Tense silence filled the connection. “I’ll give you that one. There’s something there he—or someone—doesn’t want anyone to know about. It may have something to do with that hospital bed, but it’s unlikely it ends with it.”
“There’s no way he was living there, much less anyone with mobility issues. Why not just destroy whatever evidence or get it out of the house? Why take the whole house down?”
“Maybe there wasn’t any evidence left,” Maverick said. “Maybe he just wanted warning someone might be on to him.”
“Some warning. Either way, it doesn’t make sense. If there was nothing to hide, why does he need a heads up?” Frowning, Gage picked at a crack in the vinyl covering the steering wheel. They were parked a good hour out of Purvis, headed nowhere except away. They’d stopped for cold drinks to wash away the taste of smoke, at which point Gage swapped the license plate on the truck. Riley hadn’t looked convinced a mere plate switch would keep them off yet another most-wanted list, but when he pointed out the rampant supply of beat-up pickups on the Oklahoma highway system—and the coinciding likelihood they’d never been noticed—she relented to stubborn silence.
Which was more than he could say for Maverick.
“We don’t know if there’s anything to hide. A hospital bed is hardly a matter for conviction. My grandma had one in her bedroom for years.”
“Come on, man. First he’s sneaking into Colt’s hospital room after hours. Then he disappears off the planet—not even his neighbors have seen him—and then we find a gurney in his living room. Which goes up in flames shortly after we pay him a visit? He had some other medical-looking equipment, but I had to dodge flames before I could get nosy. But if you want my wasn’t-born-yesterday opinion, he’s hiding something.”
Maverick blew a disgruntled breath over the line. “I probably shouldn’t say anything because the last thing you need is encouragement, but I have preliminary reports from the scene—off the record, of course. It looks like he had a motion detector rigged to fixtures packed with something along the lines of Napalm. I’ve seen a similar setup before. Motion detector sends a spark to the wires, which light the fuel. And once it goes, you’re screwed. Firebombs. It’s like putting out a grease fire. Water just spreads it, and by the time the fire department figures out water isn’t helping, the damage to the area is thorough.”
Maverick had contacts everywhere, but Gage was still impressed. “How did you find out all of that?”
“It’s my business to stay on top of your shit.” Maverick paused and then spit out a sarcastic laugh. “That, and there was a hit on the tags. My friend with DPS was kind enough to give me a heads up. Needless to say, once I knew you were involved I made a few phone calls.”
“Don’t suppose you know anyone who can track down Rigby?”
“You think I’d tell you if I did?”
“That depends. You want to do this the hard way or the easy way? I’m afraid I don’t have your talent for discretion…”
Maverick sighed. “The hospital liaison, Genevieve Steele. She hooked up Tom and Colt. If anyone knows a connection between Rigby and paralysis, she’s the one to ask. Her office is in Tehcotah.” He shared the address, his tone wary.
Gage’s internal celebration at the lead hit a quick snag. “Can she tell me anything?”
“She’s not a doctor. She’s a volunteer coordinator. I don’t know what she’ll tell you, but there’s only one way to find out.” And Maverick sounded none too pleased about it. “By the way?”
Gage smiled. “Don’t kill Rigby. Got it.”
In spite of all she’d seen in the last two days, Riley was genuinely surprised when Gage flashed yet another fake ID at the Sunrise Motel just outside of Tehcotah. He’d tucked his shoulder-length hair under a baseball hat to resemble the photo on the driver’s license, but it was probably for naught, as the kid who gave them a room at the low-rent establishment barely glanced in his direction.
“Checkout by eleven. Channel seventeen porn’s on the house. You want the good stuff, it’s extra.” The desk clerk didn’t bother to look up as he slapped a key on the counter. It was attached to a lime green key chain advertising a local tattoo parlor.
“Thanks man.” Gage palmed the key.
Riley wasn’t sure she’d have touched it at all.
The man pointed down the lone hallway. “Room’s that way.”
“Classy,” Riley muttered as soon as they’d put distance between themselves and the front desk.
“Relax. At least I didn’t pay the hourly rate.” He laughed, clearly finding more amusement in the idea than she did. “We need to shower somewhere, and it’s here or a truck stop. You can’t go just anywhere this filthy and reeking of smoke.”
Riley stared at the threadbare carpet running the length of the hallway and snorted. “Looks to me like ‘just anywhere’ is exactly where we ended up.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone high maintenance on me.” Gage stopped in front of a door featuring chipped paint and the words Room 34. The four hung upside down, but someone had corrected it by drawing in the number right-side-up with a marker. “This is us.” He opened the door and flipped the light switch.
Riley peered into the room. Both the dark brown carpet and faded floral bedspread boasted stains of questionable origin. The wallpaper—an unfortunate blend of orange and avocado green—had probably been there longer than she’d been alive. Yellow light emanated from a dust-covered lamp, highlighting a Bible on the bedside table. “This is…great.”
“Sarcasm?”
“You think?”
“Let’s wash up and run next door to get some decent clothes. No point in showering if we’re going to have to wear the same stuff.” He touched her nose. “You’re cute when you’re filthy, you know.”
Riley groaned inwardly. Was this what her life had come to? Disgusting motels and an escalating crime spree? And now there was going to be a frantic rummaging through racks of miscellany hoping she’d find something—anything—in her size. Worse, she needed underwear, and as far as she knew they didn’t sell that secondhand, not that she’d want it anyway. The attention they’d draw in the store wouldn’t be good for them either, but they had to find clothes. And, she thought as she looked around, to get out of this motel room.
After they’d each taken a turn at the bathroom sink—Riley left it feeling dirtier than when she entered, although she had to concede she smelled better—they left via the rear exit and headed for the thrift store in the next parking lot. Although the outside of the retail establishment left plenty to be desired with its plywood signs, faded paint, and one boarded window, the inside was bright and the cashier friendly. Riley was thrilled to find clothes she’d have bought under less dire circumstances, although she was still without clean underwear.
They grabbed lunch and ate in the truck before going back into the motel room. There, she showered and changed, grateful on second thought for the general filth of the motel room. Gage didn’t say as much, but she’d bet not even he would throw her down and have his way with her on a comforter that might literally be crawling with someone else’s DNA. But he did look at her with a sweetness and intensity she just couldn’t ignore.
So many things were right with them—too many to resist.
It gave her plenty to think about.
“What happens when this is over?” she asked an hour later. They were back in the truck and headed for Tehcotah, the bed in the room they’d rented for less than three hours left untouched. She hoped he’d understand she was asking about the state of their relationship without her having to spell it out. She’d spent too long trying to get him out of her head to say the words aloud. Not yet, anyway.
“I can’t say I haven’t thought of it. Home seems a long way off, though.”
“Yeah, it does.” And it wasn’t a matter of counting miles…it was one of counting b
odies. Her parents, Dawson, Billy—everything she had was under a shroud of loss. Would she ever sit in her living room again and not think of Gage greeting her with a revolver? Of his breath on her skin or the feel of him between her thighs after far too many months without? Or of Dawson or Billy? “I’m not sure home will ever feel like home again.”
Gage reached for her. “I never had a home until yours, and I didn’t even live there. My father was a drunk. My mom checked out a long time before Billy and I were ready to raise ourselves, but she didn’t leave us with a choice. I never felt like anyone cared until…well, you and your parents.” He drew her hand to his lips. A wicked grin accompanied the chivalrous kiss, and the contrast thrilled her. It also lightened the mood considerably, but her thoughts were quick to circle back around. His words had triggered something inside her.
She’d been empty far too long. With a ripple of emotion, she realized what she’d been missing.
Gage was home.
“About earlier?” It was a weak attempt to broach the subject, but it got his attention.
He sent a questioning glance her way before returning his attention to the road. “Which part?”
She studied his profile, finding herself wanting him. Wanting what they had, or what pieces they could get back. “About me sleeping with Dawson.”
His knuckles whitened on the wheel.
“I didn’t, Gage. Not for you.”
He blanched. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“Not for you or me. Or him. I’ve never slept with Dawson.” Or anyone but you.
His grip loosened, some of the color returning to his knuckles.
“But,” she continued. “I did influence—or try to influence—your fate. They didn’t have much of a case against you without any alcohol in your blood, but a couple of guys swore up and down you were drinking that night.”
Gage’s hands clenched, again driving away the color.
His reaction set loose in her something that felt a whole lot like unease. “What?” she asked.
He glanced at her before turning his attention to the road. “What what?”
“You’re tense. Why are you tensing up?”
“Bad memories.”
She snorted. “No offense, but I think I get the claim on this one.”
“Really? You have to live with knowing you were behind the wheel that night? That you took two lives? That you crippled a man you used to call your best friend?” He turned from the windshield for an alarming length of time to stare at her. Before glancing back to the road, he added, “That I hurt you so deeply you couldn’t bear to look at me? That you were content never to see me again?”
The words, however true, stung. She looked away, blinking back tears, taking stock of her hands folded in her lap. “Just wanted you to know,” she said, hoping to fix things a little. “There’s never been anyone else.”
He perked, as if her confession breathed the life back into him. “Really? Never?”
She laughed through her tears. “I’ve never been with anyone but you.”
Her voice was soft and wistful—not at all as she intended. Although it wasn’t the kind of declaration a person could make casually. Not with everything standing between—and behind—them.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said. “It kills me what happened. Although that’s probably not the best choice of words.”
That odd tone had returned to his voice, and with it came the feeling something was wrong. She shook it off. They didn’t have the sort of past a person could revisit without some degree of discomfort. “I know.” The admittance was barely a whisper, but it hung heavily in the air. “It didn’t matter what those so-called witnesses said. I don’t know what they had against you, but I never stopped believing in you. You gave me your word, and that was—is—all I’ve ever needed.”
He smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes.
Something was off with him, but before she had a chance to ask what, a traffic sign caught her eye. “This is our exit.” Her stomach twisted into knots. With any luck, finally they’d have some answers.
Chapter Nine
Genevieve Steele’s office rested on the ground floor of a brick and glass complex near the medical center. Borderline luxurious, it had none of the tile floor and metal file cabinetry Riley expected. Rather, it boasted plush carpet, rich furnishings, and fresh flower arrangements. Cheerful paintings of rolling landscapes bursting with colorful blooms hung on soothing blue walls. A light, sweet scent filled the air. Centered on the glass door in an italic font were the words Spinal Cord Injury Support.
A plump woman with graying hair and a friendly smile greeted them as soon as they walked through the door. “How can I help you?”
Riley spoke first. “We’re looking for Genevieve Steele. Is she available?”
“You’ve found her,” the woman said. “Call me Genny. Genevieve was my grandmother, and I’m not that old yet.” Eyes sparkling, she gestured toward the love seat. “How can I help you folks?”
Gage didn’t bother with small talk. As they sat, he asked, “Do you remember a volunteer by the name of Tom Rigby?”
If possible, Genny’s smile brightened. “Of course! Nice young man. One of the most devoted volunteers we had.”
Riley and Gage exchanged glances. The description was at odds with that of the man they’d been tracking.
“He’s—” Gage began.
Riley dropped her hand to his thigh, stopping him mid-speech. “My brother was paralyzed in an accident, and Tom was such a help to him. His compassion was so genuine, and I don’t know what we would have done without him.”
Genny beamed. “I’m so glad to hear Tom was able to help your family. After what he went through—”
“What was that, ma’am?”
Riley narrowed her eyes and jabbed Gage in the thigh. Genny seemed to be in an open mood, and Riley didn’t want Gage to chase it off with his blunt questions. “We just wondered what happened to Tom,” Riley said. “Was he injured himself?”
“Oh, such a sad story.” Genny settled further into her overstuffed chair. “His cousin was injured in a rock climbing accident. I can’t remember the young man’s name—Jake, was it? Yes, I believe it was. At any rate, Jake didn’t have a relationship with his own parents, so Tom took him in. Amazing such a young man would sacrifice so much, isn’t it? I believe caring for Jake was more than Tom bargained for, though. He had to quit his job to provide round the clock care. Jake received a small stipend, but it was barely enough to cover his prescriptions and out of pocket medical expenses. Last I spoke to Tom, he was having trouble making ends meet.”
Riley’s mind was going a mile a minute. Perhaps there was a connection after all. Tom caring for his cousin explained the hospital bed in Tom’s living room, but not the fire. Or why the bed was empty.
“Did Jake recover?” Gage’s voice was softer this time.
Genny’s face lit. “Yes, in fact he did. Tom came in one day with the news. Said Jake was back on his feet, and he wanted to put the past behind him. It was remarkable news, considering. He resigned from the support program after that.”
“Were they not expecting him to get better?” Gage asked.
Genny frowned. “Oh, no. His injuries were extensive. It was quite a pleasant surprise to see Tom so unburdened. Got a new lease on life, that one.” She laughed. “I suppose they both did.”
Riley leaned forward. “Do you remember when Tom quit?”
“Oh, dear. My mind…I’m not so good with dates. I never forget a face, though. But…oh, yes. I do remember. He worked with a young man for a couple of weeks, but he didn’t finish the arrangement. Not that we decree who spends time with whom, mind you, but Tom made a rather abrupt exit from the program after he met this young man. A quadriplegic, that one. That was—”
“Colt,” Gage said. �
��Was it Colt Beckett?”
Genny sat back, her hand on her chest. “I was going to say about nine months ago. Right after Jake recovered. Do you know Colt?”
“Colt is my brother,” Riley said.
“I’m so sorry, dear. I visited with him a few times. How’s he doing?”
“He’s in a residential facility. He’s not improving. They…they think he’s given up.”
Genny fostered a sad smile. “Is there anything I can do? Would you like for me to arrange another volunteer?”
“I appreciate the offer. We’ll talk to him and see if he’s open to it.” Riley glanced at Gage. “About Tom, you wouldn’t know how we can get in touch with him do you?”
Genny studied them for a moment before saying, “I really can’t give you his contact information, but I’ll be glad to take your name and phone number in case I see him again.”
Gage drew to his feet, tugging Riley to stand beside him. “Just let him know Colt’s family would like to thank him personally, if you will.”
They bade Genny goodbye, thanking her for her help, and let themselves out of the office. “Did you catch that?” Gage asked once the door shut behind them. “Tom quit the volunteer program about the time Colt moved to the rehab facility.”
“What do you think it means?”
“Two things. One, there’s something going on between those two. And two—”
“Let me guess. It’s time to pay Colt a visit.”
He gave a solemn nod. “Past time.”
Back in the truck, Gage put in a call to Maverick, relaying the new information. From what Riley could hear of the conversation, they couldn’t make any more of it than she could.
When Gage ended the call, neither he nor Riley spoke for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Maybe Tom’s situation is unrelated to Colt’s.”
Gage turned to her with his mouth open. Snorting, he shook his head. “Only we know it is related.”
“No, we know Tom’s cousin was paralyzed. We know Tom volunteered with the outreach program until Jake recovered. Not exactly couth just to drop the good deeds because they no longer apply to his current situation, but can you imagine the burden on Tom? He was probably ready to put it behind him.”
Forsaken Page 9
