The Frailty of Flesh (42 page)
Read The Frailty of Flesh Online
Authors: Sandra Ruttan
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction - Espionage, #Suspense, #Thriller, #American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, #Detective and mystery stories, #Legal stories, #Family Life, #Murder - Investigation, #Missing persons - Investigation
Confirmed when he reached his vehicle and found her bag gone.
As he drove he thought about the things that had been said between him and Ashlyn over the past few days, about how much he’d hurt her.
He thought about the ring he’d bought and how much he’d wanted to surprise her Christmas morning.
He thought about Steve. Craig knew he’d let his pride get in the way of simply being there for Ashlyn, for his father. Maybe he didn’t deserve her and this was a sign of what was inevitable, that sooner or later he’d hurt her so deeply he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
It was something he did every time someone got too close. He pushed them away. He’d let his pride come between them.
The darkness he carried inside, all the bitterness and anger he’d struggled to let go of, had just manifested itself in a different way. For once he could plainly see what his grandmother saw when she looked in his eyes and why she wanted nothing to do with him. He didn’t deserve her acceptance, not when he could so quickly turn his back on his own father and the woman he claimed to love.
Instead of supporting the people who were supposed to matter most, he’d betrayed them.
Tain put his arm around Ashlyn as she took her first unsteady step forward, then stopped.
“Are you okay?”
A tear spilled over. “I guess I just went autopilot, you know? I shouldn’t want to stay in the hospital.” She reached up with her free hand and wiped her eye, then looked down at the ground.
“If you need more time we can turn around.”
“No.” Her voice was thick and hoarse. “It’s not that.” She looked up. “I don’t want to go…back to Craig’s.”
“You can stay at my place.”
“Tain.”
“Seriously. I have to leave in the morning for a few days. You can stay until I’m back, or go…” He didn’t say home. She was confused and hurt, the strain on her relationship with Craig compounded by the fact that she couldn’t even reach him.
“I didn’t go to Kelowna when he was in the hospital,” she said as they slowly made their way across the parking lot. Her movements were jerky and labored, the result of the bruising and stiffness. “Can I blame him?”
“You called him when he was in the hospital.”
“He was with a woman.”
“What?”
“The last time I called someone finally answered. A woman. She confirmed it was his cell phone. He was driving back from Kelowna with her yesterday afternoon when Zidani sent me home.”
Tain reached in his pocket and removed his keys. He kept his focus on opening the door, careful not to meet her gaze. Craig had been back for almost twenty-four hours? His house was a crime scene. Tain had left messages there and on his cell. The only way Craig wouldn’t have known about Ashlyn’s attack was if he never went home.
Once they were both buckled in he drove. From the corner of his eye he could see Ashlyn gazing out the passenger window, lost in thought. He didn’t break the silence or push her to talk.
Craig had been debating about whether to try to intercept Tain and Ashlyn before they left when he saw them get in the car. Assuming Tain was taking Ashlyn home, he decided to follow them instead and managed to pull out a few cars behind them.
At first, the route was expected, but then he saw Tain turn off. Craig followed. Maybe they needed to pick something up along the way.
They didn’t stop at any stores, and when Tain turned again Craig realized they were going to Tain’s house. He followed, and when Tain’s truck pulled into his driveway Craig stopped across the street, a few houses down.
Why would they go there first? Craig searched for some reasonable explanation, but even the idea that Tain needed to let his dog out sounded flimsy. Besides, whenever he worked a big case with long hours he left his dog at day care.
The CD he’d had on was a mix, and “One More Time” started playing. He watched Tain and Ashlyn and swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat.
As soon as Tain helped Ashlyn out of the truck she asked, “What aren’t you telling me?”
The doctor had done a good job of gently touching on her injuries and suggested they run some tests over the next few weeks to make sure everything was healing. Perhaps because Ashlyn had never been one to sit still, possibly because she didn’t want to ask in front of Tain, she hadn’t asked the obvious question. She hadn’t pushed for anything, other than to be released.
Moments like this could be awkward. What was just the right way to reach out to her so that she felt supported but didn’t feel uncomfortable? He gently took her hands in his and looked down at her.
“I’m so sorry, Ash.”
At first, her eyes narrowed with confusion, then widened, and he felt her grip on his hands tighten.
“So, he, uh…” She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “That’s what he wants to run tests on. To make sure there’s no internal damage.”
Tain swallowed, nodded, reached up and squeezed her shoulder.
“I knew,” she said as she pulled a hand free and brushed away a tear. “It just wasn’t real until someone said it.” Her face went taut, as though she was fighting to govern every nuance of her expression, so that she wouldn’t lose control.
“I didn’t want you to hear from a stranger. All the times we go and knock on a door and tell someone we’ve never met before…” He swallowed. “I remember what that felt like. People say your whole world falls apart and it sounds so cliché, but it’s like someone just cut your legs off at the knees and knocked you on the ass. You’re in shock, you’re in pain and you don’t know how you’re ever going to get up again, but you’re trying to hold yourself together so that you don’t lose it in front of some stranger.” Tain reached up and put his hand on the side of her head. “You need to grieve. There’s no shame in it.”
Another tear trickled down her cheek, and he could tell she was still struggling to keep herself together. Even outside his house was too public, the day unseasonably bright and cheerful, as though the world was laughing at her. A reminder that life goes on for everyone else, even when your heart is breaking and you’d swear that nothing will ever feel right or good again.
“And if you want to wait until I’m gone it’s okay. I can tell you how frustrated I am about a case or what I think about things we handle on the job, but I’ve never been good at the personal stuff.” Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to form the words, to say to her,
When my daughter died…
It was like she’d said herself. It wasn’t real until someone said it.
It wouldn’t be completely real for her until she said it herself.
Her face crumpled and she leaned forward, her head against his chest.
Tain wrapped his arms around her and just stood there, holding her. Ashlyn’s body shook. Although her cries were muffled they rang in his ears, echoes of the grief he’d pushed down inside himself.
It was so easy for him to remember his daughter then, to remember what it felt like to have her take his face in her small hands and rub her nose against his. Her laugh was infectious. Funny, he’d never wanted children, but from the moment he’d held Noelle in his arms he’d really understood what it meant to love someone wholeheartedly, unconditionally.
He rested his cheek against Ashlyn’s head and didn’t try to quiet her, didn’t patronize her with pat answers and false promises that everything would be okay. In time…Tain had faith in her strength, and his own pain had changed over time. Still there, still powerful, but not all-consuming. It would be the same for her.
He held her and listened to her cry as he blinked back his own tears.
RAVE REVIEWS FOR SANDRA RUTTAN!
THE FRAILTY OF FLESH
“
The Frailty of Flesh
tore me asunder. Rarely has a novel of such art and skill reduced me to a wreck. It moved me in ways I didn’t even know I felt. It’s a kick in the head that is under-writ with sheer compassion.”
—Ken Bruen, Shamus Award–winning
Author of
The Guards
“An unflinching look into the dark heart of family dysfunction,
The Frailty of Flesh
raises difficult questions and shuns easy answers. Sandra Ruttan writes with passion and honesty about every parent’s worst nightmare and the result is an emotionally wrenching experience.”
—Sean Chercover, Gumshoe Award–winning
Author of
Big City, Bad Blood
“Brave, dark and utterly convincing,
The Frailty of Flesh
is guaranteed to break the hardest of hearts. An absorbing read.”
—Allan Guthrie, Theakston Award–winning
Author of
Hard Man
“
The Frailty of Flesh
is not only one of the best procedural thrillers I’ve read in a long time…but the ending knocked me right out of my seat. Ruttan captures the nature of crime in a way few thriller writers ever manage…this is vivid, impressive, gut-wrenching stuff.”
—Russel D. McLean, Crime Scene Scotland,
Author of
The Good Son
“Ruttan has a spellbinding style.”
—
New York Times
Bestselling
Author Clive Cussler
“Ruttan’s deft touch intrigues and satisfies, making her a powerful new force in the mystery field.”
—JT Ellison, Author of
All the Pretty Girls
MORE PRAISE FOR
THE FRAILTY OF FLESH
!
“Ruttan clearly has the potential to be a very successful author…. Lots of talent which I expect will be realized!”
—Maddy Van Hertbruggen, Mystery News
“Sandra Ruttan writes with a machine gun rhythm that pulls you through every unexpected twist and dark turn.”
—Bill Cameron, author of
Lost Dog
WHAT BURNS WITHIN
“Ruttan manages to keep multiple leads and seconds on the same page admirably: she doesn’t drop too many clues in their laps or allow the tension to flag… the straight proceduralism from Ruttan serves the story well through the rewarding climax.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Promising talent Ruttan sets her gritty new detective series in Vancouver. It has a hard-edged feel and intriguing characters… this is a good start to an intriguing series.”
—
Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Well worth adding to any mystery collection.”
—
Library Journal
“One absolute wallop of a novel. Not only does it make you want to know when Sandra Ruttan’s next book is due, but when’s the next flight to Canada.…A totally mesmerizing narrative and a plot that literally burns off the page.”
—Ken Bruen, Shamus Award-winning
Author of
The Guards
“A taut, crackling read with switch-blade pacing.”
—Rick Mofina, Bestselling
Author of
A Perfect Grave
“A well executed procedural with a plot that twists and turns like a bad tempered rattlesnake.”
—Russel D. McLean, Crime Scene Scotland
Other Leisure books by Sandra Ruttan:
WHAT BURNS WITHIN
A LEISURE BOOK
®
November 2008
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
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Copyright © 2008 by Sandra Ruttan
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