The Darkness We Hide

by Debra Webb

  “No one could help her. By then, Julian was untouchable. He had resources Norah couldn’t possibly reach beyond. You’ll see. He has protectors, too. A few months later, Julian showed up and told her to make a choice. Either she went with him or he would kill you and Edward.”

  Rowan’s hand went to her throat. “Are you telling me this is why she killed herself?”

  “The one thing Julian wanted more than anything in this world was her. She was convinced that if she took herself out of the equation that he would stay away.”

  “Except he didn’t.”

  “I can’t say for sure what happened the day she died. I can only tell you her thoughts leading up to that day.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. I know what happened. I found her.” Bitterness lashed through Rowan no matter that she understood how her mother could have come to that place.

  “We watched after you as she asked. All seemed well until you grew up. You turned into her mirror image and I think, when he saw you, he couldn’t resist. He thought he could re-create Norah.”

  “But then I let him down when he discovered I loved my father more than him.”

  Johns held her gaze. “I will try and help you, Rowan. But he still has a great many resources. It was imperative that I came to you and told you the real story. You see, I’m the only one left. If I don’t survive...” He hesitated a moment. “I needed to ensure you knew the whole story. Norah never wanted you to know the ugly truth, but in that she was wrong.”

  Rowan steeled herself against the emotions ravaging her inside. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “I have to go now but I won’t be far away.”

  Rowan watched as he crossed the room, unlocked the door and disappeared. She turned back to the table where he’d lain. He was the last of the protectors who had rallied around her mother. She turned back to the door. And she had just allowed him to walk away.

  But at least now she had the whole story.

  It wasn’t her father, it was her mother who had killed Alisha Addington. She’d killed her own parents.

  But she’d had no choice. She had done what she had to do.

  Suddenly Rowan knew exactly what she had to do.

  She had to end Julian’s existence. As long as he was breathing, it would never be over.

  Anger tightened in her chest. She owed it to herself. She owed it to her mother.

  * * *

  Billy listened as Lincoln relayed the rest of the briefing from Pryor and the task force. It was no surprise to Billy that they still had nothing. The task force was no closer to finding Addington than they had been a year ago. Dressler was still in the wind. The only real update had been that Laura Brewer was now in stable condition. She was awake and talking.

  During her interview she had stated that a man matching Addington’s description, along with a second, younger, dark-haired man, had entered the inn and gone upstairs, presumably to his ex-wife’s room. A short while later the driver, Garrett, had gone up to the room. Then, perhaps twenty minutes later, Barton had arrived. Brewer thought nothing of this. She had noted these comings and goings before, except for the man matching Addington’s description and his friend. She had not seen either of them before. Shortly after Barton’s appearance, Brewer had needed to go to the restroom. As she was washing her hands, the door burst open and the dark-haired man shot her. Her only other remark was that he wore dark glasses, like sunglasses, and his hair didn’t look real. It had looked like a wig.

  Billy was surprised that Addington had actually taken the risk and accompanied the minion who committed these murders. He supposed the man had wanted to look his ex-wife in the eye as she and her friends were murdered. Knowing Addington, he ensured the others were killed first and kept her until last so she could watch her faithful friends make the ultimate sacrifice.

  Not for the first time Billy considered how badly he wanted to be the one who put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes.

  A rap on the open door drew Billy from his troubling thoughts. Rowan stood there watching him. He smiled. “Hey. You ready for lunch?”

  She shook her head as she walked in and collapsed into one of the chairs on the other side of her desk. “Not hungry.”

  “You finished with your new intake already?”

  Rowan drew in a deep breath. “He wasn’t dead.”

  “What?” Billy was certain he must have misunderstood her.

  “Yeah. He was faking. He wasn’t from the nursing home. He was the last of Norah’s protectors.”

  Billy shot to his feet. “Where the hell is he?”

  Rowan held up a hand. “Gone.”

  Billy came around the desk and sat down beside her. “You’re telling me that this guy was delivered and got into a room alone with you while I was right here without hearing or knowing a thing?”

  She nodded. “You couldn’t have known. Even if I had screamed I doubt you would have heard me.”

  “Why did he go to all that trouble?”

  “Since he’s the last one, he wanted to be sure I had the whole story. In case he doesn’t survive.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Billy gave himself a mental shake, tried to find emotional purchase in all this. “What did he tell you?”

  As Rowan recapped the story this Robert Johns had told her, Billy felt himself slumping into the chair. The whole thing was incredible, unbelievable. He had known Norah was a strong woman. He’d also known how much she had loved her daughters.

  When Rowan had fallen silent, she stared at him for a long moment. “We could solve several unsolved murders with this information. But it hurts me to consider sharing this with the world.”

  Billy took her hands in his. “Ro, this man’s story—however compelling and logical—is nothing more than hearsay. It’s not the kind of evidence we can use to close unsolved cases even if we wanted to. Its value is only in making the people left behind feel better or worse, whatever the case might be.”

  “I feel better,” Rowan said. “At first it was shocking to comprehend that my mother had killed at least three people. But then I realized she did the only thing she could and I’m okay with that.”

  “I’m going to play shrink here,” he offered. “When this all sinks in, you may not feel as calm and accepting as you do now.”

  She smiled in spite of all that had just occurred. “You’re right, and if that happens, I’ll suffer through and find my footing again. With your help, Dr. Brannigan.”

  “Ro, I know you asked me to take twenty-four hours, but I don’t need a cooling-off period. I know what I feel and what I want.”

  Sadness filled her eyes and that was not at all what he hoped to see. “We don’t know how this is going to turn out, Billy. The things Johns told me only reinforce the idea that we won’t be okay to move on with our lives until Julian is out of the picture. Now I know how my mother felt. It’s terrifying.”

  “So you’re just going to let him keep controlling your life? Our lives?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. I promised you an answer and I’m going to give you one. I just need a little more time.”

  “You’re killing me here,” he said, his thumbs rubbing her soft palms. “I want us to move on. To live our lives rather than living around him and his actions.”

  She slipped her hands out of his and cupped his face. “You drive a hard bargain, Billy Brannigan.”

  His heart bounced. “Does that mean—”

  His cell phone rattled on top of her desk. They both looked at it and then back at each other.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  Rowan held up her hands. “I’m staying right here.”

  He leaned across the desk and grabbed his phone. “Brannigan.”

  It was his mother. She was crying; her voice shook so hard he couldn’t understand the words she was saying.

>   “Slow down, Mom. What’s happened?”

  “It’s your father. They think it’s a heart attack. They’re loading him into the ambulance now. We’re going to the hospital.”

  His father. Heart attack. Billy’s world turned upside down. “Stay calm. We’re on our way.”

  The call ended and he turned to Rowan. “We have to get to the hospital. Dad had a heart attack.”

  Rowan snatched up her keys from her desk and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go!”

  Nineteen

  Billy’s father was in stable condition. Blood tests and the EKG confirmed a heart attack. The doctors were running more tests, monitoring his heart and determining the best next step. Rowan was grateful he had been stabilized for the moment. A heart attack was always terrifying.

  Dottie was understandably distraught. Billy had gone back to see his father while Rowan remained in the ICU waiting room with his mother. Only one visitor at a time for now. It was necessary to limit any potential emotional triggers.

  “I knew this was coming.” Dottie shook her head, a clump of Kleenex clasped in her hand. “I kept telling him he needed to get a physical. He hasn’t had one in five years. Men, I swear they won’t listen to reason.”

  “His health appears to be good,” Rowan said, in hopes of reassuring the other woman. “He’s very active. You said he’s never had any blood pressure problems or high cholesterol results. These are factors in his favor.”

  “But things can change in five years.”

  This was true. Rowan took Dottie’s hand in hers and warmed it. The poor woman’s hands were freezing. “For now, we’re going to believe the best. We have every reason to expect a good result.”

  Dottie smiled, the expression faint. “When Billy walked through that door I thought of when he was born. His father was so excited to have a son.” Her smile widened, reaching her eyes and chasing away some of the worry. “He was perfect.”

  Rowan felt her own lips stretch into a smile. Billy was still pretty damned perfect.

  “By the time he could walk he was wearing cowboy boots and a hat just like his daddy.” Dottie laughed softly. “When he decided to go into law enforcement we were scared to death.”

  “I can imagine.” Rowan couldn’t imagine having a child and watching her or him step into the line of fire on a daily basis.

  “But he was so certain that was what he wanted to do. His daddy eventually came to terms with the decision so I had to as well.”

  “It’s difficult to watch them grow up,” Rowan noted. “They depend on you and you protect them and suddenly they don’t want your help or your support. I’ve listened to more than one mother speak of how difficult it is to accept that transition.”

  “We’re so proud of him.” Dottie turned to Rowan then. “You and Billy don’t need to waste time. Life is far too short. Things happen.” She stared at the door that blocked the view of the corridor that led to the ICU. “Wyatt and I have been together for forty-four years. I can’t imagine my life without him.”

  Rowan put her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. “We’re going to focus on the positive. He will get through this. He’s strong. A Brannigan won’t be taken down so easily.”

  “You’re right.” Dottie dabbed at her eyes with the wad of Kleenex. “Wyatt is strong. He won’t leave me as long as he has any say in the matter.”

  “I’m certain he won’t,” Rowan agreed.

  Dottie searched Rowan’s face a moment. “Billy loves you so much. Truthfully I think he always has. I think that’s why he never allowed himself to get serious about anyone else.” She laughed softly. “When he was about eleven I think he was in love with your mother.” She shook her head. “He thought Norah DuPont was so pretty. His words,” she pointed out. “He was fascinated by her.”

  “She was special,” Rowan said, believing it for the first time in her adult life. “I think all the boys thought she was pretty.”

  “She was,” Dottie said. “A bit unique in some ways. But something about her drew people. There was some sort of light inside her that no one could resist.”

  Rowan watched the animated features of the other woman’s face as she spoke. She hadn’t realized Billy’s mother noticed so much about Norah. Unique was a kind way of saying odd or strange.

  “You’re like her that way.” Dottie met her gaze. “Beautiful and filled with something extra that draws people to you.”

  Rowan shook her head. “I draw more trouble than I do anything else.”

  “They need you somehow,” Dottie said, her expression turning serious. “You’re light, like your mother was, and that light calls to their darkness. To the darkness in all of us.”

  Dottie spoke so adamantly the sudden spilling of feelings surprised Rowan. Her words had goose bumps rising on her flesh. Perhaps it was her fear for her husband’s life making her so giddy and talkative. “Did you ever spend time with her? My mother, I mean?”

  Dottie inclined her head and seemed to consider the question. “She came by my house once or twice. She brought tea and seemed to want to chat. I got the impression she wanted to know what I thought about how you were doing. This was after your sister died and I think she was worried about you. She seemed to need reassuring. I told her I thought you would be okay in time. Time heals all things, you know. She was worried about you being alone and I told her she never had to worry about that. Billy and I were always going to be there for you. Wyatt, too.”

  “And you were,” Rowan said, remembering all the times Dottie had played mother to her after Norah was gone. “You took me for my first manicure. Everything I would have needed a mother for, you stepped right in and gave my dad a hand.”

  Dottie hugged her. “It was the least I could do after what you’d been through. I knew your mother would have wanted me to help.”

  That Dottie looked away so quickly after saying the words gave Rowan pause. “She wanted you to look after me.”

  Dottie picked at nonexistent lint on her dark trousers. “Of course. What mother wouldn’t?”

  It was more than that. “She asked you to.”

  Dottie’s gaze settled on Rowan’s. “She said something like, if anything ever happened to her would I help Edward look after you. I said of course I would. All mothers go through that sort of thing after losing someone close to them. It’s natural. I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “But this was more.” A knowing congealed in Rowan’s stomach. “She wanted to ensure you would be there because she had already made up her mind to go.”

  Dottie pressed her hand to her mouth. A fresh wave of tears brimmed in her eyes. “The idea tortured me for years. I should have realized.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t. I thought she was speaking about what-ifs. She’d lost Raven. We all go through a sort of life inventory after losing someone we care about.”

  Rowan hugged her again. “You couldn’t have known.”

  Dottie dabbed at her eyes. “It was hard, after what happened. I felt as if I should have done something more.”

  “You did exactly what she wanted. You helped me so much, Dottie. I’m not sure if I ever properly thanked you. I think my father would have been totally lost without your help.”

  “I worried I wasn’t doing enough.” She sighed. “Wyatt was a big help in my getting past the guilt.”

  “I’m sorry she made you feel guilty. I’m sure that wasn’t her intent.” For the first time, Rowan was absolutely certain of her mother’s motives. She only wanted to protect Rowan and her father. She had taken steps to try to cover all the bases before she did what she believed she had to do.

  Dottie took a big breath and nodded. “Hearing you say that means a lot. We all love you, Ro. We feel like you’re part of the family. We couldn’t be happier that Billy and you are together.”

  Billy had told Rowan repeatedly how much his parents adored her. D
eep down she had known. His folks were always good to her, had been her whole life.

  “Remember what I said about not wasting time,” Dottie urged. “You and Billy belong together. Wyatt and I adore watching the two of you. Honestly, you’re like a daughter to us. I’m hoping you’ll want me to help with picking out a wedding dress when the time comes.”

  Rowan wondered if Billy had told his mother about the ring and his plans to propose. “When the time comes,” Rowan agreed, “I would love your help.”

  “It’s coming,” Dottie assured her. “Call it mother’s intuition. There’s going to be a wedding. The sooner, the better. I’m ready for grandbabies.”

  Children. Rowan was forty. The prospect of having kids was something they needed to approach with caution.

  But at this point, she was definitely not opposed.

  Another first.

  * * *

  His father was resting now. The sedative had finally kicked in. Billy relaxed marginally. The glass walls of the intensive care cubicle felt like they were closing in. The beep of the monitors, the drip-drip of the IV. The staff rushing about beyond the glass. It was all a stark reminder that his father could have died...still could.

  He was stable now, Billy reminded himself. Sleeping. He was incredibly grateful for this reprieve. Things had been touch and go there for a while.

  He sat on the chair next to his father’s bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. He’d prayed about a dozen times in the past hour. He was glad his mother had agreed to let him sit with his father for a while. She needed to try to relax, pull herself together a little better. She needed to be strong for herself and for her husband. Billy knew his father well. He took his emotional cues from his wife. Always had. They were that close.

  Billy felt his and Rowan’s connection was like that.

  He was so grateful she was here. Rowan would help take his mother’s mind off things.

  God Almighty, he wished she would just say yes to marrying him. He knew she wanted to. Addington was the reason she hesitated, the only reason. Outrage swept through him, making his teeth clench. The bastard had been controlling her whole life for more than a year. She couldn’t see past the fear of what he might do next. The idea that he could target Billy terrified her.