Suspicions of the Heart (25 page)

"I'm sorry about your debt, really. I
never knew. But you should have started out smaller instead of
jumping into the higher price brackets before your business was on
its feet. I tried to tell you that three years ago. You wouldn't
listen. I'm surprised your firm can't handle it. Last I heard you
were doing well for yourself." Candy watched him.

"I was," he faltered for just a second,
"but I've got a few gambling debts I can't pay."

"Gambling?" She gulped. "Dear God, you
got into gambling? Why? I can't imagine you doing something that
careless."

"Don't look so surprised." He relaxed
his fix on the gun for a second, his eyes going over the trailer in
detail, as though he were searching for something. "You kill me
with your naive little act. Like you don't know there is another
world out there."

He studied her long and hard, and then
looked away. "You never understood. We never really connected, did
we? I mean, I wanted the good life. I was about to get it, too. Had
a winning hand. I deliberately kept the stakes high. But I lost. I
lost big time. To an unbelievable Royal Flush. Do you know the odds
against anyone drawing a Royal Flush? I lost my house in Highland
Park, my securities, everything. Now, I've got to pay them or I'll
lose everything, including my self respect, and I'm not letting you
or anyone else interfere in that. So sign the paper." His teeth
gritted.

"No," she sighed heavily, knowing the
danger she was putting herself in, but unable to live with the
consequences.

"You think I won't use this?" he
threatened, looking directly into her eyes.

"I don't know. I really don't. I
thought I knew you pretty well. Even though we didn't have the best
of marriages, I thought we came out of it pretty good at the time.
I guess I never really knew you, did I?"

"That's water under the bridge, it
doesn't matter anymore. Just sign it and shut up. I don't need to
hear about what could have been, or should have been." His hand
moved so the gun was pointed straight at her head.

"At least it will kill me instantly.
But why did you start with trying to scare me? Why didn't you just
kill me and take what you wanted? If you were that desperate?" She
asked her voice low and small.

Fargate eyed her again, his hands
trembling only so slightly. "I thought you'd come to your senses. I
thought I could persuade you into letting me handle it. Sure, it
would have been a swindle, but I can't see you having me arrested.
Your pride would have taken you down with me."

Candy glanced past him. "You don't
seriously think you are going to get away with this, do
you?"

"Why not. What have I got to lose? If
only we'd have remarried, this wouldn't be happening."

"All the things you've worked for, for
one. And Charles, I've grown up a little since wer were married. I
knew you didn't love me…on our wedding night."

"I lost everything when you left. And
then when I got hooked on gambling." He shook his head. "Good God,
you are such an innocent. Don't you see? I thought I had it under
control. I thought I could handle anything, until I began losing."
He laughed, his voice dripping with acid.

Then his voice lowered, as the gun
stared at her. "My secretary, Janet, is hooked on drugs. I'm in
love with her, terribly, I'm supporting her habit, too. That's why
I took to gambling and, at first, it paid off. At first I was
winning. I was going to put her in a rehab, help her."

Candy shook her head. "I'm sorry for
the both of you."

"Save your pity. We don't need
it."

"But why, Charles? You're such an
intelligent man, why would you stoop to this? You make a good
living, have a good life. I didn't even know you owned a home in
Highland Park."

Fargate laughed. "Charles now is it?
Since when? And no, I don't suppose you did know about the house I
bought in Highland Park. Another investment. I had a lot of
investments, unfortunately not all good ones."

He closed his eyes for a second, and
then stared into hers. "Intelligent? I'm not so sure anymore. I got
hooked on a lot of things, gambling, sex, and the fast life. It was
easy. And you…you never had a clue. My naïve little wife, my ace in
the hole. Now," he laid the cold metal against her head, "sign
it."

"You're going to have to kill me,
Charles, and I don't think you can do that," she said, although he
had no idea how much her insides were shaking. Still, something
told her he couldn't kill her. A third sense. The one remaining,
redeeming quality he had left. He wasn't a killer. He might have
made mistakes, but he wasn't a killer.

He cocked the trigger.

"You wouldn't have hired Doug to do the
dirty work if you could do it yourself." She insisted.

Then they heard the squad cars pulling
up outside. Someone must have figured it all out. Probably the
Sheriff, Candy thought. She wished they hadn't come. She felt she
might have talked him out of the whole thing if they had stayed
away. Sweat began to pool on her face and forehead. Her mouth went
dry.

"I didn't want it to come to this,
Candy," he said, pulling her by the arm so that she was standing
beside him, close to the door.

"It still doesn't have to."

"It's your fault. If you'd have let me
handle it when you inherited the ranch, everything would have been
fine. If you had insisted on coming out here you wouldn't have
known I was swindling you."

"I wanted a home. A real home," Candy
protested. "I've never had one…Charles."

"You call this piece of dirt a home?"
He glanced outside and laughed.

"It's the closest I've ever come to
having one."

"What about when we were married? I
provided well for you."

"Yes, I know. You did. But we didn't
have a home, Charles. You didn't want a home. You didn't want
something you had to worry about, remember?"

"Just sign the damn paper and there
won't be any trouble," he demanded once more, his eyes staring into
hers.

"I… I can't."

"All right in there, come out with your
hands up." A loud voice rang through the air.

"Candy, are you all right in
there?"

It was Joe. What was he doing out
there? Why didn't he let the Sheriff handle this?

"I'm fine," she called to reassure
everyone.

"Come on out, Fargate, it's too late.
We just got a full confession from Chapman," Joe said coming closer
to the door.

"Stay away, gentleman. I've got a gun
pointed at Candy's head, and I won't fail to shoot should you try
to rush me."

There was a long silence, and then
Roscoe shouted, "You touch a hair on her head, Fargate, and I'll
personally take you out."

Fargate began to sweat, and Candy
wished everyone would go away and let her handle this. She felt she
might be able to persuade Fargate if she was given enough
time.

"Charles, please, let me help you,"
Candy pleaded. "I don't care about what you've done, what you've
tried to do to me..."

"That's priceless. You saving me!"
Fargate glanced out the small window of the trailer. "What makes
you think I would trust you now? No, for once, Candy, we are going
to play it out my way, win or lose."

"Things aren't as bad as you think,
Charles. I'll help you pay your bills. If it will help, I'll sell
this place and you can have the money. How's that?"

Fargate eyed her suspiciously. "You'd
do that for me?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to see you lose
everything. You were my husband once. I don't want it to end this
way, Charles." Her voice broke. "Despite everything, I
don't."

"Then sign the paper."

"All right, give me a pen."

He took a pen from his jacket and
handed it to her. She signed her name immediately, handing him the
pen and paper.

"Now, you see its okay. It's all over.
You can leave now. Go home, pay your bills. And for God's sake,
please stop gambling."

He shook the gun in the air, and
laughed. An evil laugh like she had never heard. Pity swamped her.
Did he honestly think he could get away with this?

But then she saw the look on his face
as he stared at the paper, an unbelievable look of sadness. She
knew he was torn between right and wrong. His hands shook, his brow
was sopping. His eyes glazed. He let out a sudden, loud groan that
seemed to come deep within him. Then he slumped for a moment, the
gun resting at his side.

He glanced at Candy, and wiped the
sweat from his eyes. "I was wrong, you aren't an ice maiden. I was
so wrong about you Candy, forgive me…."

Then before she could react to his
changing mood, he opened the door, held up his hands, the gun
dangled from his fingers.

"Charles," Candy followed him. "What
are you doing?"

Fargate walked out of the trailer,
hands in the air. The Sheriff and his men walked slowly toward him.
Then without warning, he turned the gun on himself and fired a
shot, in the chest.

Candy stared out, unbelieving of what
she had witnessed.

Charles Fargate, her ex-husband lay
only a few feet away, still breathing, and looking straight at her
now as he tried to pull himself up and slumped to the
ground.

He turned in time to see her startled
face. "I had to do it...I just couldn't live with myself any
more…not after seeing you..."

Then he was gone, and Candy stared at
the lifeless body as though it wasn't there.

Candy felt hot tears stinging her
cheeks as she watched them take him away. Joe and Roscoe came up to
her. Joe took her in his arms, holding her so close and so
safe.

"You okay?" he whispered somewhere near
her ear.

She listened to the thumping of his
chest and nodded, leaning her head there. If she could trust
nothing else, she trusted the frantic beating of his heart. "I'm
not sure." she called the Sheriff as he started to get in his squad
car.

"Sheriff?"

The Sheriff turned as his men took care
of the body.

"Ma'am," he questioned, then seeing her
shocked face he added. "We'll take care of it from here. You get
some rest now, you here?"

Candy shook her head and the tears fell
silently down her cheeks. Roscoe and Joe drove her back to the
ranch where Aggie enfolded her in her arms. Candy cried for a long
while. Then she laid down while Aggie fixed supper.

The life seemed to have drained out of
her. She didn't want to think anymore. Didn't want to contemplate
what Fargate had done. She only wished she could have really helped
him. She heard Butch whine on the back porch, and she sympathized
with him. He needed a good pat and some food, that was all, she
reasoned.

She closed her eyes and slept till
Aggie come and got her for supper.

"I'm sorry, I guess I was just tired,"
she tried to explain.

"I'm sure you are exhausted, honey, but
you need to eat."

"That sounds good," Candy replied and
followed her into the kitchen where everyone sat around the table
waiting for her. "I'll try, Aggie."

"Well, now, come and sample Aggie's
chicken fried steak and gravy, gal. It's out of this world." Roscoe
chuckled as she walked into the room and smiled sadly.

Joe sat silently at the head of the
table, his face unreadable. Candy ate, but she wasn't interested in
food. Instead, she kept stealing glances at Joe. Hungry glances as
though she might eat him up any minute. She needed him.

Joe was quiet, very quiet. Aggie took
some fat meat out to Butch, and Candy heard him whine to come
in.

"Later, Butch, not now," Joe replied to
his favorite pet affectionately.

After supper and the dishes were
cleared away, Aggie and Roscoe went for a walk. Candy excused
herself to her bedroom. She waited until the house got quiet, and
then slipped into her nightshirt. She turned on the small portable
radio in her room and listened as she lay across the
bed.

Sounds from Joe's room echoed in her
head. Was he going straight to bed, or just messing around? Did he
listen to music? And those blue sheets, was he laying on top of
them, or under them? Her heartbeat quickened just thinking about
it. She knew being in his arms right now would make everything
better.

Ever since she came out of the trailer
she seemed ultra-aware of Joe and what he was doing. Every move he
made caught her attention. Trust. She did trust him now. But was
she too late?

She tossed and turned in her bed,
unable to block out the day's events. Unable to stop thinking about
the one man she knew she wanted. The one man that could make things
right again for her.

She had finally let go of the past.
Finally faced all the insecurities in her life and dealt with them.
And today, when Fargate faced such trouble, she knew that life was
too precious to worry about material things. Up until now her home
had been the most important thing in her life. Roscoe, Lancer, and
home. That was all she had cared about.