by Jaime Maddox
Katie shrugged.
“Jeannie says you didn’t know.”
“No. This has been quite a shock.” After a moment of silence, Katie continued. “But in a good way. I went from being an orphan to possibly still having parents and having a twin.”
“So you want to contact them? Our DNA donors?”
Katie chuckled at Nic’s choice of words. “You’ve never tried?”
Nic looked at her sister—beautiful, sweet, articulate, smart—and she knew their parents had the raw potential to be amazing people. What had they done with those gifts, though? What circumstances in life had caused them to make bad choices and screw things up? Or had they been fortunate and done well? Nothing would have been surprised Nic at this point. Finding out her mother was a Nobel Prize winner would be no more surprising than learning their father was in prison. It was a rabbit hole, and she wasn’t even a little bit curious.
“No. I think I’ll leave that up to you. If you give them the thumbs-up, then…maybe.”
Katie nodded. “Well, no matter what happens with that, I’m glad I found you. I want to know everything about you.”
“Everything?”
“Everything. Start with your first memory and end with getting arrested for looking like me.” There was a twinkle in Katie’s eye, excitement shining through all the turmoil.
Nic leaned back and looked out at the lake, seeing her own young self at a different lake as she watched Chloe and Andre splashing in the water. That was just one of the memories that came to mind as she searched the colorful files of her brain. Which was the first? She had so many good ones, great ones, in fact. “I suppose my first memory is at the lake. I was about four, and my dad was teaching me to swim. I’d jump off the dock into his arms, and then he’d hold me while I swam back to shore.”
“That’s a good memory.”
“What’s yours?” Nic asked.
“Praying. My mom and I prayed a lot. My cat was lost, and I remember praying with my mom that he’d come home.”
“Did he?”
Katie shook her head. “No.”
“I’m sorry.”
Katie smiled. “It’s okay. We can’t always get what we want.”
Nic thought about how true that statement was. “Do you still pray?” Nic asked, knowing how far from spiritual her own feelings ran.
Their eyes met, and the excitement Nic saw in Katie’s startled her. “Oh, yes. How else could I have survived?”
Nic wanted to ask more, to understand the kind of unquestioning faith that could pull Katie through so much torment. In time she would. For the moment she followed Katie’s gaze to the lake, where her children were making memories of their own. Her expression revealed a love and contentment that, before recently, Nic had only dreamed of. Katie had certainly managed to make the most of that short straw.
Nic watched them for a moment and felt such joy she thought she might cry. Again. What in the world had become of the tough woman she’d been a week ago? She swallowed, knowing that Chloe and Andre were no longer going to be a part of her life, at least not on an everyday basis. Could she maintain the happiness they’d brought to her life, or would she go back to her lonely existence?
Just then, Rae and Jet emerged from the house, wearing bathing suits and carrying a small cooler and a key on a floating key chain. “We’re going skiing,” Jet announced.
Nic looked at Rae, so handsomely beautiful, so fit and healthy and happy, and thought that perhaps she could.
Chapter Thirty-two
The Powers of Observation
“What a great day,” Nic said as Rae hopped into the front seat beside her. Her sister had been a quite pleasant surprise—feisty and witty and intelligent, even while in obvious pain. The time they’d spent talking was amazing, their connection immediate and strong, and Nic knew she’d found a friend.
The dinner had been super, and Nic was quite pleased to have found another friend—Jet—who could cook. She’d be happy to supply the food and provide the cleanup, as long as someone else did the cooking, and that arrangement seemed to work well for Jet. The steaks were succulent, and the veggies grilled to crispy perfection.
Andre and Chloe continued to delight, and she’d had a great afternoon chasing them off the dock and helping with those first painful efforts to hold their bodies erect while their feet were anchored to water skis.
Another unexpected surprise of the afternoon and evening was the discovery that Jet and Rae got along famously. Nic could imagine going out on double dates and traveling with them, with the kids along, too. Before they even finished the cleanup from dinner, Katie had inquired about Nic and Rae’s next visit, and plans were made. The day, and its ending, were perfect.
“It was a great day,” Rae said. “And now that we don’t have any kids, we can make it a great night, too.”
“Hmm, I like that idea,” Nic said as she ran her hand slowly down Rae’s arm until it rested on her hand and then held it.
“Can you control yourself until we get to your place? Or should we find a room? I saw a vacancy sign at the motel up the road.”
“It’ll be hard, but I think I can wait.”
Her tone was flat and sarcastic, and Rae laughed. “Would you mind if I check my voice mail? I have quite a few of them.”
“Anything important?” Nic knew Rae had the feature that allowed her to see a list of voice mails so she could prioritize her responses, and she knew her dad was always on her mind.
“My friend Art called. He’s with the DEA, too. I should check that one.”
“Be my guest.”
“Wow,” she said as she listened. When she finished, she hung up. “He says they’ve identified the source of the counterfeit narcotics. The owner of Happy and Healthy Pharmacy turned in his son-in-law, and they found a lab and a bunch of pills. Would you mind if I call him back?”
“No, not at all. If it’s not confidential, put it on the Bluetooth so I can hear, too.”
In seconds Rae had her phone connected, and she dialed her friend’s number. After making sure nothing confidential was to be discussed, Rae asked Art for the story. Mr. Green, the founder of the pharmacy, became suspicious because his son-in-law had asked his daughter for a divorce and had turned over all of his assets to her. Green figured no one was that nice—he had to have money hidden somewhere, so he began searching the office. He found a lab with pill-manufacturing equipment in the basement of his office and became suspicious because the place had been completely wiped down. He searched the Dumpster behind the building and found thousands of tablets in the trash. Fortunately, the garbage hadn’t been collected. The police were searching for the son-in-law, Marc Simonson. He was last seen earlier that morning driving a white Lexus SUV.
“Art,” Rae asked. “Is this guy connected to the recent murders? Is he dangerous?”
“Well, if he’s been distributing these oxys on the street—not just at the pharmacy—he might have known the people who were shot. And if he thinks one of them can finger him, he’d have a reason to get violent. There’s enough evidence already to send him to jail for a long time. Add in murder, though—and he’s going to get very desperate to avoid the law. He’s probably got a fortune stashed away somewhere, and if he’s dreaming of retiring to the islands, he might get angry if someone interferes with his plans.”
“Stop the car, Nic,” Rae ordered her.
“What?” both Nic and Art asked.
“A white Lexus SUV was parked in the driveway of the house next to Jet’s.”
*
They’d arrived at the lake in the mid-afternoon and immediately found the house where Katie was staying. Simon considered multiple options to get to her, including renting a boat, but after several passes by the house, he’d determined that the property next door was vacant and he’d use that fact to his advantage. He and Angelica had enjoyed a lovely dinner at a restaurant overlooking the water and afterward still had all but a hundred dollars of the eight million he h
ad on hand.
As darkness descended upon the lake, he pulled the Lexus into the driveway next door and left Angelica to guard the car. It wouldn’t do to have the homeowners calling the police if they turned up unexpectedly. Simon circled the house, grateful no dogs were milling about, and even climbed into a tree house to have a better look. He watched as Katie hugged the women sitting on the back porch and then walked through sliding-glass doors into what had to be a bedroom. The light in the room was briefly illuminated before the room once again went dark. Not long after, two of the three women left, walking directly under him on the sidewalk before driving away in an SUV. The porch light went off, and then an upstairs light went on and off again.
Simon weighed his options. Katie was clearly in that room off the deck, alone, and even though the tall woman—the one who’d been with Katie at the lawyer’s office—was still wandering around the house, what were the odds she’d check on Katie? Katie was recovering from surgery; she needed her rest. He could wait until the house was dark, but that could be hours. Or he could sneak into that room now, while the tall woman was occupied, and get this over with.
Silently, he descended the rungs that had been nailed into the tree, walked across the yard, and climbed the steps to the back porch. The screen door didn’t squeak as he opened it. Neither did the sliding-glass door to Katie’s room.
When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Simon found a lamp and turned the switch. A halo of light spread across one corner of the room; the rest was still in shadow. There, though, on the bed, he saw all he needed to see. Katie was asleep, her eyes closed and hair fanning out across the pillow. He watched her carefully, but she showed no sign that the light had disturbed her.
Darkness would have been better, but he couldn’t do what he needed to without some light. He readied the syringe that had been taped to his chest and then placed one hand over Katie’s mouth and his gun at her temple. Her eyes flew open at the contact and she started to move beside him. Fear filled her eyes as they met his, and he couldn’t help laughing. Then he whispered to her.
“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.”
When she settled, he spoke again. “It’s over, now, Katie. I’m going to inject you with potassium—it’ll be painless. Your heart will stop, and the coroner will say you died of a blood clot from your surgery. I’ll leave your kids alone. But if you fight me—he tapped the gun against her forehead for effect—I’ll kill them, too. Nod if you understand.”
Katie carefully nodded.
“Pull down your shorts,” he ordered her, and when he saw the startled look on her face, he frowned. “Don’t flatter yourself. I need the femoral vein.”
Carefully, as tears flowed down her cheeks, she did as instructed.
*
“Surely there are thousands of white Lexus SUVs,” Nic said, but she turned the car around, doubt and fear causing her voice to crack.
“Art, call the police and send them to this address.” She read Jet’s address from the GPS. “I’m going to call Katie Finan and warn her. Someone’s already tried to kill her twice, and I’m not taking any chances.”
“Let me know what happens. I’ll call the locals for you.”
“Rae, you don’t really think—”
“Nic, I’d never have thought anything about it if I hadn’t talked to Art. But that car wasn’t there when we arrived today, and the house was dark all night. So why is a car in the driveway if no one’s in the house?”
She’d already dialed Jet’s number and was relieved when she answered. “I don’t want to alarm you, but we’re coming back, and I just sent the police over. It may be nothing, but I have a bad feeling. Do you know how to use those guns in the cabinet?”
“I sure do. Would you mind telling me why?” Jet asked as she unlocked the gun cabinet and began loading bullets into the Remington revolver she’d learned to shoot as a teenager. She fought to keep her hands from trembling and nearly dropped several of the bullets. Though she’d fired the weapon hundreds of times, it was always at still targets. Never at anything that might shoot back. And never with so much at stake.
“Wow,” Jet said after Rae relayed what she’d learned from her friend. “It’s probably coincidence, right?”
“Probably, but let’s not take any chances.”
“How far away are you?”
“Two minutes.”
“Maybe I should check on Katie,” she said, suddenly anxious for her company.
“Good idea. Wait in her room with her, so the two of you are together.”
Jet held the phone with her chin, the gun in her right hand while she turned the doorknob with her left. The sight before her caused her to jump back, and the phone hit the floor.
The man on top of Katie flinched, too, causing him to drop the syringe he’d held in his right hand. The gun in his left hand was pointed at Katie’s temple. Jet had never seen his picture before, but she knew this had to be Simon Simms. He seemed smaller than Jet imagined him, and wearing a golf shirt, linen pants, loafers, and glasses, he looked more like a college professor than a drug-dealing killer.
“Drop your gun, lady, or I’m going to put a bullet in Katie’s brain.”
“You’re going to do it anyway, so why should I drop my gun? Then you’ll shoot me, too.”
He began easing off the bed, still holding the gun. “I’m going to back out of here, with Katie, and you’re going to stay where you are,” he said.
“No, Simon, you’re not taking her anywhere,” Jet said, taking a step closer, angry. This man had caused so much harm to Katie already, there was no way she could allow him the opportunity for any more. Jet was a decent shot; maybe she should try taking him down. She knew her first words to him were true—he was here to kill Katie. What did Jet have to lose?
“Come on, Katie. You don’t want me to hurt your kids, do you?” Simon spoke to Katie but his eyes didn’t leave Jets.
He crouched beside the bed, out of her view, leaving only his head and shoulders as a potential target. Jet kept her gun trained on him, even as his was pointed at Katie.
“Jet, back off! I’ll go with him.” Katie looked at her with pleading eyes and began to ease from the bed. It was a slow process.
“C’mon, Katie. Don’t fuck with me. Let’s go.”
“I’m trying,” she cried, and gave herself another push. It took another minute, but as soon as she was upright, Simon pulled her close to him, using her as a shield, and began pulling her backward toward the door.”
“Katie, he’s going to kill you,” Jet said.
“I don’t care! Just take care of Chloe and Andre.”
Simon pulled Katie with him as he took a tentative step back, his eyes trained on Jet as he held his gun fast at Katie’s temple. Jet’s chance was slipping away. Another few steps, and he’d be out the door, and Katie would be dead. She had to act quickly!
Before she had the chance for further debate, the curtain behind Simon moved. Jet couldn’t keep her eyes from darting in that direction, and Simon must have felt something, too, because he jerked his head in perfect time to meet the butt of Rae’s gun.
Jet’s breath caught for a moment as she saw him collapse, pulling Katie down, too, and only when they hit the floor with a thud and groan and no hint of gunfire did she allow herself to breathe again. And then another sound filled the air, a siren heralding the arrival of the lake police, and as she cradled Katie in her arms, she could finally, honestly tell her it was over.
Epilogue
One Year Later
At precisely six a.m., the radio on Rae’s nightstand came on, awakening her. Instead of turning it off, though, she stretched and listened to the news. She liked to know what was happening in the world before she went out to face it.
A moment later, the warmth of Nic’s hand on her abdomen turned her attention from the announcer’s voice, and she rolled over to face her lover. “Good morning,” she said.
Nic slid closer, into Rae’s arms, and sleepily kissed
the flesh at her collarbone, causing Rae to quiver. It had been a year since they met, and Nic’s hands and lips still held the power to elicit an instantaneous response from Rae. More amazing, they managed to have a good relationship, despite their different views on many things and their potentially fatal propensity to express them.
“TGIF,” Nic said.
“Yes, TGIF. TGIFBV.”
Nic pulled Rae closer and thought about the letters. This was one of the many challenges Rae presented to her, something as simple as an acronym that would give her brain fits until she finally solved it. They didn’t agree on everything, and they never would, but they respected each other enough not to hit below the belt when they disagreed and were sensible enough to back off when it was appropriate.
Nic had never thought she’d want to share her life with someone; the sacrifice of her space and time was never easy. Yet with Rae, she didn’t find it a sacrifice at all. She longed to see her at the end of each day, smiled at the sight of her toothbrush beside hers in the bathroom and her shoes beside hers in the closet. This, she’d realized a while back, was love.
While Nic’s conscious mind had been wandering, her subconscious had been processing, and suddenly the answer came to her. “That was easy.”
“What?”
“Thank God it’s Friday before Vacation.”
Rae tickled her. “You’re too smart for me.”
“No, just the right amount of smart, I think. So how’s your day look? Will you be home at a decent hour?” Nic asked.
“Unless something disastrous happens, we’ll be on the road on time.” Rae’s office was as busy as ever. She’d spent months putting together a prosecution for Marc Simonson for illegally manufacturing and distributing controlled substances. They never found any money, and the white Lexus that had alerted her to his presence at the lake disappeared, but they had enough evidence to convict if the case went to trial. If. Simonson had already been convicted of murdering Billy Wallace and two garage attendants, and unless those cases were overthrown on appeal, she didn’t think the drug charges would be attested in court. Why waste taxpayer money to convict a man on death row for another crime?
