by Snow, Nicole
“Like I said, we got lucky, Shane.” He turns to the benches lining the sides of the rails. “Let’s see if we’ve got any paddles in this boat so we don’t have to swim back to shore.”
There are paddles, long oars, but because of how high the railing is, Miller and I have to sit on the front of the pontoons in order for them to reach far enough into the water. They’re truly a last resort option.
As we start paddling, an odd, mournful howling splits the air.
I freeze, a shiver coursing up my spine. “What’s that?”
“That,” Miller says dryly, “is Jackie Wren. Soon to be former CEO of Mederva Therapeutics.”
Nervous urgency makes me start paddling again. “Where is she?”
“Tied up on the front porch, along with her goons. Eagle’s got them on lockdown till I get back. Soon as J.T. lets me know the data’s in good hands, she’ll be out of our sight in handcuffs.”
Relief fills me. I knew from the beginning he’d find a way out of this without getting hurt, and without his children suffering.
He’s that kind of a man. One you can count on day and night, through thick and thin, hell or high water.
A bona fide hero who’d be forever book boyfriend worthy in Mother’s eyes – and okay, in mine – but there’s nothing freaking fictional about him.
This is too real.
Too beautiful.
Too obviously, I hope, the start of a well-deserved Happily Ever After.
* * *
It takes forever to get across the small stretch of lake, but we do it. By then it’s finally morning, the sun sweeping over the misty lake, the islands farther out coming and going like hazy mountains.
Finally, he helps me down the ladder and ties up the boat next to the dock.
Before lifting the kids out, Miller glances at his phone. “Operation Loose Lips underway, according to J.T. Two major press offices just confirmed receiving what he sent.”
“Lucky you, Dad. Loose lips and no sinking ships,” Shane yells from the top of the ladder, smiling like he’s too clever for his own good.
I just want to know it’s almost over. For real this time.
“Miller?” I whisper, glancing at him as I help Shane down first, and then Lauren.
“The cops should be here any minute. Let’s keep the kids inside, assuming there’s still somewhere in there that doesn’t reek like a fuel tank.”
“Of course,” I say. “They need showers and clean clothes, anyway. I’m sure one of the bathrooms will be fine.”
He kisses my temple. “Thanks, Gingersnap. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Liar. He totally could’ve, and would have, but I’m glad he appreciates me giving everything I could to the cause. To us.
I usher the kids through the back door, trying to avoid the worst places drenched in gasoline. It’s not as bad the further we get into the house. Seems like the creep who did this started near the staircase and didn’t get far before we fled.
Miller disappears to the front. Though I’m itching to find out what happens next, Shane and Lauren are my top priority. I also can’t say I mind escaping a run-in with that horrible woman who engineered all this. Maybe Miller and J.T.’s friend can stay calm, keep their emotions in check, but I’m not sure I could do the same.
I’d want to slap her across the face and then keep going.
The kids are both wet and shivering from the lake. Now that there’s less excitement, it’s easy to remember how cold it was swimming.
I grab a small throw blanket off the back of one of the recliners. “Lauren, why don’t you jump in the shower first?” Tucking the blanket around Shane’s shoulders, I add, “You be ready after her, boy-o. I’ll go scrounge up some dry clothes in the meantime.”
“Gwen, what’ll happen now? Now that Dad’s taking the buttheads to jail, I mean?” Shane looks at me, his eyes big and bright. “Are we gonna have to leave?”
“For a while, at least, just to fix up the damage and give somebody a chance to come by and soak up the gas,” I tell him. I know full well that’s not what he’s asking but...
It’s hard. So incredibly difficult dealing with questions I’m afraid to even ask right now.
Truth is, I have no idea what will happen. But as long as it involves Miller and these kids, as long as we’re together, I don’t care if we wind up being the first family with a one-way ticket to Mars.
I give him a quick bear hug. “Don’t fret, Shane. Your dad will let us know real soon. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
“But I like it here. And Lauren loves this place too, all of it. I want to stay in Minnesota,” he says, flopping back against the wall like his poor little legs are just done supporting him. “We’re happier here, way more than we were in Seattle.”
“You’ll be happy every day after this, too,” I say, patting his shoulder. “Your dad–”
“But that’s just it, Gwen. Dad gets to be Dad ever since this stuff started. He doesn’t have to work so many hours. We get to see him, and even when he’s stressed, he’s just...happier than a clam, really. Some days back home, he wouldn’t want to do much except take us out to eat and stare at the ocean. I blame it on all the rain.”
My heart wells in my chest and something I don’t want to acknowledge stings my eyes again.
God, I really do love these two little people. “Right now, let’s not worry about where you’ll live. Nothing much matters except keeping you two dry.”
I shouldn’t be allowed to hand out sage advice.
Easier said than done, not worrying what’ll happen next.
Like where Miller and the kids will go now. Back to Seattle?
That was their home, Mederva or no Mederva. They put down roots there, made connections, and the kids probably have a school and friends out there...would he really give it all away to settle down here?
Again, various heartbreak city scenarios play out in my head while I gather clothes for Lauren and Shane, and then make sure they’re showered and upstairs.
It’s barely early morning. Their late-night excursion has worn them out. They crash, falling asleep almost the instant their heads hit the pillows.
Just as fast, I go downstairs and straight out the front door.
I’d snuck several peeks out the windows while seeing to Shane and Lauren, and I need to get out there to find out what’s happening. It’s been a couple hours.
There are several men tied to the big deck posts, under guard, and the woman I’ve seen before. She’s the same one I’d seen with Manny.
There were two other men with Miller earlier. I’m assuming one is Eagle, the man who’d been guarding the driveway, and the other looks like J.T. He must’ve burned rubber the whole distance here the second he heard about the commotion. He’d been with family up north, a little closer, maybe two hours from here.
Unsure who the new big white suburban I’d seen flashing a few minutes ago belongs to, I ease the door open cautiously.
Okay. So, by now, I shouldn’t be shocked in the slightest by who I see talking to Miller near the porch steps, but come on.
“Mother?” I hiss, blinking several times to make sure she’s really there.
“Gwendolyn! Oh, darling.” She rushes up the steps and throws her arms around me. “I knew you’d be fine, but just had to see for myself.” She glares at J.T. “Thank God I hired a P.I. to follow the first P.I. I’d hired. And had my very own pilot waiting to fly me up to the little airstrip here.”
“You...what?” J.T. asks, his eyes bugging out.
“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t tell me when I’m needed,” Mother says with a sigh. “Nobody ever wants me to join in the fun until after the fireworks.”
“Because we had it on lockdown, ma’am!” J.T. slaps his thigh, his mustache twitching. “And you could’ve done better for your money with the other guy. I shook him halfway up here hours ago. Not much of a night driver, apparently.”
Mother shakes her head. “Good
help is tremendously hard to find. But I knew where you were headed.”
J.T. takes a step toward her. “May, listen up, you can’t go gallivanting onto an active crime scene like—”
“Crime scene? Last time I checked, this was still my cabin. Even if she’s a little worse for wear and needs a change of perfume.” She wrinkles her nose, waving her hand in front of her face for effect. “Lord, I hope that gas hasn’t soaked through the floorboards...”
“Let me handle that too, please.” J.T. says sternly. “The carpet’s also evidence the sheriff will want on file once he gets here with his boys to take the trash away.”
“You know perfectly well I’m not helpless. My very own interior designer has worked miracles in–”
“Stop!” I yell, stepping between them. I’ve had enough. “None of this matters right now, Mother. Everybody’s safe. They’ve got them tied up. The renovations can wait.”
They both blink. I glance at the people tied up and walk down the steps to stand next to Miller.
“Sheriff’s on his way,” Miller says. “Just taking damn near forever. He has to come from the other end of the county.”
“It’s one of the biggest in the state,” I tell him, slipping my hand into his as footsteps echo behind me.
“Ah, the man of the hour. Miller, come here, you have to see this,” Mother says, holding up her phone. “Over five hundred thousand views and counting. And it’s only been live for an hour.”
“What views?” I ask.
“People are kicking it around like a hot potato on every social media site,” she says. “Hundreds of shares already.”
“Of what?” I demand again, this time looking at Miller.
He shakes his head. “No clue what she’s talking about, babe.”
“Some very interesting data was sent anonymously to a full-service marketing agency with a soft spot for a little vigilante justice. They knew the best way to get it out there with no chance of any cover-ups.” Mother grins. “It’s all about hashtags now. They’re calling it #MedervaSickos, but I personally adore the new one I saw trending a few minutes ago – #JackietheRipper.”
“The what?” Jackie Wren snarls, lifting her head, visibly unnerved.
“Calm down, dear, you’ve secured your fifteen minutes of unholy fame right alongside Enron and Ted Bundy,” Mother says, turning her nose up in the air. “Along with a very prominent Oregon politician, who was arrested on the tarmac just now before he could take off for Hong Kong.”
“No!” Jackie’s cruel mouth turns into a ring of horror. She struggles against the restraints binding her hands together and thumps her tied feet against the porch floor. “You can’t do that to him. You can’t!” She glares up at Miller. “You really should’ve taken the money and run, you ungrateful fool. Do you have any idea where this little crusade of yours ends? You’re making enemies who’ll put a price on your head for double anything I stupidly offered.”
He shakes his head, not a hint of fear in his eyes. Even though my blood hums with nerves, I love this defiant, unshakable man more than ever. “This was never about money, Jackie. You’re a slow goddamn learner.”
She kicks her feet against the porch floor harder. “Everything’s about money!”
“Not this time.” Miller glances at the big police SUV coming up the driveway, flanked by a couple smaller cars. “You’d better save some breath. Looks like the sheriff’s here. You can explain it to him while you enjoy your first day rotting behind bars.”
“I didn’t do anything illegal!” Jackie roars, turning her face to the sky, the veins on her neck bulging. “Anyone can donate their bodies to science.”
Miller’s face turns to cold stone. “Those bodies weren’t donated, you Dracula bitch. You were buying them off murderers and selling them piece by piece to line your own pockets.”
Disgust roils my stomach. There’s a patch of stinging nettles on the ground.
I can’t fathom how he’s remaining so calm, so peaceful, when all I can imagine is snatching those weeds up and jabbing the thorns in Jackie’s remorseless face.
She strains mightily in her chains one more time, flashing us both a hateful look, and then goes limp with her face pointed at the ground. “You idiot. You asshole. You don’t even know what you’ve ruined.”
“Wrong. I know more than I ever wanted, and so does the entire world now. It’s all there in the data that’s being released,” Miller growls, storming over. He looks so huge standing over her, his shadow long and dark across her sour face in the early morning light. “And while we’re talking about ruining things, here’s one more lesson.”
He bends near her feet and swipes off – her shoes? Huh?
“Wait, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no – no!” Her face goes pale, tortured, as she watches Miller carry her expensive looking heels all the way to the dock.
I learn one more thing today. Sometimes the dull sound of a splash – two of them – can be enough to rip out someone’s soul.
The sheriff’s vehicles finally stop, and several men are making their way to the porch by the time Miller comes back, grinning with his eyes. An ambulance follows, parking behind them.
A couple of Jackie’s men could use medical attention. The one I’d punched and kicked has been staring at me, craning his throat.
I’ve never purposefully hit someone before. In theory, I should feel bad, but for this monster? I just can’t. Thinking about how he snatched Lauren and started running makes me want to punch and kick him again.
“J.T. Riggs?” the sheriff asks. “Is that you or are my old eyes lyin’?”
“The one and only!” J.T. holds his hand out to the sheriff, his greying mustache bobbing. “Been too long.”
“What in the hell are you doing way up here in my neck of the woods?” the sheriff asks while shaking hands. “And what’s with these snakes you’ve got wriggling on stakes? You playing vigilante again, J.T.?”
“Got a real doozy on our end. Get ready for reporters, Sheriff, you’re gonna need to tell the hotels and lodges in town to expect major company soon.” J.T. takes hold of Miller’s elbow. “This here’s Miller Rush, and I just helped him take down a dragon...”
He introduces Miller to the sheriff as the three of them walk off toward the cars, out of hearing range.
It’s the first time it really feels like this might be coming to an end.
God.
Sure, it’s hardly the end of the beginning. I know a case like this will bring weeks of work over the next few months, maybe even years. But if it’s Miller leading the charge with sworn statements and high-powered prosecution cases, and not Miller playing action hero...
I can’t help but smile.
The sheriff waves at his deputies, directing them to help cover the EMTs while they assess injuries, without untying anyone just yet. I step out of the way and follow Mother back to the porch.
Mother wraps an arm around my waist and encourages me to move inside, back into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “We’re safe. For realsies, I mean.”
Mother gives me a look like she’s offended I’d even second guess her handiwork. “Leave everything to me. If you’re still worried about that woman and her threats, give it a day. She’ll be singing a very different tune.”
“Hope you’re right. I guess J.T. really knows his stuff getting this out there. Just in the nick of time.”
“J.T.? Oh, no, he facilitated communications, but he wasn’t my main contact with this lovely PR push.” She pauses for dramatic effect, more than a little mischief in her eyes. “That was your old friend Manny Stork.”
My heart jumps up in my throat. “Manny? Get. Out.”
Mother winks. “From the hospital bed, no less, where they’re still helping him with complications from his broken ribs. Anonymously. Said he couldn’t pass up a chance to settle the score with a woman who’d put him in the hospital with no one to sue.”
A flash of something I can’
t even define flares inside me. “Mother, Manny’s dumb ideas are the reason we’re in the middle of this.”
She grins. “I know, bless his greedy little heart. Don’t hold a grudge, dear. He’s handed you a nice tall drink of hubba-hubba complete with munchkins, Gwendolyn. And now he’s learning to clean up his own mess for once. We got very lucky.”
I open my mouth to protest, then close it.
She’s not wrong.
Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter when truth turns out stranger than fiction.
Sometimes, it just drives you freaking crazy.
18
Just Rewards (Miller)
The sun is up by the time J.T. and I drag ourselves out of the sheriff’s office.
Now we have almost an hour’s drive back to the cabin. Gingersnap wasn’t kidding when she said these northern Minnesota counties were huge.
Part of me actually looks forward to the drive back, winding through rough, narrow roads tucked in shadowy pines and birch trees with just the odd yellow Moose Crossing sign breaking up the scenery.
It’s almost fucking over. We survived.
Manny’s data dump worked better than I dreamed. His marketing people knew what bits and pieces to throw together into online videos for maximum effect. Now it’s gone so viral it’s hitting the cable news circuit, and arrests on the West Coast have already been made.
Later today, life will get very interesting for some leeches in Congress.
Keith called a short while ago. It was damn good to hear his voice, even as he raved about how his eel of a lawyer must’ve been a miracle worker. The bloodhounds who’d been pushing them deeper and deeper into the Ecuadorian forests for weeks disappeared almost overnight.
I’ll call him later, tell him the truth.
Right now, the sheriff thinks the only thing Gwen and May had to do with this escapade is renting me the cabin. J.T. Riggs is smooth as silk and silver-tongued.
Hard to believe we started out thinking all we’d need were a few dark flights overseas and a fake wife.
We were in over our heads but running too scared to realize it.