Submerged (28 page)

Chapter Forty-Four

Hinton, AB – Sunday, June 16, 2013 – 11:37 PM

Rebecca's hands quivered as Dr. Monroe inspected the stitches in her side.

"Everything looks good
here," the doctor said before leaving the room.

Rebecca watched the clock on the wall and wondered how her life had gone so wrong. At what point had she taken this detour into hell? And what had she done to deserve such atrocities?

"I still can't believe it," she said to Detective Zur, who was seated by the bed. "Tracey Whitaker?" She shook her head slowly.

"She was a despera
te woman. She wanted you out of your husband's life, so she could have a future with him. And the money."

"And Wesley agreed to it all." She stifled a sob. "I can't believe I was so
mistaken about him. I was married to him, for crying out loud. How could I have misjudged his character so badly? How could I have allowed my children to be anywhere near him?"

The detective shrugged.
"You didn't know."

She clenched her teeth, then said, "Well, I should've known."

"Try not to be so hard on yourself, Mrs. Kingston. Some people are schemers and liars. They find ways to bend the truth, twist it to their realities. Your husband and Ms. Whitaker, they're both master manipulators. They wanted you to see what they presented."

"But I was so gullible.
"

"
Unfortunately, we didn't get anything from Rufus Delaney. He's still not talking. And the little we got from Ms. Whitaker isn't really enough to say your husband absolutely knew you had your son and daughter. It's possible Ms. Whitaker gave the order to Rufus. She may have known where your children were."

She shuddered. "They almost died."

"They're alive and safe. And so are you. We couldn't have brought Delaney and Ms. Whitaker down without your assistance. So…thank you."

"I'm glad it's over."

Detective Zur nodded. "The danger's over. I'll warn you though—the next few months are not going to be easy. We're going to process your husband. He'll be charged with attempted murder. If we link him to Delaney, he could be charged with hiring a contract killer. We're still looking for hard evidence against your husband."

"You mean he could get off?"

"I'm going to do everything in my power so that doesn't happen."

"Thank you."

The detective smiled. "You can thank me by getting better and taking your family home."

"That's what I plan to do."

Detective Zur stood. "I have to get back to the station. I expect you'll see Marcus later?"

"I think so
. You two go way back, isn't that right?"

He nodded. "A few years."

"What was he like before his wife and son died?"

"He was a good guy. Trustworthy. Funny. And a great cook. Of course, that was before he made some wrong choices."

"The drugs, you mean."

Detective Zur raised a brow. "Marcus told you about that?"

She nodded. "We had a lot of time to talk. On the phone when I was in the river. He kept me calm." She stared up at him. "You seem surprised."

"I am.
Astounded, actually."

"Why?"

"The Marcus Taylor I know has been rather…closed off. He talked to me a bit after the accident. Then he closed right down. Ever since Jane and Ryan died, he's become more introverted, not so funny."

"He's made
me
laugh a few times."

The detective watched her
, his face brightening. "You like him?"

She blushed. "I, uh…"

"Forget I asked. It's none of my business."

"I'm still married."

Detective Zur walked to the door. "You already initiated divorce proceedings, Mrs. Kingston. If you like Marcus, let him know. He's the kind of guy who'll wait."

"Do you think people can change after years of bad choices?"

"In my line of work," he said, "I see it happen quite often. But some people have to hit rock bottom before they resurface and realize what's important in life. The hardest part for those people is figuring out exactly where their 'rock bottom' is." He released a heavy sigh. "You don't have to concern yourself with Marcus. He hit his six years ago."

"When Jane and Ryan died."

He nodded. "Things have been shaky since then, but he's coming around. I can see a difference in him already. And I have a feeling you'll be better for him than any drug."

"I'm not sure that's a compliment."

Detective Zur grinned. "Believe me, it is."

Rebecca glanced at the clock for the millionth time. It was almost midnight and still no Marcus.

Maybe he's not coming.

She wondered if he'd gone back to the hotel to sleep.

He doesn't sleep. He has somniphobia.

She flicked on the television and wandered through the channels. Nothing interested her, and her eyes drifted to the door.

She thought about Wesley. Was he in a jail cell, cursing because his plans had been blown? Was he raging because she and the kids were still alive?

She gave herself a mental kick for believing his lies.

Greed. One of the seven deadly sins.

She prayed Wesley was as cold and miserable as she had been when trapped in the car.

Then she thought about
Ella and Colton. She wanted to curl up and cry for them, for what they were about to endure. In a matter of hours they would discover their father had tried to kill them—and their mother. How do children live with that?

How will I live with that?

The air in the room shifted as though a breeze had wafted in from an open window. But the window was closed.

She had the distinct sensation that someone was leaning over her. And then she heard a
soft female voice say,
"You'll live with this, Rebecca, one day at a time."

Her eyes drifted shut and a sensation of bliss washed over her.

One day at a time.

Chapter Forty-Five

Hinton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 12:44 AM

Marcus tiptoed into Re
becca's room, a bouquet of assorted blue flowers in his hand. The only ones left in the hospital flower shop, they'd had a blue balloon attached, announcing the birth of a baby boy. He'd removed the balloon and left it tied to a doorknob.

"Hi," she said from the bed.

"Hi." He surveyed the room, then spotted a vase with a wilted single red rose on the windowsill. "Want me to throw this out?"

"Please," she said with obvious relief.

"These were all they had left downstairs," he said, motioning to the bouquet.

"Blue flowers are my favorite."

They match your eyes,
he wanted to say. "I, uh, wanted you to have something colorful and bright to look at."

"These walls are really sterile looking, aren't they?"

He laughed. "Hospital white."

"Remind me not to order that paint color—ever."

There was an uncomfortable second of stillness.

"When are you—?"

"Do you think—?" she said at the same time.

They grinned at each other.

"You first," he said.

"I was wondering if you think you'll come visit me sometime. In Edmonton."

His brow arched. "You want me to?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't." Her expression grew serious. "I don't play head games, Marcus. And I
'm pretty sure neither do you. I'd like to get to know you."

"Without my cape, you mean."

She laughed, and it sent shivers down his spine.

"Fine. I'll come see you in Edmonton."

Her smile radiated sheer delight, and he hoped he'd never see it disappear.

"You started to say something," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "I wanted to know when you were going to get out of here."

"You make it sound like I'm in jail." She flinched.

"Are you thinking of Wesley?"

"I'm still having trouble wrapping my brain around everything he's done. I didn't see it coming. None of it."

Marcus's lips thinned. "How could you? He's the father of your children. And regardless of what he'd done in the past, you never dreamed he'd be capable of murder."

She shuddered. "I guess I'm quite the fool."

"No you're not. You were manipulated by someone you once trusted."

"What'll happen now?"

"The system will take care of Wesley, and you'll get justice for you, Ella and Colton. How are they doing, by the way?"

She smiled.
"Driving Kelly insane."

Chapter Forty
-Six

Edmonton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 2:19 PM

Rebecca unlocked the front door, then turned to Marcus. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us."

"I'm glad I could help."

"Help?" She let out a sad laugh. "You did more than that. My children and I will never be able to repay you."

"I'm not looking for repayment."

She stepped inside her home. It felt like she'd been gone for months instead of days. "Want to come in? I could fix us some dinner."

"I should probably be going."

She cocked her head to one side. "You drove me home, Marcus. Dinner is the least I could do."

"Fine," he said, moving inside and closing the door. "But you need to rest still. I'll do the cooking, providing you've got food in the house."

She grinned. "I can't promise a stocked pantry. I didn't bothering buying much before we left. But there might be something in the fridge or freezer."

Marcus helped her ease off her jacket. She sucked in a breath when pain flared around her chest.

"See?" Marcus said. "What did I tell you? You need to rest."

She sank down on the sof
a, grateful to take his advice, and there was an awkward moment of silence as he propped her feet up on the sofa, then sat in the chair across from her.

"At least I w
on't have to worry about Colton and Ella tonight," she said.

He nodded. "It was nice that your sister decided to keep the
m overnight and give you an evening to yourself."

"Kelly's good that way. She always seems to know what I need."

"My brother, Paul, was a bit like that, although he was caught up in his army career. He made a good soldier."

"That must have been really hard on you when he died."

"Yeah. It was hard on everyone. Paul's death left a huge hole in our family. Seems I have a lot of holes."

She gazed i
nto his eyes and saw bitter grief there. "Jane and Ryan?"

He nodded. "You
have any tea?"

"I think so.
Herbal or regular?"

"Green tea,
if you have it. And don't move. I'll get it. You just tell me where everything is." He was about to walk away, but stopped. "I quit drinking when I quit drugs, even though I never had any problem with alcohol. I thought you should know."

Admiring his honesty, s
he watched as he puttered around in the kitchen, gave him directions to the tea and teapot, then agreed to ordering in some salads from Boston Pizza, since Marcus couldn't find anything salvageable in the fridge.

"So tell me more about this sleep phobia you have," she said
when he handed her a mug.

"Somniphobia. It sucks. I'd give anything to be able to climb into bed and sleep more than two hours at a stretch."

"What happens when you try to sleep?"

"My heart begins to pound. My palms sweat. I feel like I'm gasping for breath. As soon as I drift off, I jerk awake. Sometimes I see things that aren't there."

"What kind of things?"

He shook his head and stared at the fireplace. "Ghosts mostly. I know, crazy. I'm sleep deprived. But sometimes…"
He shrugged.

"What?"

"They seem so real."

"Your wife and son?"

"Yes."

"Paul?"

"I used to see him, but it's been a long time since he visited me."

"Maybe h
e's at peace now."

He raised his eyes and stared at her. "You know, most women would
simply laugh at an admission like this. They'd think I was nuts."

"Are you?"

He chuckled. "There are days when I wonder."

"Like recently?"

"Yeah. The past few days have been high on my list of weird."

"Gee, thanks."

He laughed. "I didn't mean you."

"It has been
beyond
strange." Her smile faded. "It's not every day that I have to fight for my life because my husband and his lover want me out of the picture." She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Wesley had planned everything.

"I'm really sorry, Rebecca. I can
't imagine what you're going through."

"It's probably my fault the police didn't consider her."

"What do you mean?"

"When Detective Zur asked me about
Tracey, I said we were civil to each other, that there were no hard feelings."

"You thought that was true. She didn't give you any reason to think otherwise."

"They did look into her," she said, trying to recall what Zur had stated about Tracey right before she'd left Hinton. "She's not living with Wesley, and no one knew they were engaged. That happy event happened a few days ago, according to Tracey. She's never been arrested and had such nice things to tell the police about me. And since her bank records didn't show anything unusual, the police didn't consider her a suspect."

"You don't have to
worry about her now."

She nodded. "I know."

The image of Tracey's body falling to the floor, taking her down with her, kept replaying in her mind. The police had pulled Tracey off her, and all Rebecca had seen was the blood.

She cringed at the memory.
"Wesley has her blood on his hands."

"He almost had yours and the kids' too."

She blinked back tears. "Wesley told your detective friend that he'd mentioned the kids' inheritance to her. He still claims he had nothing to do with this. He's a good liar." She couldn't keep the resentment from her voice.

"And now he's locked up. You won't have to worry about him for a
long time."

Her gaze swept over the living room. There was so much here that reminded her of Wesley. Too much. "I think I'm going to sell the house and move."

"Where to?"

"I don't know. Someplace that's quiet. That doesn't remind me of this life I had with him."

"Housing market kinda sucks right now."

"What do you propose I do?"

"Wait a few months. See if the market improves, and if it does, sell then."

She smiled. "Ever think of going into real estate?"

"No. I've been keeping my eyes open, though. There's something Jane and I had planned to do."

"What's that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I'll tell you one day. Right now, you should focus on what you're going to do."

She let out a small groan. "I have
n't got a clue. How does one return to normal life when things have been anything but normal?"

He leaned forward, and at first she thought he was going to touch her, but he clasped his hands in his lap. "One day at a time."

"Speaking of which…" She took a deep breath. "Are you going to go to a meeting tonight?"

"I was planning on it. Unless you want me to stay here."

She shook her head. "The last thing I need is a babysitter, Marcus."

"
I don't mind staying for one night. So you're not alone."

"
The police car outside is gone because there's no threat. Tracey is dead and Wesley's in jail. There's nothing for me to be afraid of anymore. I'm safe. Besides, it's time for you to look after yourself for a change." She tilted her head at him. "I'd feel better if I knew you were at a meeting tonight."

Marcus's brow arched. "
Are you worried that I might use?"

"If you did, I'd think
it was my fault." She held her breath and waited for his reply.

"It's never anyone else's fault," he said. "When an addict uses, it's his
or her choice. Always."

"Th
en go to a meeting. When it's over, come back here."

He gave her a surprised look and she added, "You can s
leep on the couch. Or watch TV."

"Why'd you change your mind?"

She looked away. "Even though I'm no longer in danger, the thought of staying in the house by myself is a bit unnerving. I'd feel better if someone else were here. Even if just for a night."

"No problem."

She caught his arm. "Before you go, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure thing. What do you need?"

"The doctor gave me some painkillers and something to help me sleep. They're in my purse, by the front door. Can you put them in the kitchen by the sink? I think that's as far as I'm going to make it. At least until you get back."

He stared at her, his face serious and grim. "Are you testing me?"

"Huh?"

"With the drugs."

"No!" Her eyes widened in shock. "That's the last thing I'd do. I want those pills where I can reach them easily. That's all."

Marcus's face reddened. "Sorry. I-I'
m so used to suspicion, I guess."

She waved a hand in the air. "Forget about it.
I trust you."

He watched her
, skepticism etched into his face. "You're too nice, Rebecca Kingston."

"Nice. Oh yay. Just what every woman wants to hear."

When he looked as though he were going to apologize again, she laughed. "I'm joking."

She watched as he pulled on his jacket and opened the door.

Pausing in the doorway, he said, "You probably shouldn't, you know."

"Shouldn't what?"

"Trust me."

She pondered his words as the door closed behind him.
Too late, Marcus.