Aftermath (49 page)

A few cat-calls went out as they passed. One dark-haired man rested his hands between the bars of his cell and leaned on them, his smile wide. His roving gaze never left her.

Beth focused on keeping her eyes straight ahead. Didn’t let the snaking sensation of fear cling to her. “Where are we going?”

They reached a security door. He punched in a code and placed his thumb on the pad. It opened. “My office.”

Okay. Not what she’d expected. They passed several more cell blocks before they reached another coded access. He stopped at the first door on their left. Motioned for her to precede him inside.

The space was small. A little wider than her cell and contained a desk, a padded chair, two visitors seats and a bookshelf.

Beth stopped in the center of the room. Didn’t know if she should move any further. Any other time she’d been out of her cell, there’d been at least two CO’s flanking her.

And now there were none.

He left the door open and rounded to the front of the desk, facing the door, and sat. Tapped his fingers on a knee and braced the opposite elbow on the edge of his armrest. Placed his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Didn’t demand she take the chair opposite him.

“You asked about my arm.”

Beth lowered herself into the chair. Swallowed back the shimmering emotion climbing her nerves. “I shouldn’t have.”

Those violet eyes centered on her, turbulent. Stole her breath. “Over three years ago, I was visiting an Air Force buddy at a rehab facility.”

An agitated swirl started in her stomach. She clenched her hands together. “Dexter, this isn’t necessary. It’s none of my business.”

“I walked in there to cheer up a friend. Came out on a stretcher. Woke up after a week in the hospital. Was told there was an explosion and I was lucky to be alive.”

The room got ten times smaller. A flash of shameful heat crawled up her body. Claimed her breath and kept asking for more. The pressure of tears socked her between the eyes.

“And your friend?” The words came out on a hitch of breath.

He shook his head. “Never had a chance.”

Beth clenched her fingers until pain radiated through them. And then she kept going. There was no mistaking where he’d gotten his scars.

They were all from her. From a thoughtless action she’d assumed would satisfy the burning ache. Instead, it made the void larger until there wasn’t much more than the blackness left.

An apology sat at the back of her throat, but she held it in check. It would never bring those lives back. Never assuage the pain. A mockery that incited more of the same.

How could he stand to be in the same room with her?

“If I’ve eased your curiosity, I’d like to move on.” The words were abrupt. He arranged a note pad on his desk. Stacked it on top of a bible, next to a framed picture she couldn’t see the details of. His closed laptop was on the other side of the surface. “Tell me why Raner had a reason to knock you senseless. And what, if anything, we need to do about it.”

We? What was he talking about? She couldn’t even think beyond the beating of her heart in her ears. Still couldn’t breathe properly.

When she didn’t respond, he glanced up from his detail. A dial tone filled the room as he fiddled with the phone on his desk and then dialed a number. “You took some lives, but you’ve got an opportunity to save some, right now.”

You’ve got an opportunity.

She sucked in a breath

“What’s up, Dex?” Baker Jackson’s voice filled the room. “You’re on speaker.”

“Same here.” He moved the phone between them.

“Oh?” The question in Baker Jackson’s voice mirrored the confusion taking root in her mind.

“I’ve got Beth with me. Seems she received a strange call from her lawyer this morning, sometime after Amanda and I talked.”

A sigh came over the line, full of resignation. As if Beth had orchestrated this wild turn of events.

She couldn’t blame him. He had no reason to think any different. “He mentioned something about going out with a bang.” Beth scooted to the edge of her chair. Bit the inside of her lip. Dexter should talk to them. They’d listen to him. Wouldn’t question every word.

What could she remember about Dana, anyway?

“Say I believe this story—one no one can, conveniently, verify—”

“The prison records all of its calls, Baker Jackson.”

The defense was surprising. Beth’s eyes flicked to Dexter, but didn’t linger long. “Dana knows all sorts of things about everything. Computers, science, medicine, law, marine biology. Explosives. You name it, he had the knowledge. His dad was big on education.”

“And somehow explosives fell under that list?” Distaste lined every syllable of Amanda’s words.

An expletive came through the line.

“What’s wrong, Robbie?”

Beth shifted closer. Held her breath.

“No brakes.” As if he’d announced the air conditioner was out, his words were calm.

“What do you mean, no brakes?” A shrill quality laced Amanda’s voice. It jangled along Beth’s spine. Had her sitting straighter. “We stopped five minutes ago. You had brakes then.”

“Well, we don’t now, A.J.”

“You’ve got a ninety degree turn coming up.” A pause. “And you’re doing eighty.”

Beth stood. Couldn’t help the motion. Nor the fear twisting her gut. Amanda and Baker Jackson continued bickering about the upcoming turn. And his lack of reduced speed even with a few careful maneuvers.

There was no way his brakes suddenly gave out. Too much coincidence there. Their voices were melding together now, panic the only thing coming across the line.

Did they go around angering all of the criminals? Paste a pick-me-I’ll-be-your-challenge sign on their backs?

Dexter pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“You both need to calm down.” Beth tried to do the same. Didn’t get a response from the couple.

The sound of crumpling metal and breaking glass blared over the phone. Made her imagination spin just as out of control.

And then silence reigned.

“Guys?”

No answer. The tinkle of what had to be raining glass confirmed they hadn’t lost connection. She rounded the desk and opened Dexter’s laptop. Pulled up software and had it downloading in seconds.

“What’s his number?”

He flicked her hands out of the way and typed it in. And then they waited. “Looks like they’re somewhere between Killian Crossroads and Maiden.”

“Amanda? Can you hear me?” Beth stared at the phone as if she might be able to see beyond it. She knelt next the desk. Willed someone to answer.

Beth’s heart began to pound over the sound of Dexter’s conversation on the other phone. They needed to do something. Anything.

“Amanda? Baker Jackson? Can you hear me?”

Silence.

“H-hello?” A young, female voice came through the speakers.

Beth shifted and took a breath. Reached for the phone and pulled it closer. “What’s your name?”

“Paige.”

Her heart stopped. No. Way. She was forty miles from where she’d been twelve hours ago. And even if this was
that
Paige, they were still in a lot of danger. “Okay, Paige. I’m Beth, I’m…”

What was she?

Nothing.

Dexter put the phone down, and swiveled his chair toward her. Leaned forward to get a better look at the map she’d pulled up.

She gave a harsh swallow. Resisted moving away.

“Hi, Paige. I’m Dexter Knight. We’re friends with a man and woman who might have been in a car accident. Can you describe the scene in front of you?”

“I-I can’t stay.”

“It’s okay.” Beth scooted close to the phone as if cradling it was the equivalent of doing so to her biological daughter. “We aren’t going to ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You’re not in any trouble and you won’t get in any trouble, okay?”

A long paused filled the phone. Had the girl run off? She glanced up at Dexter. He’d braced an elbow on one thigh and pinched his lower lip between thumb and index finger.

“Paige?” His voice was smooth and calm. “Are you still there?”

“I want to help, but if I stay…”

He shifted. “Is there a man and woman with a black SUV, nearby?”

Another pause. “Yes.” Some shuffling came over the line. “The truck is upside down. It’s pretty banged up.”

Beth pressed a hand to her mouth. Held back a lurch of stomach acid. Along with all the contradictions racing through her brain. If this was what she’d wanted all those years ago, why wasn’t she jumping for joy right now?

Why did it feel like her heart was being ripped from her body?

Beth cleared her throat. “Does it smell like gas? Any sparks coming from anywhere nearby? Is the car stable?”

“A little like gas. Some smoke, but it seems okay.” More scuffling. “The woman has a pulse and a few scrapes across her face. Looks like the airbag went off.”

“And the man?”

A loud tear filled the space. “No airbag. There’s blood everywhere, but bleeding from the face always looks worse than it is.”

Wow. Beth sat back. “How old are you, Paige?”

“Thirteen. I like…health class.” The girl sucked in a breath. “I take that back. That’s as bad as it looks.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

A GRUNT AND the sound of female voices brought Amanda from the blackness. Her face was on fire, the pressure in her head making it come alive with a vengeance. Her collarbone throbbed as if someone had used a baseball bat on it.

What had happened? The last thing she remembered was…

The brakes had gone out. Even with jerking the vehicle into neutral and swerving as much as the road would allow, they’d still taken the curve too fast. Rolled over the guardrail. Her airbag deployed. Glass rained everywhere.

She was pretty sure they’d rolled another time before they’d stopped.

“Alright, Paige, apply firm pressure. Don’t worry about wrapping that bandage too tight.” The voice was Beth’s, but that couldn’t be right. Beth was…

“What about the fire?” A young voice entered the mix.

Fire?

Amanda’s eyes snapped open. A heap of mangled metal was in her direct view, a windshield frame squished into a smaller rectangle. Bits of grass and dirt poked through the opening. Smoke billowed up into the cabin, the smell of gas permeating the air. Flickers of light bounced off the shiny bits of metal, like the reflection of a fireplace in a window.

She glanced to her right. The trees and grass beyond her missing window were hanging from the sky. Her arms were above her head. And numb. She blinked. Brought it back into focus, the same.

“We’ve got help headed toward you.” Beth’s voice came through the speakers…because they’d been on speaker phone.

Who was she talking to?

Amanda looked toward the driver’s side. Caught sight of Robinson in much the same position. Blood oozed from somewhere near his temple and dripped downward.

He wasn’t moving. A head of dark hair, matted in places, poked through the open driver’s side door. Steady hands wrapped a cloth around the wound. The remnants of his airbag were nowhere in sight, the steering wheel intact.

No. Agony tore through her body like the bullets from a well-aimed machine gun. Had her struggling with her seatbelt. Her hands wouldn’t work properly. “Robbie?”

“Amanda?” Beth’s voice wiggled through the whoosh of blood in her ears. It was in stereo with another. Dexter.

The person working on her husband stilled. Glanced up at her with amber colored eyes. Dirt was smudged on her thin face.

“Paige?”
Paige?
Saliva gathered in her mouth.
“Have you seen Ariana?”

Distrust flashed in her eyes. “Do I know you?”

“Amanda, hold still a second.” Beth’s voice held worry. “You could have a neck injury or worse.”

Amanda shook her head. “I’m okay.”

“That’s the adrenaline talking. Keeping that fight or flight response alive.” Beth’s words came fast and on notes of panic. “You could have internal bleeding—”

“Dexter, give her a paper bag to breathe into or something.” Right now, she didn’t care about anything, but getting to her husband.

She found the latch with her left hand and braced the opposite on the crumpled roof of the car, inches from her head. As soon as the belt gave way, her body rushed toward the ceiling. And she landed in a heap near the missing windshield.

Heat radiated toward her backside. Now the fire comment made sense. The whole vehicle would be an inferno in a matter of minutes. Maybe less.

She righted herself and moved toward Robinson, over sharp bits of glass and jagged metal. The short trip seemed to take an eternity. “Robbie.” She placed two fingers at his neck. Held her breath. Felt a sluggish beat against her fingers.