Gwen shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose he was.”
“His grandfather had been telling me for several years how worried he was about Dean, said he was drinking too much. When I saw him after he came back, he was still fighting his alcoholism, but he was fighting—he wasn’t letting it take over anymore. And that was the main thing. My church had a group to help alcoholics, and I talked him into going with me.”
Her eyebrows arched. “With you? Why were you going?”
He smiled that slow smile that seemed to put her at ease. “Because I was a recovering alcoholic, too. Became one while I was in the army, but I had gotten help and was moving on with my life. I wanted Dean to get it, too. So he finally went with me, and I became his sponsor. I was there with him when he went through his worst times, and we formed a bond like nothing I’ve ever had with another person. We both know what it’s like to hit rock bottom and make the long, slow climb back to a happy life.”
Tears pooled in Gwen’s eyes, and she reached out and grasped his hand. “Thank you for being there for him, Ben. I’m so glad he had someone to hang on to during that time.”
Dean’s friend tilted his head to one side. “It wasn’t just me, you know, who helped him through it.”
“Oh? Who else helped him?”
“You.”
The single word shocked her, and she frowned. “I don’t understand. We were divorced, and I was nowhere around. How did I help him?”
“You were the reason he kept fighting his addiction. He set his mind on overcoming what he’d thought was impossible, because he wanted something much more important in his life. He wanted you. Every time he’d start to slip, he’d look down at his wedding ring, which he’d never taken off, and would find the strength to resist the urge to take a drink. I think you probably did more to help him than I did.”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. “I can’t imagine what that time must have been like for him and for you. Dean didn’t drink when we were first married. He was the most wonderful man I’d ever known, but his job destroyed him. All I could do was love him and try to make the hours he was home good for him.”
Ben exhaled a deep sigh. “Yeah, he’s told me how hard it was working undercover, infiltrating the drug scene in Oxford.”
“He would be gone for days,” Gwen murmured. “Then he’d come home, and he’d be so stressed out that all he wanted to do was drink and forget about what he’d seen and done. I tried to get him to share his feelings with me, but he refused. He said he didn’t want to upset me by telling me about the things he had to do on a daily basis. Then when the Trip King case exploded, Dean went off the deep end. He stayed drunk all the time he was at home, and he started having horrible nightmares. When I woke up one night with his hands around my throat, I thought he was going to choke me to death before I could get away. Thankfully, I was able to wake him up before he did.”
Ben was silent for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, he told me about that. It’s something he can’t put out of his mind. But he’s never told me all the details of what sent him over the edge. You said it was the Trip King case. What happened with that?”
Gwen closed her eyes for a moment and sank down in a chair. “That was a terrible time.” She crossed her arms on the conference table and tried to fight the powerless feeling that engulfed her every time she recalled the case that Dean never could forget.
Ben leaned forward. “What happened?”
She thought for a moment about where she should start, and then she swallowed. “People who live in other parts of the country don’t realize how popular rodeo is in the South. There are colleges with student teams that compete in the National Intercollegiate Rodeo Association and there’s a High School Rodeo Association for younger riders. Small towns all over the area sponsor yearly events for professional competitors. One of the most followed sports is bull riding.”
Ben grinned. “Yeah. I competed as a bronc rider when I was younger.”
“Then you know how seriously the sport is taken. Trip King was a young man who’d been a star bull rider on his college team. He was the son of a single mother, and he went to school on scholarships. Not only was he a gifted rider with movie-star good looks, but he was smart. Graduated with high honors, and he was on his way to a successful life.” Gwen paused for a moment.
“Go on,” Ben said.
“After he graduated, he went on the pro rodeo circuit and began to gain attention from promoters. Soon he had lined up some endorsements, and he was gaining points in competitions that were inching him up the ladder to take over the number one spot in the championship bull-riding standings. Then he came to Oxford for the annual rodeo there, and that’s where it happened.”
“What?”
“Dean wasn’t supposed to be working that night, but he took the shift of a fellow officer who needed to be at the hospital with his sick child. The police got a tip that there were a lot of drugs being sold around the stadium where the rodeo was being held, so Dean and another officer went to check it out. They soon discovered that Trip King was the head drug dealer. When they approached him, he panicked and tried to run. They followed, and he pulled a gun from his truck and shot the officer with Dean—a man Dean had known for years. He died instantly.”
She stopped talking for a moment and thought of that officer and the wife and two children he’d left behind. Her heart ached once again, just as it had then. “Dean did what he was trained to do. He returned fire, and Trip King was killed.” She glanced up at Ben and shook her head. “After that there was nothing I could do to help him. He was so burdened with guilt that he refused to see that he’d had no choice. Even after the official investigation into the case showed that Dean acted in accordance with police standards and he wasn’t held responsible for the shooting, he couldn’t accept it. He kept saying that Trip King was just a kid who’d been influenced by the wrong people. He was on his way to becoming a big-time star with a huge earning potential, and he even had movie agents trying to sign him. The future was his, and Dean felt like he’d taken it away from him.”
Ben pursed his lips and stared off into space for a few moments before speaking. “It’s a hard thing to take someone’s life, even in the line of duty. I can understand what Dean must have gone through. I know that he hasn’t forgotten that case, although he won’t talk to me about it.”
“The night Dean pulled the trigger and shot Trip King, he killed our marriage, too. From that time on he spiraled further and further down into alcoholism. After he almost killed me, I knew it was time to leave. I did the only thing I could. I divorced him.”
“And made him promise to never look for you.”
Gwen swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yes.”
“And he never did.” Ben paused and directed a somber look at her. “He always told me that if God wanted the two of you back together, He’d work it out.”
Gwen rose to her feet, shook her head and walked to the other end of the room. Without turning around, she clenched her fists at her sides as she stared at the wall in front of her. “God had nothing to do with my being here,” she rasped. “It was just a coincidence that I saw his grandfather’s body being dumped in that stream. Now Dean says I have to leave, and I think he’s right. I plan to be gone first thing tomorrow. I hope you find whoever killed his grandfather and tried to kill Emmett and me. But I won’t be here to see it happen. I’m going home, where I belong, and I don’t want to ever hear from Dean again.”
She whirled around, then gasped. Dean had quietly reentered the room and stood next to Ben. A sad expression lined his face as he let his gaze travel over her. All of a sudden she felt as if she would suffocate from the heavy tension that hung in the conference room. She couldn’t speak, but only stare at him.
After a moment he pulled his eyes away and turned to Ben. “I met
the doctor in the hall. Emmett came through his surgery fine and is in recovery. They’re going to move him into the critical care unit for overnight observation, and we can see him for a few minutes in another hour or so.”
The sheriff glanced at his watch. “Then I don’t think I’ll wait. I have some work to do at the office before the next shift change. I have Gwen’s statement about what happened and yours concerning what you saw after you arrived at the creek. I’ll come back in the morning to talk to Emmett. Maybe he’ll be feeling more up to remembering details then.”
“That’s okay,” Dean said. “No need for you to hang around here. So if you’re leaving, would you mind taking Gwen back to the ranch? She needs to get packed so she can go home in the morning.”
“Sure,” Ben said. “I’ll be glad to.”
Gwen frowned and shook her head. “Dean, I’ll stay. I want—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Please just go, Gwen. I’ll be home later, and I’ll try to see you before you leave tomorrow.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was sending her on her way as if she was some unwanted ranch guest he couldn’t wait to be rid of. She lifted her chin and glared at him. “You’ll try to see me in the morning? Very well. If that’s the way you want it.”
He nodded. “That’s the way I want it.”
She straightened her spine and walked toward the door. “Then let’s go, Ben. I have some packing to do.”
She didn’t look back as she walked from the conference room and out the emergency room doors toward the squad car. Neither she nor Ben spoke as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the ranch.
After a few miles, he exhaled and glanced her way. “Gwen, I’m sorry. Dean wasn’t trying to hurt you. He’s trying to protect you. He wants you gone so the killer won’t target you again. I’m sure you’ll hear from him after we catch this guy.”
“I don’t want to hear from him again. I’ve told him ever since I got here that I don’t want to recapture what we once had. The past is dead and gone. I have another life now, and I can’t ever have one with Dean.”
“Can’t? That’s a strange word to use. Do you not want to have a life with Dean, or is there some reason that you can’t have one with him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “There’s no going back.”
She turned her head and stared out the window as they traveled over the winding mountain road to Little Pigeon Ranch. She tried to memorize every inch of the rolling landscape so she would have something on sleepless nights to remind her of how happy she’d once been.
Finally, she leaned her forehead against the window and closed her eyes. Please, God, help me. I know I was wrong not to tell Dean about Maggie. But what do I do now? He deserves to know he has a daughter and to have a relationship with her. But he will hate me for keeping her a secret. Tell me what to do.
The car hit a bump in the road, and her head bounced back and then struck the window again. It was as if the jolt had produced the answer she’d prayed for. The only way she was ever going to gain any peace from the guilt she carried was to face up to the mistake she’d made five years ago.
Before she left, she had to tell Dean he had a daughter, and Gwen had to ask his forgiveness for keeping her from him. Then all she could do was depend on God to give her strength to face the repercussions that would surely follow her confession.
* * *
Dean sat in a chair in the corner of the critical care waiting area and sipped at a cup of coffee that had grown cold since he’d bought it an hour ago. It was after ten o’clock, and so far he’d been allowed one short visit with Emmett. That was enough to assure him that the man who’d been his grandfather’s right hand for years was going to recover from his wound.
The doctor and nurses had told him to go home, that there was nothing else he could do tonight. For some reason, though, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Emmett had no family, and Dean couldn’t stand the thought of him being alone and hurt without someone who cared close by. Maybe if Emmett was better in the morning, Dean could go home and get some sleep.
He glanced around the room and saw that most of the people keeping vigil tonight for their loved ones were beginning to settle down on the chairs and couches scattered throughout the area. Nurses’ aides had distributed pillows and blankets to everyone about thirty minutes ago, and already some soft snores drifted across the room.
He heard movement at the door and glanced up to see Ben walking into the room, a paper bag from a local fast-food restaurant in his hand. He came over to where Dean sat and dropped down in the chair next to him.
“I figured you probably hadn’t eaten anything. So I stopped at your favorite hamburger place and got you something.”
Dean inhaled the burger’s smell and smiled as his stomach growled. “I was getting a little hungry.” He pulled out the sandwich, unwrapped the foil and took a big bite. “Mmm, that’s good,” he said after he’d chewed and swallowed. “I didn’t realize I was starving.”
Ben chuckled and settled back in his chair. “How’s Emmett doing?”
“The doctor says he’ll be fine. They tried to get me to go on home, but I didn’t want to leave him.”
“I’m sure they’ll call you if there’s any change. Go on home and get some rest.”
Dean shook his head, took another bite and washed it down with a swig of coffee. “Can’t do it. I have to make sure he’s okay before I leave.”
“There’s somebody else you need to make sure is okay, too.”
Dean put the rest of the burger back in the sack and heaved a deep sigh. “Are you talking about Gwen?”
“Yeah. I saw how happy you were when she showed up here. Now you’re in a hurry to make her leave. She’s confused.”
“But you understand why I want her gone, don’t you?”
His friend nodded. “Of course I do. You want to protect her from this killer who’s targeted her. Sending her home is a way of doing that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Ben sighed and swiveled in his seat to face Dean. “The problem, buddy, is that she doesn’t understand. You need to explain it to her. Send her back to New York, but tell her you’d like to see her again when this is all over, that you want to work things out between the two of you.”
Dean shook his head. “That wouldn’t do any good. She’s got this guy back East. It sounds like he’s well-off. Has a house with horses out in the Hamptons. He’ll be able to give her a better life than I ever could.”
“Not if the two of you love each other.”
“That’s just it, Ben. She doesn’t love me anymore, and I don’t have anybody but myself to blame. I ruined it for us years ago, and I guess I need to accept the truth once and for all. There’s no going back.”
Ben didn’t say anything as he stretched out his long legs, crossed them at the ankles and slumped in his chair. Then he shrugged. “Well, I guess I can’t make you do what you don’t want to. But what I know is that you can’t bring yourself to take off your wedding ring, even though you were divorced five years ago. And I remember that the only reason you got through all those nights that I sat with you when you were trying to beat your addiction was because you wanted Gwen to know that you could be a different man. Somebody she could love again.”
“I know that, but—”
“And I also know,” Ben continued as if he hadn’t heard him, “that you said God would work it out if the two of you were meant to be together.” He heaved himself up out of his chair and grasped Dean’s shoulder. “God saw you through those rough times, and now He’s given you the chance to try for happiness again. Don’t throw that away because you’re afraid. I don’t know what she’ll say, and neither do you. You’ll never know if you’re too scared to find out. Don’t
let this opportunity slip through your fingers. It may not come again. I’ll check on Emmett in the morning.”
The lawman patted him on the shoulder once more and walked from the room. Dean stared after him until he’d moved out of sight, then bent forward and covered his face with his hands. Everything Ben had said was true. Dean had loved Gwen from the first time he saw her, and that hadn’t changed. Ben was also right that getting her back had been the driving force helping Dean recover sobriety. The thought that she might love him again someday had got him through some of the worst times that a human should have to endure.
During those times he’d poured out his heart to God and begged for the right to have another chance with her. Now she was staying at his ranch, and he was afraid to say the things he’d been planning for years. On the other hand, he’d told her that he knew God had brought her here, and she had dismissed the idea. Maybe he should, too, and just let her go back and pick up her life with someone else.
Dean stood and walked out into the hall. The only sounds were soft voices that drifted from the vending room to his left, and he stopped and glanced in. A man and a woman sat on a couch. They held each other’s hands as if they needed a lifeline, and from the words they were speaking, Dean knew they did. At that moment they were reaching out to the only source that could help them.
“God, please don’t take him away from us,” he heard the man say above the soft sobs of the woman. “He’s our only child. Please let him live.”
Dean closed his eyes for a moment and remembered the nights he’d struggled and begged God to deliver him from his addiction. God had done that. If that could happen, He could heal Dean’s marriage, too. But he had to step out in faith and see where it led him.
The man on the couch ended his prayer and pulled his wife close, then glanced up. Dean bit down on his lip at the sorrow he saw in the man’s eyes. “What’s your son’s name?” Dean asked.
In a Killer’s Sights Page 10
