These Sheltering Walls: A Cane River Romance (38 page)

            She
started the car and pulled away from Oakland Plantation. Gideon said she deserved
the truth, deserved to tell it and have it told to her.
Ye shall know the
truth and it shall set you free.
As she headed down the long driveway, past
the tall oaks and mossy banyan trees, she finally understood that verse.
Knowing the truth hadn’t been enough. Simply knowing had been a burden and a
curse. But when she spoke it back to the world, with love, everything changed.

                                                                                    ***

            Gideon
pushed through another long set, then rested on the bench. His watch showed
nearly nine o’clock and Gideon swallowed back a wave of fear. It was probably
nothing. No reason to worry. He angled off the bench and reached for his
running shoes. A walk would clear his head. He’d bring his phone. She’d
probably call in a few minutes. She wasn’t an easy target. If anyone approached
her with ill intent, she’d know it. Henry could take care of herself.

            As
he walked out his front door, that’s what he told himself, but a terrible
conviction twisted in his gut. There was a consequence for every action, and
sometimes that action was so dark that a person’s whole life is lived in its
shadow, and everyone who brushed against that shadow would feel the chill. If
Henry was anywhere in his orbit, she would suffer the consequences of his
crimes. 

            He
walked along the river path, swinging at the tall weeds with a stick. He forced
his body to move as he felt his mind turning in on itself. He prayed, his words
matching the rhythm of his heart: 
Keep her safe. Please, keep her safe for
me. Please.

                                                                        ***

            Henry
parked in the little lot behind By the Book and reached for her purse. The
drive from Oakland Plantation had seemed to take forever but she wanted to talk
to Gideon without any distractions. She hoped he hadn’t already gone to bed. It
occurred to her that she didn’t know whether he was a morning person. In some
ways he was a mystery to her. A smile touched her lips. She couldn’t wait to
know everything about him, and it would be easy, since she wasn’t sifting
through lies and half-truths.

            A
twinge of unease went through her at the memory of what he’d said that
afternoon. It was so rare for Gideon to lie to her, especially about anything
that mattered, that it had knocked her off balance. But he’d had a horrible
week. He was probably hiding something very normal. She wished he would confide
in her, but she understood. Every person deserved a little privacy. It was
probably nothing.

            She
locked the car and headed toward the back entrance when her phone beeped. She
paused and touched the screen, hoping it was Gideon, but the message was from
Patsy.
Don’t forget I’m stealing you away tomorrow. Or you’re stealing me
away. Whichever. We’re doing girl things together. Remind your guy he’s coming
to dinner with us, too.

            Henry
sucked in a breath. She’d totally forgotten Patsy’s plans, including the time
she’d be coming over. She hesitated, wondering whether she should text back or
if she should call Gideon first. For a few moments she stood there undecided, then
realized that standing around in a dark parking lot wasn’t helping.

            The
next moment a voice caught her attention. “―they ain’t never gonna catch
you.”

           
Lie.

             Two
men were walking by the hedge between the parking lot and the next building. They
were only a few feet away but hadn’t noticed her there in the dark. One was
heavy, with a shaved head, long beard and tattoos. He would have looked out of
place in the historic district in the daylight, but in the dark he looked all
kinds of wrong.

            The
smaller man stopped walking and turned around. He was barely visible above the
top of the bushes but Henry could hear the fear in his voice. “Ya said Becket
would get busted for what I done, but he’s still walkin’ around. I saw him this
afternoon, right over there.” He jerked a thumb at the river walk.

           
Becket.
What I done.
Shock froze Henry where she stood.

            “Keep
yer voice down,” the bald man growled. “And I got plans for him. I told him
somethin’ and he’s gonna take a trip to New Orleans real soon.”

           
Truth.

            Gideon
hadn’t said anything about a trip.

            The
man went on. “Whether they get him for this or not, he’s gonna do something bad
and get put away again. This time for good.”

            “You
don’t know that. And now Reggie’s makin’ noise about comin’ back to town ‘cause
of his kid. He says he made a mistake gettin’ involved and won’t cover for us.
He talks big but he’s scared of Becket. We’re all gonna go down if he gets
picked up.” He kept shifting his feet, as if he wanted to run but knew there
was nowhere to hide.

            “You
just keep yo’self  quiet. I’m tellin’ you, Becket’s gonna take the fall. He
can’t pass up the opportunity for a little revenge.” Henry didn’t need to see
his face to hear the smirk. “Once a killer, always a killer.”

            Revenge.
What they said about Gideon’s plans didn’t make any sense. Henry swallowed hard
and took a few steps toward the men, trying to keep the gravel from crunching
under her heels. If she could get a look at them, she could give a description
to the police.

            “I
dunno. He’s been in and out of that station a coupla times and they didn’t file
no charges.”

            The
bigger man stepped forward until their chests were almost touching. “You’ll
keep yer trap shut and do what I―”

           
BEEP.

            Henry
stared at her phone, the screen shining brightly in the darkness as Patsy’s
next text arrived.
Are you ignoring me? Call me!

            She
heard the men moving through the hedge before she even looked up from the
screen. She should run or scream, but Henry did nothing but stare open-mouthed as
they rushed toward her.

            “What’ve
we got here?” The bigger man grabbed her by the arm and plucked the phone from
her hand. He poked at the screen. “Calling somebody? Or were you just stupid
enough to be holdin’ your phone while you were tryin’ to spy on us.”

            “I
wasn’t… I didn’t…” Henry finally knew what it meant to be paralyzed with fear.
For all her skill in lying, at that moment she couldn’t seem to think of
anything to say.

            “I
bet she heard it all. Now what are we gonna do?” The shorter man was pacing
back and forth, his movements jittery. He reached back and pulled a gun from
his waistband. “We gotta take care of her.”

            Henry
thought of screaming for Alice, but Paul was in New York and there was no one
else in the building. Alice would take charge. Alice, alone and pregnant with
her first baby, would come to her rescue.

            “I
didn’t hear anything,” Henry said as quietly as she could. “I was coming home
from work and stopped to read my texts.”

            The
littler man stopped pacing. “What if she’s telling the truth? We wouldn’t have
to do anything at all.”

            “Ya
just waved a gun at her, stupid. You think she’s not gonna say something now?”

            “Right.
You don’t have to do anything. I just want to go home.” Henry started to move
away.

            “No,
I think we should talk somewhere else. Anybody waiting for you? Where do ya
work, honey?” He leaned closer to her and she could smell beer and onions on
his breath.

            “Oakland
Plantation. I just… do tours and things.” Henry watched him think that over.
Someone was waiting for her, but she didn’t want him to get in the middle of
this, either.

            “Tours?
Like about the history?”

            She
nodded.

            “So,
you know all the historians in town?” He was already smiling, moving even
closer, his fingers digging into her flesh.

            “I―
no. I don’t.” She couldn’t get enough breath in her lungs. She had the horrible
sense that the man could see Gideon in her somehow, see how she loved him and
would do anything to protect him.

            The
next second his hand slapped over her mouth and she twisted away from him, only
to slam into a solid body on the other side. The gun was shoved into her ribs
and she flinched from the pain. “Just calm down, missy,” he breathed in her
ear. “We’re gonna go for a little walk.”

            Henry
had always heard that being taken to a second location during a kidnapping was
the worst move a person could make. She started to fight, throwing her elbows
out and kicking her feet. She’d always thought of herself as strong and
substantial but they propelled her easily back through the hedge.

            “Shut
up,” the short man growled and Henry realized she’d been screaming against the
hand over her mouth. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

           
Lie.

“A thing may happen and be a total
lie; another thing may not happen

and be truer than the truth.”

― Tim O'Brien

            Gideon
dropped to the porch steps and waited for his pulse to slow. His walk had
turned into a run, and the run had turned into the conviction that he needed to
call Henry. It was late and everyone who needed to be up at a decent hour was
already in bed, but he couldn’t convince himself otherwise. No matter what how
he argued with the worry, it lingered and grew stronger until he felt like his
chest had steel bands around it.

            He
stared at the bright blue screen of his phone and reminded himself that the
worst that could happen would be waking Henry from a deep sleep. She might be
groggy or snap at him. The thought almost made him smile. He would brave an
angry Henry if it meant he could stop worrying.

            Touching
her number, he put the phone to his ear and listened to the ring tone. After a
few seconds, the knot in his stomach tightened. A few seconds more and his
mouth went dry when it clicked over to voicemail.

            “Hey,
it’s me. Just hoping you’re at home safe. Call me if you’re awake.” Gideon
disconnected and sat motionless. The crickets, usually so soothing, made him
feel like someone was drilling into his skull. He suddenly hated living next to
the river. A few minutes later, he called again. And again.

            Standing
up, Gideon could feel his pulse all the way to his feet. His face was dripping
with a cold sweat, more than during his run.
It’s nothing. She’s fine.
In a sudden flash of clarity, Gideon wished he’d been in therapy for years. He
wished that he could stand outside himself and look in, knowing whether his
anxiety was real, or a complete fabrication of his own mind.

            He
called Henry again. No answer. Somehow he found himself inside the house,
pacing the darkened living room, even though he didn’t remember opening the
door. The shadows played tricks with his mind, showing Sandoz’s body on the
carpet, then making it disappear.  He was alone in the world with no one but
ghosts for company. He called her again. And again.

            He
imagined her car crumpled against a tree, or maybe she’d never made it that
far. Maybe she was back at the plantation, at the mercy of the kind of people
he used to live with, day in and day out, in prison. He never should have let
her go alone. He’d failed her.

            Gideon
turned and punched the door frame, over and over, until his knuckles were
aching and bloody. If he were a normal man, he would know what to do. If he had
tried harder to get well when he had the chance, if he’d taken Alanna up on her
offer of friendship or whatever it was,  and if he hadn’t let himself slide
into the darkness, he would know what step to take.

            Rage
choked him as he turned, kicking the rocker on its side. He wanted to smash
everything he loved. He wanted to burn this place to the ground, himself inside
it. If he had listened to Tom and all his psychology when he had the chance, he
would know what was happening and wouldn’t be spiraling down―

           
Tom.
Gideon stopped moving, his body shaking with grief and anger. Tom would always
answer when he called. He looked down and realized his hands were empty and
bruised, the phone thrown or dropped somewhere in the dark. It took a minute to
manage the lamp switch, and another minute or so to find the phone in the far
corner of the room. It still worked.

            Tom
answered on the second ring. “Gideon?”

            He
couldn’t answer for a moment, the relief was so strong. “Henry,” he choked out.

            “What
happened? Where is she?”

            “I
don’t know.” Gideon knew he wasn’t making any sense but it was all he could do
to clutch the phone to his ear. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s
real and what’s in my head.”

            “Where
are you?” Gideon could hear rustling and a faint clink of keys.

            “I’m
home.”

            “I’m
coming over. Don’t move. Don’t do anything.” There were more sounds, a door being
opened and shut. “Will you just sit still until I get there? Or do you want me
to stay on the phone?”

            “I’ll
wait for you.” Gideon didn’t hang up. He listened to the click and sat without
moving until a quarter of an hour later when Tom ran up the front steps.

            Alarm
flashed in Tom’s eyes as he took in Gideon’s bloody hands. He knelt down next
to him and asked softly, “Where’s Henry?”

            “I
don’t know. She said she would call when she got home. But she didn’t call.”
Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts, Gideon heard how crazy he sounded and he
clutched his head. “There’s something wrong with me, Tom.”

             “Did
you try and reach her?”

            “Yes.”
He thought so. Or maybe he’d imagined it. Holding up the phone, he scrolled
through his calls. Seven calls to Henry. He hadn’t remembered that many.

            Taking
the phone from him, Tom tapped the number and held it to his ear. After a few
minutes he disconnected. “Maybe she’s asleep.”

            He
nodded. Of course. That was what had happened. She’d simply forgotten. “I tried
to stay calm. I just kept seeing…” The darkness of the world prowled around
every day, looking for ways to create misery and anguish. He knew what sort of
people walked the earth, right in Henry’s footsteps, maybe right beside her. There
was no innocence left for Gideon. He knew how depraved and how cruel a human
being could be.

            “And
then I couldn’t tell if I was going crazy or not.” Clearly, he had and he was.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up. It’s stupid.”

            “I’m
glad you did,” Tom said. “And I’ll always be here to give you a reality check.
You can depend on it. Don’t ever feel like you’re bothering me, big brother.”

            Gideon
nodded. His carefully ordered life has been a lie, and he hadn’t even known it.
He finally saw himself clearly and the man underneath was in a desperate
struggle to survive.

            “Okay,
so what can we do now?” Tom rubbed a hand over his face. He looked like he’d been
scared out of his sleep. His T-shirt was on backwards and he wasn’t wearing
socks with his shoes. “We can drive over and see if her car is there, make sure
she made it home. Or we can call Alice to check on her.”

            Gideon
felt overwhelming gratitude that Tom hadn’t given the option of simply going
back to bed. “We’ve moved from sitting outside her house all night to just
driving by.”

            “That’s
progress,” Tom said. He smiled but his eyes were tense. “Gideon, you know that
you have to get some help. There’s no shame in it.”

            Three
months ago, Gideon would have been offended and angry. A month ago, he would
have agreed but never done a thing about it. Tonight, he dropped his head and
wept.

            After
a while, Tom helped him to his feet and they started for Natchitoches. They
didn’t speak much as they drove the winding road back to town. Gideon finally
understood why Henry said he’d carried her heart into that fire. She was only
working late, and he had nearly lost his mind.

                                                                        ***

            Henry
couldn’t see where they were going, just glimpses of bushes and the side of a
building. She was dragged down a set of old stairs and heard the rattle of
keys. “Get her in here before anybody sees,” one of them said.

            It
was an old basement like the Finnemore house. She could smell the damp stone
and stink of black mold. The door slammed behind them and the bigger man
flicked on a light. He threw her down as easily as kicking off a shoe. “Barney
was an idiot and I enjoyed stranglin’ the life outta him,” he said. “But I
think I might enjoy you a little more.”

            Henry
looked around the empty basement, already knowing there was nothing she could
use as a weapon. Her phone was long gone and one shoe was missing. She was
completely helpless. No one would hear her screams.

            “So,
what’s your name, honey?” He crouched down and smiled, and it was a smile that
chilled her to the bone.

            She’d
heard stories of kidnap victims talking their way to freedom but didn’t know
where to start. She hung her head, thinking of Patsy and wishing she could see
Jack grow up. She thought of Kimberly and how they had just learned to be
honest with each other. She thought of Gideon and there were no words, just
images of sitting across from him at the table, his smile, the way he cupped
her face when he kissed her. All he would feel is guilt when they discovered
her body. He’d never realize how he’d changed her life for the better in so
many ways. Henry felt tears trickle down her face. He’d once told her she
deserved to tell the truth, and that had changed everything.

           
The
truth.

            She
lifted her head. “I have a lot of money. I can make it worth your while to let
me go.”

            The
little man started to laugh. “Someone who gives tours at the plantations ain’t
got the kinda money we like.”

            “No,
but Kimberly Gray is my aunt. She’s got millions.”

            For
the first time, the bigger man gave her an appraising look. “And how would we
get this money?”

            “You
let me contact her. She delivers the money to a place you say. I get released.”

            They
exchanged glances.

            “She
can get hundreds of thousands in cash just walking in her bank. I’ve seen her
do it.” Henry had always thought she was a good liar. She’d nodded and smiled
and repeated lies she’d been fed. But now she could hear herself twist the
words until it was indistinguishable from the truth. A lifetime of studying
good lies and bad lies turned into a few short sentences that just might save
her life. “She’s got an offshore account and some financial advisors that help
her hide most of her money. She can get cash that won’t be traced.”

            The
younger man paced the basement. “She don’t even live here. How would she get it
to us?”

            “She’s
flying in tomorrow morning. I’ll call her. She’ll bring it.”

            “I
don’t think you know her. Lots of people say they do, and they only seen her
walkin’ down the street.”

            “Check
my phone. She called me about half an hour ago.” Henry glanced around. “It’s… I
must have dropped it. You’ll have to go back and get it.”

            The
big guy stood up. “Nah. You’re trying to trick us into going back out there.”

            Henry
said nothing, just stared back at the two of them.

            “She’s
right. We need to get the phone before someone finds it there and tries to
track her down.”

            “What
if it’s got that GPS thing? It’ll lead them right to us.” They were facing off
now, getting angrier by the moment. Henry knew who would bear the brunt of
their anger.

            “I
can turn it off. There won’t be any way to trace it,” Henry said.

            “I
dunno. I think she’s tricking us.”

            “No
tricks. I’ll call her, we can arrange how much and where. You get the money,
and tell her where I am as soon as you’re out of town.” Henry hoped she was
making sense. She wished she’d watched more movies. Her reading tastes didn’t
ever have hostage crises or kidnappings for ransom. Maybe she was dooming
herself. If Gideon were here, he would see the flaw in her plan, or the trap in
theirs. At the thought of him, she felt her eyes start to burn but she
swallowed back the tears. No one was going to come to her rescue. It was up to
her to get out of this.

            “Okay.
Keep the gun on her. Don’t get close. Shoot her if she makes trouble.” The bald
man threw Henry a wink. “I’m gonna go get yer phone. Make yourself
comfortable.”

            As
the heavy basement door slammed behind him, Henry glanced at the younger man. He
paced the basement, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pale skin. He was too
thin and the dark circles around his eyes spoke of drug use or chronic sleep
deprivation.

            He
saw her watching and raised the gun. “Stop starin’ at me.”

            She
dropped her head and looked at her feet. Somewhere on the path between the
buildings was her other red heel, her purse and her phone. Surely someone would
think that was suspicious. But then, it was late at night and pedestrians
usually stayed along the river walk. She closed her eyes and prayed, the words
carrying unfamiliar tones of panic and fear. She’d always prayed for others, or
out of gratitude, or even simply out of duty. Now she prayed the way a person
does who has reached the last hours of her life.

            Ten
minutes later, the door opened and the bald man strode in, dropping her purse
onto the ground. He held up the phone. “Took me a while to find it.” He tapped
at the screen. “How this thing work, anyway?”