Under Currents

by Nora Roberts

  “She took you in when you belonged to me! She looked at me, over your shoulder in that courtroom, she looked at me when they took me away, with satisfaction. She shouldn’t have done that. I’m going to kill you when I’m finished, and sometime, maybe in a year, maybe two, I’m coming back to kill that asshole you’re fucking. I’ll do a better job of it than that drunk rube who thought shooting at a house mattered a damn.”

  Not just a batterer, she realized through the screams inside her head. Not just a vicious, violent, selfish man. A murderer.

  The mask he’d worn, even in court, had fallen away. She saw not only the killer under it, but one who found pleasure in the killing.

  And she would die here, by his hand.

  * * *

  Though he had plenty of time before court, Zane got dressed, save for the tie, dropped a baseball in his suit coat pocket. Maureen was right about it spoiling the line, but he liked being able to turn it in his hand in there when he listened to his opponent examine a witness.

  He folded the tie into his other pocket, then pulled out his phone when it rang.

  “Walker. Hey, Roy.”

  “Hey there, Zane. Is Darby around?”

  “She left nearly an hour ago.” Something crawled up his spine. “Are you at the rentals?”

  “Yeah. Might be she made another stop, but she’s not answering her phone. Tried texting and calling. But lotsa spots around here service drops out.”

  “Yeah. Look, I’m heading out…” He’d call his contact in Raleigh when he got to Asheville. “I’ll swing by Emily’s. She might have gone by there first, just got caught up. I’ll let you know.”

  “Appreciate that. You know, I think we’ll call Best Blooms, just in case she decided she needed something from there.”

  “Good idea.”

  But he heard the anxiety in Roy’s voice that echoed the voice in his own head. Darby wouldn’t get caught up or make another stop that would make her late for work—not without letting the crew know.

  He considered calling Lee as he hurried downstairs. Just go by, he told himself. It’s probably nothing. Better to go by.

  He tried her phone as he left the house, got voice mail.

  “Call me,” he snapped, and jumped into his car.

  When instinct says something’s wrong, he thought, listen to it. He started to hit his hands-free to contact Lee after all, made the turn.

  Saw Darby’s truck.

  He tried to tell himself she’d just had a breakdown, but he knew, already knew, even before he heard the dog howling. Before he saw the cap, the one she’d put on as she left, on the ground.

  The dog leaped into his arms when Zane wrenched open the door. Fighting for calm, he called Lee.

  “Somebody’s got Darby. Her truck’s on the side of the road fifty feet from our turnoff. The dog was in the truck. Her cap’s on the ground. Somebody’s got her.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  He thought of Jed Draper, and following his rage, got back in his car, put the dog on the floor of the passenger seat. “Stay down there.”

  He peeled out, floored it. What had made him think Draper would take losing a fight without retribution?

  Because he’d seen it, Zane realized. Because he’d seen it in the man’s eyes when he’d gotten up off the ground. But if he’d been wrong …

  He took a turn too fast, fishtailed, kept going.

  I saw somebody who looked sort of like that out on the lake, Darby had said. He gave me the creeps.

  No books in the house, playing computer games, no Bingley at any of the hundred-plus colleges he’d checked so far.

  Didn’t make any sense, no damn sense, but …

  He aimed the car toward Walker Lakeside Bungalows.

  “She wouldn’t have pulled over for Jed Draper. That makes less sense. Stay,” he ordered the dog when he pulled up just out of sight of Bungalow Five. To keep the dog where he was, on the floor of the convertible, Zane tossed Zod his tie.

  Then moved quick and quiet to the edge of the drive.

  He saw the shades down. Who pulled all the shades with that view? Bedroom maybe, for sleeping, but the rest of the house?

  He kept moving, kept to the soft ground, searching for a chink in a shade where he could see inside.

  As he circled around, he heard a man’s voice, raised in fury. “You look at me, bitch. You look at me when I talk to you. I’ll shoot you in both knees, then in your gut if you don’t give me some respect!”

  Zane took out his phone, texted Lee:

  Bungalow Five. He has a gun.

  Then turned off his phone.

  With no intention of waiting for Lee, he circled back to the front of the house. Get him outside—set off the car alarm—get him outside, rush him. Get him outside, away from Darby.

  And before he reached the front, Zod began to howl.

  “Good enough,” Zane murmured. He kept moving, felt the weight in his pocket, and curled his hand around the baseball.

  “What the hell is that?” Trent demanded.

  He moved to the front window, eased back the shade to peer out. Behind him Darby flexed, rocked.

  Zod, having jumped out of the car and now tangled with Zane’s tie, lifted his head and began to howl again.

  “Stupid fucking dog. I got a spare bullet for a fucking ugly dog.”

  He cracked open the door, then stepped out on the porch, grinned as he took aim.

  Zane stepped out from beside the pawpaw Darby had planted, winged the ball just like the boy who’d dreamed of playing short at Camden Yards.

  It hit Trent’s face with a nasty thud, and as he stumbled, the gun spurted out of his hand. From behind, Darby rammed the chair into him and Zane rushed forward to finish him off. Trent was out cold.

  She fell back, nearly tipping over, chair and all, as Zane rushed to her.

  “T-t-triple play,” she said through chattering teeth. “Zod to Walker to McCray.”

  Then she began to weep as if her heart, and every part of her, was broken.

  “It’s all right now. He can’t hurt you now.” He slid the gun over with his foot, kept his foot on it as he stroked her face. “I need to get something to cut you loose, okay? I’m going to get you loose, take you away from here.”

  “It’s Trent. He killed my mother. He told me. He killed my mother.”

  He had no words, could only press his lips to her face. “You hold on. Just hold on. Let me get something to cut these off you.”

  “He took my multi-tool. It’s in his pocket. Is he dead?”

  “Here now, here’s Zod.” Zane lifted the dog, set him, trailing tie and all, in Darby’s lap. “You just hold on another minute.”

  Not dead. Zane found a pulse, found the multi-tool.

  Fresh rage beat inside him when he saw how deep those ties had cut into her flesh.

  “I’m going to get you home, okay? Lee’s coming, then I’m going to take you home. I’m going to take care of you, of everything.”

  “He killed my mother because she loved me, because she was there for me when I needed her. He killed Clint Draper, he told me. Maybe because he enjoyed it, maybe because he wanted to cause you more trouble. Because I was with you.”

  “He’s never going to hurt you again. He’s never getting out again. I need to tell Lee what’s happened, and have him call for an ambulance. We want him to live, Darby, believe me, we do,” he said when he took out his phone, turned it back on. “For a long time, in a cell. Lee, he’s down. I’ve got Darby. We need an ambulance. Yes, I’ve got her.”

  He slid the phone back in his pocket. “He was coming in quiet, but they’re only seconds away. You don’t have to talk to him now. I’ll take you home.”

  Those gorgeous eyes of hers were huge, a little glazed, but she kept them on his. “You hit him with a baseball. You hit him in the face with a baseball. I want the ball.”

  “Sure, we’ll get that in a bit. It’s gonna have to go with Lee for now. Look, there he is now,
and pretty much the whole Lakeview police force.”

  Lee ran toward them, gave Trent a long look. “Ambulance is coming. I’ll have another sent along.”

  “I don’t need one.” Darby cuddled the ecstatic dog. “That’s Trent Willoughby, my ex-husband. I stopped because I saw the car, looking like it was broken down, at the shoulder of the road. I don’t know a damn Prius from a damn Toyota,” she said to Zane.

  “Darlin’, a Prius is a Toyota.”

  “See? He knocked me out, and I came to tied to the chair. He came to kill me, but he had a lot to say first. He told me he killed my mother, and how he did it. He told me he killed Clint Draper. I’d rather say all the rest later. I’m a little shaky.”

  “That’s fine. How about Zane takes you on to our place? It’s close, and Emily’s there. I’ll be along directly.”

  She started to get up, swayed. Zane plucked both her and the dog into his arms.

  “Just a little shaky.”

  “I’ve got you,” Zane said, then looked at Lee. “I’ve got her.”

  “I see that. You take her to Emily.” He looked down at Trent as Zane carried Darby away. “I’ve got this.”

  * * *

  It took hours. While Emily soothed and fussed, Zane took a walk to settle himself. It didn’t work, but he had enough left to pretend it did, for Darby’s sake.

  She gave her long, detailed statement to Lee, let Dave treat professionally the lacerations on her wrists and ankles, which Emily had bandaged.

  Because she asked, Dave gave Darby an update on Trent’s condition.

  Concussion, detached retina, broken nose, chipped cheekbone. “Nice play, slugger,” he said to Zane.

  “But he’ll live?” Darby pressed.

  “He’s in serious condition. Not critical. Oh, and he lost a couple of teeth, some major contusions on the backs of his legs.”

  “She hit him with the chair he’d tied her to.”

  “Another nice play. It wouldn’t hurt you to see your doctor.”

  “It’s not my first punch in the face. I hope it’s my last.” Steadier, she rose. “Emily, I can’t tell you what it means that you were here when I needed you.”

  “Honey, I promise you I always will be.”

  “He took my mother from me.” Her eyes welled again. “She’d have been glad to know I found someone to stand in for her.” Breaking, she pressed her face to Emily’s shoulder when Emily pulled her in.

  When Darby steadied, drew back, Emily draped an arm around Brody’s shoulders.

  “I’ll never doubt your instincts again, about anyone. Ever.”

  “I’m real sorry about your mom, Darby. I’m real sorry.”

  “Me, too. You’re my hero, Brody.” Darby leaned over, kissed him lightly on the lips. “I have a lot of those today.”

  She found more when Zane finally got her home. Her entire crew waited on the porch along with vases of flowers, casseroles, pies. A pound cake.

  “We just wanted to see you for ourselves,” Roy began. “We know you gotta rest, but we just wanted to see you for ourselves first.”

  He lowered his head when his voice broke.

  “We got two of the sites cleaned up good.” Ralph cleared his throat. “We figured that’s the way you’d want it. We’ll take care of the rest tomorrow, ’cause we don’t want to see you on the job tomorrow, and that’s that.”

  “Who’s the boss?” she demanded.

  “Don’t care about that. I ever see who put those bruises on your face out in the open, he’s gonna wish I didn’t. That’s that, too.”

  “How about I take you inside, get you settled down.” Hallie moved down the steps. “And these men here can take all this inside. There’s likely to be more coming,” she continued as she put an arm around Darby. “Zane, you left the door unlocked,” she added, steering Darby inside. “We didn’t feel like we should just go in. More’ll be coming,” she continued, “as word’s out about what happened. People want to help out as they can. You matter here in Lakeview, Darby.”

  “Hallie, I need to go upstairs so I can have a good cry.”

  “I’m gonna take you right up there. Gabe, give me one of those vases to take up.”

  “This one’s from Miss Cherylee. It’s nice and showy.” He gave Darby a light rub on the back. “How about I give Zod a you-know-what, Darby. Seems he earned it.”

  “Thanks, Gabe. Thanks, all of you.”

  Hallie held her while she cried, then sat with her until she slept.

  When she woke, she looked out the tall window at the view of the lake, the boats sailing on it, the kids jumping off the raft.

  She looked at the showy flowers sent by a woman she’d only just met. Thought of the tableau that had greeted her when Zane brought her home.

  Rising, she studied her face in the mirror, the bruised cheekbone, the black eye—a fairly mild one, all things considered.

  “You’ve never been stupid,” she told her reflection. “Except the times you thought you were.”

  She walked downstairs, found Zane pacing the living room, his phone at his ear. “She’s up,” he said with his eyes fixed on her face. “I’ll call you back. Everybody’s checking in to see how you’re doing. I just looked in on you a bit ago. You got some sleep.”

  “Yeah. I feel better for it. Zane—”

  “Please,” he said, then rushed to her, drew her in—so, so gently—held on. “I just need this. Just a minute of it.”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  “When I found your truck, life stopped for a minute. Everything stopped. I should’ve gone to Lee with what Brody told me.”

  “No. No, and no. That would’ve been a betrayal, and Lee couldn’t have done more than you were doing. If you blame yourself for even the tiniest bit of this, it takes it away from where it belongs. Don’t do that.”

  She drew back. “Don’t do that when your brilliant cousin, our incredible dog, and your excellent baseball saved my life. Can we…”

  “Anything.”

  “Careful or it might be a trip to Aruba. Can we sit out on the veranda, and drink some wine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  When he got the wine, settled in beside her, she laid a hand over his. “I want to get this all over and out. How did you know where to find me?”

  “At first I thought Drapers, but it just didn’t fit. Then I remembered you’d said you’d seen a guy like Brody talked about, that he’d waved at you from the lake. That he gave you the creeps.”

  “Just that?”

  “That and everything Brody told us. Not being able to find anybody by the name he was using at a college in New York. My gut said go there, so I did.”

  “I’m going to drink to your gut.”

  “I’m so sorry about your mother, Darby. I know it must be like losing her again.”

  Tears swirled and spilled again. “At first it just emptied me out, just drained me. He bragged about it, gloated. Then it gave me what I needed to try to hurt him. I couldn’t have done it without you and Zod, but I was ready to go down fighting.”

  After swiping at tears, she sipped a little wine.

  “Something snapped in him, Zane. I think it was always there, pulled tight if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “He covered it, kept it below the surface. Those undercurrents, right? He lost control with me before, but not like this. This was, well, calculated crazy, I want to say. He planned everything after he saw the articles about me fighting off Graham. He planned it out, like he planned killing my mother.”

  She let out a breath. “I don’t think it would’ve worked. I think he’d have been caught. But he didn’t. He thought he’d get away with it because he’d gotten away with it before. And he liked it. He killed two people because he liked it.”

  “I’m going to say more.”

  “More…” Shock slapped her again. “More people?”

  “A long time between your mother and Clint. When they’re fin
ished with him, I’m going to say more. At least one or two more.”

  “He was always going to snap,” she continued. “He was good at hiding it. I was young and not as experienced as I thought I was. He was so charming, said everything I wanted to hear. Oh my God, he was so sweet with my mother.”

  “He knew she mattered most to you.”

  “Yes, he knew. But once he had me, he started to slip. I wasn’t stupid. I figured out it wasn’t going to work, but I had to try. You don’t just get married one day, and throw it away the next. It wasn’t stupid to try.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Inside, I’ve told myself I was stupid. Bad judgment, letting myself get carried away by a good-looking man who seemed so right for me. I was stupid for convincing myself I was stupid.”

  “I’m glad you worked that out.” He kissed her hand, then her bandaged wrist.

  “Convinced I was stupid, I told myself you and me—we’d just cruise along for a while, see what happened. I mean, after all, what I wanted was some good sex with a man I liked, a hot man who understands the life-giving properties of baseball, appreciates the appeal of an ugly dog, finds it in him to embrace my creative visions, and so forth.”

  “I am all that.”

  “You are all that, and a box of cream-filled donuts. And I love you—that’s not stupid. I want to build a life with you, also not stupid. I want to make a family with you, not at all stupid.”

  “Are you going to marry me, Darby?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He got up, picked her up, sat down with her in his lap. “When?”

  “That’s tricky. I want simple, right out here, with a party in the back. But I’ve got Roy getting married next spring. Busy season, and he wants a honeymoon. I can’t have both of us off.”

  He kissed her cheek, her eye, her lips. Lingered on the lips. “Labor Day weekend.”

  “Labor Day?”

  “Even you have to take Labor Day off. Especially to marry me.”

  “But—you mean this September. Walker, that’s practically tomorrow.”

  “Why wait? Especially when you’re not stupid. And I happen to know some women who can plan one big-ass party in about five minutes.”