity. It was as though they each wanted to say something but held back out of fear.

  "Someone brought you a rose," he said.

  She looked at the vase in the window. It held the red rose Wesley had brought her. "A peace offering, I guess."

  "From your husband?"

  "Soon to be ex."

  "I have something to show you," he said after a long silence.

  "Pull up a chair."

  He pulled something from his pocket. "Have you seen this man before?"

  Rebecca took the photo. "Is this the man?"

  Marcus nodded.

  She stared at the photograph, thinking back to the times she'd gone shopping, driven to the school, gone to work. She traced a finger over the man's face. He had cruelty in his eyes and meanness in very line of his face.

  This man tried to kill me and my kids.

  "Does he look familiar?" Marcus prodded.

  "No. I've never seen him before in my life."