A Memory Worth Dying For (34 page)

The elevator bumped to a stop, and Daniel dragged himself out the door and down the hall to the mass of people sitting in the waiting room. He didn’t see any of them. All he could think about was hiding away somewhere. A place where there was no one to ask him questions or remind him of the past. A place where he could think and relive things he vowed he’d never remember again.

Daniel stormed out the emergency room exit but stopped when he heard someone calling his name. He turned around and saw Veronica running toward him from the double doors.

“Daniel, wait! Where are you going? Daddy told me you were here.”

“Not now, Nikki. I can’t talk now.”

“Wait, Daniel. Let me come with you.”

“No.”

She stiffened and stared at him. “What’s the matter?”

Daniel turned his back toward her. He ran his fingers through his hair and turned to face her. Fury flushed through his face. “I remember everything—that’s what’s the matter. You lied to me, Nikki. You said we’ve been dating—since high school. You even said we dated regularly during college and made plans years ago to get married. None of that was true. I feel like a fool.”

Veronica’s face looked like a statue, but fear flickered in her eyes. She pushed her way into his personal space and lifted her head to bat her eyelashes up at him. “Oh, Daniel, I wanted to help you heal. I started telling you those things, thinking you’d remember the truth if I shocked you, but when you didn’t . . . well . . . I guess I started believing it all.”

“You knew Marti was my ex-wife too, didn’t you?”

Veronica nodded. The beginnings of tears pooled in her eyes. “She wasn’t right for you, Daniel, and she proved it by the way she acted. I . . . I didn’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”

Disbelief bubbled up inside him. “Like that was your decision, Veronica. Give me credit for being able to make my own decisions.”

“Well, you sure didn’t make the right one the first time, and look what she did to you. I didn’t want you to get attached to her again.”

Behind her, Daniel saw Shane walking toward them from the parking lot.

Daniel looked back at Veronica. “Well, you’ve got your wish. I’m not attached—to Marti or to you. We’re done.”

Veronica clung to his arm. “No, Daniel, please. Think about Chris. Sweet, little Chris. Think about what this will do to him. Please think about that. We can make it. I know we can. I’ll change. I’ll do anything you want me to, just please don’t turn away from us.”

Daniel looked at the tearful, hurt expression on her face, and pity bubbled up inside him. “There is no ‘us,’ Veronica. There never has been.” He turned her around and handed her into the arms of her father. Her tears fell then, and she slumped into her father’s embrace.

Shane’s eyes were full of hatred, but he said nothing.

SIXTY-EIGHT

DANIEL PARKED HIS TRUCK HALFWAY
in the driveway and halfway in the barnyard. The back bumper hogged most of the driveway, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was solitude—to sort out all the pain and memories overwhelming his thoughts. To pray to a God whom he now remembered. A God who gave him peace and comfort after Angie died. A God who loved him and wanted the best for him. A God he had forgotten for months.

He strode into the house and sought the privacy and quietness of the downstairs study where he closed the door firmly. The leather chair faced the floor to ceiling windows and had a perfect view of the mountains. He slumped in the seat and turned toward the sky.

All the memories came flooding back. The cute little barrel racer at the rodeo. Their first date. His proposal after the quarter horse picnic. Four wonderful years of marriage. He hung his head in his hands—remembering the feeling of devastation when Marti had gone three years ago. He’d turned to Marti’s God for comfort and guidance. Where was God now? Was He with him the whole time he had amnesia? Was he still able to call on Him for help, comfort, and guidance?

“God? Are you there? I remember trusting you now. I remember turning to You for help. I gave You my life, Lord. I knew then, like I know now, that I’m a sinner. I’ve broken your commandments. But, Lord, I repented of my sins. I accepted the fact that you died for me, and that you were buried and rose again as a sacrifice for my sins. I remember accepting you as my Savior so You would save me from an eternity in hell. I’m sorry I forgot you, Lord. Please help me. Please give me strength to know Your will for me now. Only You can help me, Lord.”

Despair and confusion filled the air circling his head. He was oblivious to the world around him until he heard a soft click.

He looked up to see his father limp into the room—the crutches awkward and cumbersome. Daniel sat up straight in the chair—still angry at the manipulative actions his father had taken and yet anxious about his condition after the accident in the barn. He wrestled with both emotions, unable to speak.

Gerald stopped beside the chair where Daniel sat and put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Son, I know you’re angry with me, but I have some things that need saying.” Gerald propped the crutches on the edge of the couch and gingerly sat down on the soft cushion.

“Yes, son, I brought Marti here on purpose, hoping she would help stimulate your memory. Marti didn’t want to stay, Daniel. She knew you would hate her if you remembered why she left in the first place. But, she stayed for
you
. Even though you hurt her—”

“Hurt
her
! She’s the one who—”

“Stop, Daniel. Please. Let me finish. Marti . . . uh . . . she came here under false pretenses. I have to confess, I told her you were dying and wanted to see her one last time.”

Gerald looked chagrined.

Daniel sucked in a quick breath then blew it out in frustration. He didn’t reply, and Gerald continued.

“Now that you can remember your marriage to Marti, you have to admit the deep love you felt for each other. I was hoping you would remember the closeness between the two of you and not the unpleasant last few days.”

Daniel wasn’t prepared for, nor did he welcome, the compassion he saw in his father’s eyes. Daniel raised burning eyes and looked out the window.

Gerald continued. “But there’s something I need to tell you now that has nothing to do with why Marti is here and has everything to do with why she left in the first place. We were wrong, Daniel. Marti wasn’t the cause of the accident that killed your sister.”

The anger in Daniel’s eyes made them burn. “What do you mean? She was drinking and driving, and—”

Gerald shook his head. “No, Daniel. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. An insurance investigator named Amber Pike came to see me about discrepancies in the accident report from your sister’s accident. According to their re-opened investigation, Marti could not have been driving that night. Her DNA was all over the back seat of the car, and . . . Vinny’s DNA was found on several places in the front seat area . . . and on the bottles of whiskey.”

Daniel was stunned. “What?”

Gerald nodded. “She wasn’t driving, Daniel, and she wasn’t drinking.”

“Then why did Mary—?”

“We don’t know, and we’ll probably never know. Mary lied. Ms. Pike says the ambulance driver told her that when he finally arrived at the accident scene, Marti was on the ground outside the driver’s door. Mary had already delivered the baby, and Marti was unconscious. Mary had the baby wrapped in a blanket and took it to the hospital herself.”

A tear formed in the corner of Daniel’s eye, and he brushed it away.

“Listen, Daniel. The other things Mary told us may not be true either. We don’t know that Marti—”

A knock sounded on the library door and interrupted Gerald’s speech.

Daniel walked to the door and opened it to a surprised Parker.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know you were in the house. Ms. Pike and Mr. Simmons are here to see Mr. Gerald.”

Daniel turned to Gerald. “Brent Simmons? The police? Why, Dad?”

Gerald turned to Parker. “Bring them in here, Parker.” To Daniel he said, “I hope they’re here to clear up some things.”

SIXTY-NINE

SHANE PEEKED AROUND THE STAIRWELL
door leading from the basement of the hospital to the information desk. He glanced both ways before quietly opening the door. He stepped into the reception area with a paper bag in his hand. An orderly pushed a lunch cart toward the other end of the hallway with his head hung low, but the information desk was empty.

What luck.

He slipped over to the desk and touched the mouse to activate the screen. Quickly, he typed in Marti’s name and made a mental note of the room number.

Voices echoed down the hall as he heard the receptionist give visitors directions to the cafeteria around the corner. He exited the patient screen—so the busybody wouldn’t know someone had fooled with her computer—and headed toward the elevator. A voice bellowed from inside the elevator. The doors slid open as two nurses who were dealing with a troublesome patient pushed his wheelchair into the hall. Shane skirted around the group and pushed through the door marked “Stairs.”

Marti was on the third floor, and if he remembered right, it would be on the front side of the building. On the third floor, he opened the stairwell door an inch and peeked through the opening to see if there were nurses at the desk. The stairwell was fifty feet from the nurse’s station, but only one side of the desk was visible behind the hall wall. One black-headed nurse bent over a patient report in front of her with her back turned to the exit.

He glanced down the hall and saw his cousin Ralph standing outside Marti’s room.

He left the door open an inch and sat down on the top stair. From inside his backpack, he pulled out a throw-away phone. He punched in a phone number and covered the phone most of the way with his shirt. Trying to disguise his voice, he spoke when he heard Ralph’s “hello.”

“Ralph Dell, this is Detective Smith at the Carson City Police Station. Detective Simmons asked me to call and let you know we’ve arrested the man stalking Marti Rushing. She no longer needs a bodyguard. Gerald had to return to his ranch, but he said if you come by, he’ll write you a check. He also wants to thank you for your services.”

“Oh, great. That’s good news. I know Marti will be relieved.”

“I’m sure she will.”

Shane hung up the phone and peeked again around the stairwell door. He saw Ralph stick his head inside the door and say something to Marti, then close the door and walk down to the elevators.

When he had gone, Shane opened the door quickly, and slipped into the hall. He walked briskly toward the absorbed nurse and stopped at the fourth door from the stairs. He turned to glance both ways and make sure no one had seen him.

He squared his shoulders and lightly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Marti’s voice sounded weak.

He pushed through the door—glad to hear the weakness in her voice. “Hey there, Marti. How are you feeling, child?”

Marti scooted up in bed and scratched around the bandage on her ankle. “Hello, Mr. Duke. I think I’ve had better days.”

“Did you hear? They’ve arrested your stalker!”

“The guard just told me, but he didn’t say who it was. Do you know?”

“Uh . . . no, I don’t.”

“I’m relieved. I hope they find out why he’s been after me all this time.”

Shane scooted up beside the bed. “Daniel said the doctor called and is letting you go home finally.”

Marti’s eyes lit up. “That’s wonderful. I’m ready to get out of here.”

Shane handed her the paper bag. “Daniel’s parking the car at the check-out exit and sent these up. He said if you go ahead and get changed, he’ll pick you up there in a few minutes.”

Marti looked confused. “The nurses didn’t say anything about me leaving tonight.”

“I just saw the head nurse at the nurse’s station. She said she has the paperwork just about ready.”

“Okay,” Marti said with a shrug. She crawled out of bed and hobbled with the bag to the bathroom.

Shane tiptoed to the hallway door and peeked at the nurse’s station. The black-headed nurse was still poring over the patient reports, concentrating on the computer screen. A second nurse had her back turned to him. She had a sandwich, chips, and coke spread out around her and a paperback novel in front of her face.

Perfect. He could make this work. All he had to do was get Marti out the door.

When Marti opened the bathroom door, she was dressed in jeans and a white knit sweater. Confusion drew her brows together. “Whose clothes are these? Why didn’t Daniel bring some of my own things?”

Shane’s composure slipped a little. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe he borrowed those from somebody. You know how men are. We don’t think too clearly.”

Marti sat down on the edge of the bed.

Shane’s gaze bounced back and forth from the bed to the door. “Uh, are you ready to go?”

Marti leaned back against the pillows. “I think I’ll wait for the nurse.”

Shane cleared his throat. “I told the nurse I would help you out. Daniel can’t park at the pick-up entrance too long.”

Marti sat up in bed. A frown etched her features. “I think I’d better wait on the nurse.”

Shane blew out a labored breath. “You just had to make it difficult, didn’t you?” He pulled a tiny pistol from his pocket. “Now get up. And don’t make a sound or my friend who’s with Daniel right now will kill him immediately.”

Marti’s pale face turned ashen. “Mr. Duke? W-what are you doing?” She stared at the gun in his hand.

Shane’s anger felt like a volcano inside him. “Look, we either get moving or we stand here and answer questions while I call my buddy and tell him to shoot Daniel and throw his body in the lake. Which do you want?”

“You . . . you have Daniel?” Marti stood. “I’ll go with you, but please don’t hurt Daniel.” Her legs wobbled as she crept to the door.

Shane grabbed her arm and pointed the gun at her temple. “Now, this is how we’re gonna do this. We’re going out this door and to the left, down the hall and into the stairwell. If you make one sound to let the nurses know something is wrong, I’ll shoot you. Do you understand?”