Inevitable Sentences (30 page)

Only a few minutes had passed when the men found Wilbanks, yet it seemed like a hundred years to Max. Wilbanks’s lifeless body lay in a puddle of blood. A knife protruded from his neck. Blood spray covered the surrounding walls and soaked the furniture. A maniac let loose in a slaughterhouse could not have done worse damage.

Then Max heard Celeste whimpering. He turned to the sound. Dazed, she was pressed into the corner, eyes fixed on the body. Max rushed to her side. He hoped his face didn’t give away the horror he felt when he saw her wounds.

Her usually brilliant hair fell in blood-drenched strings matted to her head. The right side of her face had swollen so much her eye was a mere slit. Blood splattered her clothes from head to toe.

“I killed him. I killed him,” Celeste kept repeating in an eerie, low chant as she rocked back and forth.

Max knelt at Celeste’s side and took her in his arms. She collapsed willingly into him. Her entire body trembled with such force he could hardly steady her. “Quiet. Everything will be okay.” His glance lowered to the gun on the floor only inches from Celeste.

“Get a medic in here for Mrs. Brookstone. Call the coroner and tell CSI we’re ready,” Hunter barked over his handheld radio. He disconnected and turned to Max and Celeste and said, “Wilbanks won’t terrorize anyone anymore. He’s dead.”

Max nodded but said nothing. He kept his eyes focused on Celeste.

When Celeste finally recognized Max, tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “You came.” Then she began to sob uncontrollably. “You came.”

Max wiped Celeste’s tears with his gloved hand. He couldn’t release her. He was afraid she’d float away, like a ghost in his imagination. How would he ever live with himself for allowing Celeste to have gone through this horrific night? Max couldn’t hold back any longer, and he broke down and cried, too. “I’m so sorry, Celeste. I’m so sorry.” He gently kissed her swollen face, then inhaled deeply. She smelled of gunpowder, blood, and sweat. Gone was the fresh, clean scent he loved. Gone was the impish glow in her eyes. He hoped that she wouldn’t be gone from him, too. How would she survive this whole ordeal after Pilar? Would she ever be able to face the world without fear?

Max sighed deeply. How would Celeste handle the news about Priscilla’s role in this? Yet Max believed he had betrayed Celeste even more by not telling her about Chad’s relationship to Pilar. Would Celeste ever be able to trust anyone in the future, including him? He damn well would help her try. He definitely wanted his Celeste back and he’d do anything, anything to get that.

Max also believed the ordeal wouldn’t be over for a long time. Once again Celeste would have to encounter the unrelenting intrusions and questions from the press. After all she had murdered a serial killer, even if it was in self-defense. Maybe she’d even be hounded by Hollywood, some producer spotting his next heroine for a TV movie of the week. Max only wanted to get as far away from this place as possible and never come back. Had it ever been romantic? Even been happy? He barely remembered. Max held Celeste even more tightly.

T
HE TWO MEDICS PUSHED
a gurney through the kitchen and slid it alongside Celeste and Max reluctantly surrendered her to their care. But he held her hand. She attempted to squeeze it, but her hand had little strength.

One medic immediately began an examination and said, “We need to get her to the hospital pronto.”

The medics stabilized Celeste with a C-collar and carefully slid her onto a backboard. Then they gently lifted Celeste’s limp body onto the gurney and covered her in a wool blanket. She kept Max’s hand in her own. “He’s coming with me.” Even though Celeste whispered, she sounded unwavering.

“Sure,” one medic said. “He can ride along. Besides, from what I understand, he’s supposed to be in the hospital anyhow. We might as well take him.”

Max and Celeste smiled weakly at each other. Max ran alongside the medics, chest aching. He prayed he hadn’t overdone it. He’d little time that evening to consider his own condition until now, and he felt like shit. He almost looked forward to being back in the hospital. He also prayed it wouldn’t be too late for him, that he hadn’t pushed himself beyond repair. A silly thought came to him and he wondered if he could persuade the hospital administrators to let him and Celeste share a room. And do what? Talk about their aches like stereotypical seniors? Oh, who cared? He’d never let her out of his sight again. He was just thankful that they both were still alive.

When they reached the ambulance, Max stepped aside to let the medics lift Celeste into the back. Celeste’s hand fell away. She reached out and whimpered, “Don’t leave me again.” Her eyes blazed with a panic he had never seen in them before.

“Don’t worry. I’m hopping in right behind you.” It pained him more than the searing sensation in his chest to see this independent woman so frightened.

Once the medics secured Celeste and started an IV, Max, with the help of a medic, carefully lifted himself inside and sat down. The medic said, “Take off your jacket. I’m going to check your blood pressure and heart rate.”

Max didn’t resist. He knew he might be in trouble. He unbuttoned his jacket and slipped it off. As the rear door to the ambulance closed, he saw the coroner and CSI technicians entering the lighthouse. Within a few moments the ambulance sped away as fast as the icy roads allowed.

Max would never again be able to call it a safe house. He could never guarantee that Celeste would ever be out of harm’s way. Even with Wilbanks gone, other men could come looking for what they thought was rightfully theirs—their partners and children.

While the medic completed his preliminary exam of Max and made a few notes on a form clipped to a board, Celeste called out, “Max. Where are you?”

Max edged to her side and took her hand. “I’m right here. I won’t be anywhere else but by your side.”

Celeste rolled her head toward Max. Their eyes met. “You should have told me you knew about Chad, Max.” Exhausted, she obviously fought to get the words out.

Max’s heart skipped a beat. “Please forgive me. I only wanted to protect you.”

“I already knew.” Celeste breathed heavily. “I should have told you that I recognized Chad’s real identity the day I met him at Hawk Haven.”

“You knew?” Max’s mouth dropped open. “And you still came to the Upper Peninsula?”

“I had to be with you.” Celeste wheezed with each word.

“You shouldn’t talk. Save your strength,” Max said, holding back tears.

“I will, but I need to know something else.” She paused to take several breaths. “What about Priscilla? Chad said she was a part of this.” Her voice quivered.

Max knew this revelation had to be tough for Celeste. She trusted and loved Priscilla. “We don’t know anything yet. Chad killed his lover and Priscilla’s best friend …”

“Lizzie?” Even though Celeste could only whisper, she clearly sounded stunned.

“Yes. He also shot Priscilla and left her for dead. She survived, but barely. If she lives, the police will probably get answers to several questions.” Max pulled the cover up higher around Celeste’s shoulders. “If she doesn’t make it, we’ll have to let this one go. We’ll never know her reasons.”

“Still, Max, Priscilla was my friend.” Tears slid from Celeste’s half-closed eyes.

Max lightly touched her lips with his finger. “Shhh. We’ll talk about this later. It’s not important now. What does matter is that you are taken care of.” He wiped the tears with his finger.

“What about the women and children? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. They’re staying with Joan and Ned, just like you’d planned for emergencies, you smart woman. When you’re able I’ll tell you the whole story about how brave Adrian was tonight.” Max tenderly brushed Celeste’s hair away from her face. “You’ll be proud of what she did.”

“I’m already proud of her.” Celeste sighed. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to sleep. But don’t you dare go anywhere.”

Even in her condition Celeste kept her sense of humor. “I love you, Celeste,” Max whispered. “I don’t want you to ever be away from me again.”

Celeste smiled as she fell into a deep sleep. The smile remained on her lips.

Max kept hold of her hand as he rested against the wall. He vowed he would never keep anything back from Celeste again, from this moment forward. He would make sure she did the same with him.

Maybe, if they had not tried to protect each other from Chad’s relationship to Pilar, Celeste would not have been faced with the physical threat Chad had posed tonight. But it was foolish to hash over what they should have done. They could change nothing. And that included even the aftermath of Marcus’s affairs.

Max thought about the future of the safe house. Any of the residents could have attracted the kind of craziness Chad brought them tonight. They all had abusive relationships in their pasts that could invade their lives again with violence. Would Celeste see this logic, or would she give him an argument about closing the program? After all, with the press attention that tonight’s event would bring, the argument would really be moot. The safe house would be exposed to the public eye as clearly as if the old beacon were shining directly on it.

Max finally gave in to his own weariness. He, too, closed his eyes but let his thoughts wander to a dream of a happier future. Max saw Celeste puttering in their backyard garden, which basked in perpetual sunshine. Celeste chattered away about their plans for dinner at a nearby oceanfront café as she dug holes for spring plants—her bare and tanned arms welcoming the warmth. She stopped every now and then to adjust the large straw hat that shaded her face and smiled at Max.

Then he saw Adrian and her children gathered on the lawn of the lighthouse.

Celeste isn’t going to believe this.

Max grinned and then fell asleep.

A
LITTLE OVER A
week later, Max walked into Celeste’s hospital room. His gait was noticeably guarded. He had only been released a few days before from the hospital himself. Yet this stay turned out to be far more pleasant since he and Celeste shared most of their time together. The nurses thought their liaisons were endearing. Max had been more mobile than Celeste, and, every day, dressed in his hospital gown and robe, he’d leave his room tethered to an IV and shuffle down the hall to Celeste’s room.

“Hey,” Celeste said and waved. “I’m nearly packed.”

Max kissed her on the cheek, happy that both were free of any medical apparatus. “You look beautiful. A little thin, but then the food in this place could do that to anyone.”

Celeste did a wobbly pirouette to show off the periwinkle sweater and slacks Max had bought her. “I never knew you had such good taste in clothes.”

“And women,” Max said.

She beamed, happy, too, that the sweater’s long sleeves covered the bruises left by her IV. “I can’t wait to get out of here. I know how you felt confined to that bed.”

“You had a concussion and a broken jaw. I think you probably had it tougher than me this time.” Max brushed his hand over Celeste’s hair, now nearly a crew cut.

Celeste’s hair had to be shaved around the wound so the doctor could stitch it together. She thought the long narrow path the clippers made from her neck to the top of her head drew more unwanted attention than having all her hair removed.

Celeste repeated Max’s gesture and ran her hand across the top of her head. “I look like one of those punk stars. Granny Gun would be a good name rather than Guns N’ Roses.” She chuckled. “I might keep it this way. It’s a lot easier to take care of. Maybe I’ll also get a tattoo to round out the look.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Max crinkled his nose. “You wouldn’t, would you?” Then he quickly added, “Although I’d love you just the same.”

“If I kept my hair this way you’d probably want me to cover my head with a hat or scarf, no doubt. I would have to anyway, because I’m sure my head would always be cold.”

Max closed the lid on Celeste’s suitcase and snapped it shut. “Let’s get a move on. Dinner awaits us.”

“Dinner?” Celeste sounded surprised.

“Yes. The women have prepared a Thanksgiving feast for your return home even if you are a few days late. It was Adrian’s idea. She made me keep it a secret until I picked you up.”

“Of course she’d think of something like that,” Celeste said.

Max’s forehead furrowed in concern. “I told them you could eat anything, right? You’ve been doing okay here with the food.”

“Yes. I’m lucky.” Although the oral surgeon had to insert a few screws and a plate over the jaw fracture, she didn’t have to have her mouth wired shut. She rotated her mouth in all directions for proof, though a twinge of pain made her stop. Celeste gave Max an impish look. “Maybe you would have preferred that I had it wired. You wouldn’t have to hear me babble on.”

“Hardly. I don’t know what my world would be like without hearing your voice. Besides, I’ve never known you to talk nonsense.” He eyed her with an equally playful glint in his eye. “Complain a little, but never babble.”

Celeste swatted him. “I’m also lucky that the blow to my jaw didn’t loosen or break any teeth.” She pressed her teeth together and separated her lips wide to show Max. She closed her mouth and added, “I can now eat normally.” She shrugged. “You already know that.” She laid a hand at the back of her head. The jagged scar felt like sandpaper. “I guess my head injury kept me in the hospital.”

Max grabbed Celeste’s coat and helped her put it on. “It’s a shame to hide that pretty outfit.”

Celeste carefully covered her head with a bright pink and purple knitted cap Lorraine had made for her. Her heart skipped. Only a week ago, Lorraine had gone back to her husband. Celeste sighed. “I guess I can’t save them all.”

“What?”

“Lorraine.” Celeste pointed to the hat. “Apparently she feels safer with her abuser than with us at the lighthouse.”

“Fear affects each of us differently. In Lorraine’s case, she never seemed to get over feeling like an outsider who didn’t deserve much. To hide that she became demanding and even selfish.”

“I suppose.” Celeste pulled on the matching mittens that Marcy had knitted. “Okay. I’m ready to face the world,” she said. Was she, though? Time would tell. She had defeated Chad, one of her demons. Could there still be other monsters lurking in the dark corners of her mind, like those that haunted Priscilla? Celeste could hardly think of one at the moment.