Dangerous Game, page 19
Trish and Keir had carefully crafted a strategy for Eddie and Grey this evening. They hoped to shock an admission of guilt from Eddie. Or goad a memory from Grey. Or both.
Now Grey joined her in the hallway outside his hospital room. She smiled at him, keeping her lips from trembling. She wanted to kiss and hold him close, but tonight she’d come also as a deputy. “All ready?”
He nodded as though moving his head hurt him.
“Why don’t we stop by Eddie’s room and say hi?” she asked innocently.
He nodded carefully once more.
“You still can’t remember anything about last night?” she asked as they walked down the hall together. No one had told him all the details about the collision. He’d just been told that he’d had an accident driving home last night. She had to play her part for Grey’s own good.
“No. I hate not being able to remember,” Grey admitted. “It’s just like…just like…”
Just like the last time, she finished the sentence silently. The unfairness of what had happened to the man she loved seven years ago and which had almost been repeated last night, made her determined to help the truth finally come out.
As they approached Eddie’s room, Trish slowed her pace and then she paused outside the doorway of Eddie’s room.
The sheriff’s voice came clearly out to them. “Eddie, you can’t tell me it didn’t happen. I repeat, Officer Franklin saw you jump from the passenger side of Elsie’s Chrysler. That’s why you were hit. Plus you were wearing a helmet so you wouldn’t injure your head. Why did you jump from the car?”
“I’m going to sue that deputy for hitting me,” Eddie said in a thin, reedy voice.
“That deputy found Grey Lawson’s right foot tied to the accelerator. Now why would you tie Grey’s foot to the accelerator and jump from the car?”
“You can’t prove I tied his foot there,” Eddie whined.
Trish was aware that she hadn’t had to ask Grey to stop and listen. He had stopped on his own and was already listening. She clenched her fists.
Eddie went on. “That deputy is sweet on Grey. Maybe she did it so it wouldn’t look like Grey had done it again.”
“Done what again?”
“Drove drunk and caused another accident. Haven’t you figured it out yet? Grey’s been doing all these hit-and-runs.”
Grey clutched her elbow then, squeezing hard.
She nodded and laid a restraining hand over his.
“Why would Grey Lawson do that?” Keir asked.
“Repeating his crime. You know people do that. They repeat their crimes.”
“Sometimes that happens and I think this is one of those times,” Keir said. “In fact, I can think of only one reason for you to hit Grey over the head with your wrench—”
“I never—” Eddie objected.
Keir cut him off. “We found the wrench thrown on the front seat of your truck near the job Grey was finishing. It looks like Grey’s hair and skin are still on it. A simple DNA test will prove that. And we’ve already lifted your prints from the wrench.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Eddie blustered weakly, “but I’m a sick man—”
“You are a guilty man,” Keir replied. “You are the one who’s done the last three hit-and-runs. Why? Was it to stir up Noah and the Vallieres against Grey so he would be forced to leave the area?”
“You can’t prove that,” Eddie said.
“I can prove that you must have hit Grey over the head with your wrench. I can prove that you called Noah and told him to drive down Cross-cut Road. I can prove that you jumped from the moving car where Grey’s foot was tied to the accelerator. Do you think we’re idiots?”
Fury flooded hot and overpowering through Grey. He strode into the room. He jerked back the white curtain that shielded Eddie and the sheriff from view. “I remember now.” Even his words felt fiery hot as they flowed up through his mouth, searing his lips. “I remember everything. You came to the house where I was working. You told me your battery needed a jump. I bent over your engine and then it was dark.”
Grey stared at the one person whom he’d believed was his friend for life. The lava of violence roiling inside him frightened him. He felt himself shaking with it. “Why did you do that, Eddie? Tell me why.”
Tears began washing down Eddie’s bruised face. “I didn’t want to, man, but you came back. I couldn’t stand having you around. It made it all come back. I’m hardly hanging on to my job at Ollie’s and living in that basement room I rent. I know I couldn’t make it anywhere else. I had to get you to leave.”
“Why, Eddie?” Grey asked, his words so low in his throat that they pained him. “It doesn’t make any sense. How could you do that to me?”
Eddie’s face crumpled. “Don’t ask me that. Please.”
“I think I can give you a plausible motive. Grey,” Keir said in his quiet but relentless voice, “you weren’t the one driving that night seven years ago, the night Jake Franklin and Darleen Valliere were killed. I talked to the owner of Bugsy’s today.
“I asked him to recall whatever he could of that night. When I asked him if he had any idea which of you was driving that night, he said it was funny because he thought Eddie was the one with the car keys that night. But he never said anything later because Grey admitted to being the one who had been driving. He thought you two had switched outside and Grey had driven. But you, Eddie, you were driving the car that killed Darleen and Jake, weren’t you?”
Eddie wouldn’t meet the sheriff’s or Grey’s eyes.
Shock nearly choked Grey. “That’s the truth, isn’t it, Eddie?” Grey demanded, molten tears smarting his eyes now. “I could never remember what happened and I just took your word for it. When I woke up—unable to remember anything—in the bed beside you in the hospital, you told me I had been driving. And I believed you. Because surely my best friend wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, would he?”
Eddie’s ugly sobs filled the room and the monitor he was hooked to began beeping. A nurse hurried in. “I must ask you to leave now.” She gave the sheriff a sharp look. “You can wait and interrogate this man when he’s stronger.”
Inside Grey was rocked by a tumult of emotions, too many to sort out, to identify. Eddie lied to me. My best friend lied. Let me go to prison for seven years for his crime.
“I’m done,” Keir said, his tone revealing his complete disgust with Eddie. He led Grey and Trish out into the hallway. Keir made eye contact with Grey. “As soon as I get the specifics of this nailed down, I’ll be notifying both the district and state’s attorney that you were wrongfully convicted and incarcerated.” Keir took Grey’s arm in his hand. “I’m very sorry for all you’ve been through.”
Grey couldn’t make himself react. Eddie’s betrayal had shaken him completely. He was lost. He’d been sold out seven years ago by his best friend.
Trish took Grey’s hand and led him toward the entrance of the hospital. It had been a shock for Grey. She and Keir had known that it would be a shock, but they’d been hoping that hearing the sheriff question Eddie might trigger Grey to remember, at least, what had happened last night.
It had worked but now she faced a man who’d spent seven years in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed. A crime his best friend had let him suffer for. She needed to help Grey through this.
Penny suddenly appeared at her side. “Oh, I’m glad I caught you. Trish, Noah coded and he’s just been resuscitated. He’s bad. I’ve called Andy, but one of my friends, another nurse, said she saw you here. Come with me.” Penny held out her hand.
“I was just going to drive Grey—”
“Let Grey take your car home. Later, you can use my car to drive home. I’ll catch a ride with someone else when my shift finishes. Come. Hurry.”
Trish was torn. Grey did not look well. She didn’t want him to leave until they’d had a chance to speak, to sort this all out. But Penny tugged at her arm. Over her shoulder, Trish said to Grey, “I’ll catch up with you at Elsie’s. Here are the keys to my SUV.” She tossed them to him.
He caught them and left without saying a word to her, his face shuttered.
Outside, Grey got into Trish’s red SUV. He felt as if he’d been standing on solid ground. Then in Eddie’s room, a sudden earthquake had shaken him off his feet and had carried him off to unknown territory. He pressed both his hands flat against the seat and pushed down hard. Eddie had driven the car that night seven years ago. They’d both been thrown from the vehicle on the driver’s side. So when Eddie had realized that Grey didn’t remember the accident, he’d told him that Grey had been driving. I thought he was my friend. My best friend.
Everything that had happened over the last seven years had been based on a lie. Why? Why hadn’t he known, guessed?
Disbelief suddenly mutated again into rage, bone-melting rage. Grey pounded the dashboard until his knuckles were raw and bloody. God, how could You have let this happen? You let them lock me away for something I didn’t do? I’ve carried all the guilt for seven years and I was innocent!
Grey had finally driven away. Night had fallen, cold and clear. The complete opposite of the damp foggy night just two days ago that had changed everything. Forever. Grey hadn’t been able to drive home to his aunt. The anger, the fury he felt over Eddie’s betrayal mounted and mounted until he thought he might harm someone or himself. He wanted to rage, break things. He wanted to pound Eddie into the ground and then spit on his bleeding flesh. Grey’s wrath hit him in swell after swell like a wild squall on Lake Superior and it was just as frightening.
So instead, he drove up and down the county roads, past the scene of the last accident and past the one from seven years ago. An unnatural restlessness gripped him. His skin even crawled with it. In fact, he wanted to shake off who he was and become someone else. Someone else that had not been betrayed by his best friend…by his God.
Grey knew that what he’d heard tonight from Eddie’s own lips and the sheriff’s was the truth. Extreme, appalling truth. There were no words to express the wrenching chaos of his deep, deep betrayal. Why didn’t God bring the truth to light sooner? Why did I have to suffer seven years of being locked in a cell, forced to bear the humiliation of losing everything that made me a man?
He turned the red SUV toward the hospital. The sudden urge to hit Eddie impelled him. He could feel Eddie’s face crumpling, bleeding against his fists.
Then ahead, the vivid yellow and green neon lights of Bugsy’s beckoned Grey. He pulled up and parked by the entrance. He sat behind the wheel, staring at the many neon beer signs. The door opened and the country-western classic, “Your Cheatin’, Heart,” blared into the cool night.
A thirst for a drink more overpowering that any he’d ever felt crashed over him in alternately hot and bitterly cold tidal waves. He got out, opened the door and walked into Bugsy’s.
The music blared louder inside, but it was as if his entrance had struck everyone inside dumb and immobile. Every eye turned toward him and every voice died. The song on the jukebox ended and there was complete silence. He thought he could even hear the people around him breathing.
He knew practically every face staring back at him. One of the guys he’d played high school football with and whom he’d seen working at the hospital stood and pulled out his cell phone. The man, cell phone to his ear, walked outside. Great, call and tell everyone Grey Lawson is drinking again. Pulsing with belligerence, Grey stalked to the bar.
Lamar Valliere was standing there. Staring at Grey. “It’s true then, isn’t it? Harriet called my dad this evening. You weren’t driving the night my sister was killed. Eddie was.”
So the gossips had put it all together before he’d even been privy to the truth. Grey shrugged. He didn’t want to talk. He needed a drink. Now. He turned to the bartender. “Whiskey. Straight up.”
Behind him, someone pushed back a chair. A light hand touched his shoulder. “Grey, you don’t want to do this.”
He turned to see a dark-haired girl he’d dated in high school, a niece of Shirley’s.
“They’ll send you back to prison,” she said. “Don’t.”
Grey didn’t even look at her. “A whiskey straight up,” he repeated to the bartender. Then he said over his shoulder, “I’m going to be exonerated, haven’t you heard?” His voice dripped sarcasm. “The sheriff feels really bad about everything.” He looked back at the barman. “Where’s that shot?”
Looking at Grey from under his bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows, the man poured the shot and set it in front of Grey. He cleared his throat. “Lawson, I’m sorry I didn’t speak up all those years ago. But I thought I was mis—”
Before Grey could reach out and grasp the drink, Lamar took the glass and tipped it to his lips. “Thanks. I usually drink beer but tonight whiskey is just what I want.”
Grey curled his hands into fists. Games, Lamar wanted to play games. “Another one,” he barked. He glared at Lamar. “Do that again and I’ll put you on the floor.”
Lamar sipped the whiskey and leaned on his arm. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Another whiskey appeared on the bar. The dark-haired girl snatched it before Grey could. “Yes, thanks, Grey.”
Grey glared at her. She smiled and walked back to her companion at the table. “I am not—” Grey hit each syllable hard “—playing games. I want that whiskey. Now.”
The bartender studied him. There was a sudden scraping of chairs and those nearest Grey rushed up to the bar and began ordering drinks. The bartender walked away from Grey and began pouring drinks for his other customers.
Grey hit the bar with his fist. “Get me that whiskey or—”
“Or what?” Trish’s voice rang out clear and true over the babble of voices.
Instant silence.
Grey turned to face her, his back to the bar. She stood just inside the door. His mind couldn’t take in her presence here. “What? Where did you come from?”
“I called her,” the guy he’d played football with said from his seat near the window. “I work at the hospital and I know what went down there today. Between you and Eddie. So I called Penny at the hospital, knowing she’d know how to get hold of Trish. I’m not slow. Anyone seeing your face when you walked in would have known you needed—”
“Needed what?” Grey snarled.
“Needed me,” Trish finished. “Do you think Winfield has been clueless to what’s been going on between us?”
Grey did not want to talk about this. He didn’t want to talk at all. He wanted to drink whiskey after whiskey until he passed out. He turned back toward the barkeep. “I want that whiskey now. Or I’m coming over the bar and getting it myself.”
Trish came up beside him. “Pour me one, too.”
Grey felt the sudden tensing of everyone around him. It was as if everyone in the room were holding a collective breath. He gripped the edge of the bar. “I’ve just about had it with this, Trish. I’m going to have a whiskey. In fact, I plan on having several.”
“Fine,” Trish cut in. “I’ll join you. If drinking is a good idea for you, it’s good for me. Pour us two whiskeys, barkeep.”
The man studied her from under his eyebrows. He walked over and poured out two more shot glasses of the amber liquid.
“How much do I owe you?” Trish asked, reaching into her pocket.
“On the house,” the barman said.
Trish lifted her glass to her lips.
“Better drink that slow,” Lamar cautioned from her other side, “if you’re not used to the stuff.”
Trish nodded and tipped it to her lips.
Grey grabbed her wrist, stopping her, spilling the liquor. “Put that down.”
Trish gazed at him. “If you’re drinking, so am I.”
He squeezed her wrist. She stared at him, daring him. Everyone was watching them. Grey felt a sudden release inside him. The tension wasn’t gone, but it had loosened around his heart. “I’m not drinking.” He released her wrist.
Trish lowered the glass back onto the bar. “I’ve changed my mind, barkeep.”
“No problem.” The man took back both glasses.
“Shall we go?” Trish asked as if everything were normal.
Grey wanted to go with her. But he still needed to fight with someone, vent his anger. “You go.”
She smiled at him. “I’m only going when you go and I’m only going where you go.”
She was doing it again. Being fearless. Totally unafraid. And here in public, where everyone could hear. “What am I going to do with you?”
“If I were thirty years younger, I’d kiss her,” the barkeep said with a wink.
“Yeah,” Lamar agreed. “Why don’t you kiss her?”
Grey stared at her. “Why did it all happen? I gave away seven years of my life for what?”
Trish moved closer to him. “Maybe we should call it a severe mercy. Grey, you aren’t the man you were seven years ago. You are the man now you were meant to be. I wouldn’t love you if that weren’t true. Where would you be now if Eddie hadn’t lied?”
Her question aggravated him. He wanted to brush it aside like a meddlesome bee.
“Where would you be now if Eddie hadn’t lied?” she repeated.
“That’s supposed to make it all right,” he snapped. “It doesn’t.”
“God doesn’t make life easy for us.” Trish looked him straight in the eye. “He doesn’t care if we’re happy here. He’s concerned about molding us into the people he knows we can be. Sometimes his love hurts. But where were you headed seven years ago, Grey?”
“Well, it wasn’t heaven,” Lamar replied for Grey, who stood there with his lips pressed tightly together.
Grey wanted to slug Lamar. Instead he roared at Trish, “I don’t care! I’m mad. Mad at Eddie. Mad at God. It wasn’t fair. I paid the price for Eddie’s crime.”
“So now you know what Christ felt on the cross,” Trish said. “God didn’t let anything happen to you that wasn’t done to him first.”
Her simple words pierced him, a thin skewer through the heart. She’d spoken the glistening truth. God knew just how he felt, standing here and now. He’d felt it, too. And worse. A fierce feeling, almost a physical heat, burned inside Grey. Then it was all gone. All the anger, the outrage, the unfairness had burned away. He felt cleansed, weakened.
