Meant for Her (16 page)

She was sleeping, and he took a moment to admire her simple beauty, so much like her mother’s. It was ironic that her end would be at his hands, just as Mary’s had been. Mrs. McDowell had been mere months away from death when he killed her, the cancer’s havoc near complete when he learned she intended to name him in a lawsuit about the ionizing radiation at the worksite.

He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Barstow walked to the head of the bed and examined the IV lines that entered the back of her hand, reaching into his pocket for the small glass vial and syringe.

“Hi.”

The voice behind him made him drop the drug back against the lining of his pants. He turned to see a lanky redhead holding a cafeteria tray laden with desserts. He donned his warmest smile, the grandfatherly tone. “Hello there.”

Becky stepped forward and put the tray down, eyeing him warily. “Who are you?”

He had only a moment to consider the question. “Tom Barstow,” he said, offering his hand.

“Becky O’Connor.” She scowled at him. “How do you know Julie?”

“I don’t, actually. I’m Hank Jared’s commanding officer.” He carefully smoothed his features into an expression that exuded authority and trustworthiness, watching as she visibly relaxed in response.

They always do.

She picked up a macaroon. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with Ms. Trueblood about what happened. I heard she’s regained consciousness.”

“Yes, but she’s very tired.”

“Of course. I wish it could wait, but with her father out there somewhere it’s important that I speak with her as soon as possible.”

Becky nodded. “Do you want me to wake her for you?”

“That would be good. Thank you.”

Becky leaned in and touched Julie’s arm. “Wake up, Jules. Someone’s here to speak to you.”

Barstow watched as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Hank?”

“Hank went back to my place to sleep for a while. This man needs to talk to you about what happened.”

He forced the breath in and out of his lungs despite his desire to hold it. Julie turned her eyes to his. As soon as they connected with his own, he knew he had made the wrong decision.

Julie Trueblood recognized him, and the last time he’d introduced himself, it was as someone else entirely.

Chapter 12

The taxi let Hank off in front of a Craftsman bungalow with green siding and red trim. He stepped out into the street under gray, stormy skies, careful to avoid the piles of slush and brown, melting snow. Digging in his pocket, he took out the key that Becky gave him and walked up the chunky front steps to the covered porch.

 He unlocked the big wooden door and stepped inside, where he was greeted by a barking Pug.
Lucy? Lainey?
He couldn’t remember what Becky said.  The dog’s scrunched black face and beady eyes contrasted with its sand-colored body and the mirth of its curled tail.

Stepping around the animal, he walked through the living room to the kitchen and helped himself to a glass of water. He leaned his tired body on the counter as he drained the glass.

“
Ever since I lost David…”

Hank moved to the table as he pulled out his cell phone.

“Hank,” answered Chip. “Did you find McDowell?”

“Yeah. Then I lost him again.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” Hank rubbed his free hand down his face. “How’re Melody and the babies?”

“They’re great.”

“She all right?”

“Uh huh. She’s stable. Doctor says she’s out of the woods.”

Hank’s head fell back.  “That’s awesome.”

“What do you need?”

Julie Trueblood was shot by her father last night.”

“Oh my God. Is she okay?”

“I think so.” He closed his eyes. “Chip, the message you left the other day. David Beaumont.”

There was a pause on the line. “I thought you didn’t want to pursue it.”

“I don’t. But I can’t stop thinking about it.” Hank opened his eyes and sat back in his chair. “I mean, the guy was a music composer. What the hell does he have to do with
anything?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to see what I can find out?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But be safe. If it comes down to it, it isn’t that important. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, man. Give my love to Melody.”

“Will do.”

He hung up the phone and stared at the kitchen wall, unseeing.

Gwen was a special lady. If there was something to this, she deserved to know the truth.

 ~~~

Becky stood outside the nursery and watched a father cry over his newborn son. A nurse was checking the baby over and chatting with the dad as she moved her stethoscope over the baby’s chest.

Becky had wandered off when Barstow wanted to talk to Julie, and found the hospital had little to offer in the way of entertainment. A quick spin through the gift shop yielded a coffee mug with “I love my Pug” drawn out in symbols and pictures, before a sign for the maternity ward caught her eye.

There were three other infants in the room, two girls and a boy, each wearing hand-knitted caps of pink or blue and swaddled in white blankets with pink and green stripes. As she watched, a woman in a bathrobe walked gingerly in, showed the nurse her wristband, and wheeled one of the girls out of the nursery.

Someday, that will be me.

Despite the pang of her biological clock, Becky was in no rush to settle down. On the contrary, she enjoyed dating different men and not getting too attached to any of them. How could one man be as interesting as three or four?

At the moment, she was seeing a professional weightlifter, an architect, and a veterinarian, each of whom had qualities she liked. The vet was getting clingy, though, and she suspected she would need to let him go soon.

She looked at it like fishing for the perfect man. Catch and release, before they died in the bucket, or proposed marriage or something equally ridiculous. In the last three years, two men had proposed, and Becky was quite sure there was a distinct odor in the air at the time.

A little girl and an old woman entered the nursery hand-in-hand. The girl wore a pink T-shirt that said, “Big Sister” and the woman picked her up as they joined the man and the newborn boy.

Becky’s heart constricted as she watched the father take the girl from the woman and introduce her to her new baby brother.

Oh, Meghan. I miss you so much.

A very young woman with raven hair, ivory skin and bright green eyes appeared in her memory. Older by nearly five years, Meghan O’Connor acted like a second mother to little Becky. She braided her long red hair, dressed her in pretty outfits, and took her for walks around the yard in the stroller.

As the girls grew up, they only grew closer, spending hours playing basketball, doing each others nails and telling secrets. At sixteen, Meghan was in love with Liam Wheaton, a strikingly handsome boy with strong features and dark brown hair. He was from the wrong part of town, with the wrong kind of family, and the girls’ parents had forbidden Meghan to see him.

Young Becky had begun lying for her sister, so the couple could spend time together.

The last day Becky saw her sister, Becky was eleven. Meghan and Liam had taken her on a picnic in the country. There was a big field of golden grass and a small, shallow river where they spent the day wading and looking for crayfish.

“Always remember how much I love you, Monkey.” Meghan was staring at her sister, the sunlight streaming through the trees behind her, making her look like an angel.

The next day, she and Liam were gone.

That was a very long time ago.

“Can I help you with anything?”

She turned to find a blonde-haired young man with piercing blue eyes and matching scrubs checking her out. Residents weren’t usually assigned as hall monitors, and she suspected her veterinarian might be replaced by someone else with medical training.

“Hi.” She put her hands in her back pockets. “I’m Becky.”

He tilted his head back and smirked. “Jim Hanguerer.”

“Nice to meet you, Jim. Would you like to buy me a drink after your shift?”

He grinned widely.  “I would love to.”

 ~~~

“You’re Barstow?”

This man looked like he had swung by for a visit between church services and a round of golf. The very idea of him being a threat to her was laughable, yet her stomach churned with anxiety at his mere presence.

“Would you excuse us please, young lady?” he asked Becky. When she was gone, he pulled a chair up beside Julie’s bed and sat down. “I am. But you remember me as someone else, don’t you?”

Her mother’s last day on this earth, in a hospital room not unlike this one, a younger Julie returned from the chapel to find a stranger at her mother’s bedside. He had introduced himself as Henry Goldstein. She wondered who he was to her mother, why he came to see her just hours before her death.

“Why did you lie to me?”

His lips pressed together in a firm line. “I didn’t want you to tell your father I came to see your mom.”

“Why not?”

“Mary and I were friends. She was the head engineer at a project I was overseeing at Camp Harold. Your father got the wrong idea.”

A memory flashed in her mind, the family at a truck stop off the interstate, her father screaming at her mother in the parking lot, onlookers staring in shock.

“You were flirting with him. I saw you, damn it!”

So many times, so many accusations. Her father’s rages were legendary, her mother’s acceptance of his jealousy baffling to her daughter.

“I’m sorry he did that to you.”

He nodded. “I got to say goodbye to Mary. That’s all I cared about.” He looked down at his hands, absently rubbing his fingers. “I still miss her, your mother.”

“So do I.”

“Taken from this world far too soon.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I didn’t come to talk about the past, I came to talk about what happened yesterday at Systex.”

Julie walked him through the events of the last five days, though he already knew about many of them from Hank. He sat forward in his chair, never interrupting as she went through the details of her ordeal.

When she was finished, he bowed his head. “I’m sorry for all that you’ve been through, and I’m sorry I have to ask you this, Julie, but I do.” He met her eyes with his own.  “Are you sleeping with Hank Jared?”

She felt her cheeks heat at the intimate question, feeling much as she had when the priest had caught her and Hank kissing in the basement. She looked at her hands in her lap.

“I see.” He sat back in his chair, weaving his fingers together as he frowned. “I’d like you to break it off.”

“What? Why?”

“You are the daughter of the most famous American traitor since Benedict Arnold. A lot of people—not me, mind you, but a lot of people—believe you were involved. It will destroy his career, Julie. Everything that young man has worked so hard to achieve.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t matter. It’s all perception. You are perceived to be the enemy, and Jared is perceived to be one who’s sleeping with the enemy. He was going to be promoted to commander, Julie. Do you know how hard he’s worked for that?” His eyes implored her. “That won’t happen now.”

Julie could feel her lower lip beginning to tremble and she bit down on it, hard. “But I love him,” she whispered.

“If you really love him, you’ll do what’s best for him.” Barstow leaned forward in his chair, his eyes beseeching. “I’ve worked with him for eight years, watching him persevere day in and day out for his career. He’s a Navy man, through and through. It will break his spirit if that’s taken away from him.”

Was he right? Would Hank lose something that was so important to him, for her? “I’ll talk to him about it.”

“You know what he’ll say, Julie.”

Yes, she did. He could be on fire, and he’d deny it if it would make her happy. Just a few hours ago, he told her he loved her and the world was at her feet. Now just as quickly, it was hanging by a thread.

“Maybe you can two can make it work after everything falls apart. I don’t know. But I suggest you think long and hard before you make that choice, because you’re making it for both of you.”

Tears welled in her eyes and began to spill out over her lashes. “Where will I go? My father broke into my apartment once. I’m not safe there. Hank was taking care of me.”

“I can protect you, Julie.”

She stared at him, a dignified man with kindness in his eyes and an olive branch in his hand. He was her mother’s friend, her lover’s commanding officer. He would keep her safe.

Her head nodded in agreement, feeling the tears fall as she did. A gasping sob brought her hand to her mouth.

If you love something, set it free…

She cried until she fell asleep, a dreamless relief from the most difficult of days.

 ~~~

Hank didn’t know what kind of flowers she liked, so he bought one of each.

A few hours of sleep had done him a world of good, and as he walked into Julie’s hospital room he had a bounce in his step and a smile on his face.

She was sitting in the blue recliner, watching the rare winter thunderstorm rattle the city of Boston. The blanket of white had been ripped off the landscape by rain, leaving only shredded bits of snow smeared and diminishing in its wake.

“You’re up,” he said as he crossed to her, kissing her cheek. “That’s terrific. How are you feeling?”

“Good. I’m good.” She sat oddly still, her hands clenching the arms of the chair.

“What did the doctor say? Has he been in to see you?”

She nodded. “He says I’m going to be fine.”

Hank offered her the flowers. “I brought you these. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“Thank you.”

“Is everything okay? You seem preoccupied.”

She looked back to the storm out the window. “I guess I am.”

“What’s going on?”

Lightning flashed and Hank found himself counting, waiting for the thunder. He got to five before she answered him.