Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“I don’t hate you, Rebecca. I want you to know that. Sometimes we have to make hard decisions.”

Walter’s response wasn’t what she’d expected.

In their shared silence, she listened to the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. It made her want to go to sleep. All she had to do was close her eyes.

Stay awake!

She nearly fell off her chair at the voice in her ear. A woman’s voice. The same voice she’d heard when Tracey had tried to kill her.

Rebecca’s eyes wandered over Walter’s face. His smile was gone, replaced with a frown. “What’s wrong, Walter?”

“Besides everything?”

She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt suddenly weak. “I know you must be upset because—”

“Upset?” His voice sounded distorted as he reached out, taking her mug and setting it on the table. “Your pathetic husband can’t get a grip on his spending, and you think I’m upset?”

“I meant because of… the accident… the kids.”

“I told Wesley he needed help,” Walter said, as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “He needed to get that damned gambling under control.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew. I knew everything. Do you think I’m an idiot? Besides, who do you think has been bailing him out all this time?”

“Tr… Tracey.” Why was the room spinning?

“That stupid twit? She couldn’t even follow simple instructions. All she had to do was get the drugs into your IV. But no, she had to talk to you, waste time.”

“W-what? What are y-y-you talking about?”

“She came to me, begging for another loan to give to Wesley. But they’d been sponging off me far too long. She couldn’t pay off the last loan. And when I found out about the money you got from your grandfather…” He let out a mocking laugh. “You couldn’t even bail out your own husband?”

“The money’s for the k-kids.”

“So it’s okay for Wesley to keep taking my money?” His voice was dripping with bitterness. “It’s okay to make me look like a fool? Well, no longer.”

“I d-don’t understand.”

“It’s simple. Wesley is an embarrassment. I ordered him to clean up his mess. I gave him precise instructions to get the money from you, pay off his own debts for a change. But he’s too much of a wimp and couldn’t follow directions if someone stamped them on his forehead.”

Walter’s words made no sense. And why was he still wearing his gloves?

“You think Wesley set this all up?” he asked, his lips twisting into an ugly jeer. “You’re as stupid as he is. When Tracey told me about the money you’d inherited, I said I’d do one last thing. Help them get the money. What they did with it was their problem, but there’d be no more loans from me. With one exception. I hired someone I could trust that could get the job done.”

“You?” Rebecca shuddered. “Y-you paid off… that… Delaney g-guy? You hired him… to k-kill me—us?”

“I had no idea the kids were with you. Until Rufus called me from the gas station. I am sorry about that. But there was no other way. With the three of you out of the picture, Wesley could clear his debts and move on—out of my life. That was deal I made with Tracey.”

“Deal?”

“I’d pay Rufus and help them get the money, and they’d leave Edmonton. I couldn’t afford the rumors about Wesley affecting me any longer. Even his blasted affair with Tracey was office fodder. Oh, and Rebecca?” He stared into her bleary eyes. “They’d been having an affair far longer than you think.”

She swallowed hard and fought back tears. “How long?”

“Since you were pregnant with the girl.”

Ella. Sweet Ella.

She recalled how nervous Wesley had been when she’d said she was pregnant again. She’d thought it was because his job situation was so precarious. Now she knew better.

But still… Walter?

“Drink some more, Rebecca. You’ll feel better. It’s special tea.” The mug shifted, splitting into two and then three.

Her breath froze in her chest, and her pulse raced. “‘Special tea’?”

The malevolent look in Water’s eyes told her he’d drugged it.

With a flick of her wrist, she dropped her mug, spilling tea down her legs.

Oh God. He’s going to kill me.

Marcus’s cell phone rang. It was Zur.

“Hey, John. What’s up?”

“Just thought you should know we’re getting nowhere with Kingston. He still claims he’s innocent.”

“Don’t they all?”

“Yeah, except we can’t find any evidence against him.”

“What about the confession from the Whitaker woman?”

“She didn’t specifically name Wesley Kingston. We’ll hold him, but unless we find something concrete…”

“You may have to let him walk.” Shit!

“We’ll have no choice. He has a solid alibi. So while he may have motive, we can’t pin him to the crime scene. Nor can we find any link between Kingston and Rufus Delaney.”

“What’s Delaney have to say, now that Tracey is dead?”

“He still won’t admit she hired him. And we haven’t found a trace of the money.”

“He’s probably got it stashed somewhere.”

“We’re still checking him out. Something tells me we’re missing the connection between Delaney and Kingston.”

Delaney and Kingston…

Marcus stared out the windshield, his eyes resting on the license plate of the vehicle in front of him. JU5T1C3—an odd combination for an Alberta plate.

He narrowed his eyes. JUST… once… three?

Then it came to him. JUSTICE.

His gaze jerked toward Rebecca’s house as the pieces slipped into place.

Walter Kingston, Wesley’s father, was a lawyer. And what did lawyers usually want? Justice.

The man was wealthy, respected and in a position of power.

Marcus redialed John’s number. Three rings and his friend picked up.

“Did you ever check out Walter Kingston?” Marcus asked.

“The lawyer?”

“Yeah. He’s Rebecca’s father-in-law.”

“We interviewed him after Mrs. Kingston was found, but he didn’t know anything about his son or the Whitaker woman’s plans. And he seemed to have a decent relationship with Mrs. Kingston. Even she said so.” Zur cleared his throat. “You think he had something to do with this?”

Marcus groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know. I’m probably grasping at straws here.”

“Hold on. Let me check something.”

Seconds later, Zur came back on the line. “We missed it. It was there all along, but we didn’t dig far enough.”

“What?”

“Back a few years, when Walter Kingston worked criminal law, he represented someone we both know.”

“Let me guess. Rufus Delaney.”

“The one and only.”

“Shit…” Marcus turned off the ignition.

“Listen, Marcus, as soon as I get off the phone and get a warrant, I’m going to have one of our tech guys check out his bank records.”

“You think he’s the one who paid off Delaney?”

“Tracey said someone loaned her the money. We know Wesley Kingston doesn’t have any. Daddy Kingston’s the next best thing. We’re going to send a car to Kingston’s place and pick him up.”

“He’s not there.”

“What? Where the hell is he?”

Marcus climbed out of the car and quietly closed the door. “He went into Rebecca’s house over twenty minutes ago. I’m going in.”

“No, stay where you are. In your vehicle. I’ll have cars be there with backup in less than ten minutes.”

Marcus crossed the street. “He’s in there with her now.”