Page 56 of Birthright


  “Fire purges. You should never have hired her. You should never have started poking around in something that didn’t matter to you.”

  “I was curious. Let her go now, Dory. There’s no point in hurting her. She didn’t do anything. I did.”

  “I could kill you.” She lifted the gun, trained it on Callie’s heart. “Then it would be over for you. But that’s just not good enough. Not anymore.”

  “Why Bill?” Callie inched forward as Dory stepped back.

  “He was handy. And he asked too many questions. Didn’t you notice that? What’s this, what’s that, what are you doing? Irritated the hell out of me. And he kept wanting to know about the grad classes I was taking, about my training. Just couldn’t mind his own business. Just like you. Why, look what I found.”

  She shoved with her foot again, and another bound figure rolled toward the water. “Running rings around you. See? I’ve got both your mothers.”

  Jake came in from the east side of the woods. Quiet and slow, without a light to guide him.

  Letting her go alone had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  He kept low, straining his ears for any sound, his eyes for any movement.

  The sound of voices made his heart trip, but he forced himself not to spring up and run toward them. He was armed with only a kitchen knife now. It had been the closest thing to grab, and time was all that mattered.

  He shifted direction, moving through the dark toward the sound of voices. And stopped, heart hammering, when he saw the human outline standing in front of an oak.

  No, not standing, he realized and, signaling for silence, crept closer.

  Two figures, two men. Callie’s fathers were bound to the tree, gagged. Their heads sagged onto their chests.

  He held up a hand again as he heard the indrawn breath behind him.

  “Probably drugged,” he whispered. “Cut them loose.” He passed the knife to Doug. “Stay with them. If they come to, keep them quiet.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Jake, she’s got both of them.”

  “I know it.”

  “I’m going with you.” He closed a hand over his father’s limp fingers, then gave the knife to Digger. “Take care of them.”

  Callie’s heart went numb. The mother who had birthed her, the mother who had raised her. Now both their lives depended on her. “You . . .you’re right. You’ve run rings around me. But you didn’t do this alone. Where’s your father, Dory? Can’t you face it, Richard? Can’t you face it even now?”

  “Figured that out, did you?” Grinning widely, Dory gestured with her free hand. “Come on out, Dad. Join the party.”

  “Why couldn’t you leave it alone?” Richard stepped out beside his daughter. “Why couldn’t you let it stay buried?”

  “Is that what you did? Just accepted. Never looked? How long have you lived wondering, Richard? How can you let this happen now? You’re just like me. He took you. Never gave you a choice. Never gave anyone a choice.”

  “He did it for the best. Whatever he was, he gave me a good life.”

  “And your own mother?”

  “She didn’t know. Or didn’t want to know, which amounts to the same thing. I walked away from him, walked away from my father and what he was doing.”

  Her palms were sweating, and still they itched for the knife in her boot. She could kill, she realized, to save her mother—her mothers—she could kill without hesitation. “And that was enough? Knowing what you knew, you did nothing to stop it.”

  “I had a child of my own to think of. A life of my own. Why sully it with scandal? Why should my life be ruined?”

  “But you didn’t raise that child. Dorothy did. With plenty of influence from Marcus.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” he insisted. “I was barely twenty. What was I supposed to do!”

  “Be a man.” Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Dory watching Richard. Probe the right spot, she ordered herself. Carefully, carefully. “Be a father. But you let him step in and take over. Again. He twisted her, Richard. Can you stand there and let this go on? Can you be a part of it? Can you protect her now, knowing she’s killed?”

  “She’s my child. Nothing that’s happened was her fault. It was his, and I won’t let her be hurt now.”

  “That’s right. Not my fault,” Dory agreed. “It’s yours, Callie. You brought it all on yourself.” She glanced down at the women sprawled at her feet. “And them.”

  “All you need to do is go away for a few weeks,” Richard said. “Disappear long enough to stall the police investigation so that I can get Dory somewhere safe. So I can arrange for Dorothy’s release. Without you, they lose their most vital link. That’s all you have to do.”

  “Is that what she told you? Is that how she talked you into spying on the house, into helping her blow up the trailer? Is that how she convinced you to help her do this tonight? Are you so blind you can’t see she’s only interested in causing pain? In revenge?”

  “Nobody else has to get hurt,” he insisted. “I’m asking you to give me time.”

  “She’ll just lie.” Dory shook back her hair. “She’ll say what she thinks you want to hear. She wanted my grandfather to pay. My mother to pay. Everyone to pay. But she’ll pay now.”

  Crouching, she held the gun to one blond head.

  “Dory, no!” Richard shouted even as Callie sucked in air to scream.

  “Which one will you save?” She shoved the other figure into the water. “If you dive in after her, I’ll shoot this one. If you try to save this one, the other drowns. Tough call.”

  “Dory, for God’s sake.” Richard lurched forward, only to freeze when she swung the gun at him.

  “Stay out of this. You’re pathetic. Hell, let both of them drown.” She shoved the limp body into the pond, then aimed the gun at Callie. “While you watch.”

  “Go to hell.” Braced for the bullet, Callie prepared to dive.

  She sensed the movement, barely registered it as Jake rushed out of the trees. She was in the air, over the water, when she heard the shot.

  She felt the sting, a quick bite of pain across her shoulder, but she was in the water, swimming desperately to where she’d seen the first of her mothers slide under.

  She still didn’t know which one.

  But she knew she’d never save them both.

  She filled her lungs with air and plunged. She was blind now, diving deep into the black, praying for any sign of movement, any shape.

  Her lungs burned, her limbs went heavy and weak in the cold water, but she pushed down, farther down. And when she saw the glimmering shadow, gritted her teeth and kicked with all her strength.

  She grabbed hair, pulled. With no time to use the knife, she hooked a hand under rope, using it to tow as she kicked hard toward the surface. Lungs screaming, muscles weeping, she hauled the dead weight up.

  White lights danced in front of her eyes. She prayed it was moonlight on the surface. She was clawing at the water now, fighting not to panic as it seemed to come alive and drag her down. Her boots were like lead, and her right arm quivered from the strain.

  When her air gave out, she flailed, struggled against her body’s desperate need to breathe. Weakened, floundering, she began to sink.

  Then she was rising up again as hands pulled her toward the surface.

  She broke through, choking, coughing up water, wheezing as air, blessed air, filled her lungs. Still she shoved weakly at Jake as he towed them both toward the bank.

  “No. The other one. The other went in a few feet up. Please.”

  “Doug’s in. It’s all right. Get her up. Let’s get her out. Take her!”

  She thought he shouted to someone on the bank, but she couldn’t see. The white dots swimming in front of her eyes had gone red, swirling. Her ears were ringing. More hands grabbed for her as she started to crawl her way out.

  She rolled toward the unconscious figure, pushed at the hair. And saw Suzanne’s face.

  “Oh God, o
h God.” She cast one desperate look toward the pond. “Jake, please, God.”

  “Hold on.” He dove back into the water.

  “Is she breathing?” With shaking fingers, she pushed at tangled hair to try to find a pulse. “I don’t think she’s breathing.”

  “Let me.” Lana pushed her aside. “Lifeguard, three summers.” She tipped Suzanne’s head back and began mouth-to-mouth.

  Callie shoved herself up, staggered toward the water.

  “No.” Matt held the gun now, kept it trained on Dory as she lay facedown on the ground. Richard sat beside her, his head in his hands. “You’d never make it, Cal. Then somebody’ll have to jump in for you. Cops’re coming,” he said as the sirens cut the air. “Ambulance, too. We called both as soon as we heard the gunshots.”

  “My mother.” Callie looked toward the pond, back toward Suzanne. Then simply collapsed to her knees when three heads broke the surface.

  She heard the wretched coughing behind her. “She’s breathing,” Lana called out.

  “Somebody cut those ropes off her.” Trying not to weep, Callie crawled over to help pull Vivian to shore. “Cut those goddamn ropes off her.”

  A hand came out of the water, took Callie’s wrist. “We got yours,” Doug managed.

  Callie reached out. “We got yours.”

  Epilogue

  Shortly past dawn Callie walked into the hospital waiting room. It was a scene she’d seen too many times to count, but this time it warmed her heart.

  Her team, every one of them, was sprawled on any available surface. Since it made her weepy, she was glad none of them was awake to see her cry.

  They’d come through for her. At the worst possible moment of her life, they’d come through.

  She walked to Lana first, shook her gently by the shoulder.

  “What? Oh, God.” She pushed at her hair. “Must’ve dozed off. How are they?”

  “Everyone’s doing fine. My father and Jay are being released. They want to keep my mother and Suzanne for a few more hours at least. Doug and Roger are still with Suzanne, but they’ll be out in a minute.”

  “How are you?”

  “Grateful. More than I can say. I appreciate everything you did, right down to getting the dry clothes.”

  “No problem. We’re family now. I guess in more ways than one.”

  Callie crouched down. “He’s a really good man, isn’t he? My brother.”

  “Yes, he is. He cares very much about you. You’ve got a family here,” she said, gesturing at the sleeping forms, “that changes on you from time to time. You’ve got another. That changed on you, too.”

  “I didn’t know it was Suzanne I was pulling up.” The horror of it was going to live inside her, for a very long time. “I had to make a decision. Go after the one who’d been in the longest.”

  “She might have died if you hadn’t made that decision. That makes it the right one. How’s the shoulder?”

  Callie worked it gingerly. “Pretty sore. You know how they say it’s just a flesh wound? Whole different perspective on that when it’s your flesh. Take Doug and Roger home, okay? Doug’s worn out, and Roger’s too old to be worried this way. Jay, he’s not going to leave until Suzanne’s released. I think they’ve got a thing going. Again.”

  “That would be a nice circle, wouldn’t it?”

  “I like it. Lana, make them believe everything’s all right now.”

  “Everything is all right now, so that’ll be easy. The police have Dory and Richard. There are no more secrets there.”

  “When it comes out, there’ll be others like me. Others like Suzanne and Jay, like my parents.”

  “Yes. Some will want to dig, discover. Others will want to leave it buried. You did what was right for you, and by doing it, you stopped it from going any further. Let that be enough for you, Callie.”

  “The single person most responsible was never punished.”

  “Can you believe that when you do what you do? Do you really think it all ends with bones in the ground?” Lana looked down at her hand, at the finger where her wedding ring had once been.

  She’d taken it off, had put it—lovingly—away. And when she had, she’d felt Steve watching her. Lovingly.

  “It doesn’t,” she said.

  Callie thought of how often she heard the murmurs of the dead when she worked. “So, my consolation is, if there’s a hell, Marcus Carlyle is frying in it?” She considered a moment. “I think I can live with that.”

  “You go home, too.” Lana patted her arm. “Take your family here and go home.”

  “Yeah. Good idea.”

  It took an hour to clear them out. Everyone had to sneak in to see Rosie despite the fact she was scheduled for release that morning.

  On the drive back, Callie kept her eyes closed. “I’ve got a lot to say to you,” she told Jake. “But my mind’s pretty fuzzy.”

  “Plenty of time.”

  “You came through for me, in a big way. And I knew you would. I wanted you to know that I knew you would. I was standing there, scared down to the bone, and I thought, Jake’s right behind me. So it’s got to be okay.”

  “She fucking shot you.”

  “Okay, you could’ve been about thirty seconds quicker. But I’m not holding that against you. You saved my life, and that’s a fact. I couldn’t get her up alone, and I was going down with her. I needed you, and you were there. I’m never going to forget it.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that.”

  She opened her eyes when she felt the car stop. Blinking, she stared at the field. “What the hell are we doing here? Jesus, this sure isn’t the time for work.”

  “No, but it’s a good spot. Important to remember this is a good spot. Come on with me, Cal.”

  He got out, waited for her to join him. Taking her hand, he walked to the gate.

  “You think I’m going to be jittery on the dig now, nervous around the water.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to put it in its place.” He led her through the gate. “You’ll handle it.”

  “Yes, I will. And you’re right. It’s a good spot. An important spot. I won’t forget that either.”

  “I’ve got some things to say to you, and my mind’s not fuzzy.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want you back, Callie. All the way back.”

  Still facing the pond, she shifted only her eyes to look at him. “Oh yeah?”

  “I want us back, like we were. Only better.” Because he wanted to see more of her face, he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to let you go again. I’m not going to let you let us go again. I heard that shot, saw you go into the water. That could’ve been it.”

  He broke off, turned away. “That could’ve been it,” he repeated. “I can’t wait anymore to settle this between us. I can’t waste any more time.” He turned back, his eyes smoky in the dim light. His face grim. “Maybe I screwed up some.”

  “Maybe?”

  “So did you.”

  Her dimples fluttered. “Maybe.”

  “I need you to love me the way you did before things got away from us.”

  “That’s stupid, Graystone.”