He backed toward his car, glanced into the back seat, almost certain he’d see someone crouched behind the driver’s seat, or a dead body. Nothing. He slid behind the wheel and locked the doors. Within seconds he was pulling away, breathing shallowly, watching his rear view mirror.
They had been following him, waiting for the right moment to threaten and intimidate. They. He wasn’t even sure who they were.
Gideon turned onto the highway and headed home. The roads were clear ahead and behind him, but his heart was in his throat. Duane was getting out of prison in a week and he was going to murder someone else. And not just anyone. He was going to kill the person who made sure that Gideon’s family got justice, and then he was going to come for Gideon. Again.
***
It hadn’t taken very long to clean up the mess. The broken chair and side table were piled behind the house. There hadn’t been any blood on the pine floors, but there was a lot of fingerprint dust on the surfaces. The police and coroner had tracked in dirt but that was easy to vacuum. In a few hours, it looked pretty much the same as it had before but it didn’t feel like his home anymore. There were very few places he had felt at home, but this old farm house had been one of them.
His rocked slowly in his favorite chair, trying to calm the chatter in his head. The sun streamed through the old leaded windows over the door and he watched the dust motes swirl with the tiny currents of air.
The sound of a car pulled him out of his thoughts. He leaned forward and watched through the screen door as a car drove slowly down the dirt road that led to his house. In minutes, Tom was walking up the steps and letting himself inside.
Tom settled into the couch and let out a sigh. “You okay?”
“Still here.”
“You look tired,” Tom said. “You need to sleep.”
Gideon didn’t answer.
“Have you eaten anything? I can make some breakfast.”
“Not hungry.”
Tom leaned forward and said, “Talk to me. You found a dead guy in your house and you’re acting like everything is normal.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me how you feel,” Tom said without any hint of sarcasm.
“Someone dropped a dead body in my house and now I’ve lost my job. How do you think I feel?”
“They fired you?”
“On leave. The same thing, really.”
“Gideon, I’m so―”
He held up his hand. “Don’t.” He just couldn’t bear the sympathy right then. “I understand why they did. It looks bad. And there’s nothing I can say to change their minds.”
“You seem pretty resigned.”
“I can’t expect them to look any closer than what they saw on the news.”
“Why do I get the impression you know a lot more about this murder than you’re saying.”
“You think I’m involved?”
“Involved covers a lot of territory. You didn’t kill him, but I’d bet you know who did.”
“I don’t.” There was no way he was going to speak his suspicions out loud.
He sat back and watched Gideon for a moment. “Remember when we camped out on that bench in front of Henry’s apartment?”
“Of course,” Gideon said.
“You told me that I understood why you were there because I knew what darkness there was in the world, what kind of evil walks beside us. You don’t need to protect me, Gideon.”
“This is different. The less you know, the better.”
“And how about the police? Are you protecting them, too?” Tom asked.
“If I say anything, it will get back to the people who did this. There’s no way the police can guarantee anyone’s safety. Even twenty five years later.”
“What do you mean? You think this is related to your family’s murder?”
Gideon rubbed his face, surprised for a moment when he didn’t feel his beard. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No. Explain yourself.” Tom was the friendly one, the guy everyone felt comfortable with, the one the old men wanted to take fishing and the young women wanted to bake cookies. But at that moment, Gideon saw a fierceness in him that harkened back to the childhood spent hiding from a drunk, violent father.
Gideon shrugged and told him about the gas station, the convict, the threat. He could hear the lack of emotion in his own voice and part of him worried. The other part knew it was better if he didn’t feel anything at all. He had an unpleasant task ahead.
“You need to tell the police what you know. They’ll find the informant and give them extra protection,” Tom said. “You’ll have to keep your eyes peeled. Maybe move temporarily until they get him back in jail.”
Gideon shook his head. Police could only do so much. Retraining orders were just pieces of paper. Duane would just wait for another chance.
“You have to do something. You can’t just ignore it,” Tom said. Then he seemed to understand and he shot out of his chair. “You’re not― You can’t.”
“I don’t have any choice.”
Tom raked his hands through his hair and paced the room. “That’s not true, Gideon. We’ve been through this. Both of us. And this time I won’t stay quiet.”
“Do what you have to do. I’ll do what I have to do.”
“Stop acting like this isn’t wrong,” Tom shouted.
“Someone has to stop him.”
“But not that way. Not by taking his life. It’s a mortal sin.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” Gideon said.
“And what, you’re just going to say you’re sorry after? It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”
“I knew what I was doing the first time.” Gideon remembered the first time Tom insisted he could ask forgiveness for Mark’s murder. Gideon had laughed in his face.
“You didn’t completely understand the ramifications of your actions. You didn’t have a full grasp of the spiritual stakes. You were fifteen and a victim of a violent crime yourself. Knowing you would face a court of law and knowing you were committing a sin are totally different things.” Tom stopped in front of him, despair etched on his face. “But now you do.”
He’d never really felt like anything but a murderer. He would miss this house, his quiet life, his little creature comforts. Fresh brewed coffee, long walks in the evenings, his favorite chair. But he’d always known, deep down, he couldn’t stay. “I don’t think I can drive out of town without being stopped by the time I get to New Orleans but I bought plane tickets. Return trip so it didn’t raise any suspicions.”
“Tickets. You bought tickets.” Tom closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re not thinking straight, Gideon. You had a huge shock when you found Barney dead in your house. And now this guy shows up and tells you Duane Banner is going to kill someone and come after you. I know you hate it when I talk psychology, but I’m absolutely certain you have PTSD.”
Gideon shot him a look. Of all the times, he really didn’t want to discuss Tom’s ideas about his mental state right now. “Post traumatic stress disorder? I disagree. But even if I did, it wouldn’t keep from seeing what I need to do.”
“You’ve never gone through any therapy or talked about what happened to your family, or what you did, or what happened in prison. You don’t understand it affects your view of the future, of your relationships, of your own worth. In prison, you were always on guard and ready to fight. You could trust your first instincts and you survived, but you can’t trust them right now. Not in the real world.”
Gideon didn’t bother to respond. If he couldn’t trust his instincts, then he wasn’t even sure why they were talking. They were all he had.
“I’ve never forced you out of the bubble you lived in because you seemed like you were doing okay, but this is self-destructive, maybe even suicidal. It’s wrong, Gideon.”
“I’m not afraid of dying. I never have been.”
Tom stropped pacing. “I know th
at. And that wasn’t natural, either. But I let it go because you didn’t seem like you were going to harm yourself.” He stared at the ceiling. “Okay, let’s say that guy is lying. Maybe Banner has changed and only wants to live a good life, and the guy is gunning for him. You’d be playing right into his hands.”
“I can’t take that chance.”
“What about Vince and Sally? What about Austin?”
Austin had been wary, cautious. He wouldn’t be too surprised when he heard what Gideon had done. But Sally would. She’d never stopped loving him and Vince had always believed he could change. “I can’t worry about what they’ll think.”
“So you’re willing to go to prison again?”
“I don’t have anything left to lose. The board suspended me this morning. Everyone already thinks I’m guilty. So, if it means saving this person’s life, then yes. If it means keeping I care about safe, absolutely.”
He could see Tom mentally changing direction but he still wasn’t ready when he said, “Have you asked Henry what she wants?”
Gideon felt a rush of pure anger at Tom, quickly replaced by the same dull ache he’d felt since the fire. “She’s still not speaking to me. She won’t after this. And that’s fine. I wasn’t really meant to live out the rest of my days here. I was doomed a long time ago, maybe from the beginning.”
“That’s a lie,” Tom bellowed. “You decide your fate.”
“It has to be me. I can save someone’s life without anyone else bearing the guilt. My life is already ruined.”
“Ruined when you murdered Mark Daniels or ruined when Henry dumped you?”
Gideon shrugged.
“So, is this about Henry? She’s temporarily unavailable so you might as well give up? Your life is getting complicated and not everything is under your control, so you’ll just go murder someone?”
“It’s not about Henry.”
“I think you’re lying.” Tom was calmer now, as if he’d found the key to convincing Gideon. “I think you let yourself open up to someone for the first time and when it hit a bump, you lost confidence. You just need to give all of this some time. ”
No amount of time would change what had happened and as much as he didn’t want to talk about Henry, he found himself opening his mouth anyway. “She’s one of the strongest, most caring people I’ve ever met. She has a beautiful soul. But I…” His throat closed around the words. He couldn’t even begin to describe the darkness and despair he felt. “You told me I was changing and you were right. I was becoming a better man. But the best part of me was her.”
“Maybe she sees you the same way.”
It was laughable to even consider it. “That doesn’t explain why she won’t speak to me now.”
Tom walked to the window and looked out. “She said some things when you were in the basement.”
“Wait, you have some sort of magical insight into why she’s shutting me out and you never said anything?”
“Listen, it’s just a guess. She was terrified and in shock. I don’t even think she was aware of what she was saying.”
“I don’t understand what I did wrong,” Gideon said. He shouldn’t care. That chapter of his life was closing.
“You acted like a hero.”
“But everybody loves a hero.”
“Not when you’re married to them. Not when you’re the one waiting for them to come home at night. It takes a really brave sort of person to love a hero, Gideon.” Tom faced him, the same look on his face he always had when he was going to tell it straight, and he knew Gideon wouldn’t like it. “I think she’s in love with you. If you’re serious about Henry, you can’t treat your life as disposable anymore. It’s different now. You acted as if your life was yours to throw away. You did when you were fifteen, and you still are.”
Gideon wanted to say that his life wasn’t worth much, anyway, but he realized he didn’t believe that completely. Not anymore. He closed his eyes, trying to get his thoughts straight. He had nothing to offer her. He was an unemployed ex con whose life’s work was now out of his reach. “I’m so confused,” he whispered.
Tom crouched down beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Remember what you believe.”
“I don’t know what I believe. Not now.”
“Do you trust me?”
He trusted Tom with his life. “Yes.”
“Then let me help you. I didn’t last time. I let you take the fall for both of us. I was just as guilty but you were the one who went to prison.”
As long as they’d known each other and as close as they were, Gideon had never really taken Tom’s advice. He’d always made his own decisions, charted his own course. “But I’m right. I know I am.” He sounded less than sure.
“Promise me you won’t do anything about this for a few days.”
Gideon blinked, images flashing through his mind. The man in the gas station, Henry, his parents, Austin, his life in Natchitoches, Barney Sandoz, his baby sister. He was so exhausted he couldn’t tell what was past and what was present, what was true or false.
“Okay,” he said. The tickets were booked for the weekend. He would just sit tight and wait.
Tom slumped against the chair but a moment later, he cocked his head, listening. Then he was at the door, looking out the screen. “Did you know she was coming today?”
“Who?”
“Henry,” Tom said. “She just pulled up in your driveway.”
***
“I’ll talk first, okay?” Henry said to Blue. She tugged her ponytail tight. She felt as if she were girding herself for war.
“Fine by me,” Blue said. He looked nervous.
She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you. Again.”
“Anything for a friend,” he said and flashed her a smile. “Even if it means telling your scary boyfriend that he has to let me defend him.”
“He’s not that scary,” she said. “And we’re not actually…he’s not my… not anymore.” It hurt too much to explain so Henry simply pushed up her glasses and shrugged.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Blue grimaced. “Is it because of the murder? They’ll find out who did this, don’t worry.”
“No, it was before.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“Boy, not lookin’ forward to going inside now. I’m glad Father Tom is here since I’m walking in with Gideon’s ex-girlfriend and a briefcase full of his secrets.”
She opened the door and got out, refusing to let herself imagine Gideon’s reaction. He was just going to have to deal with it. She wasn’t going to let an innocent man go to prison, especially one she loved.
Looking up at the little white farmhouse, she felt her heart squeeze in her chest. She’d never been to his home before. She wished it was under different circumstances, but then reminded herself that he was a very private person. There was a reason she hadn’t ever seen where he lived. Maybe that would have happened in time, but it was off the table now.
She pushed up her glasses and headed for the porch. As much as she wanted to talk about what had happened between them, and as much as she needed to apologize for refusing to answer his phone calls, his legal problems came first.
***
“What are they doing here?” Gideon paced the room, glancing out the door every now and then. He could see Henry and Blue talking in the car. Together. Maybe she’d gone back to him after she and Gideon had… he didn’t even know what they had been or how to describe how it ended.
“Take a deep breath and sit down,” Tom said. “I’m sure they’ll explain when they get out.”
As if on cue, Henry opened her door and walked toward the house, Blue following behind. Gideon took a moment to drink in the sight of her. The ponytail and glasses were back, bright lipstick in place. Her dark blue dress was fitted perfectly to her curves and the matching high heels gave her a professional air. She looked like she was attending a business meeting. This definitely wasn’t a social call.
Seconds later she was at th
e door and he opened it before she could knock, waving her inside. As he and Blue shook hands, he saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes. Blue was afraid of him and Gideon allowed himself a bit of satisfaction at the thought.
Henry perched on the couch and pushed up her glasses. The gesture was so familiar it made his chest ache. She had a folder in her hands and she fiddled with the edge for a moment, as if not knowing where to start. “I heard the board removed you from your position at the archives.”
“I didn’t kill Barney Sandoz,” he said, trying to ignore the fact he’d just been discussing his plans to kill someone else.
“I know.” She wasn’t looking directly at him and he wished she would. “That’s why we’re here.”
“But it looks bad,” Blue said. “You have to admit that.”
Gideon shot him a look. He didn’t know why he had to admit anything. “How can I help you two?”
Henry cleared her throat. “Blue has agreed to represent you. He’s going to go with you to the police and make sure they have everything they need to clear you from the list of suspects. If they make it official, the board will have to reinstate you.”
“I was just there.” Gideon skipped over the representation part. He wasn’t going to get a lawyer until he had to, and he certainly wasn’t going to team up with Blue.
“Listen, the longer you let people believe you’re a suspect, the harder it will be to get your job back,” Blue said.
The kid was deluded if walking into the police station with a lawyer was going to fix anything. “I don’t care what people believe.”
“Clearly,” Blue said.
“But think about the collection” Henry said. “You want to make sure it stays with the archives, that all your hard work isn’t lost over this.”
“Our hard work,” he corrected. “There’s nothing that can be done to fix this situation.”
“Blue will go with you and explain the extenuating circumstances of Mark Daniel’s murder. Revenge isn’t the same thing as a conflict over historical papers.”
Gideon hardly heard the last part of her sentence. “Extenuating circumstances?”
“Yes, about your family and how they died.” She seemed unsure now. “It’s not really common knowledge.”
Along the Cane River: Books 1-5 in the Inspirational Cane River Romance Series Page 60
