Tough Enough (Tough Love Book 3)

by Trixie More

“Oh, believe me, I’m mad. However, I figure I’ll be over it soon enough.” Ben gave her a stern glance. That was new. She couldn’t remember letting a guy get away with giving her the stink eye.

  “Why?” She narrowed her eyes right back at him. Just in case he thought she’d gone soft.

  “Because I’m getting married. I don’t think a man should be mad when he proposes.”

  No! She hadn’t really believed herself when she thought he had a ring for Sophia, but this? Was too close to true.

  “You can’t marry her!” Marley tugged on his arm. He was walking very fast. Worry felt like a goat twisting inside her, sharp pains and all wrong, all her own fault.

  “Why not?” Ben glanced down at her, his mouth straight, determined. He didn’t slow down, and she had to trot to keep up. Any other time, she’d lay down dead before she ran after a man. Where was her pride now? Far gone, that’s where.

  “She doesn’t love you!”

  He glanced down at her. Was that a bit of a smile? Why was he looking like that?

  “From the way she’s been acting, I’d say she most definitely does,” he said. “I’m just going to have to look at the bright side and be glad we didn’t wait any longer. It could have been much worse.”

  From the way she was acting?

  “She’s been acting like she’s in love all right! She’s in love with Doug Lloyd. An’ I happen to know very well that he’s in love with her.” There. That stopped him in his tracks.

  “Ah. So that’s who this is about.”

  “Of course. Who else?”

  “I thought we were talking about you.”

  “Me? I love you!” Marley shouted. “Why would we be talking about me?”

  Ben put his hands under her armpits like she was a little girl and heaved her up onto a stoop, so she was taller than him.

  “I’d kneel but this sidewalk...” He shuddered. “Marley Araya?”

  “Yes? What?” she snapped.

  “I’m really mad at you right now.”

  “I know, but I’m very sorry. That’s what I want to tell you.”

  “You’ve created a daughter with me.”

  She sighed. It was true.

  “I love that little girl. I hardly knew why before, but now it’s pretty clear.”

  “Of course, you love her. She’s your daughter.”

  He chuffed a laugh at that, and something in Marley’s very tight, very nervous stomach relaxed the smallest bit.

  “Well, that, and she’s a lot like her mother, whom I happen to love very much.”

  Huh. Well, that was good. Marley hardly knew what to say, but he seemed to take that as his chance.

  “Marley Araya?” he asked again.

  Oooh. Oh! She knew the answer. She just had to wait for the question. She wove her fingers together and pressed her mouth shut. I will not spoil this, she thought.

  Her man laughed again, his jaw relaxed, his handsome eyes warm and focused on her.

  “Will you marry me?”

  She waited a second to see if there was more.

  Ben cleared his throat.

  That must be it.

  She answered him. “Yes!”

  She had to ask him now.

  “But why are there three bags?”

  Ben took a box out of one bag and handed it to her. Marley opened it, and tears sprung to her eyes. It was nothing like she imagined, but it was hers. She had a ring. She was getting married.

  “I love it.”

  Ben took a box out of another bag and opened the box to show her. It was a wide platinum band and a narrow band. A wedding set.

  “And that?” She nodded at the other bag.

  Ben took out another ring box.

  “I still have to ask one more person.”

  “What? Why?” Marley frowned. “Who?” Please let it not be her mother.

  He opened the box, and there was a teeny diamond on a tiny ring.

  “Oh! Karito!” She could hardly hold still. “I can answer for her! Yes, for sure,” she said.

  Ben reached up, still smiling with his eyes, and brushed her hair behind her ear. This was the kiss she’d been waiting for since the day she’d taken the test with the little white stick and understood her life would change.

  “I love you, Ben. You know that, right?”

  His eyes closed, and he brushed his lips, warm, dry, perfect across hers. Marley heard the sound of Ben breathing in, felt him tighten his arm around her.

  “I believe I do,” he said.

  He smelled of mint as he pressed his mouth to hers, moving firmly, pulling her lip between his, asking for entrance. She opened for him, as she always had, her palms pressed to his chest. Beneath her hand, she felt his heart, finally hers.

  Chapter 34

  “Yes,” Sophia said to the man from internal investigations, for the third time. She’d been back four days before they hunted her down. He wants my story to change, she thought. It wasn’t going to. “The video is a dying declaration.”

  “You just happened to have your phone on when you went in?” The man didn’t sound all that convinced.

  “As I’ve said, after what happened in Jersey, I’ve learned how important it is to capture things on video.” She exhaled.

  “Why did you even think something worth capturing would be happening?”

  “I figured out that Tom Kretlow had been the one to hit Doug Lloyd just before the house in New Jersey exploded, When Doug said he was at his place, I got worried.”

  “Why? Hadn’t Tom Kretlow lived below Doug Lloyd for months?”

  “I went over there to tell Doug. I heard the first shot while I was getting off the elevator. My cell phone starts its camera with a shake. It took no time to start the video.”

  “And why did you go over there?”

  “I wanted to tell Doug about Tommy. I wanted to do it face-to-face. Doug had texted me telling me to stay away from Tommy and then, boom, a few hours later he was back from Florida. It seemed like those two things might be connected.”

  “Doug Lloyd, a known criminal, for whom you have vouched, not once, but twice, told you to stay away from Tom Kretlow, and so you went to Mr. Kretlow’s apartment building?”

  “I went there to see Doug,” Sophia said. She really didn’t know if she could stand much more of this.

  “When did you decide that Jacob Park had killed George Connelly?”

  Sophia took a series of deep breaths, and as she did so, she realized that this was something Doug did. If he could survive all that he’d been through, she could sit in a chair and answer some questions.

  “It was a whole chain of things,” she began. She explained the texts, the pictures, and, most importantly, the car.

  “It was the car,” she said.

  “At the house in New Jersey?”

  “Yes, the night I went to that house before it blew up, I saw a car in the driveway. On the back bumper, it had a sticker that looked like a baseball diamond. It had a BD monogram at the top. I remembered it because I didn’t recognize the name of the baseball park.” Sophia frowned. “Then I saw the same symbol on one of the betting slips in Jacob’s desk. When I was looking at the texts that Deb had received...”

  “Where were those texts?”

  She sighed. They’d been over this. “On my phone, okay? I forwarded them to myself before I turned the phone in.” She sat up straighter. “Anyway, the bumper of the car was in one of the photos George Connelly sent his wife. I sent it to the team investigating his death.”

  “The death of George Connelly?”

  “No, the death of Jacob Park. George didn’t get that kind of attention.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “Sam sent the photo back to me, blown up and clarified. The same sticker was on the bumper.”

  “Batavia Downs?”

  “Yeah, the racetrack. It wasn’t a baseball park.”

  “What did you make out of that?”

  “Whoever’s car was at the h
ouse in Jersey, was also at the house where George Connelly was on the last day of his life.”

  “How did you know that was his last day?”

  “Because he texted Deb every day since he disappeared. Only that was the last text. You go figure what you want. That’s what I thought. I thought the car belonged to Jacob Park—and I was right. You can go ask Marco Camisa who killed George Connelly because the house in that picture? Belongs to him.”

  “Let’s go through this again,” he said. “From the beginning.”

  Four days after Sophia returned to work, William picked Doug up. Together, they went to the city. The elevator doors in the courthouse were a dull metal and didn’t show Doug his reflection. He knew what he looked like, though. He was wearing a navy blue Henley tucked into a pair of no-name jeans. On his feet were a pair of kicks from the local superstore. His shirt matched the color of his cane. The only thing expensive on him was his new glasses. The lens adjusted to the light levels, their surface slightly reflective, so his blind eye didn’t appear so odd. William preceded Doug out of the elevator, stepping to the side and holding the door.

  Don’t let me fall on my face, Doug thought. It wouldn’t do to ruin his grand entrance.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” William asked quietly, gentle concern in his eyes.

  Doug looked away and nodded. The sympathy Doug saw there wasn’t making this any easier.

  “Yes, and stop looking at me that way,” Doug said. “You’re going to ruin my reputation.”

  William smiled, and Doug felt the man’s hand on his shoulder, heavy and warm. Funny, after all these years of working together, this last week had been the first time he’d felt connected, like a friend, to the man who’d been by his side almost as long as Tommy.

  Tommy. Doug gave a sad shake of his head. There would be plenty of time to mourn Tommy properly. Eons really, as soon as this was over. He lifted his chin and looked down the hall, moving his head left to right and back again, using his good eye to get the full view.

  “Which room, Will?” he asked.

  “First one on the left, Doug.”

  Bright sunlight spilled from the doorway. Being in there was going to be excruciating. Asking the people that he knew were waiting inside to move to another room? Incomprehensible. So, Doug soldiered on, unable to keep from flinching his right eye away from the glare. The room had four large windows on the far side, a couple of whiteboards, and a conference table in the center big enough for a dozen people. His audience was sitting on the far side of the table. So, his first sentence was going to be to ask them for something. The idea made Doug feel small, but William saved him once again.

  “Good morning, everyone,” William said. “My client...” he hesitated, “Doug, has difficulty seeing in bright light. If it’s not too much trouble, could you move to the other side of the table so he can face away from the windows?”

  “It’s all too much trouble,” Carl Johansen said, but he rose and moved around the table.

  And so it begins, Doug thought. He took the many steps around the table, pain wrenching his hip and spine until he stood across from the members of the group and could see them all. Carl and Helen, of course, supporting their daughter as always. There was still a part of Doug that wanted their approval. He could feel it deep inside, wishing for a different ending. Between them sat Dorothy, her narrow face reminding him a bit of Sophia’s, but the heavy eye makeup and honey-blond hair, as well as the brilliant scarlet jacket, ended the similarity. Doug wished, selfishly, that Sophia was here, calm and calming, but this was his task to do and his alone. Carl was seated to the left, Dorothy next, then Ed. Helen sat next to Ed, but there was an empty chair between them. Doug looked at Helen. In her conservative clothing, sitting straight, her face open, she was the closest thing to a friend he had in this room other than William. Doug pressed his lips together and turned back to face Ed, because of all of them, he was the one Doug had come to speak to.

  Walker was leaning back in his chair, one leg spread wide in front of Dorothy, arms folded over his chest. His face was impassive. Doug wondered if the man even realized he was positioned so he could stand up in front of his wife, blocking her from Doug. That devotion finally made sense to Doug. If things had been different, he could have been the man seated beside Sophia.

  Well, time to move on.

  “I appreciate each of you coming here today,” he began.

  “Cut the crap, Lloyd. You have us hostage here,” Carl spat. Helen coughed gently, presumably at the word hostage, Doug guessed. “I should have my lawyer with us.”

  “Doug has agreed to settle with you today, on the condition that all of you remain here and listen to him for five minutes,” William said, his voice firm. “Given how much you have to gain, that’s not a large request.”

  “My daughter shouldn’t have to be in the room with that monster—ever. This is a disgrace!” Carl’s face was flushed. He appeared about to burst from his chair.

  “Carl,” Helen said. “The more you talk, the longer we’ll be here.”

  Carl subsided and set his face in a stubborn scowl.

  “Thank you,” said Doug. “Will, can you start the recorder?”

  William gave Doug a sad look, but he removed a video camera and tripod from his briefcase and positioned it at the end of the table, tested it, and in a few minutes, returned to Doug’s side. A small red light glowed on the camera and Doug’s insides clenched. He was really going to do this. Sweat trickled down his back and his armpits dampened. The thought of going back inside, to living in the soulless routine of prison, to being beaten and spending his days in monotony and fear scared him. He cleared his throat and gave himself the luxury of counting a breath. In, out—one. He could endure. This was the path.

  “I’m going to speak to you in the hypothetical, until I get my five minutes, and then, I’ll give you everything you want. Everything you’re due.”

  Doug was looking directly at Ed.

  “Hypothetically, let’s say it was me on the pool boy video,” Doug said, the words coming from him like dust. Walker rocked back in his chair, shock on his face. Doug pressed on. He had five minutes. The red light glowed and the sound of the second hand on the clock on the wall was as loud as the clang of a metal door. “Say it was me who...” The word rape would not come out; he stood there in horror. He had to be able to speak. “Say it was me who, did that, to you.”

  “Raped him.” Dorothy said it. Of course, she did.

  Doug cleared his throat. “Say it was me who...” he looked away from them and composed himself, “who raped you, Ed. There are no reasons that could ever excuse it. Nothing I could ever say to explain it. If it was me, then it was...” His mouth turned down in disgust as he hesitated.

  “It was the most vile, disgusting, unforgivable act and I’m very, very sorry. You did nothing to deserve it or cause it. There is absolutely no excuse for what I did to you. I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just want to tell you that I would do anything to undo the events of that day, but I can’t.”

  Now all four of them were staring at him. Walker dropped his arms and sat forward. Doug wished he could see him clearly.

  “The act on that video destroyed us both, but only one of us deserved to be punished.”

  The blinding sun was warm on his back, his hip growled at him, biting at him and making him wince. His time was almost up.

  Doug shifted to face Carl, though it was getting harder to really see. His eyes were getting tired.

  “I’ve divested all my holdings. Last month I gifted the properties in Florida to my sisters and my mother, but I made no provision for their future care. They will have to figure out how to maintain those properties. I would ask that they be allowed to keep them. Any holdings not part of the Colton Gerrimon case, belonging to my business partner, T...Mr. Kretlow have been returned to his estate and will go to his parents. As you know, he is recently deceased.” Doug paused and waited for the sadness to pass through hi
m.

  “I’ve retained any clothing that had no monetary value, my computer, some personal items, and ninety thousand dollars,” he said. “The balance of all my holdings, including whatever is returned to me when the Gerrimon case is resolved, I’m willing to give to you in settlement for the civil suit.”

  It would be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy seeing Carl’s aggravated scowl turn to surprise.

  Just thirty seconds left. Doug directed his last words to Dorothy.

  “Dot, I regret deeply that I caused you injury and frightened you. You will never know how grateful I am that I was caught so quickly. I’m sorry. I can’t defend myself, but I will say that someone I cared about had just betrayed me and I was afraid of losing everything I had left if you discovered my secret. I was heartbroken and afraid. It’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.”

  He glanced at the clock. “It’s been five minutes. I appreciate you being here and letting me speak, more than you know. This crime, which I did commit has been a cancer inside me. I confess to everything I’ve said, it’s all on this video and the video belongs to Edward Walker. I think it’s fitting.” He looked around. “Do you have any questions?”

  The room was silent. Inside himself, a change was happening. He felt—lighter. He was going back to prison, probably for the rest of his life, but right now, with the sun on his back and the words spoken, and the decision made and the actions taken, right now, he felt a relief so profound it almost floored him. He put a hand on the back of the chair in front of him, conscious of the red light and the video. If Sophia ever saw this, he wanted to appear strong and confident for her. He didn’t want her burdened with any concern for him. His actions today were as much a gift to her as to himself.

  Helen was the first to speak.

  “Doug,” she said softly, compassion on her face, her hand fingering the gold cross around her neck, “would you like to tell us what happened?”

  “Nobody needs to hear that shit,” Carl said to his wife.

  Walker held up his hand. “No. No Carl, you’re wrong. I need to hear it. Tell me why, Lloyd. Why?”

  Doug bowed his head. He wanted to sit, very badly, but he felt he should stand, perform this one last penance.