exposed (Twisted Cedar Mysteries Book 3) (23 page)

But Dougal wasn’t here to hold Ed accountable for his actions.

“Let me have Chester.”

“I
told
you to be patient.” Ed was slowly moving away from Chester and closer to the ledge. He nodded at Dougal, as if he should follow. Was Ed planning to kill him, then toss his body out to sea?

Instead of doing Ed’s bidding, Dougal started toward Chester.

“Stop!” Ed pointed his gun at the boy. “I’ll kill him if you move any closer.”

Dougal froze. “You promised to return him unharmed.”

“And I will. As long as you do as I instruct.”

Dougal let his arms drop to his sides. “Okay. Instruct me.”

“Just stay exactly where you are. In exactly one minute I’m going to toss this gun into the sea. At that point you will have a choice. You can either go to Chester. Or you can come after me.”

Dougal shook his head, trying to figure out the trap, because he knew his father had an angle. He always did.

“If you run to Chester, you’ll give me enough time to run and escape. Don’t let my age deceive you, I have kept myself in excellent physical condition. I also have the perfect strategy worked out. If you let me go now, neither you nor the law will ever see me again.”

“Of course,” Ed continued. “You could just push me over the cliff, too. Later you could claim it was an accident.”

Dougal stared at him in horror.

“What? I can see the hatred in your eyes. Don’t try to pretend you wouldn’t like to see me dead and out of your life. Forever.”

As Dougal stared at his father, he realized the rain had stopped. Improbably the sky had lightened enough that he could see his father’s eyes. Eyes that everyone said were so like his own.

Growing up as Ed Lachlan’s son he’d always felt as if he was on the precipice of a black hole. He’d been certain that if he ever tried to get inside his father’s head, he’d fall right into that hole and never come up again.

But he’d been wrong. Because he’d spent the past intense week living inside his father’s deepest and darkest thoughts. He’d chronicled Ed Lachlan’s story and he’d come out the other side.

Now here he was, with the man he hated most in the world and he felt no urge to push, to kill, to obliterate.

Charlotte had spoken the words to him so many times.

Only now did he finally believe them.

You are not him.

“Throw away the gun,” he challenged his father. “See what happens.”

Ed gave him a nod.

And then he did it, he actually tossed his gun out into the Pacific. For just a second Dougal hesitated. But only a second.

And then he was running for Chester, scooping the boy into his arms and checking his vital signs. Only once he’d determined that his father had been telling the truth and that the boy was merely drugged into a stupor, did he glance up to see where Ed had gone.

But Ed hadn’t gone anywhere. He was still on the ledge. And he was smiling.

“Katie was the only person who ever saw any good in me. She was the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world. When she asked me to leave her, it killed me. I would have never hurt her. Or you. Or your sister.”

Then Ed Lachlan turned and jumped off the cliff.

Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window while Jamie and Cory emptied the dishwasher. She felt she ought to be helping, but her body and her heart felt leaden. She wished Dougal had permitted her to accompany him. He shouldn’t be facing his father alone.

Outside a weak ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, turning the raindrops clinging to the blades of grass on the side lawn into a million sparkling diamonds. Was that a good sign?

And then her phone rang. She snatched it up.

“I’ve got Chester.” Dougal sounded out of breath, but okay. “He’s been drugged with ketamine but other than that he seems fine. I’d take him to a clinic but I think it will be better for him to be home.”

“Yes. Bring him home.”

Jamie and Cory crowded beside her. Jamie squeezed her shoulder, while Cory whispered, “What’s happening?”

“Will do,” Dougal said. “See you soon.”

Realizing he’d disconnected, Charlotte set down the phone and turned to her niece.

“Dougal’s bringing Chester home. They’ll be here, soon.” As she said the words, she realized she couldn’t quite believe they were true.

“Oh, thank God, thank God.” Jamie cried as she hugged first Charlotte and then Cory.

And then all three of them were having a big group hug. Charlotte could feel her heart expanding, and at the same time becoming lighter, as she shed the thousand fears and worries she’d carried the past, long week.

“I’m not going to be able to believe it until I actually see him.”

“Me, too,” Jamie agreed.

“Let’s wait outside,” Cory suggested.

By the time they’d slipped on their shoes, Charlotte could hear a vehicle approaching. She linked arms with Jamie and Cory, and they went out to the porch like that, as a team. A family.

As Dougal’s vehicle nosed past the media circus outside their house, suddenly Deputy Field stepped forward to clear a path for Dougal. As he swept Chester into his arms, cameras flashed and reporters shouted out questions, but Dougal ignored them all.

“Oh my God, Chester’s practically comatose!” Jamie cried as Dougal came round to the back porch.

Dougal sought out Charlotte’s gaze, with a message she didn’t understand, other than to realize that while Chester might be home, something bad had happened out there.

As Dougal lifted the boy, Charlotte reached for Chester’s head, needing to touch him and reassure herself he was real. His hair was soaked through from the rain, as was the grey hoodie he was wearing.

“How much of that drug was he given?”

“Not sure. But I called 911 before I called you. Paramedics should be here shortly.”

Gently Dougal set her nephew down on the chaise lounge. Cory dropped to her knees beside her brother and put her hands on his face.

“Wake up Chester.”

Her brother’s eyelids fluttered, then opened. Charlotte gasped when she saw his eyes were moving in rapid, jerking motions.

“It’s the ketamine,” Dougal murmured. “Don’t worry, it’s not serious.”

Charlotte crouched beside her niece, touching Chester’s face, the side of his neck. “You’re home Chester. You’re home and you’re safe.”

Jamie had run inside and now she returned with a glass of water. Charlotte immediately tried to get Chester to drink. To her relief, when he felt the glass press against his lips, he automatically took a sip.

“Good, keep drinking honey. It will help get rid of the drugs.” As she kissed his cheek, she was dimly aware that a siren was growing progressively louder.

The next hour was mayhem. First the paramedics swarmed Chester, checking his vital signs, testing his level of consciousness and listening to his heart and lungs.

Along with the paramedics, came the FBI and Dougal stepped aside with them for a long discussion. Once that was done with, Chester was already much improved. He asked to use the washroom, then he changed into a clean sweat suit and allowed Charlotte to towel dry and brush his hair.

Charlotte was relieved when Chester asked for something to eat. She made him his favorite toasted cheese and tomato sandwich and also filled a glass with milk.

“Anyone else hungry?”

But no one was. All they wanted was to be near Chester, to reassure themselves that he was truly here, home and safe. When Chester took a stool at the island, Jamie and Cory flanked him, Cory sitting so close to her twin that their shoulders touched.

Dougal however, was hanging out in the eating alcove, watching out the window as if he was expecting someone. Charlotte couldn’t tell if he was more relieved, or saddened. While the paramedics were examining Chester, he’d told her about his father’s suicide. She wanted to comfort him—if that was what he needed.

But she wasn’t ready to let Chester out of her sight.

Chester devoured the sandwich like he hadn’t eaten all day.

“Did that man give you any food?” Cory asked.

“The lady cooked regular food for us. But the man gave me chips and Cokes.”

“The lady?” Charlotte asked.

“The cleaning lady,” Chester elaborated.

“Liz Brooks?” Jamie prompted.

Chester nodded.

“Is that where you were? In Liz Brooks’ trailer?”

“I guess so.”

Charlotte glanced pointedly at both Jamie and Dougal. So Wade had been correct. But where was Liz now?

“She was nice,” Chester continued. “She kept telling him to let me go. But the old guy—he said to call him Ed—he wouldn’t do it.”

“Did he—hurt you?” The paramedics had given her nephew the all-clear, but Charlotte needed to be sure.

“No.” Chester shrugged.

“Were you scared?” Cory asked.

Chester hesitated, and his gaze dropped to the island. “The man told me he wasn’t going to hurt me. But in movies, whenever the bad guys say that, they’re always lying.”

“Oh, honey.” Charlotte couldn’t stand to think of the agonies he’d suffered. She looked over to where Dougal had been standing, to thank him for all he’d done to save her nephew.

But Dougal was no longer standing by the window. He wasn’t in the room, period.

* * *

When Dougal, keeping vigil at the kitchen window, spotted the sheriff’s SUV pulling up to the Hammond house, he quietly exited and went out to greet him.

He’d reported Ed Lachlan’s suicide when he’d called 911 earlier, and he’d already given a preliminary statement to the FBI. But he figured, eventually Wade would check in with them.

And now, here he was.

“Hey Dougal,” Wade stepped out of the SUV looking the way Dougal felt right now. As if he’d just gone ten rounds with Rocky Balboa. “How’s Chester?”

“Inside. The paramedics have checked him over and he’s doing amazingly well. Having a sandwich as we speak.”

“That’s a huge relief.”

“It is.”

Wade stopped a few feet in front of him. “I’m not sure what to say about your dad. I’m guessing you’re not interested in condolences.”

Dougal shook his head. “I’m having trouble processing it. Of all the ways I pictured today going down, having Ed commit suicide wasn’t one of them. I’m still trying to figure out if there was some way he faked it, and is now in a luxury jet headed for Costa Rica.”

“No. He didn’t fake anything—his body was recovered about half-an-hour ago. He had ID on him for Ed Lachlan, Monty Monroe, and Brian Greenway. We’ll be running his prints to make sure we’ve got the right guy though.”

“Oh, he was my father, I have no doubt about that. But I still can’t believe he offed himself. I figured he’d want to hang around and enjoy his hour of fame. Or should I say hour of notoriety.”

“I guess he figured with the book out there, his legacy was taken care of.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.” Dougal was tempted to pull the book out of circulation right there and then. But with so many copies already sold, what was the point? The story, for better or worse, was in the public domain, just as Ed had so desperately wished.

“How about Liz Brooks? Chester just told us they were at her trailer the entire time.”

“I found her shortly after I left here this morning. Ed had been holding both Liz and Chester hostage in Liz’s trailer. She’s okay now, but when Ed left to make the exchange he tied her up pretty tight.”

“But she wasn’t hurt?”

“No.”

Dougal let out a long, relieved sigh. He couldn’t say he liked Liz, exactly. But he would have felt awful if anything had happened to her.

“But—” Wade continued, “—today could have ended in catastrophe. You should have called the FBI when Ed contacted you.”

“Yeah. They just said the same thing.”

“Or at least me.”

“You’re pissed. I get that. But I couldn’t risk not following Ed’s instructions to the letter.”

Wade shook his head. “You think Ed is the first kidnapper to demand you meet him alone? We’re trained to handle that crap, man.”

Dougal said nothing. He didn’t begrudge Wade letting off some steam. But he wasn’t going to apologize for handling the situation the way he had.

“You’re a stubborn bastard,” Wade finally said. “But it’s done. And Chester’s home again. I suppose that’s what matters.”

“Yup.” Did Wade believe if his team had been involved Ed might be alive and in custody? If so, he was too much of a gentleman to say so.

“Okay if I step inside for a few minutes?” Wade asked.

“Sure. Come on in.”

Dougal led the way through to the kitchen. A tired smile softened the stern lines of Wade’s face when he took in the tight cluster of family around the island.

“Hey, Chester, it sure is good to have you back home where you belong.”

Dougal was surprised when, instead of smiling back at the sheriff, Chester’s eyes filled with tears.

Wade noticed too. He moved closer to the boy, leaning down so they were eye-level. “What’s wrong son?”

“I shouldn’t be home. I should be in jail.”

Dougal wondered if the kid was in shock. Or having some sort of delusion.

Charlotte inserted herself protectively between Chester and the sheriff. “Of course you shouldn’t be in jail Chester. You’ve just been through a terrible experience. But it wasn’t your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She tried to hug him, but Chester rejected her attempts to comfort him.

“My dad’s in jail because of me! I was the one who pushed my mom. Not Dad. I made her fall, and that’s why she died.”

At first Dougal couldn’t even process what he was saying. Around him the others seemed to feel the same way.

Wade recovered first. “You’re talking about something that happened when you were only two years old, Chester. You couldn’t possibly remember.”

“I do remember. I just didn’t figure it all out until I got older.” Chester plucked a piece of cotton fluff from his pant leg. “I remember them fighting that night. It was loud and I was scared. So I got out of bed and went downstairs.”

Wade glanced at Charlotte, as if seeking her permission to continue the conversation. Charlotte hesitated, then nodded.