"There is another reason," Detective Zur replied.
Rebecca frowned. "What?"
"This is what we've been able to piece together. Walter Kingston was working on a major merger deal with two very well-known eBook retailers—one from Canada, the other from the US. It would've been huge news, especially for the Canadian company, which Walter represented. He'd spent thousands on research, all of which would have been recouped once the merger went through. Not to mention, he'd earn a hefty sum for closing the deal."
"But what's that got to do with me?"
"Everything started with Wesley."
"His gambling," she guessed.
"Wesley had borrowed money from his father to repay his gambling debts, then incurred more debt. That's when Tracey Whitaker went to Walter and relayed what Wesley had told her about the inheritance you received from your grandfather."
"The kids' money," she corrected.
"Yes. She convinced him that, with you out of the picture, Wesley could get his hands on that money, clear his debts and repay the loans to Walter. He knew he had to do something to help Wesley because if word got out about his son's gambling, the companies would pull out of the merger and—"
"And the Canadian company would dump Walter as their lawyer," she finished.
Detective Zur nodded. "Exactly. Kingston would lose millions in the deal."
"So he's the one who hired Rufus Delaney to run me off the road."
"Yes. And when that failed, he paid Tracey to drug you in the hospital."
Rebecca recalled Tracey's words. "That's the way he wanted it, planned it. He paid that guy to run her off the road. He said I had to finish it, that we'd get the money for sure then. There was no other way I could pay back the goddamn loan."
"At the hospital," she said, "right before she was shot, we thought she was saying that Wesley had been her partner in crime."
"But all along it was his father," Marcus said.
Rebecca thought of Wesley, of her marriage, of all the lies. Her children had almost paid the price for his behavior. Never again!
"Life isn't all sunshine and roses, is it?" Marcus said.
She shook her head. "Maybe it's time to get a new life." She gazed into his eyes. "Both of us."
"Time for me to go," the detective said. "You two can come down in the morning, and I'll take your statements then. You both look like you've been through hell."
"And back," Marcus agreed.
"You should stop by the hospital and get checked out. You're going to need stitches in your arm."
"Later. Right now, John, I want to sit awhile and relax."
Detective Zur looked at Rebecca and rolled his eyes. "He's such a tough guy. Make sure he gets checked out. Don't take no for an answer."
Rebecca grinned. "I won't. I'll drive him there myself."
Marcus let out a snort and she whipped around. "What? Are you suggesting I'm not a good driver?"
"Look where your last trip got you."
"Ha ha, Mr. Big Shot."
He smiled at her, and it lit his eyes. "I thought I was Mr. Superhero."
"I think I'm going to regret that comment."
"Okay, okay," he said waving his hands in the air. "You can drive my car. I know I'll never get any peace from you unless I go."
Rebecca glanced over her shoulder to say something to the detective, but he was already gone. "Give me your keys," she said to Marcus. "I promise not to drive us into a river."
Chapter Fifty-One
Edmonton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 8:23 PM
Marcus left the hospital exam room, feeling a strange lightness in his step and a weightlessness to his body. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath until he released it, slowly, evenly.
Everything had checked out. An ER doctor had ordered some X-rays on his hands and face, but she said nothing was broken. She'd patched up the cuts, stitched his arm and warned him he'd feel worse in the morning.
Great. With nothing stronger that Tylenol, tomorrow was going to be one nasty day. Except for seeing Rebecca.
He smiled and dialed her cell phone. "I'm all done."
She'd wanted to wait with him, but he'd insisted that the long wait and subsequent tests wouldn't be much fun, and he suggested she visit her kids. He figured her sister would take care of her for the few hours he'd be at the hospital.
"My sister wants to meet you," she said.
"I'm not very good with families."
She laughed. "You'll do fine. Kelly's already got you up on a gold-plated pedestal."
"You sure know how to put a guy at ease," he said wryly.
"Come on, Marcus. It'll be fun. We'll have lunch tomorrow with the kids, Kelly and Steve after we see Detective Zur."
He grinned. "Sounds like a date."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"Lunch tomorrow is fine, Rebecca."
"See you in twenty minutes."
"Actually, I have someplace I need to be. I'll take a cab to your place afterward so I can pick up my car." After she agreed, he hung up.
During the examination, all he could think about was Rebecca and how close they'd all come to death. It put things in perspective. Life was short. Death could come knocking any time.
After Walter Kingston attempted to drown Rebecca, Marcus realized something had changed in his own life. He could finally breathe. It was like he'd been submerged, lost, but now a switch had been flipped. Like he'd been given a new lease on life…and more. A new relationship—one he'd never expected but wanted very much to explore.
However, he had to clean up his old life first. He'd left too much unfinished.
Time to burn the wooden box.
This time, he knew he'd do it. He'd watch the damn thing burn until all that was left was a pile of ashes. He was done with holding on to the past. Done with drugs. Done with ghosts. As soon as he got home, he'd light a fire in the fireplace.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes…
In the hallway near the nurses' station he spotted a public phone. Should he make the call?
"Time to get a new life," Rebecca had said.
Before he could do that, he needed to say farewell to the old one.
He grabbed the receiver and dialed. When his former mother-in-law picked up, he took a deep breath. "Mom—uh, Wanda? It's Marcus. I wanted to let you know that I will be coming to Jane's memorial."
"That's wonderful," Wanda said.
"I, uh…I'll be bringing a guest, if that's all right."
"Of course. Anyone I know?"
"No. It's someone I…met recently."
"A woman?" There was surprise in Wanda's voice, and something that sounded like joy.
"Yes," he said. "Rebecca."
There was a long pause. Was Wanda upset with him?
"Marcus," she said, "I'm so relieved to hear you're finally ready to move on."
"What?"
"Jane would want you to be happy, dear. So would Ryan. Neither of them would want to see you all alone in this world."
Wanda's response was nothing like he'd expected.
"Thank you…Mom."
"You'll always be my son, Marcus. In my heart. You gave my daughter the best years of her life."
"And some not so good ones," he reminded her.
"Jane never dwelled on that stuff. She loved you. You loved her. You just went missing for a while. And you've been lost ever since she and Ryan died."
Marcus lowered his head and turned his back to the nurses' station, while wiping away a wayward tear. "So you forgive me?"
"Of course, dear. I forgave you years ago. So did Jane and Ryan. The question is, Marcus, do you forgive yourself?"
"I do."
As he hung up, Marcus realized he'd stated the truth to Wanda for the first time in six years. He did forgive himself. Another realization hit him. His new life had finally begun.
But first there were a few loose ends that needed to be tied up.
"My
name's Marcus," he said, following the decades-old ritual, "and I'm a drug addict."
He took a moment to examine the faces of the people who understood him, although all were strangers except for Leo, who sat in the front row. These people had come from all walks of life. Some young, some old. Male, female, it didn't matter. Addiction didn't discriminate.
"Until today," he said, "I've mainly listened while others have shared their stories. I've admired you for your courage, something I've been lacking in for far too long." He thought of the NA group in Edson. "I've selfishly listened while you've laid bare your souls, not once giving you the same respect. And for that I am deeply sorry."
He bowed his head and took a deep breath. Then he lifted his eyes and stared into the faces of the bravest men and women he knew, drawing upon their strength and remembering Leo's wise words: "Admission is good for the soul."
"The first time I used," Marcus began, "it was an excuse to stay alert, stay awake. I rationalized my behavior, telling myself I'd save lives. I was a paramedic. I stole drugs to feed my habit. I forged signatures on prescription pads I stole from doctors I'd worked with. I betrayed their trust—and everyone else's—all the time telling myself I could stop any time. That it was no big deal."
His audience was transfixed, each identifying with the rationale that all addicts turn to―excuses.
"I tried to quit after my wife and son died. I killed them, or at least that's what I'd always thought."
There were gasps from some of the new members.
"I didn't kill them with my hands, but it doesn't matter. My actions―using drugs―led to their deaths. At the time, I convinced myself I had it under control, that the drugs weren't affecting my life. I was fooling myself. I honestly believed I could quit anytime and that I was using so that I could be on top of my game. Alert. Quick to act."
He caught Leo's eye. His friend knew the game. How common it was for paramedics and other high-stress career people to take something to keep them alert. Most started with high-energy drinks. When these stopped working, they moved to the small stuff―codeine/caffeine combinations usually. Then the stealing would begin. Leo and Marcus had been resourceful thieves.
"I was cocky and stupid," Marcus said. "I tried to separate myself physically from Jane and Ryan, thinking they'd be safer that way. That was a mistake. One I can never, ever, take back."
A young woman in the front row nodded in understanding.
"My wife was worried when I took off to clear my head," he continued. "She tried calling me, but I didn't answer my phone." His voice cracked. "If only I'd picked up. Maybe I could have convinced her to stay home. But instead, Jane and Ryan drove from Edmonton to Cadomin in a torrential rainstorm, with almost zero visibility."
As he gathered his courage, Leo gave him a slow nod. In that instant, Marcus knew it was time to let go of the terrible burden he'd been keeping close to his heart. The secret that kept him from living. His guilty soul passenger.
"They hit a patch of ice and water," he said in a subdued voice. "The car spun out of control and flipped. There were no other vehicles in sight when they flipped upside down and landed in a ditch filled with about four feet of freezing water."
Murmurs of compassion filled the room.
"Keep going," Leo urged him from the front row.
"Jane and Ryan drowned. They were dead when rescuers found them." Marcus's voice turned bitter. "Dead because they were coming to save me."
For a long time after, he'd thought his life wasn't worth saving, and if it hadn't been for Leo, he'd probably be dead. And with Jane and Ryan. That thought teased him day and night. In his dreams. In his waking thoughts. Some days he yearned for it to be true.
"They died six years ago," he said, staring into Leo's eyes. "And for a long time I wanted to die too. But someone reminded me that life is for the living."
He saw Leo blink back tears. So did some others in the group.
"It hasn't been easy," he said with a heavy sigh. "I still think about using. I still crave it. And I've slipped sometimes. I still carry the weight of guilt, but I'm trying to grasp the concept that I didn't kill them. It was an accident, a terrible tragedy. They could have died going for groceries." Closing his eyes, he pictured Jane's sexy grin and twinkling emerald eyes. "If nothing else, Jane taught me how to live. And I'm still alive. I'm here and they're not. I survived. I was given the gift of life, and I can't waste that gift."
His gaze swept across the sober faces, faces that now knew exactly where he'd been, what he'd done. He'd expected to find condemnation in their expressions, but what he found was forgiveness and understanding.
"One day at a time."
His words were softly echoed by the group, and he stepped away from the podium.
"You did good, man," Leo whispered as Marcus sat down.
"I survived, Leo." His voice was thick with emotion, and tears flowed freely down his cheeks.
When Marcus showed up at Rebecca's house, she took one look at his red-rimmed eyes and hugged him.
"You can tell me later," she said. "For now, just relax. It has been a long few days. Come on." She tugged on his hand.
"Where are we going?"
"To my room."
Though his mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts, he didn't argue when she led him into the house. His body felt like mush, like it would fold in on itself any moment. Each step felt like a lead weight had been strapped to his ankles. With the light from the hallway to guide them, they reached the bedroom.
Rebecca turned on a lamp, then pulled back the comforter and sheets.
"Are you trying to get me into bed?" he said with a sardonic smirk.
She arched a brow. "Your talent for deduction is mind-boggling. Come here."
He maneuvered around the side of the bed, and she began to unbutton his shirt, careful not to disturb the bandages around his arm.
She kissed his chest. "Tonight you will sleep like a baby."
With careful movements, she unbuttoned his pants, which seemed to propel him out of the fog he was in. He stripped off the jeans and his socks, then reached for her. But she pushed his hand away.
Confused, he said, "Aren't we gonna…" He wiggled his brows.
"Nope."
"Really?"
"Really."
"So we're just gonna―"
"Sleep, yes. We have plenty of time for the other, once your arm has healed. And my ribs."
"But that'll take weeks. What'll we do on our other dates until then?"
She nudged him down onto the bed. "Sleep. Or there won't be another date."
He grinned. "You drive a hard bargain, woman."
Dressed in his boxers, Marcus climbed beneath the sheets. They felt cool, satiny. He'd forgotten that sensation.
Rebecca stripped to her bra and panties, her own injuries hidden by bandages.
"We make a great couple," he said wryly.
She laughed, then climbed in beside him. He tugged her close, his hand resting on her hip.
She watched him, a worried expression in her eyes. "Sleep, Marcus."
She combed his hair with her fingers and he shivered. Her touch was comforting and he sighed. He stared at her for a long time, watching her pale eyelids close, her lips part and the lines across her forehead soften and disappear.
He listened to her slow steady breaths. In…out…in…out. The sound of life.
He closed his eyes.
This time, no haunting images visited him. He was free from tormented memories of the past. Free of the bloodsucking, energy draining weight of guilt that had submerged his life so completely. It was as if he had broken the surface and could now, finally, breathe.
And for the first time in over six years, Marcus slept.
Epilogue
Edson, Alberta – Friday, July 19, 2013 – 7:30 PM
There was a knock at Marcus's front door.
Arizona let out a bark and a whimper.
"Arizona," Marcus warned. "I expect you to behav
e like the lady you are." The dog cocked her head to one side as if considering his words.
He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders as if preparing for battle. He walked to the door, opened it and his voice left him as he gazed at the ethereal image on his doorstep. Strands of blond hair were swept up by a light breeze, then fluttered to Rebecca's shoulders.
They'd been dating for a month now, each time in Edmonton, in public places. At first they'd gotten together for coffee. Then lunch. They talked about everything—Rebecca's husband and their looming divorce, the pending court case against Walter Kingston, and life with Jane and Ryan.
Marcus had been more than a little surprised at the warm welcome he and Rebecca received at Jane and Ryan's memorial, especially after he stood up in front of the family and told them about his addiction. He found forgiveness there, something he hadn't expected.
"Hi," he said, dazed.
There was an awkward pause, before she said, "Are you going to let me in?"
"Of course." Wanting to kick himself, Marcus pushed the door open and ushered her inside. "Sorry. It's been a long time since I…since I've…you know."
Rebecca raised a brow. "What? Cooked dinner?"
"Had someone over. On a date."
"Is that what this is?" Her blue eyes were luminescent.
He laughed. "We do have problems defining that word, don't we?"
"I'm starved." She took his arm. "Lead the way."
Arizona whined.
"This is Arizona," he said. "The other female in my life."
"Hey, Arizona," Rebecca said, pulling a rawhide stick from her pocket. "I have a treat for you."
Arizona pushed her nose under Rebecca's hand, a silent demand for attention. Funny thing was, Arizona didn't normally do this with strangers.
The meal Marcus had prepared turned out perfectly. Marinated steaks grilled on the barbecue, pan-fried jumbo shrimp in Cajun spices, butter and lemon juice for dipping, and a Caesar salad. For dessert, he'd cheated though. He'd picked up a raspberry custard pie from the deli.
After dinner, they relaxed on the couch in the living room. Sipping a non-alcohol Saskatoon berry wine, they talked about their dreams and goals. Rebecca shared her excitement about starting her own business—a bed and breakfast somewhere in Alberta. He shared his thoughts of finding something different, something challenging but less stressful. But he still had doubts about his future.
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