Whisper (24 page)

“Keith?”

He drew a heavy breath and let it out. “You drop off the face of the earth for a few days and Mark goes nuts. It drives the rest of us crazy too, Nomad. Why didn’t you call?”

“Been busy. I’m getting a promotion.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Took a while, but they’re moving me up. I’ll be closer to her now.”

“Look you half wit, catch a plane or drive that truck home.”

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“Can’t.”

His heart pumped a little faster. “Why the hell not?”

“I just wanted to tell you so you won’t worry.”

“Yeah, well you’re making me worry. Come home.”

“I’ll call when I can.”

“Nomad!”

The kid hung up before Keith could yell again.

The cell phone wound up tossed on the passenger seat. He pulled into a gas station, parked and gripped the steering wheel. The urge to fly to San Diego and grab Nomad by the scruff seemed too strong to ignore. He wanted to grab Whisper too,
kidnap
her and hold on until she didn’t try to get away. He’d do it gently though. He’d feed her and make her sleep. She’d eventually feel safe again.

She’d stop hurting too. The kids being close could do that for her.

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he wiped it with annoyance.
His leg
. He’d give his leg to see her again, alone. Ten minutes of her undivided attention for a leg wouldn’t turn into regret down the road. He’d have the time with her.

Even if he flew to California, he’d never get close. Maynard stopped by one evening and they’d talked. Maynard checked things out, called in some favors and ventured Keith wouldn’t get into her gated community, much less to her front door.

“Jesus Christ!” Keith’s fist hit the dash before he covered his face with a hand. The kids were coming apart; he was coming apart. He hadn’t lied. He loved her. A knock on the window made him look up. It took a minute to focus.

“You called?” Miles stood outside, smiling. He headed around the front of the SUV, opened the passenger door, placed the cell phone on the dash 204

Whisper

and got in.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Keith asked.

“Nice day, no wind. I walked down here to grab a different flavor of coffee. Want some?” He held out the paper cup with a lid.

“No. Thanks.”

Miles sipped and looked ahead. Keith couldn’t think, much less formulate sentences. Miles didn’t seem to mind. He sat quietly enjoying his coffee.

Eventually, Miles asked, “You come here often?” The words penetrated but he couldn’t grasp the meaning. When Miles raised his eyebrows and winked, Keith burst into laughter. Keith eventually sighed. “I’m not having the very best day.”

“Oh, no, not a sob story!”

“I owe you one, but don’t worry. You won’t have to hear it.”

“Good. It’d make me feel bad. Now where were you heading?”

“Shit, doctor’s appointment. I’ll drop you at the shelter.”

“No need. My schedule’s free the rest of the day.

I’ll go for a drive with you.”

“It could take a while.”

“I have time. You might even decide to share that story. I bet it has something to do with that
dish
Whisper.”

Heading out of the parking lot, he glanced at the preacher.

“What’s that look for?” Miles asked.

Keith grinned. “
Dish
?”

“You know—cutie?”

“You don’t get out enough, Miles.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told. How is she, by the way?

Whisper.”

Keith could only imagine the look on his face. He felt like his friend punched him in the gut. He was 205

Kathleen Lash

back to wanting to beat the dash.

“Bushhh,” Miles said, making the sound he used to when they played kids game a few decades ago. It was supposed to sound like a torpedo sinking a ship.

“Direct hit! Score one for Miles!”

“For a man of God, you’ve got a sick sense of humor.”

“I must have to keep you as a friend. Spill it.

Even Jesus had moments where he had a hard time coping. Not that I’m comparing the two of you, because you’re not remotely similar. In fact, with your language…”

The diversion Miles provided might not be so bad after all. It’d been more than a week since Keith found something funny. An hour or so with the preacher might be good for his temper. Depending on what the doctor said, it just might be wise to have someone with him. Limited emotionally at the moment, if he took another direct hit, he’d fly over the edge.

****

Nomad casually came close. “You holding up, Whisper?”

She nodded and he kept walking. He blended and never drew attention, but managed to stay very close to her the last few weeks. His ability to walk on the fringes suited his purpose. He refused to leave.

With Doug becoming more and more irrational, she found herself thankful Nomad had been so stubborn.

Gradually backing her way into a dark corner of the privacy fence, she relaxed. Not too many people 206

Whisper

approached her because no one thought she could speak. Doug told everyone during her prolonged absence, she’d undergone treatment to fix her poor, broken little voice. A failed surgery gave him an alibi for her silence.

Ben worked his way through people and eventually stood in front of her, blocking her from anyone else’s view. The only way to avoid him would be a hasty retreat to her left. She didn’t take it.

Instead, she crossed her arms and looked down.

She’d rather face Ben than Doug any day.

“I never get a chance to talk to you. Doug keeps the lease tight these days, doesn’t he?” She didn’t trust him. Until a few years ago, he’d been using and drinking and ignoring his wife and their three children. He’d been lucky, gaining sobriety while retaining his family and career. She wondered what her father might’ve been like without the booze.

“I wanted you to know—wanted to tell you that you can come to me if you need anything. I never realized what Doug put you through. If your dad had any idea what an ass the boy is, he would’ve killed him.”

No he wouldn’t.
Even if her father spent his days sober, he didn’t care enough to do a thing. Her father protected her once. Ben reached out and she backed into the fence. He didn’t need to touch her, and she especially didn’t need Doug seeing him so close.

“Come stay with me, Barb, and the kids. That son of a bitch won’t get within a hundred feet of you.

I’d make sure of it.”

She wondered if he’d gone crazy. Doug controlled the money. His management of the band was a joke, but he still held the purse strings. Ben wouldn’t put all that money aside for her.

“I have an attorney working on things. Me and 207

Kathleen Lash

the guys are seeing what we can do to put Doug into retirement. We’re close; the attorney found something to work with.”

If they crossed Doug, they’d all pay. If the rest of the band united and tried to oust him, Doug would kill her, whether she’d been a part of the defiance or not. If she ran again, he’d get Heather back. He made sure legally, he could change his mind. She’d been warned to behave
.
He laughed when he said he
owned
her. He owned her, all right, but only until Heather turned eighteen. Not a second beyond.
If I
live that long
.

“Wendy!” Doug bellowed.

She darted past Ben and rushed to her ex. As she neared, he fell getting up from his seat. When people laughed, he did too, in a furious sort of way.

Without warning, he shoved her backward and she fell into the pool. Stunned by the impact, she gasped and took in water. The sound of the party died and everything grew peaceful.

The next thing she knew, someone held her and kept hitting her back as she coughed and choked pool water from her lungs. Nomad held her until she could breathe. Through blurry eyes, she spotted Doug stumbling toward them. Her arms wrapped around Nomad as she buried her face against his neck. She couldn’t take more of Doug’s rage or torment.

Nomad should’ve left her at the bottom of the pool. After so long without a kind word, or gentle touch, she didn’t see the point of living. She’d gone from Wendy to Whisper, to—nothing. Tremors formed deep inside and vibrated outward. His arms held her but it wasn’t enough. His palms flattened against her spine to pull her closer.

“No more,” she begged, sobbing afterward.

“Done,” he replied.

Keith finally managed to work his way around 208

Whisper

the house and into the gated back yard. Nomad had called two days prior and told him about the party and the possibility of Keith getting close enough to see Whisper. A plan formed after forty-eight hours of contemplating what to do. He would beat Doug Neuman to within an inch of his life before grabbing Whisper and leaving. He’d worry about the ramifications down the road. Nomad’s calls had become more frequent. Sometimes he’d call twice a day. The kid was in over his head and didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t find an opportunity to grab Whisper and run. With Keith there, the time had come.

As he eased his way through the crush of bodies, he saw Nomad sitting on a chair holding Whisper, both of them soaking wet. More forcefully, he shoved people aside and limped quickly until he reached them. Nomad glanced up. Relief washed over his face. Whisper didn’t move.

“What happened?” Keith stroked her hair with a trembling hand before pulling her into his arms.

Gasps and worried noises made Keith turn. A crowd gathered around a man lying on the ground.

“Does anyone know CPR?” someone asked.

A number of people pulled cell phones out.

Multiple voices described the man’s condition. A woman who’d been attempting to revive him eventually said, “Still no heartbeat. I think he’s dead.”

Nomad stood. “You need to leave.” Whisper lay limp in his arms. “Like hell. I have her and I’m not letting her go.”

“You can’t be here when the cops start asking questions.”

“We won’t be.”

“Looks like her dumbass ex just died.” His voice dropped. “If Whisper disappears, they’ll find her.

When they do, they’ll want to know why she ran. I 209

Kathleen Lash

bet if they did a little research, they’d look damned hard at her relationship with you.”

“We’ll handle whatever happens.”

“If people start talking about how Doug’s been treating her, the police might wonder about her getting some payback. With you here…” The last thing he wanted to do was walk away.

Nomad reached for her. “Don’t cause her more trouble. Give it a few days and you’ll see her. Please, Keith, trust me.”

“Call me. I’ll stay in town. If she needs anything, you call,” he said before reluctantly handing her over. “Go now. Hurry.”

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Keith spent days pacing the confines of the hotel room, receiving frequent updates from Nomad regarding the investigation into Doug Neuman’s death. He kept stamping down the urge to go to Whisper, hold her and help her through the ordeal.

Nomad said she walked around in a stupor and slept a lot while the police badgered her to answer questions by writing them down. As preparations for a burial were made, he flew Heather, Mark, Corey and Billy out to California. Heather wanted to go to her brother’s funeral. She wanted Corey there with her. With the possibility of seeing Whisper again, Mark and Corey insisted on coming too. If nothing else, they provided a great diversion the day before the service.

He kept Heather and Corey in the background at the cemetery. Mark and Billy took in some sights.

Billy had never been to a memorial service. Keith would be damned if
Doug Neuman’s
would be his first. Heather cried while standing between him and Corey, but not the type of tears he’d expected. She cried over the lost opportunity to ever know her brother without the drugs.

One of the last to arrive at the gravesite, Whisper stepped out of the limo. She walked between Ben and Nomad. Her pale face, haunted eyes and sunken cheeks, appeared more pronounced against the black dress.
God, what she must’ve gone
through.

It’d be asking a lot for Whisper to forgive them.

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He’d have the opportunity that very evening. With the police investigation concluded, Nomad would step out of the picture and Keith would get to spend some time with her. If things didn’t go too badly, he’d beg her to let the kids visit. Heather needed to see her and apologize. The guilt the kid carried around would eventually have her on some anti-depressants. God, he hoped things went better than they did in his dreams.

The reverend started speaking and heads bowed. Keith leaned heavily on the cane. His leg throbbed from the unfamiliar freedom of movement.

The new brace offered minimal support. Without the bulk or stability of the cast, he found himself tiring quickly and having to concentrate on walking. It looked like there wouldn’t be more surgeries in his future. Miraculously, his leg continued healing better than anyone thought possible. In time, he’d get rid of the brace, cane and hopefully the limp.

After some brief words over the casket, Nomad and Ben stepped back, allowing Whisper a moment alone with her ex. She hadn’t shed a tear and something dawned on him. He’d only seen her cry once. It happened after they made love. The painful memory twisted his insides.

Corey and Heather walked toward the rented car as the crowd dispersed. Keith remained, waiting for Whisper to leave. How could a woman as gentle and breakable as her, ever move beyond so much pain?

Something sparkled on Whisper’s chest. A small diamond glittered in the sunlight. He bowed his head and fought to control the wave of emotion ripping through his chest. She wore the necklace he’d given her. She wore it to her ex-husband’s funeral.