Swept Away (26 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Seckman

BOOK: Swept Away
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“How did you know?” Tucker asked.

“I called your mom’s to check in on Josie and she told me you were headed to the hospital. And I’ll warn you, I got a call from a reporter to verify the story on my way over here.”

“What the hell? It’s been like fifteen damn minutes.” Tucker rubbed his hands across his face.

“All it takes is a single leak. A nurse, a custodian. Or it could have been the earlier ER visit. I don’t know.”

“Can’t they give her some peace?”

“It’s their job, Tucker. I know it sucks. I know it’s wearing on you, but she’s the story of the hour. On the bright side? When it’s over, there will be another story, and everyone will forget. Or she could get a million-dollar book deal.”

“Screw that.” Tucker banged the back of his head against the wall. “Are they pestering Stone like they do her?”

Shae sighed. “I really don’t know. He takes every opportunity to do interviews, blathering on and on about his pain and love for Josie. Makes me want to vomit. Such a maniacal, egotistical bastard. He approached me after the hearing today. Gave me this.” Shae dug a card out of her purse. “Said he wanted me to give it to Josie. It’s his number. Like all that stops her from being with him is her not having his number. He’s insane. Why can’t the world see it?”

Tucker took the card from her. Shae gave him a look, brow lifted, lips pursed. “Don’t do anything stupid. I mean seriously, if you beat him up—like I thought you were going to in the courthouse? That only adds to his victim persona.”

“Who says I would beat him?”

Shae shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the look of pure hate on your face when you look at him. Or maybe it’s the fact that if Matthew hadn’t grabbed your arm, you’d probably have taken a swing at him this morning?”

“That was impulse. I won’t let that happen again. No need to be sloppy.”

“Oh Tucker, give the number back.”

“No,” he said, slipping it in his pocket.

“You know I have no license in Pennsylvania. I can’t be your defense?” she said it like she was joking, but there was a steely undertone.

“Don’t worry, Shae. I’m not stupid.”

“Stupid, no. Pushed to the edge…”

He smiled. “I’m fine. Go. Do what you need to do, and I’ll keep you posted.”

Once Shae left, Tucker looked at the number on the card, wondering what sort of sick freak does what he did and thinks it’s justified. He had no remorse because he thought it was his right. People like him didn’t deserve the air they breathed.

“Tucker?”

He stood and gave his mom a hug. She patted him on the back. “It’ll be okay. It just has to be.”

He nodded, but didn’t answer. Gripping her tight, burying his face in her shoulder, he cried. After a few minutes, he pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“No need to be sorry.” She took his hand and led him to a dark blue love seat. “This is heart breaking. Not to mention scary as hell. And infuriating. And confusing. Dear God, I watch the news and one guy says it should be a case considered by the Attorney General. Then another says it should be in federal court. Honestly? I don’t think they know what to do with this case.  I heard from a friend who knows a secretary in the circuit clerk’s office that Judge Smith doesn’t buy Stone’s story. That’s a good thing, right?”

Tucker nodded. “Yeah, unless it does go to the Attorney General. Or Shae and Matthew get their change of venue.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

“I suppose they don’t want to risk it. Judge Smith may be neutral, but what if he isn’t? What if the entire township is crooked?”

Marlene hugged her purse. “I suppose you should listen to your attorneys. That’s why they get paid the big bucks.”

Tucker rubbed his eyes. “Nope, they’re doing it for free.”

“Well shit, Tuck, don’t you think you ought to get the best, not the cheapest?”

“Trust me. If we had to pay them, we couldn’t afford them.”

“Oh, well that’s good.” Marlene shifted in her seat until she was facing him. She took a deep breath and said, “Tucker, I think we need to sway the public opinion. Stone whines on TV all the time, why doesn’t Josie tell her side?”

“She passed out talking in court. How the hell could I ask her to stand in front of cameras? Have you heard the shit they ask her? Was she in love with Stone? Why did she lie?”

“Then we find someone nice, maybe Oprah. Oprah was abused. I bet she’d speak out for Josie.”

Tucker took a deep breath. He knew his mother meant well, but how the hell was she planning to get Oprah’s phone number? The improbability of the plan made his spine tight, sending tension to his neck and head and making him snap at his mom. “No one is calling Oprah. Josie is not talking to the press. I’ll deal with this.”

A nurse came to the door. “Mr. Boone?”

Tucker stood. “Yeah?”

“You can see her now.”

Tucker followed the nurse through the hall. “How is she?”

“She’s fine. Anxious to see you,” the nurse said with a smile.

She pushed open a door and waved him on in, then she slipped away.

There she was. Curled up in the bed, she looked too small and delicate for the harsh white walls and beeping monitors in the room. When she spotted him, her face lit up with relief. “Tucker.”

“Hey, sweetie,” he said, rushing to her.

She bit her lip to still it from shaking and held her arms out to him.

Tucker gathered her in his arms and held her. Kissing her forehead, her cheeks, the curve of her jaw. She nestled her face in the hollow of his throat. “I’m sorry, Tucker.”

“Sorry?” he asked. Pulling away a bit, he brushed away her tears. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve taken the deal. It’s my fault.” She started to cry. Her hands wrapped around him, gripping him. He climbed into bed beside her, holding her against him. He hated himself for telling her to take that damn deal.

“No. Josie, no. You can’t think that. This is in no way your fault.” He wanted to ask her about the baby, but he couldn’t form the words. His heart knew, and he wasn’t brave enough to confirm his worst fears.

“The baby’s gone, Tucker. And it’s my fault. I didn’t take care of it. I was selfish, and now I don’t have him anymore. I feel hollow. Like a part of me is gone. I wish…I wish I could go back and do it different. I’d think of him first. Instead, I thought of vengeance and—“

“No, Josie. You weren’t after vengeance. You wanted justice. It was the right thing to do. This would’ve happened either way. You have to believe that.”

Shaking her head against his chest, she said, “No.  It’s my fault. You…you…warned me.” Josie sobbed. He kissed her, held her tight. “No, sweetie, no. It wouldn’t have mattered. Nobody could have taken better care of our baby than you did.”

She burrowed closer, and he wrapped her up and rocked her.

“I’m so sorry, Tucker.”

“Stop it. You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, Josie. I love you so much.”

Tucker held her as she sobbed. His mind replayed all the abuse. Amanda kicking her in the boat. Greg Myers punching her in the head. Her limp body sliding underwater. Cops cuffing her and taking her away. The reporters harassing her. Jeb Stone staring holes in her. It wasn’t fair. She was the most loving person he ever knew. She’d never hurt anyone. Why was it right that she suffered? Why wasn’t it Stone who suffered? Why didn’t he wrap a rope around his neck and do the right thing like Amanda Stone did?

 

Chapter 39

Josie’s cries turned to snuffles and soon her breathing slowed. She was asleep.

He eased himself away, careful not to wake her. The vinyl mattress crackled under him, and he cringed with every sound. Feet on the floor, he tucked the blankets up around her and switched off the light above her head. Gazing down at her, he couldn’t help but think all the things he’d come to believe in the last month were nothing but bull. Things don’t happen for a reason. The universe doesn’t protect the innocent. There was no God, no Heaven, no Hell. Just humans, some good, some wicked. And sometimes the good people needed to keep the wicked in check.

He kissed her hand and headed out into the hall.

His mom was still in the waiting room. She stood as Tucker approached.  “Is she all right?”

“No. She’s heart broken.”

“The baby?”

It wasn’t a topic he wanted to discuss. It hurt to lose the baby. Even though his rational mind told him they could try again, they would never have
this
baby. And this baby was special. It was a promise of a happy ending where fate and benevolent universe conspired together to right wrongs and administer justice. No matter how bad things got in this screwed up situation, that baby gave him hope. Now, all he had was an empty space in his gut that grew bigger and darker as he realized all the assurances he made Josie were no better than lies. He couldn’t promise her anything. Hell, she could go to jail along with Murray and Hetty— Stone could walk away a hero. It was bullshit. All of it.

He shook his head in answer to his mother’s question, but said nothing. He wasn’t going to talk about it. Hell, he was done thinking about it.

His mother said, “I’m so sorry.”

   “I need to get some fresh air. Could you wait with her?”

His mother looked at him with the same skepticism she gave him when he said he was studying at the library on Saturday nights. “What are you doing? Why are you leaving her?”

“They gave her a shot. She’ll be out for hours.”

“Tucker James Boone, what the hell are you planning to do?”

“Nothing. I need to take a walk, so I can think. Please, just stay with her?”

Tucker turned and walked off. His mom followed him to the emergency exit, grabbing at his arm. “Tucker, please, don’t do anything stupid. There will be more babies.”

Tucker brushed her off and left. Screw platitudes. When Ash died, he was supposed to accept it as God’s will and be happy that he died quickly. When Holly died, he was the bad guy. It didn’t matter to anyone that she brought insanity to every portion of her life and crashed her car while she was probably higher than a kite. No, she was vindicated by death, and he was the asshole. There was one good thing left in his life. One. And he promised to protect her. If the system wasn’t going to punish Stone, he would. The son of a bitch would never look at Josie again.

He drove back to the house and went to the basement. Opening the gun safe, he looked over the rifles. He knew the one he wanted and hoped Ed hadn’t left it at his hunting cabin. There in the back corner he spotted it. His lucky 270. It was with this bad boy he’d gotten his first deer and impressed the hell out of his friends by hitting a buck at 460 yards when he was only fifteen. He pulled it out and wrapped it in a blanket. Then he filled his pocket with ammo, though if he was lucky, he’d only need a single shot.

He drove the hour to Applewold with surprising calm. He knew what he needed to do. If Jeb Stone was dead, the problem would be over. Josie’s stress would be gone, and she and Maddy would have their ultimate justice. Tucker pulled over at a dive bar along an old country road. Inside, there was a handful of early evening drinkers already enjoying a beer. Tucker asked the bartender if he could use the phone. The guy handed him an old rotary dial. Tucker thanked him and dialed the number Shae gave him.

When Jeb answered, Tucker said, “Money doesn’t buy everyone’s silence. Meet me at Cisco’s or read about it in the news.”

Then he hung up, thanked the owner, and left.

Cisco’s was an old warehouse for Stone Construction. The place was out of town, isolated—perfect place for a murder. Tucker parked his car along a gravel road that led up a hill away from the warehouse. From this spot, Tucker could look down on the parking lot. He didn’t need to confront Stone; he just needed him to show up.

Tucker left his car and waded into the brush and weeds into the woods along the road. He settled himself in the grass. Rolling the blanket soaked with Josie’s blood into a ball, he set it on the ground and propped his rifle against it. Looking through the scope, he lined it up with the No Parking sign.

He only had to wait a few minutes before a red truck rolled into the lot. The evening sun shined off the glass, so Tucker couldn’t tell if the person in the vehicle was Jeb Stone. Tucker slid the bolt back, and systemically loaded the brass bullets, locking the last one in the chamber. Wrapping a finger around the trigger, his hand was suddenly sweaty. The tall grass blew in the wind and itched his cheek, but he couldn’t move. All he could do was wait and pray, willing God to give Stone the balls to open the door and step away from the truck.

Seriously, dude, have you lost your mind? What are you thinking?

Tucker looked over his shoulder, half expecting to see Ash, or his ghost. But there was nothing but grass and blue sky. Tucker rubbed his forehead with the back of his wrist. The truck door opened a crack. Someone put a foot out.

Tuck, buddy. I warned you about the crossroads. You’re here. You have to make the choice. Don’t let it be the wrong one, dumbass.

In a flash, his brain absorbed an image. Josie clutching his hand, only letting go when a voice told her to push. She was having his baby. It wasn’t their first. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did. She smiled at him. Their life was good.

If he walked away.I

If he didn’t walk away, he’d be the first person the law would come for. There would be ballistics…forensics. Most of that was TV bullshit, but what if they did trace the bullet to this gun? A gun registered to Ed. Tucker closed his eyes and sighed. Ed would never turn Tucker in.

He heard the door slam shut. Looking through the scope, he could see the lines on Stone’s face. It would be so easy to squeeze the trigger, and all of her problems would be gone. He could do it in one bullet. The jackass was staring right at him.

Tucker would have to confess. He couldn’t let Ed take the fall. Chances were good he’d only get ten to fifteen years for a crime of passion. Maybe be out in five with parole? That was worth it. Josie would be free. Maddy would be vindicated. He opened his eyes again. Stone scanned the horizon, so calm. He had to think he was back in control of the world around him. Tucker wanted nothing more than prove him dead wrong. He wanted Stone to try his bullshit on St. Peter and see if he bought the mutual love story. No one escaped final justice. Wasn’t that the promise the universe used to pacify its inhabitants?

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