Fractured Eden (24 page)

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Authors: Steven Gossington

BOOK: Fractured Eden
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Chapter 46

 

 

Monday evening arrived, ten days after Buck Bogarty’s hot rod accident. As agreed, Aaron drove to the Bogarty’s house to check on Buck.

As he approached the house, Aaron saw a man barge in through the front door.

Aaron hopped out of his car, heard shouting from inside the house, and sprinted to the open door.

In the living room, a muscular man dragged a struggling Sandra toward the front door. He whipped around, pointing a gun at Aaron’s chest.

Aaron gasped, stepped back, and held up his hands.

“Who are you?” the man said. “You’re not a cop, are you?”

Aaron’s voice squeaked. “No.”

A bare-chested Buck jogged into the room and stopped. “Dad. What’s goin’ on?”

“I need your mother to be with me. I’m on the run, and I’ve got to get out of here. They might be watching the house.”

“Let go of me,” Sandra yelled. “Go away and leave us alone.”

“You be still, or I’ll shoot somebody.” He motioned his gun at Aaron. “Who’s this guy?”

“He’s a doctor, Lee,” Sandra said. “He’s here to help Buck.” She was short of breath. “Don’t shoot. Just leave, please.”

“What do you need Mom for? Let her go and take me.” Buck stepped toward his father.

“Stay away. You don’t understand.”

“I need to talk to you,” Buck said.

With his gun, Lee motioned Aaron over to Buck. “Stay right there. I don’t want to hurt anybody, but I will if I have to.” He pulled Sandra toward the front door.

Buck extended his hands toward his father. “I have to talk—”

“Drop your weapon.” A man in a police uniform leaned into the front doorway, his handgun pointed at Buck’s father. “Drop it. Now.”

Sandra screamed, twisted out of his hold, and fell to the floor. Lee straightened up and raised his gun toward the officer.

Aaron saw a flash and heard a pop. Lee groaned and fell to the floor on his back, the gun tumbling from his hand.

“Dad.” Buck ran to his father, with Aaron right behind him. He kneeled and lifted his head. “Dad. Talk to me.”

A red stain was spreading at the center of Lee’s chest. Opening his eyes, he focused on Buck and wheezed as he tried to breath. “I don’t think . . . we’re going . . . to have that talk.” He struggled to breathe.

“Hang on. Stay with me, please.”

“I’m sorry, Son.” Lee coughed and gurgled as blood trickled out of his mouth. “I made . . . a mess of things.”

“Don’t die. I’m not ready.”

“Be better than me . . . like your mom . . . not like me.” Staring at Buck, he gasped for air and blood gushed out over his chin and neck. His eyes glazed over after one final chest rattle, and his head fell back, limp in Buck’s hand. 

Buck looked up at Aaron. “No. He can’t be dead.”

Aaron felt for a carotid pulse in the neck. “His heart’s stopped. Let me do CPR.” He looked up at the officer. “Can you call 911?”

Buck moaned as he eased his father to the floor.

Aaron began CPR.

“It’s not goin’ to work, is it?” Buck asked Aaron.

Aaron shook his head as he compressed the chest. “CPR rarely works in this situation. His heart’s already gone.”

Buck rocked back and forth, his hand on his forehead, until the paramedics arrived.

Buck’s father was declared dead, there on the living room floor.

                                                       

                                                        ****

 

Just after sunset the next evening, Buck walked out the back door of his house and sat down in a chair on the patio. He’d been in his bedroom all day.

Sandra came up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to see that. You’ve been through so much.”

Buck was quiet.

Sandra leaned closer. “He was a wicked man. You’re not like him.”

Buck shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either. I never understood him.”

Buck looked up at her. “I don’t understand what’s happenin’ to me.”

Sandra stood up straight and let out a breath.
What can I do for him?
she thought. She massaged his shoulders.
Maybe Dr. Rovsing can help.

                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         
Chapter 47

 

 

Across town that Tuesday, Constable Keller Greevy stopped when he heard a noise.

It was seven days after Keller had announced that he was reopening the case of the death of Stella’s son. He was about to open the door to the interview room near his office when Brad Benningham stepped in front of him.

Brad pointed his finger at Keller. “This is your last chance. We should come to an agreement and avoid all this trouble. Like our prior arrangements.”

Keller glared at Brad. “No. No more. The next time you try to pull that, I’ll arrest you for attempting to bribe an officer of the law.”

Brad snorted. “That’d just get both of us into trouble.”

“I guess it would.”

Keller pushed past Brad and walked into the room.

After a short while, five people sat around a square table. Keller presided from the largest plush chair at the head of the table. To Keller’s right: Stella, then Myra, Brad, and Preston Benningham. Brad sat next to Preston at one side of the table.

Brad fidgeted in his chair. Stella was calm, with a faint smile.

Keller opened a folder in front of him. “I’ve reviewed all the reports filed concerning the death of Stella’s son two years ago. Apparently, a drug deal was in progress in an alley in town. One of the parties became confrontational, and several shots were fired. Witnesses say the shots were from handguns. The group dispersed in different directions, and Stella’s son was found down close to the alley. He’d been shot, and he died from his wound.”

Keller glanced at Brad and Preston. “Do you have any details to add?”

Brad shook his head. “No. That jives with what the news said.”

“I don’t remember much about that night. I did hear some gunshots,” Preston said.

Keller crossed his arms. “I’d like to clear up an inconsistency.”

“Ask me anything,” Brad said.

“One of the witnesses thought that you were there.”

Brad’s eyes flew open. “Me? No way.”

Preston looked at Brad. “I get flashback memories of that night, and sometimes I think you’re behind me.”

Brad dropped his head.

Preston’s eyes widened. “Yes, I see you behind me just before my gun fired.”

Brad looked at Keller and raised his palms. “All right. All right. I was there. I often followed Preston when I was worried about him.”

Preston lifted his hand. “Dad, I remember now. You tried to take my gun from me, and then it went off.”

Brad pounded the table and shot up out of his chair. “I was trying to help you, to get you out of there.” He leaned on the table and glared at Keller and then Stella. “Why do we have to dredge all this up? Why?” His chest heaved and his fists were clenched.

Preston sat back and looked down. Myra’s hands covered her cheeks.

Stella stared back at Brad, who put his hand to his forehead. He had trouble voicing his words. “I can’t imagine losing a child, an only child.”

Preston stood and put his hand on Brad’s arm. “Dad, it’s okay.”

Brad bowed his head and moaned. “I don’t know if it is.”

“We can get through this. I can help you.”

Brad sat down with his head on his forearms. “I’m so sorry.”

Keller met Stella’s eyes. “Now, we know the truth,” he said.

“Yes.”

“What was your son doing there?”

She sighed. “I think to buy drugs, just like Preston.”  

Keller scanned the group. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”

Preston and Stella shook their heads.

“Stella, do you want to pursue this further?”

She looked down at the table. “No.”

Keller turned to Preston. “Do you still have a handgun?”

Preston shook his head. “No, and I never will again.”

“You had a weapon in your hand and it was discharged in the setting of an illegal drug deal. I could arrest you for manslaughter.”

Preston nodded. “I know.”

Keller stared at Preston, then he sighed and slapped the table. “My judgment is homicide by misadventure, accidental homicide.” He scribbled the verdict on paper and shut the folder. “This case is closed.”

He stood and glanced at Preston. “You’re free to go.”

                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         
Chapter 48

 

 

Something caught the corner of Aaron’s eye as he walked down the hallway toward a patient room. He spotted a moving figure in the waiting area, a woman with long, bright white hair passing through the front door.
I’ve seen her before.

Aaron backtracked to the registration desk and motioned to Stella. “I saw a woman just leave. Who is she?”

Stella furrowed her brow and glanced at the front door. “I don’t recall anyone just now.” She studied the patient list on her computer screen. “No, I’ve put the last two patients scheduled for today into rooms, and they’re both men, and we’ve had no recent walk-ins.”

Aaron stood with his mouth half open, closed his eyes, and shook his head to clear the fuzziness.

“Are you sure about that?” Stella said.

Aaron took a deep breath and exhaled. “I must’ve been mistaken.”

 

Stella locked the front door of the clinic and stood outside with Aaron. Dark clouds were gathering above them.

“You haven’t mentioned your meeting with Constable Keller and Preston Benningham,” Aaron said.

Stella sighed. “We found out what really happened.”

“What?”

“Brad tried to grab Preston’s gun, and it went off. He was trying to save his son.”

Aaron whistled. “So that’s the way it was.”

“I’ve been thinking about it, and if I’d been in his shoes, I might’ve done the same thing.”

 

Rain pelted Aaron’s car as he drove home from work that Thursday afternoon. “A tornado watch is in effect for the following counties . . .,” a voice from the radio said.

Aaron peered out his car windows at dark clouds hovering in the sky. He pulled into his garage and Red, his new dog, greeted him at the door, though with less than his usual exuberance. Aaron let him out in the bushes near the front door to do his business, which didn’t take long. Red shook his wet body and stayed glued to Aaron as they went up to the living room window. Aaron caught his breath. An enormous black cloud blanketed the sky across from his house.

His eyes widened. Not far away, a funnel stretched from the cloud to the ground.

Aaron jogged toward the bedroom. “Come on, Red. Let’s get in the bathtub.” He pulled a mattress off his bed and dragged it into the bathroom.
I’ll take one more look.

He ran to the living room and gasped. The tornado had at least doubled in width and seemed closer.

Oh, man. This looks bad.
Debris whirled around outside the funnel.
It must be right over the town
.
I’ll bet people are videoing this monster.

“Let’s get to cover.” He and Red ran back and settled into the bathtub, and Aaron yanked the mattress over the two of them.

He hugged his shivering dog. “It’s okay, buddy. We’ll be all right.” Noise from the tornado was faint at first but soon swelled to a deafening howl.

 

                                                        ****

 

Grant Belkin stood with his cows at Aaron’s backyard fence. He pressed his hat against the top of his head and shielded his eyes from the rain as he watched the tornado swirl and blast its way toward Aaron’s house.

When it reached the Benningham property across Aaron’s street, the twister hesitated and then veered west away from the Benningham mansion, avoiding Aaron’s neighborhood and carving a path straight into the Big Thicket.

                                         

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