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“No, I’m fixing it. They were mistakes. I have to fix the first one, and then the second one will go away.”
That doesn’t make sense. You’re talking crazy.
He threw back his head and laughed.
“That’s what they said about me at the hospital when I had my nervous breakdown. ‘You’re talking crazy, Hershel.’ That’s what they used to say. I guess I’m showing them now. I’m not crazy. I’m getting even. Thank you for coming back, but I have things to do now, and if you’re not going to help me, then you need to back off. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Silence.
“Louise? I said I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
I hear you, Hershel. I just wish you could hear me.
* * *
Don Benton was in serious pain, but it wasn’t anything that drugs could fix. Mrs. Coffee’s daughter had just left his room after coming to make sure he was okay. Even as she was weeping for the loss of her mother, she had been apologizing for his pain and suffering, because she knew her mother had caused the wreck. She’d actually begged for his forgiveness.
He had reassured her that he would heal, convinced her that horrible accidents happen and expressed his regrets and condolences to her for her family’s loss. And now she was gone and he was left to deal with what he had done to his son. Don knew that he’d treated dogs better, and he also knew that Tate would never forgive him. What he now had to come to terms with was how to live with himself. It had been much simpler when he’d been the one who had been wronged. He had carried the burden of Julia’s betrayal like a shroud, and now the truth of what he’d done would be with him until they buried him in the ground.
He wanted to call Tate, but he had no number to call. What he needed was a go-between, and when he learned the chief was also in the hospital, he found out how to call from one room to another.
* * *
They made Beaudry do physical therapy twice a day and had promised to release him in the morning, which couldn’t be soon enough for him, because all he wanted was to go home. Even when he finally got comfortable and was able to sleep, someone was always coming in to give him meds, check his IV or ask him if he’d had a bowel movement yet. He’d never felt so invaded in his life, so when his phone rang, he answered it gladly.
“Hello.”
“Chief. Don Benton here. Heard about the shoot-out. How are you feeling?”
Beaudry frowned. Don was an all-right guy but not the kind for chitchat, and the last person he would ever have expected to call.
“Oh, you know…sore, ready to go home, but still in lockup. How about you? One of the nurses told me about the accident. Really sorry about that.”
“Thanks for the sympathy. But the accident’s not why I called. I wanted to call my son, but I don’t have his number and wondered if you did.”
Beaudry frowned. A father who didn’t have his own son’s phone number…? He knew they had been at odds for some reason, but it said a lot about their relationship that they were so completely estranged.
“Yes, actually, I do. Give me a sec. I have to put this phone down to reach my cell.”
Don sighed with relief. “No problem. Happy to wait.”
Beaudry scooted himself around until he could reach his cell, pulled up the number then got back on the phone.
“Do you want me to read it out, or do you need to get a pen and paper first?”
“Just read it. I have a perfect memory. I always remember what I see and hear.”
“Must be handy,” Beaudry said.
Don thought about Julia’s false confession and sighed.
“Not always. It seems I have a good memory but no discernment when it comes to the truth.”
Beaudry gave him the number, and Don repeated it back, then thanked him and hung up without prolonging the conversation. He needed to get this over with. He got an outside line and made the call.
* * *
Tate and Cameron were getting ready to go out to the site where the latest killings had taken place when Tate’s cell phone rang. He saw it was from the hospital and hesitated. It could only be two people. If it was Beaudry, he needed to take it. If it was his father, he didn’t want to hear it. But without a way to tell, he was given no choice.
