Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Conversation seemed unusually stilted, and the air felt charged with electricity. It was as though they each wanted to say something but held back out of fear.

“Someone brought you a rose,” he said.

She looked at the vase in the window. It held the red rose Wesley had brought her. “A peace offering, I guess.”

“From your husband?”

“Soon to be ex .”

“I have something to show you,” he said after a long silence.

“Pull up a chair.”

He pulled something from his pocket. “Have you seen this man before?”

Rebecca took the photo. “Is this the man?”

Marcus nodded.

She stared at the photograph, thinking back to the times she’d gone shopping, driven to the school, gone to work. She traced a finger over the man’s face. He had cruelty in his eyes and meanness in very line of his face.

This man tried to kill me and my kids.

“Does he look familiar?” Marcus prodded.

“No. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. What’s his name?”

“Rufus Delaney.”

She shook her head. “Never heard of him.”

Marcus deflated with a soft hiss. “Damn. I was really hoping…”

“Me too.”

She held out the photo. This time, their fingers made contact. They stared at each other, and Rebecca wondered what he was thinking. Had he felt the frisson of electricity in his fingertips like she had?

Marcus moved toward the window and stared at the starry sky. “Rebecca, someone hired Delaney to kill you. Someone who hates you that much has to be someone you know. Or someone you once knew. What about past relationships?”

“You mean boyfriends before I met Wesley?”

“Yeah. You hook up with anyone who was angry with you for some reason?”

“Hook up?” She smiled. “You know, in today’s day that term means more than go out with someone to dinner or a movie.”

“I, uh… well, I meant date.”

She laughed at his obvious discomfort. “I didn’t date much. And the guys I did date were decent ones. I wasn’t a rebel. I didn’t ‘hook up’ with the bad boys.”

“What about casual friendships? Any of them end on unfriendly terms?”

“None that I can think of.”

“You get any crank calls, any hang-ups recently?”

“Detective Zur already asked me that. No. No hang-ups, no strange e-mail or letters, no cars following me—that I noticed. Nothing out of the ordinary. I can’t even remember the last argument I had with anyone, aside from Wesley. Oh wait, I think my sister and I argued over timeouts for her children.”

She knew she sounded rather disdainful, but she was frustrated, dammit.

Marcus let out a groan. “None of this makes any sense.”

“I know. But I’m telling you, unless it’s a telemarketer ticked off because I set the phone on the table and walked away while they rambled on, I haven’t got a clue who would be angry enough with me to try to kill me.”

“I’ll have to remember that table trick.”

“It doesn’t really work. They keep calling back.”

As Marcus sat down again, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Rebecca called out.

Wesley poked his head inside, a smile on his face. “You up for visitors?”

She sighed. “I don’t think we have anything more to say.”

She saw the frown on Marcus’s face. “Marcus, this is my—uh, Wesley. Wesley, Marcus Taylor is the man who pulled us out of the car.”

Wesley opened the door all the way and stepped into the room, one hand outstretched. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Taylor. If you hadn’t been there…” He shook his head and looked at Rebecca. “My wife and kids are alive because of you.”

Rebecca noticed that Marcus gave an abrupt nod, but didn’t offer his hand.

“Becca,” Wesley said, “there’s someone else who’d like to see you.”

Rebecca looked over his shoulder. “Ah, the other woman.”

Tracey Whitaker gave her a timid smile and sniffed. “Rebecca. I hope you don’t mind, but as soon as I heard what happened I asked Walter to drive me here. We knew Wesley would head straight here as soon as he heard.” She inched near the bed. “I was so worried when I heard about the accident. And the kids. I couldn’t believe it when Wesley told me what happened. And now here you are with police guards on your door. Oh my God!” She rambled for a few seconds, then said, “How are the kids?”

Rebecca couldn’t answer. Her mind was too numb from the sparkle that resonated from Tracey’s left hand. “You’re engaged?”

Tracey covered the ring. “I, uh… we… Wesley and I were going to tell you later. At a better time.”

Rebecca swallowed. “There is no better time.”

“I’m sorry,” Tracey said, staring at the floor.

It wasn’t that Rebecca hadn’t seen this coming. She’d anticipated it a while ago. Hadn’t she been the one who asked Wesley if he had wedding plans? And hadn’t he said he’d tell her if there was?

She eyed her future ex-husband. “When’s the happy day?”

“We’ll pick a date as soon as the divorce is finalized,” Wesley said. At least he had the decency to look shamefaced.

“Congratulations. I hope you two will be happy.” She was surprised to discover she meant it.

Marcus stood. “Uh, I should be going, let you all talk.”

He slipped past Wesley and had one hand on the door, when Rebecca called out, “What time will you be here tomorrow to pick me up?”

“Dr. Monroe said you’ll be released at noon. I’ll be here by then.”

She waved. “Bye, Marcus.”

After he was gone, she let out a yawn. “It’s late, Wesley. We can talk another time.”

“My dad wanted to come by and—”

“Not now. Later maybe. I appreciate your concern, but I’m tired.”

Wesley opened his mouth as if to argue, but Tracey tugged on his arm.

“Hope you feel better soon,” Tracey said.

Rebecca’s lips thinned. “Me too.”

“We’ll go see the kids now.” Wesley ushered Tracey into the hall. “Take care, Becca. Oh, we’re staying in Hinton overnight. We’ll come by in the morning.” The door closed on his last words.

Last thing she wanted was to see Wesley again. But Colton and Ella were his children. Of course he was concerned about them.

In the back of her mind there was a small glimmer of doubt.

No. Wesley had nothing to do with this.

But what if she were wrong?

“Mrs. Kingston?”

“Huh?” She looked up. The guard stood in the doorway.

“You okay, Mrs. Kingston?”

“Yeah. But I am tired.”

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

“All I need is sleep.” And answers.

In a room at the Holiday Inn, Marcus had slept his usual two hours. Upon waking, he groaned. His body felt as though it had been through the ringer. Every movement hurt, even tying his shoelaces. But that didn’t stop him from rushing to the hospital to see Rebecca.

Before going to her room, he stopped by the hospital cafeteria for breakfast.

He spotted Zur standing by the cappuccino machine.

“What are you doing here, John?”

“Well, I’m not here for the menu.” Zur dropped a tray with a stale-looking sandwich with mystery meat on a table, then indicated that Marcus should join him. “You visiting Mrs. Kingston again?”

Marcus dispensed a paper cup of vanilla cappuccino. “Just about to head up.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Fine. Except her husband and his mistress showed up last night.”