The Mistaken (45 page)

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Authors: Nancy S Thompson

Tags: #Suspense, #Organized Crime, #loss, #death, #betrayal, #revenge, #Crime, #Psychological, #action, #action suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: The Mistaken
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I stopped just outside the door and heard her
sobbing quietly. I walked to the next room and knocked. Sidorov
opened the door and I stepped just inside with the door cracked. I
watched the orderly return and take Hannah away. It felt like my
heart had been ripped from my chest and taken away with her.

Despondent, and destroyed all over again, I walked
out of the hospital the same way I came in, into the custody of the
FBI, who—without even allowing me to bury my brother—swept me away
to a new life.

Chapter Forty
-
Eight

Hannah

 

Too restless to lie still in my hospital bed one
minute longer, I rose and paced the cold floor of my private room,
mulling over Ty’s every word. I should have asked him to stay. If I
had, perhaps he would have reconsidered. While he might have
guessed how I felt about him, I never actually told him straight
out. And now he had made the decision to leave. I’d never be able
to see or talk to him again. If I’d told him how I really felt,
maybe he would have stayed. We could have fought those charges
together, but I never made the offer, and now my regrets were
mounting.

As I wandered around aimlessly, the police detective
who had tried to interview me as I was being admitted knocked on
the open door of my darkened room. I snapped out of my trance and
looked up. She smiled politely and walked in to re-introduce
herself. I pushed myself back into the shadows.

“Good evening, Ms. Maguire. I’m Detective Michelle
Simmons with the SFPD. We met when you were first brought in to the
emergency room. I know that must have been very difficult for you,
and you’d like nothing more than to forget, but perhaps you
remember me?”

“Yes, Detective, I do.” Though she held out her
hand, I remained standing in the dark, trying my best to hide my
bloodshot eyes and the tears that refused to cease.

She dropped her outstretched arm. “May I come
in?”

“Oh, um…yeah…I suppose.”

“Thank you. I hope this is a good time. We didn’t
get to speak very much before and I need to get a formal statement
from you.” She pulled a chair from the corner and sat down, a small
notepad and pen in hand. It looked as though she planned on staying
awhile. “The status of this case has changed considerably since you
were admitted,” Simmons reported.

“Changed how?”

“Well, as I believe you may already know, this case
is now under federal authority. The SFPD is cooperating with the
FBI on your end due to the multijurisdictional police
investigations.”

“On my end? I don’t understand.”

“Ms. Maguire, after you were identified last night,
a local investigator was sent to your residence. The front door
appeared damaged, so the detective entered on suspicion of a crime
having been committed. He found quite a bit of blood. Your husband
was contacted. He and your son said they had only spoken to you
once in the last few days prior to the incident here in The City.
They said that was unusual and that they were concerned. Your home
was determined to be a crime scene, and your local police
department would like to know what happened. So, if you wouldn’t
mind going over it with me, I could send them and the FBI your
statement and get this whole thing wrapped up.”

My mind spun at warp speed.
Oh my God, Beck and
Conner know! Conner must be so scared. What else has happened? What
have the police uncovered? Where is Tyler, and what has he told
them?

My heart instantly ticked up to a frenzied pace,
beating so loud I was sure she could hear it. The rush of
adrenaline made me nauseous and light-headed. I tried to hide my
nervousness. I had to control the interview. I needed her to trust
me, to believe me. I sucked in a deep breath and released it, slow
and measured. Turning away from Detective Simmons, I walked over to
the large window on the far side of the room and focused on the
lush green of the park below.

“My husband and son…are they all right?” I
asked.

“Yes, Ms. Maguire, they’re fine. I believe they’re
on their way and should be here quite soon, in fact. So I’d like to
get this wrapped up. Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

I sighed, and, with my back still turned on
Detective Simmons, I shook my head.

“Just start at the beginning,” she said.

I took another deep breath. “Well…I had just dropped
my son off at his father’s apartment. My husband and I had recently
separated, and Conner was spending the holiday weekend with him. I
hadn’t been home for more than a few minutes when I heard the bell
ring.”

I became quiet and lost in my thoughts as I inwardly
recalled seeing Ty for the first time. I leaned my shoulder against
the window frame and gazed down at Golden Gate Park, stretching
westward for several miles before me. I had never felt such
consuming despair in all my life. I wrapped my bruised arms around
myself, hoping it would somehow hold me together and keep the
fragments of my heart from escaping the broken shell of my
body.

Detective Simmons asked questions from behind me,
but I couldn’t focus on what she was saying. I tuned her out. I
couldn’t face reliving everything in order to answer her questions,
especially when she broached each one with suspicion. I rolled my
head against the window as I looked down, willing the tears to
stop. I wished I could push through the glass and escape. I wished
the detective would go away and leave me in peace. I wished that I
could erase the last week of my life.

No.

I wished Tyler would come back to me again. To save
me, to hold me, to hurt me. Anything to have him near me once more.
I felt so twisted to want that, but I couldn’t deny what was in my
heart, what I wanted down deep inside.

“Ms. Maguire, I realize this is difficult, but we
really need to continue with your statement. If you would just sit
back down and focus on the timeline, we could get through this much
easier.”

We? Easier? Are you kidding me?
She had no
clue, and if I were to confess everything, she’d probably have me
committed. But maybe I deserved that.

“Ms. Maguire? Would you please come back and
continue? Ms. Maguire?”

I pulled my head away from the glass, sighing with
the amount of effort it took, and wiped away the tears. “Yes,
Detective, just...give me a moment.”

I turned around to face her and walked into the soft
light. As our eyes met, she winced in regret. That made me feel
even more violated, as if she saw the stain I carried, like it was
written all over my body, all over my face. I wondered what she was
thinking. She knew who I was, where I lived, and the bloody trail
left behind there. Would she guess the real reason before I gave
her my version of the story? What could I tell her to alter her
suspicions? The truth was not an option. I vowed to keep that to
myself and twist the facts to serve me better, to serve
him
better. She would never understand. Ty certainly didn’t. Nobody
would. Least of all me.

“Why don’t you lay back down in bed and rest while
we go over all this?” Simmons asked. “I think if you were more
comfortable, you might get through it easier, all right?”

I walked around the bed, clutching the rails for
support. I sat on the edge and pulled my legs up under the rough
sheets. Detective Simmons’ eyes grazed over my body, her lips
pursing at the bruises and scrapes covering my limbs. She turned
her head away and steadied her emotions before she looked back up
with a false smile.

“Okay, you left off when you heard the doorbell
ring. What happened next?”

I laid my head back and recalled the morning that
had changed the course of my life forever. I told her very little,
only what Tyler and I had agreed upon, that he had shown up at my
door, thinking I was Erin, and I had straightened him out. I
described how a strange man had broken in and attacked us both
before we escaped in my car; how he attacked us again at that
Oregon motel; and how Tyler had saved us from certain death. I took
her all the way to the moment I was kidnapped by Dmitri’s man and
delivered to his home. When I was finished, Detective Simmons
peered at me through narrowed eyes as she tried to decipher whether
I was being honest or not.

“So you went willingly with Mr. Karras? You weren’t
taken forcibly from your home…without your consent?”

I sighed and shook my head. “No, Detective, I was
not kidnapped. I went willingly with Mr. Karras. We drove to San
Francisco, and after he informed me that he had straightened
everything out, he bought me a plane ticket home and arranged for a
car to take me to the airport.” I hung my head again, remembering
the true course of events, even as I chronicled the lies. “That was
how I was taken by Dmitri’s man, while I waited for a ride to the
airport.
They
took me, Detective Simmons,
not
Mr.
Karras. He tried his best to protect me, to keep me safe. If it
weren’t for him…well… I don’t want to think about what might have
happened, what would have become of me.”

“So what happened after you were taken from the
hotel?”

I turned away and stared into the darkened room. “I
can’t get into that, Detective. It was…humiliating and…degrading.
The man responsible is dead and no amount of justice can be gained.
So I have no desire to discuss it…with you or anyone else.
Ever.”

Simmons eyed me curiously. “What about Dmitri
Chernov’s role in your kidnapping and assault? Don’t you think he
deserves a measure of justice?”

I was tired of her questions, sick of discussing it.
I didn’t want to think about anything associated with the last five
days of my life. I cocked my head to the side and looked straight
at Detective Simmons.

“Right now, I’m done with all of this. I just want
to go home. It’s the FBI’s problem now, right?” I asked and she
nodded. “Well, then, let them worry about Dmitri Chernov. I’m
finished. With everyone...including you, Detective. So if you
wouldn’t mind, please close the door on your way out.”

Detective Simmons huffed and gathered herself up.
“Okay. That’s all for now, but I’ll be in touch, Ms. Maguire.”

“Actually, Detective, I would rather you weren’t.
You may speak to my attorney, if you must, but otherwise, I prefer
to be left alone and never speak of this again.”

“That’s fine, Ms. Maguire, but the FBI wants
answers. If you don’t talk to me, they might show up asking all
kinds of uncomfortable questions. Is that what you want?”

“What I want is to be left alone. Goodbye,
Detective.”

I closed my eyes and turned my head away,
effectively ending the interview and praying for an end to this
episode of my life.

Chapter Forty
-
Nine

Tyler

 

Eight Months Later

 

I stood outside the door of the federal courthouse
on Market Street in San Francisco and looked around at the city I’d
called home for nearly ten years. A comforting flood of familiar
intimacy overwhelmed me. Even on this chilly winter afternoon, with
the sky a steel grey and threatening rain, I realized how much I
had missed this beautiful city by the bay. Just a few months ago,
I’d been longing for the cool, foggy days of summer and the warm,
sunny days of autumn here in The City. I’d spent last summer
living—or maybe hiding would be more accurate—in Chicago, where the
heat and humidity had nearly driven me mad.

In October, when the FBI had detected a threat
against my life, I was allowed to travel back to Melbourne,
Australia, escorted by my own private special agent, where I marked
what would have been my first wedding anniversary alone in a small,
sparsely furnished apartment, courtesy of the United States
government. It was there I could remember Nick best, as he was as a
boy, unbound by the complications of physical pain and chemical
dependence, carefree and unbridled, his eyes worry-free, and his
laugh spirited.

I needed to remember him that way, before my actions
changed the course of our lives. I had always been so hard on Nick,
my way of keeping him at a distance, of breaking free of my family.
And all he had ever wanted was to be close to his big brother. I
never saw the sacrifices he’d made for me. I was too preoccupied
with my own life, my own anger and resentment.

He was everything I was not, but believed myself to
be. I never
was
that man I saw in the mirror. My disgrace at
coming to terms with that was unbearable. But in the end, Nick had
taught me something: that family meant acceptance without judgment,
forgiveness without condition, and love without expectation. That
all we are is who we surround ourselves with and let into our
hearts. Those were hard-learned lessons.

I took a lot of time to reflect back on my life over
the last year and all that had happened, especially since I’d last
spoken to Hannah late last spring. I vowed never to allow myself to
be ruled by my emotions again, a promise I should have known I
could never actually keep. It just wasn’t in my nature, I
guess.

Now that I was back on American soil, I yearned for
the familiarity of home and the tenderness of loved ones, neither
of which I currently had. It was difficult to be here and no longer
feel at home. Even still, it was wonderful to be standing in San
Francisco again.

I loved its rhythm and vibrancy, the eclectic mix of
cultures, and the endless possibilities to entertain and explore.
Mostly, this was the only place where I’d felt connected and truly
happy. I longed, with every fiber of my body, to feel connected
like that again. But, although I had once called this home, and I
could not imagine living anywhere else, I knew now that it was not
the actual place, but rather the people in my life that had made me
feel that way. And now, without Jillian and Nick here to hold onto,
I felt like a kite with its string cut, flying wildly in the
breeze, not knowing if I would return to earth, and, if I did,
where I would land and what condition I would be in.

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