Secrets Resurfaced

by Dana Mentink

  Chad made to follow him.

  Dory realized her hands were still clammy with sweat from her nail-biting truck maneuver. “I need to wash my hands. Just be a minute.”

  Chad nodded and she walked around the corner to the ladies’ room. She tried to make herself believe it was all over, even though they still had no answers. Blaze was in custody. When he recovered, they would finally have the information they sought. The past few hours had proved that Angela had been right. Blaze’d had no intention of giving up.

  She thought about the boy Angela had described, hurling a baseball hour after hour. Ruthless. But then she considered Oliver, the little boy in Ivy’s school. He built and rebuilt his Popsicle sticks hour after hour, not out of some relentless drive, but because he was a lonely little boy who didn’t know what else to do. Making and remaking those structures was his way to have control over the world, to express feelings he could not put into words.

  Stick upon stick. Ball after ball.

  Had Blaze been that lonely little boy once upon a time? A child who’d turned into something dark and dangerous? The hallway was quiet and deserted, except for a woman with her back to Dory, talking on the phone.

  Angela Robertson, Dory realized.

  “If he lives, we’re going to prison.”

  The words stopped Dory dead in her tracks. If he lives? Prison? She could only be talking about Blaze.

  “It was five years ago, Tom,” she heard Angela snap.

  Tom?

  “We couldn’t have known Mary was going to be on that boat. It wasn’t our fault. Blaze drove us to it. He deserves to die. You’ll have to find a way.”

  A dull hum started up in Dory’s brain as the pieces fell into place. The enormity of her mistake floored her. Blaze was an angry, dangerous man, but he hadn’t been guilty of his mother’s death.

  It was five years ago, Tom.

  Tom Rourke wasn’t blindly protecting Angela... He’d been an active participant.

  “I know you don’t like lying to Chad, but you’ve done what you could for him. Friendship only goes so far,” Angela snapped. “You saved him from your fire, right? He wasn’t even seriously hurt. Neither one of them were.”

  So Tom had set the fire to heap more blame on Blaze? That was why Tom had been there at the perfect moment to save Chad, with a nail conveniently in his pocket. It had all been a colossal setup.

  Dory stepped back, but it was too late. Angela swiveled, saw her and lowered the phone.

  “So now you know,” she said.

  Dory tried to force down a swallow. The corridor was isolated. No one would hear her scream. She would turn and run, but before she did so, she had to get the answer to the question that burned in her.

  “How did you sink the boat?”

  Angela shook her head. She made no move to come closer to Dory or to reach for any kind of a weapon. “Almost the perfect crime, right? Tom spiked Rocky’s thermos. Doctored the sandwich for Blaze. He was intending to be on the boat to help things along, but he was delayed. It worked out anyway when the boat overturned. We couldn’t have planned it better.”

  Dory edged back. “Worked out?” She couldn’t keep the disgust from her voice. “Your sister died.”

  What looked like grief pinched the corners of Angela’s mouth. “A terrible mistake. We had no idea she’d invited herself along. The wrong person drowned. It should have been Blaze. He didn’t get enough of the drug to make him drown. That was the real tragedy.”

  “Why? Why do you hate him so much, Angela?”

  She huffed. “Spoiled brat. He had no right to the Robertson money. My father worked himself to death acquiring that wealth, and Blaze was a no-good, entitled creature from the beginning.

  “I tried to tell Mary. I tried, but she insisted on making excuses for him. He never deserved a dime of the family wealth. Ever. Mary changed after he came. She wouldn’t listen to me. She defended him over and over again. He could do no wrong in her sight.”

  Mary had changed, because her child became her priority instead of her sister. “You were jealous of Blaze, weren’t you?”

  Angela started, eyes narrowing. “Jealous? No, of course not. Mary and I had disagreements over Blaze’s behavior, that’s all. He was so like his father, lazy, selfish. Mary would have been much better off without him.”

  Dory shook her head as she backed another step toward the corridor. “So you thought Blaze was drowned like you’d planned, but when you got word that he was alive...you had to kill him.”

  “I’ve been trying to find him and kill him for five years,” she said grimly.

  Dory pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and thumbed it to life. “So Blaze really is innocent.”

  “He is not innocent. You, above all people, should know that. He almost stoned you to death, remember? Rolled a boulder down on you?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t kill his mother. You and Tom did.”

  Fingers closed around her wrist and the phone was yanked away. Tom shoved her against the wall, his forearm across her throat.

  “Good thing I was on my way here to pick Angela up.” He groaned. “Why couldn’t you have left well enough alone, Dory?”

  Dory could not free herself or get enough of a breath to scream. Her second mistake. Angela had not disconnected the call. He’d heard everything. He knew that she’d found out. And he’d come to clean up the loose ends.

  “You were the one that shot at Blaze at the bridge.” She gasped the words out as he pressed her harder to the wall.

  Tom sucked in a breath but did not reply.

  “All these years. Rocky was your friend. How could you let him go to prison?” Sparks danced in her vision. “And Chad trusts you. They both do.”

  She felt him flinch, but he didn’t let go.

  His hands trembled as he held her prisoner. “I started the fire so you’d think Blaze was the bad guy once and for all. That should have been enough to get you off our backs.”

  She thought about what her father had said. Seems like we can expunge Tom from the list since he just put his life at risk to save Chad.

  But he hadn’t, not really. He’d set the fire, so he’d known all he had to do was go in with the fire extinguisher he’d seen in the hallway, pop the door off its hinges, and he’d be clear of any suspicion.

  “That fire almost killed Chad.” Blood thrummed in her temples.

  “I didn’t know it would be like that. I got him out.” There was a stubborn set to his lips. “I can’t undo what I’ve done.”

  “No,” said Angela, “but we can still salvage the situation.”

  Salvage the situation? Dory started to kick, but Tom turned her around and pressed her face against the wall, cinching her arms behind her.

  “Take her out the back exit,” Angela said. “There’s a side lot that hardly anyone uses. We have to take care of this right now.”

  TWENTY

  Chad gave Dory another minute before he went off in search of her. She’d had a rough ride over some dangerous country the past few weeks and the effects of that were probably going to take a while to catch up with her. Pure exhaustion might explain why she hadn’t yet reappeared. Still, when ten minutes ticked away, he went looking for her with no success. Finally, he enlisted the help of a custodian to check the bathroom.

  He shrugged. “There’s no one in there. Sorry.”

  Now his nerves were buzzing. Where could she have gone? Was there another restroom he’d missed? He was mulling that over when he noticed the hallway exit door was slightly ajar. Alarm bells jingling in his gut, he jogged over and checked. The door led to a parking lot, empty save for one vehicle. Tom’s truck. Odd, since he hadn’t seen Tom anywhere in the hospital. He caught a whiff, the barest trickle of fragrance. Something floral and heavy.

  And familiar. Angela’s perfume.

 
Angela...and Tom. He felt sick.

  He sprinted, phone in hand, filling in his brothers. “I think Angela and Tom may have Dory.”

  There was no sign of their vehicle. Since the parking lot was wet, he was able to make out the barest hint of tire tracks that indicated a vehicle had recently taken a left out of the lot.

  Liam careened up in his truck, sliding over so Chad could drive. The two dogs barked from their crate secured in the bed. He stomped on the gas and peeled out. The frontage road from the hospital was empty. He had only a vague hint since the tracks were rapidly drying. Angela’s house was the opposite direction, so they hadn’t gone there. Tom lived in the bunkhouse, so that option was out. Where were they taking Dory?

  Hands clenching the wheel, he drove the main roads through town, stopping repeatedly to ask if anyone had seen Angela’s BMW. No one had. He fought outright panic.

  Liam answered his phone, the volume set so loud Chad could hear it was Maggie. Mitch must have alerted the family.

  “Got it. Thanks, honey.” Liam clicked off. “She just saw a BMW drive past the Lodge, heading for the docks.”

  The docks. His nerves screamed. Whatever Dory had found out, Angela and Tom were determined she would never divulge it.

  Liam’s jaw was tight. “So it looks like Tom’s in deep.”

  Chad’s mind reeled. How could Tom ever agree to hurting Dory? The man who’d been their friend for decades? The guy who had tried to save Mary Robertson? His blood went cold. Or had he? The notion pierced his gut. He recalled Tom’s stricken expression as he’d dragged Mary from the water. Had he been distraught because of the tragedy...or because he and Angela had cooked up a plan to kill Blaze and it had backfired?

  The road down to the docks was narrow and damp. As safely as he could, he took the turn, but the rear wheels skidded. Liam didn’t comment, but his hand was tight on the armrest. The small parking area was empty save for the crookedly parked BMW. Empty.

  “Where’s he taken her?” Chad scanned the horizon. He knew Tom owned his own boat, but he couldn’t spot it. There were several berths housing a rowboat and two larger vessels. There was no one around anywhere.

  The fear was a live thing inside him, clawing to get out. He heard the noise before he saw anything. “There.” A small boat with an outboard motor chugged clear of the end of the dock. Tom was at the throttle. Angela stood at the bow, the wind whipping her hair free of the scarf. Where was Dory? Had they killed her? Was she lying bleeding on the decking?

  He ignored his brother’s shout, tugged off his boots and sprinted to the end of the dock. Tom was goosing the throttle, urging the boat away from the dock, but it took the motor a few precious moments to get up to speed. Chad had only one way of catching Tom and Angela, and he prayed God would give him the strength to carry it out.

  Heels pounding hard across the wood slats, he sprinted to the end and threw himself as far out as he could. His stomach somersaulted as he plunged down into the water, a yard off the starboard bow.

  Kicking hard, he cleaved the churning waves until he got one hand over the gunwale. The waves cast him loose, but he tried again, struggling to clamp a hand tightly to the boat’s side. With a mighty heave, he hauled himself in. Dory was kneeling on the deck, hands and feet bound with duct tape and a strip across her mouth. He read in her wide eyes everything he needed to fuel him. She was alive, scared, and most of all, she believed that he would save her.

  He launched himself at Tom, knocking him away from the motor. The boat lurched, finally settling into a violent circling that tumbled them from side to side.

  Tom righted himself. His expression was a mixture of anguish and rage. “I didn’t want to hurt you or your father.”

  Chad reeled inside. It was true. He’d been hoping he was wrong somehow, that Tom had not betrayed Chad and his father. “Your words don’t mean anything to me,” he snarled. “You sent my father to prison and you almost killed Dory. You don’t get a pass and you don’t get to feel better. You get prison.”

  “I’m sorry, Chad. I can’t go to prison.” His punch came so quickly, it almost caught Chad unprepared.

  He threw up an arm to deflect it and hooked a left cross that got Tom solidly on the jaw. He went down into the bottom of the boat, dazed. His collapse sent a shock wave through the circling boat, knocking Chad off his feet. Scrambling up, he turned to see Angela with a gun aimed at him, her other hand clutching the side. Dory got up, fear in her eyes.

  “I always travel with a gun in my purse,” Angela said over the revving motor. “You never know when you’ll need it.”

  “You’re not going to get out of this.” Chad tried to hold steady against the rocking deck. The boat continued to zoom in dizzying circles. He had to get between Angela and Dory. “Police are already alerted. There’s no way out.”

  Angela considered. “I’ll sort it out later, after I get out of here.”

  Dory was moving closer to the stern and he realized what she meant to do.

  Distract Angela or it’s all over. “All this killing,” Chad said, “and you didn’t even need the money. You’ve got plenty. Why did you do it?”

  She pursed her lips. “It’s Robertson money. It was never meant to be given to anyone outside the bloodline. Mary should have listened to me. He would have squandered it and then come back for more.”

  Dory had gotten into position. He swallowed hard, tensed and ready. With one downward chop of her taped hands, she disconnected the fuel line and the boat stopped with a dramatic lurch. The gun flew from Angela’s grip into the waves. Chad was flung to his knees. He watched in horror as Dory pitched backward into the ocean.

  “No!” he cried. He fought his way to his feet and dived in headfirst, leaving Angela openmouthed on the deck. In the distance, he heard the sound of sirens. A Coast Guard vessel was chugging through the water.

  There was no time to wait for rescue. He had to find Dory or she’d drown before help arrived. He swam in helpless circles, scanning the foamy water.

  “Dory!” he shouted, but she could not reply, not with her mouth taped. Had she been sucked under the boat? He dived, struggling to see in the agitated waves. A flash caught his attention. The white of her face? Desperately he hauled himself through the water. Despair almost overwhelmed him. Dory, where are you? Lungs burning, he dived under again, searching. There! She was trapped under the water, her jacket caught in the propeller.

  He swam to her, yanked at the zipper. It was hopelessly jammed. He could see panic that mirrored his own flashing in her eyes as she thrashed.

  Her eyes begged him.

  He prayed. Fury and fear worked together in him. He had to save this woman he loved with a new passion deeper, richer, stronger than anything he’d ever imagined. The cinched zipper refused to let go.

  Grabbing hold of the neck of her jacket, he pulled the cloth apart. The ruined jacket floated loose. Yanking her free, he swam to the surface and pulled the tape from her mouth.

  She coughed and sucked in choking breaths.

  “I got you,” he said, looping her bound hands around his neck. He pressed her close. Her body felt so cold next to his. Each and every breath seemed an effort as he trod water for them both.

  The Coast Guard pulled near. Angela stood on the rocking deck of the motorboat, her face blank with defeat. All she’d done, all she’d talked Tom into doing, and it was not even to secure money for herself but to keep it from someone she felt wasn’t worthy.

  He wondered where the Robertson money would go after Angela was sent to prison.

  Didn’t matter, he thought. The only things that did were the woman in his arms and the little girl waiting at home for them both. Treading water, he rested his cheek against Dory’s wet hair and let the rescuers come to them.

  * * *

  Two days later, Dory could not quite believe that she was standing on the Roughwater Ranch
, whole and healthy. The spring afternoon was perfect, mild and golden, and there was a sumptuous Opening Day barbecue in progress for anyone remotely connected to Roughwater Ranch and Charlie’s baseball team. The smell of charcoal and a crock of baked beans enticed her taste buds. In the distance, she saw Zephyr and Boss nosing the grasses along the fence line.

  Uncle Gus helped Jane hang a Let’s Play Ball banner above the sliding doors. Inflatable baseball bats decorated the tables. “I never thought we’d be hosting an Opening Day party for fifteen five-year-olds,” he laughed.

  Mitch laid down a crate holding baseball-themed goody bags. “When does the herd arrive?”

  “They’re a team, not a herd. You get a half hour more of quiet and then the chaos ensues,” Jane said with a grin. “Where is our sporty guy?”

  Mitch pointed to the garden. Charlie looked impossibly cute in his baseball uniform following Ivy and Aunt Ginny around the garden.

  Danny waved to Dory. He sipped an iced tea and pointed out three young girls in matching yellow dresses. “Those are mine. None of them wanted to play baseball, but we never miss a good party.” His smile dimmed and he lowered his voice.

  “Tom has confessed to his part in doctoring Rocky’s thermos, drugging the sandwich and removing Mary’s life jacket. He says everything was his fault. He will not name Angela in anything.”

  “What?” At her outcry, Chad handed Liam the tongs and left the barbecue he was filling with coals for the hot dog roasting. Danny repeated his information when he joined them.

  Chad shook his head. “He’s going to defend her to the end, even though she’s the one who cooked up the whole plan.”

  “We’ve got enough to convict her anyway. DA’s putting everything together and Dory’s dad has offered to assist.”

  Dory nodded. “What about Blaze?”