by Nora Roberts
“Here, baby.” Gently, he curved an arm under her and brought the cup to her lips. “Drink some of this.”
“He was downstairs.” Her fingers fretted at the bedspread. “It wasn’t Channing. The little horse was shattered, and he was just there. He kept smiling. He kept hitting me and smiling.”
The hand on the wet cloth clenched until the knuckles went white. “He won’t hurt you anymore.” With fingers no more steady than hers, he washed away the blood. “Hold on to me, Kelsey. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”
“I couldn’t bluff.” Shivering, she curled against him. She was cold, so cold, and he held the heat. “I tried, but I was so scared, and so angry. And he knew, and he’d hit me again.” She turned her battered face into Gabe’s throat. “He has such big hands.”
And preferred to use them, Gabe thought grimly, on women. “I’d have killed him for this,” he murmured. “Killed him with my own hands for touching you.”
“It wasn’t me.” Suddenly she was so tired, so horribly, horribly tired. “It was you. He wanted to hurt you.”
“I know.” He turned his head just enough to brush his lips over her brow, then he eased her back on the pillows. “It’s over now.”
She let her eyes close for a moment. As the worst of the shock ebbed, the pain crept back. Her body felt trampled. “You came.” Blindly she groped for his hand, found it.
“Yeah.” He looked down at their joined hands. “A hunch. The trouble was I moved on it too late.”
Her eyes opened again, fresh panic flashing. “Naomi.”
“She’s fine. If you’d been alone . . .” The thought of that had talons of fear clawing through his gut. “Kelsey, I’m going to give you an out. Right now.”
“An out?” Though she wasn’t sure she would like what she found, she lifted a hand to probe at her throbbing face.
“If I were fair, I’d do the walking.”
“Walking?” The heavy fog was lifting. She could see him clearly now. The strain that tightened his face, the swirl of emotion in his eyes. “Gabe.” She touched a hand to his cheek as if to brush some color and calm into it. “Don’t. I’m all right now.”
“He battered your face. He tore your clothes. He terrified you.” Deliberately he pried her clutching hand from his and rose. “He was my father. It doesn’t matter that I’ve worked all my life to rid myself of any part of him. It’s blood, and it’ll always be there. I’ve got no place in your life, Kelsey. The biggest favor I could do for you is to walk out of it.”
With some effort, she pushed herself up. Pain was singing in every bone now. “Did I ask you for a damn favor?” she snapped out. She winced as the scream of sirens sliced through the night and into her throbbing head. “If you want to do me one, then get me a bottle of aspirin, and keep your ridiculous grand gestures to yourself.”
He nearly smiled. “I’m trying to be noble.”
“Well, you’re no good at it. And I don’t like noble. I like you.” She brushed her hair back, eyed him narrowly. “Do you think you can sneak out of this when I’m down? We had a deal, Slater, and you’re not going to welsh.”
“I never welsh.” He sat on the edge of the bed again, and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “And that’s my last shot at nobility. A hell of a hero I make anyway. It should have been me who killed him, Kelsey.”
She crossed a hand over her body to clasp his. “Don’t. You couldn’t know that he would be here, that he would do this. And still you came.” Her brow furrowed. “Why did you come?”
“It doesn’t matter now. But it should have been me. It should have been me and not Naomi who killed him.”
Kelsey drew back, her face paling again. “It wasn’t you,” she said slowly. “And it wasn’t Naomi. I killed your father, Gabe.”
Naomi sipped the brandy slowly. She was sitting in the kitchen. The lights were very bright, and hurt her eyes. Her hands were trembling.
But she could deal with it. Would deal with it.
All she could think was that her daughter was upstairs, hurt, terrorized. And Gertie, sweet Gertie was in an ambulance on her way to the hospital.
“He must have come in this way,” she said. “Hit Gertie. She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Control slipped a notch, and her lips trembled. “She’s so small and she’s so harmless.”
“The paramedics said she was lucid, Ms. Chadwick.” Rossi kept his voice low. The woman looked as though she would shatter into bits at any moment. “We’ll check on her once they’ve had time to get her to the hospital.”
“Moses should have gone with her. I should have made him go.”
“He’s not going to leave you. We’re having a hard-enough time keeping him outside. Just tell me what happened.”
Naomi drew in a deep breath and began. “He got in the house. I don’t know how. I was upstairs in bed, sleeping. A noise woke me. Before I could get up, Kelsey ran into my room. She was terrified, hysterical. Her face . . . I could see where he’d hit her.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth. She’d slept through that. Slept while he’d beaten her child.
“Then there was banging at the bedroom door. As if someone were throwing himself against it. I got the gun out of the drawer beside the bed. When he broke in, I shot him.”
Rossi watched her as she lifted her glass, cupping her other hand over it to try to keep it steady as she drank.
“You were in bed when you shot him, Ms. Chadwick?”
“Yes. No.” She set the glass down. She had to be careful. She had to be very careful. “I was in front of the window. I’d gotten up. It happened very fast.”
“You say a noise woke you, but your daughter ran in before you could get up and see what it was?”
“Yes.” Why did they always repeat what she said? They’d done that before, she remembered. It didn’t matter what she said. It never mattered.
“Have you been into the sitting room, Ms. Chadwick, since you notified the police?”
“No.” She pressed her lips together. If it was a trick, she couldn’t see it. “I didn’t come down. I stayed upstairs until you came.”
“You’ve got a hell of a mess in there. Blood, broken furniture. I’d say that much damage took some time to accomplish. Time enough for anyone to get out of bed and check things out.”
“I—I was frightened.” Should she tell him she’d taken a sleeping pill? Yes. No. “I stayed in my room because I was frightened.”
“With a phone right beside you, and a gun in the drawer?”
She looked up, met his eyes. “He broke into my bedroom,” she said evenly. “And I shot him.”
“No, she didn’t.” Kelsey stepped into the kitchen. Though she was grateful for the support of Gabe’s arm, she made herself move away from it. “She didn’t kill anyone.”
“You shouldn’t be down here.” Panicked, Naomi pushed away from the table. “Take her back upstairs, Gabe. You can see she’s hurt.” She clamped a desperate hand on Rossi’s arm. “You can see she’s hurt. Look what that bastard did to her. Look what he did to my child. She’s in shock. She doesn’t know what happened.”
“Stop it.” Kelsey stepped up to the table. In the strong light her cuts and bruises stood out in stark relief against her pale skin. “I’m not going to let you do this. It isn’t necessary. And it isn’t right.”
“Why don’t you sit down, Ms. Byden?” Rossi invited. “And tell me what happened.”
“No!” In a lunge Naomi rounded the table and gripped Kelsey’s arms. “Listen to me, Kelsey. You’re hurt, you’re confused. Gabe will take you to the hospital, and I’ll handle this.”
“No.” She shook her head, moving in to draw Naomi close. “Mom, no.”
“I’m not going to let you go through this. I won’t!” Trembling now, she hugged Kelsey tight. “You don’t know what it’s like. It won’t matter what you say. It won’t matter what happened. They’ll take you away, Kelsey. Please, please, listen to me!”
“It do
es matter,” Kelsey murmured. “It’s not like before.”
But it was, Naomi thought. Of course it was. “My fingerprints are on the gun.” Stone-faced, Naomi turned back to Rossi. “The gun was in my room. He was killed in my room. That should be enough for you.”
“Naomi,” Gabe said gently, “sit down.”
“You said you’d take care of her.” She turned to him. “You said you would. Now make her go upstairs.”
“Ms. Chadwick.” Rossi studied her eyes. “There’s a very simple test that will prove whether it was you or your daughter who discharged the weapon.”
“I don’t give a damn about your tests. You’re not putting my daughter in a cell.”
“I think we can agree on that. Sit down. Please,” Rossi added.
“Come on.” Kelsey draped an arm over Naomi’s shoulders. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. I promise.”
“Would you like some brandy, Ms. Byden?” Rossi asked when she was settled at the table.
Kelsey looked down at the snifter and shuddered. “No. I’ve lost my taste for it.” She drew a deep breath. “I heard glass breaking downstairs,” she began.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
THERE WAS DEW SPARKLING ON THE GRASS. FROM HER CHAIR ON THE patio, Kelsey watched it gleam, knowing the sun would soon be strong enough to burn it away.
Down at the barn, horses were being worked, stalls cleaned, troughs filled. Her body still ached enough to prevent her from resenting the fact that she’d been banned from the routine for a week.
She glanced around as the door opened behind her, and she smiled at her mother. “Gertie?”
“She’s feeling better. She’s fussing.” With a sigh, Naomi sat, stretched out her legs. She thought about pouring coffee from the pot Kelsey had on the table, but she felt entirely too lazy. “I’m using guilt to keep her in bed for another day or two. If she gets up, I’ll worry.”
“Sneaky.”
“Whatever works. Right now she’s buying out the shopping channels. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, until I look in the mirror.” She grimaced. Over the last two days some of the bruises had faded, but others had blossomed. “Until I do, it all seems almost like a dream. I don’t know if it’s just a stage I’m stuck in. I know I killed a man, but I can’t seem to feel the horror of it.”
“Don’t try. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. And me.” Naomi lifted her face to the sun. “I don’t even remember him, Kelsey. Not really. I suppose I saw him around the track now and then. Maybe even spoke to him. But I don’t really remember. I keep thinking I should, that it all should be vivid in my mind. How can I not remember a man who had so much to do with the way my life turned out?”
“He never mattered to you. And he knew it. That was part of the anger that built up in him. He found a way to make you pay, and to make a profit.” She pushed the plate of croissants toward Naomi.
“Sun Spot,” Naomi murmured. “God, I loved that horse. Yes, he certainly made me pay.”
“She—Grandmother—used Alec Bradley for that, for a lot of things. And Cunningham.”
“Bill.” On a long breath, Naomi shook her head. “He’s so much more of a fool than I guessed. And what good did it do him, Kelsey, then or now?”
“He didn’t pay before. But he’ll pay now. The police, the Racing Commission, they’ll see that Cunningham pays for what he did to Pride, and to Sun Spot.”
“All those years ago. No one ever put it together.”
“It might have ended there, with the lies and the misery, if Gabe hadn’t come back. If he hadn’t drawn an inside straight.” She smiled as Naomi tore off a corner of a roll. “If he hadn’t made himself into the man he is.”
“And if you hadn’t fallen in love with him. That’s something that smooths away the worst of it, Kelsey. When I think of what could have happened—”
“It didn’t. Rich Slater paid the price for his part in it. And the case is closed. Self-defense.”
“I suppose it was foolish of me to lie to the police.” She tossed the bite of roll aside. “He didn’t believe me. It’s ironic, isn’t it? Once I told the truth, once I lied. Neither worked.”
“You were trying to protect me.” It was time to say it, Kelsey told herself, and she hoped the full meaning would be understood. “You tried to protect me before, when I was a child. You were wrong both times. And you were right both times.”
“No easy answers.”
“It’s taken me a long time to realize there isn’t always only one.” She pressed her lips together before continuing. “I’m grateful for what you’re doing for Milicent. No, please don’t stiffen up on me. I’m grateful, even though I can’t resolve it in my heart, even though it’s a lie. I’m grateful.”
“What difference would it make now, Kelsey? To have the whole story come out and destroy what’s left of her life?” The birds were singing, and the sound was comforting. “It wouldn’t give me back those years. It wouldn’t change what happened to Mick, to Pride, to Reno.”
“She’s responsible for that, for all of it.” Shame and bitterness warred inside Kelsey. “No matter that she couldn’t have meant anyone to die, she’s responsible. Hiring other people to do what she considered necessary to protect the family name? What name does she have now?” Kelsey demanded. “What honor?”
“And that’s what she has to live with. I don’t do this for her.”
“I know.”
Naomi lifted a brow. “It’s not entirely unselfish, either. I don’t want to go through it, to live through the press, the police. And I have the gift of knowing you believed me. You believed in me enough to stick.”
“I wasn’t the only one who believed you. And everyone would know what happened with Alec Bradley, what happened with Pride and all the rest if the story came out.”
“I don’t care about everyone.” Naomi decided she’d pour coffee after all. “I talked it over with Moses last night, and we’re agreed.” She smiled, adding cream to her coffee. “When a woman has a man who’ll stand by her through the worst, the rest is easy.”
Naomi glanced over at the sound of a car pulling into the drive. “That’s probably Gabe.”
“It better be. We were supposed to go over these menus for the reception over breakfast.”
“Then I’d better leave you two alone to do it.”
“No, why don’t you stay? That way you can agree with what I’ve already decided and give me the edge.”
Kelsey leaned forward, took her mother’s hand. “I love you.”
Emotions swirled up, then settled beautifully. “I know.”
Kelsey rose and started across the patio to greet him. Her eyes widened as they shifted from Gabe’s to her father’s, then back again. “Dad?”
“Oh, Kelsey.” Instinctively Philip framed her face with his hands. Nothing Gabe had told him had prepared him. “Oh, sweetheart.”
“I’m all right, really. It looks much worse than it is. I was going to come see you in a couple of days.” When she looked more presentable, she thought, and shot Gabe a telling look.
“Your young man was right to tell me the whole story. The whole story,” he repeated, staring into her eyes. “You left out a great many details when you phoned me, Kelsey.”
Another kind of lie, she thought. The sin of omission. “I thought it best. I only wanted you to know I was all right before the papers reported it. And I am all right.”
“So I’m told.” He looked back at Gabe, then his gaze shifted, locked over Kelsey’s shoulder. She moved aside and stood between her parents.
“Dad wanted to see that I was all right,” she began.
“Of course he did.” Naomi nodded, and kept her hands at her sides. “Hello, Philip.”
“Naomi. You look well.”
“So do you.”
“Ah . . .” Kelsey groped for some way to ease past the awkwardness. “Channing’s down at the barn. Why don’t you walk down with me, Dad?
You’ll get a kick out of seeing him work, and he can show off for you.” She looked helplessly at Gabe.
“I’m sure you’d like to talk with Kelsey,” Naomi said. “I was just on my way down to the barn myself. I’ll tell Channing you’re here.”
“No, I—” Philip began, then composed himself. “Actually, I’d like to speak with you. If you have the time.”
“All right.”
“Let’s take a walk,” Gabe murmured, and grasped Kelsey’s hand.
“I don’t know where to begin, Naomi. Gabe told me everything. Everything,” Philip repeated, heartsick. “He was kind enough to wait for me when I went to see her. I had to see her,” he added, “before I came here.”
“I understand.”
“Understand?” Unbearably weary, he slipped his fingers under his glasses and pressed them to his eyes. “I can’t. I can’t understand. All that she did, all the pain she caused. And when I confronted her, she was unbending. Unshakable,” he said, and dropped his hands. “She sees nothing that she did as anything but necessary. Men died, but she feels no responsibility. Not to them, not to you.”
“And that surprises you?”
He winced. “She remains my mother, Naomi. Even knowing all I know. I’ve thought of hundreds of ways to try to apologize, and none of them begins to cover it. What she did. What I did.” He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes again, then replaced them. “And the simple fact is, I don’t know what to say to you.”
“It’s over, Philip.”
“I let you down. All those years ago, I let you down.”
“No. There was a time I thought that. It helped, but it wasn’t really true. I wasn’t what you wanted me to be. Whatever she’s done, Milicent wasn’t responsible for that. Only for making sure you realized it.”
“She could have prevented you from going to prison.”
“Yes.”
“And what she did now, to you—to Kelsey.” His breath caught as the image of his daughter’s bruised face swam into his mind. “My God, Naomi. She might have been killed.”
“She protected herself. And me.” She studied him, the pain in his eyes, the baffled disbelief behind it. “I can’t tell you not to feel what you’re feeling now. Kelsey was hurt, was forced to defend herself by taking a life. And you and I will never forget it. We’ll never forget who started the chain of events. Maybe,” she said slowly, “that’s enough punishment for Milicent.”