by Beth Flynn
She didn’t notice Grizz stiffen, or the glance Carter and Bill exchanged.
“Well,” Carter said softly. “Maybe it is intuition, and you should follow it. People drift apart, Gin. It happens.”
“Yeah, but if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in Tommy’s death and him,” she nodded toward Grizz, “I would’ve pursued her more. You realize—we’re moving, and I’m not leaving anybody except you two and Anthony and Christy a way to contact us. I would be cutting Sarah Jo off for good. I mean, other than Grizz, she’s my oldest friend. I’m not sure I can do that. Especially without knowing what, if anything, came between us.”
She looked at Grizz, saw his jaw tighten. He wouldn’t look at her. Before she could ask him what was wrong, the cell phone in her pocket started ringing.
“Excuse me,” she said while reaching for it. “I always answer in case it’s the school, but in this case,” she squinted at the phone, “it’s a local number I don’t recognize.”
She answered it anyway. They watched as she got a surprised expression on her face.
“Stan?”—She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “Talk about weird timing”—”Yes, Stan, of course, I’ll come.”
She set the phone down and looked at her husband and friends.
“That was the strangest conversation ever. I don’t think Stan has ever called me.”
“Why is he calling you now?” Grizz’s body posture had changed, and his senses were on alert. He wasn’t getting a good feeling.
“Sarah Jo is in the hospital, and he wants me to see her, to talk to her.”
“In the hospital?” Carter blinked. “Has she been in an accident?”
“No.” Ginny stood up. “She hasn’t been in an accident. Apparently, she’s been admitted to a psychiatric hospital.”
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Ginny
2002, Fort Lauderdale
“Thank you for coming,” Stan said as he pulled me into a hug.
Stan was a handsome man, always well-groomed and manicured. But today he looked absolutely horrible. It was obvious he hadn’t bathed or slept in days. I released myself from his embrace and looked into his bloodshot eyes.
“What’s going on?”
He led me into a private waiting room and shut the door behind us. He motioned for me to take a seat, and he took the one across from me. It was obvious Stan had connections and clout, because even though I’d never visited a hospital that specialized in psychiatric care, I knew this wasn’t the norm. This room had tasteful and expensive furnishings that rivaled a multimillion-dollar penthouse on the beach.
“I’ll tell you what I know or at least what I think I know,” he told me, his voice shaky.
I nodded.
“Back when you and Tommy were having problems, I think it was right around the time you moved back home after staying with Carter, Sarah Jo started harping on me about moving away from Fort Lauderdale. And not just away from Fort Lauderdale, but out of the country. I was surprised because I’d had some fantastic offers from outside of the states, and she always turned her nose up at them, insisting she would never leave here.”
I stiffened at the mention of my brief separation from Tommy, but didn’t interrupt him.
“It was so unlike her, Ginny. Fort Lauderdale has always been Sarah Jo’s home, and her insistence felt almost surreal. But, I love her and would do anything for her, so I agreed to start the ball rolling.”
I reached for his hand and held it in my own. It was cold and clammy.
“I thought we were closing in on a decision about where to move when Tommy was shot. Then she told me you couldn’t bear for her to leave...I’m not blaming you, Ginny.” He scrubbed his face with his hand.
“It’s okay, Stan, I know you’re not blaming me for anything. Go on.”
He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and swallowed. “It was just strange, Ginny. Suddenly, she backed off the move so quickly, the move she’d been adamant about, but I understood because she said she wanted to be there for you. But she wasn’t there for you, was she?”
I bit my lip, carefully considering my reply. I didn’t know where this was going.
“I noticed we’d drifted apart too, Stan. She was there for the funeral, but you’re right. I didn’t see much of her before that or afterward. We had an occasional lunch, but it wasn’t the same. It was like we were strangers playing the roles of two people who were supposed to be friends. The conversation was almost scripted. We asked all the right things about our kids and our lives, but it didn’t feel right. I’ve wondered about it myself.”
He took his hand from mine then and leaned back in his chair, running it through his short hair.
“It started to get worse after Christmas.”
“How?” My curiosity and concern rose.
“I’ve thought long and hard on this, Ginny. She’s been here almost two weeks, and because they don’t see any improvement, I’m going out on a limb here. I’m desperate and grasping at straws. Either you’ll be the best thing for her or the worst. I honestly don’t know, but I’m at the end of my rope.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Can I just show you?”
I silently followed Stan down a long corridor. He nodded at a woman at the nurses’ station who stood and followed us to a room. There was a door with a tiny clear window. As the nurse was unlocking it for us, I stood on my tiptoes and could see Jo sitting in a comfortable and plush chair. She was clutching a stuffed animal and staring at something not in my line of vision.
I followed Stan in and heard the nurse quietly leave, closing the door behind her.
“Darling, I brought someone who wants to see you. Sarah Jo, Ginny is here.”
Sarah Jo slowly looked over at Stan and then me. She smiled, then caught herself. Her smile was instantly replaced with something else. Was it fear? No. It wasn’t fear. It almost looked like relief.
She jumped up and ran to me, hugging me so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe.
“You won’t let him hurt me, will you? You’ll protect me, won’t you Ginny? You’re my best friend, and I know you’ll forgive me for everything I’ve done to hurt you. Won’t you? Tell me you’ll protect me from him. Please, please tell me that, Ginny. Please.”
Stan gently unlocked Jo’s grip from around my body as I looked at him while answering her. What was going on? Was Stan abusing her or something?
“Stan would never hurt you, Jo. Stan loves you. I don’t need to protect you from your husband. You’re safe, Sarah Jo.”
I almost gasped at her reply.
“Not Stan. I know Stan would never hurt me. It’s Grizz! Grizz wants to kill me, Ginny! He’s alive, and he’s coming after me for all the bad things I did to you and him and Tommy.”
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Grizz
2002, Fort Lauderdale
He waited with Carter and Bill, hoping Ginny would call or show back up, but she hadn’t. His calls to her went straight to voicemail.
He headed back to his house in Laurel Falls and dug out Moe’s journal. He’d started to get a little antsy when he’d realized he was on edge about Ginny going to see Sarah Jo. If that call from Stan was about what he thought it was, the journal, along with what Carter and Bill had given him, should help shed some light on things.
All he could do now was wait.
He stood at his front window, arms crossed, and stared out. It felt foreign. He was very private and had always kept his front blinds closed. He certainly never concerned himself with what was or wasn’t happening on his street. And there wasn’t much to see now. A few cars drove by, and an elderly couple who’d recently moved in down the street were walking their large poodle. He only knew they’d just moved in because he saw the moving van on his way to work one day. He stiffened as he watched their dog squat in front of his mailbox and take a humungous dump. So that’s who was leaving those piles of shit. He’d recently had to take a fucking scooper with him to che
ck his mail. Well, he wouldn’t be living here for much longer, so he’d let it go and let the next renters deal with it.
He watched as the nice girl next door pulled up in front of her house. Rosa cleaned his house and used to grocery shop for him. He’d decided after the one time he’d shown up at Ginny’s grocery store that he was wrong to call attention to himself when it wasn’t necessary. Besides, Rosa was more than happy to earn a little extra money. He’d leave a list and money for her when she cleaned, and his groceries were delivered by the end of the day. Since he’d been back with Ginny, he’d told Rosa he didn’t need her to do the grocery shopping anymore. Ginny always showed up with a bag of groceries. Cooking was one thing they enjoyed doing together. Well, he knew how to cook, but he didn’t like to. He used it as an excuse to sit at the table and stare at her ass while she cooked. He smiled to himself.
Just then, a car pulled in behind Rosa’s. Grizz watched her body language change as she heard the car and turned to see who’d parked in her driveway. She seemed to stiffen and pasted on what he was certain was a fake smile as a guy got out of the car and sauntered up to her. Grizz knew the type. What was a quiet, studious, hardworking girl like Rosa doing with a total punk asswipe?
His brows furrowed as he studied the scene. The guy pulled her so close their bodies were touching. He watched as he got in her face, whatever he was saying clearly making her uncomfortable. His sneer was meant to intimidate, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was enjoying scaring the girl.
Grizz used to eat guys like this for lunch. It was almost dinner, and his stomach growled. He was hungry. He was frustrated. Where the fuck was Ginny?
He closed the blinds and headed out the front door.
“Justin, no. Please, Justin! You’re squeezing too hard. You’re hurting my arm!” Rosa’s eyes were wide.
“You can’t tell me no. You know that, little bird, don’t you? Nobody tells me no.”
Grizz could hear the whispered threat as he approached the couple. He hadn’t been noticed.
Without missing a beat, he said loudly, “No.”
They both turned at the sound of Grizz’s voice, and Justin let go of Rosa, his eyes round. She stepped back, and Grizz noticed she was trembling.
“This a friend of yours, Rosa?” Grizz asked when he got to them. He casually leaned against Rosa’s car and crossed his arms over his chest.
Justin gave him the once-over, his glance at first hesitant and then replaced with false bravado. He’d decided the big tattooed guy wasn’t much of a threat. Besides, all he had to do was make a phone call, and his homies would be on this fucker like stink on shit.
He sneered at Grizz. “None of your fucking business, hombre.”
He started to puff out his chest and say something else when Grizz pushed off the side of the car and walked right up to him.
“Which one do you want to eat, hombre?” Without waiting for an answer or taking his eyes off the guy, he said, “Go inside, Rosa. It’ll be fine. This piece of shit won’t be bothering you anymore. Tell your parents not to worry. They don’t need to call the police.”
She did as she was told, and Grizz heard her front door open and close.
“Which one do you want to eat?”
“What’re you talking about, dude? The only thing I’m going to be eating is tiny pieces of your ass when my boys show up later.”
“I recognize the ink,” Grizz growled. “I know your boys. I’ll give you one more chance. Your choice. Which one do you want to eat? Is it going to be eyebrow, ear, or nose? If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”
“You are totally fucked in the head, dude.”
“My choice then,” Grizz said.
Before Justin could react, Grizz grabbed him by the throat and ripped the ring out of his nose. He was so stunned, he couldn’t react. He howled in pain as Grizz spun him around and held him in a chokehold, forced him to open his mouth by squeezing his jaw. “You should’ve said ear. It would’ve been less painful.”
He shoved the nose ring down the guy’s throat. “Swallow it.”
Grizz whispered something in Justin’s ear that made his eyes go wide. He let go of him then and shoved him toward his car, telling him, “And that is why you won’t come back here. Am I right?”
Shaking, Justin nodded and fumbled with the car door. He got in and drove away.
Just then, Grizz noticed Ginny pull into his driveway next door. How much had she seen? Shit.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Ginny
2002, Fort Lauderdale
I stood in his living room and just stared at him. I’d purposely let his calls go to voicemail and of course, he hadn’t left a message. Neither one of us spoke, a tactic he’d taught me. Who would be the first to break?
But I didn’t have time for this.
“You go first, Grizz. I have a feeling there’s a lot you want to tell me.”
“Sit down, Kit.” He gestured to his couch.
“I don't really feel like sitting.”
"Okay, then. I’ll start by telling you the punk next door was abusing Rosa. I stopped him.”
I nodded, my concern for Rosa quickly replacing any angst I'd had after seeing Stan and Sarah Jo.
“I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, especially with us being so close to leaving. But I recognized his ink. I was in charge of them in prison. I just had to mention a code word that had clout and meant he would be dealt with. It scared him off. The last thing he’ll do is make trouble. More than likely, he’s packing.”
I didn’t say anything, and looked away, nodding in understanding.
“He was hurting Rosa, Ginny. Scaring her, and hurting her physically. There was a time once when you used to beg me to rescue people like her.”
“You’re right,” I said. There had been too many times to count in our past when I’d used him to intervene on someone’s behalf. I had no right to be upset that he was now doing it on his own, without my prompting. If anything, he was showing me that he could have compassion for someone in need. How he handled the situation didn’t make me happy; the fact that he felt the need to help Rosa warmed my heart. I couldn’t help but smile.
“But, couldn’t you have just talked him out of bothering her?” I asked, already knowing the answer. He lived and would die by a code he learned from the streets and the last fifteen years he spent in prison. His instinct to extinguish anyone who didn’t follow that code was still simmering in him, just below the surface.
His raised eyebrow was his only reply.
Just then, there was a knock at the door, and we both looked at each other. He went to the blinds and peeked out.
“It’s her parents.”
Please, God, don’t let them be here to make trouble. Grizz opened the front door, and I could hear two voices talking rapidly in Spanish. I could make out a few words. Thank you. Grateful. An angel from heaven. I doubt I heard that last one right. Grizz had been called a lot of things, and I’d bet my right arm an angel was never one of them. It sunk in—they weren’t here to cause trouble. They were here to thank him. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Saying goodbye, he kicked the door closed behind him.
“Dinner,” was all he said as he carried plates of food, which had obviously been delivered out of gratitude, into the kitchen. The aroma of skirt steak, black beans and plantains was tantalizing, but eating wasn’t my immediate concern.
“Dinner can wait.” I followed him. “Tell me what you’ve done or have been doing to Sarah Jo. Tell me why she thinks Tommy’s spirit sent your ghost to haunt her?”
He laid the plates on the counter and turned to look at me. He leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms.
“I haven’t done anything to her. I’ve watched her since around Christmas, though. I’ve kept an eye out to make sure she wasn’t doing anything to you. Maybe she thought she saw me once or twice. I can’t say for sure.”
“What?”
I tapped my temple with my right hand and shook my head, trying to grasp what he was telling me. “Why in the world would you think she would do something to me?”
He glanced over at his kitchen table, and I followed his gaze. I didn’t recognize it at first, but when I did, I walked to it and picked it up, held it up to him.
“Is this what I think it is?”
He nodded.
“How did you get it? I watched Tommy throw it away, bag it up, and take it out to the garbage cans. Were you outside our house? Were you watching my home?”
My last comment came out in a high-pitched squeak. But he shook his head, confused.
“I don’t know about that. Likely they were listening then and sent someone to get it. They gave it to me the last time I met them.”
“And what could Moe’s journal possibly have to do with Sarah Jo, Grizz?”
He grabbed it from me and took my hand, walked me back out to the living room and insisted I sit down. I did. He thumbed through some pages as I watched him.
When he came to a certain page, he handed the journal back to me and said one word.
“Read.”
I did. And as I read, I could feel the color draining from my face as I learned about the guilt Moe felt for unwittingly participating in my rape and almost murder. I looked up at Grizz and he immediately sat down next to me, scooting closely so our bodies touched. His warmth was inviting as I relived the horror of that night.
“What does Moe’s guilt, about helping to set that night up, have to do with Jo?” I asked in a small voice.
“Keep reading.”
I looked down at the page and could feel his eyes as they watched me. He knew the second I read the line, the recognition obvious by my expression. He pulled me close then as I let the journal drop to the floor.
As if sensing a shift in the air, Rocky jumped up from his dog bed and padded over to me. I barely noticed him licking my knee or Grizz’s quiet reprimand to go back to his bed.
“I’m not exactly sure what this means. I get it. I mean, it’s obvious that Sarah Jo was the Wendy that did this, but...” I wasn’t talking to Grizz. I was talking to myself and staring at the wall. I glanced over at him. “Tommy read this journal, Grizz. I never did. I left it up to him to tell me if there was something I needed to know. And he never told me this.” My jaw clenched. “If he suspected this, I’m certain he would never have had the heart to tell me Sarah Jo had been behind it all.”
