Come Back To Me (32 page)

Cara hurried to her room to get cleaned up and run a comb through her hair. She dressed in loose slacks and a knit top, and slipped on her running shoes. Finally, she went out onto the back porch and retrieved the cardboard box, making sure to replace the screen covering the crawl space. Cara carried the box into the kitchen where her mother waited, overnight case in one hand, her purse in the other.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes.” Cara reached into the box and pulled out James’ letters. They were tied together with twine. “Take these.” She handed them to her mom. “Put them in your bag. I want you to keep them safe for me.”

“Cara . . .”

“Just do it Mom. Please.”

Louise reached for the bundle of letters and stuffed them into her purse. Cara removed the gun and set it on the kitchen counter while she fished beneath the silverware tray for the extra key, then she grabbed the gun and her purse.

“Did you talk to Phil?”

“Yes. I explained everything to him. If we’re not there in one hour he’s calling the police.”

“That’s perfect,” said Cara. “Let’s go.”

Cara’s mother didn’t hesitate. She tossed the overnight bag into the back seat of Micah’s car, and climbed into the passenger seat. Cara opened the garage door, checking to see if Micah was anywhere in sight. She didn’t see anything suspicious.

She discarded the empty cardboard box in the garbage can. Nobody would think a thing about an old cardboard box. Cara climbed behind the wheel, put the gun in the glove compartment and stuck the key in the ignition. She turned it. Nothing happened. She turned the key again, still nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

Cara jumped out of the car and threw open the hood. She fished around the engine compartment for a few minutes.

“Damn.”

“What?” Her mother was by her side, staring at the engine.

“He removed the distributor. He must have done it last night. The car won’t start.”

“What are we going to do, Cara?”

At that moment, the phone rang.

“I have to answer it,” said Cara. “It’s Micah.” She ran for the kitchen, her mother trailing behind.

Cara took a deep breath before she picked up the receiver. She had to control herself. She had to sound calm.

“Hello?”

“You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be silly, Micah. We’re having coffee and then we’re going for a walk.”

“You’re leaving me.” Cara heard something in his voice she’d never heard before. Death. She heard death in his voice.

“No, Micah, we’re . . .”

He’d already hung up.

Her mother began to panic. “What are we going to do?”

“Call the sheriff.”

Cara dialed 9-1-1.

“9-1-1 operator.”

Cara attempted to keep her voice even. “My name is Cara Welsh. I live in the ranch at the end of— yes, yes that’s the place. My husband is Micah Welsh. He’s been beating me. Yesterday he threatened to kill me and my mother. I’m pregnant. I’m trying to get away from him, but he’s on his way home. He’s going to try to stop me. He’s going to try to kill me. Please send a patrol car. Please send someone to help me. Please send someone now.”

“Is your husband there ma’am?”

“Not yet. He’s on his way home. He knows I’m leaving and he’s on his way home. His office is only fifteen minutes away. He’ll be here soon. Please send someone. Please.”

“Is he in the act of assaulting you?’

Cara’s voice rose. She yelled into the phone, “No, he’s not assaulting me! He’s coming home to kill me! He’ll kill me and he’ll kill my mother! Get someone out here! Get someone out here now!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but if he’s not in the act of assaulting you, there’s nothing we can do.”

“What are you talking about?” Cara screamed into the receiver. “He’s coming home to kill me! You have to get someone out here now! Get someone out here now! He’s going to kill me! He’s going to kill my mother! He’ll kill my baby!”

Cara dropped the phone. She leaned back against the closest cabinet, panting. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like there was an elephant sitting on her. Micah was coming home. She was a dead woman. She and her mother were both dead.

Cara grabbed her mother and dragged her out the back door. Her mother still clutched her purse. “Look there.” Cara pointed at a grove of trees. “Do you see that path through the trees? Do you see it?”

“Yes,” her mother said, her voice trembling.

“That path leads to another ranch. It leads to our closest neighbor’s house. Go. You won’t get lost. Just stay on the path. It’s about half a mile. You can do this. You can do this, Mom.”

“I can’t leave you. I can’t leave you here.”

“You have to. You have to get help. Go get help. The sheriff will come. I swear they’ll send someone.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Then you’ll know what happened. You’ll be able to tell them what happened. Tell them the gun is Micah’s. Tell them I got it from his desk drawer. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Her mother nodded. “What about the baby? Come with me.”

“Mom, I’m begging you. Go. Go now.”

She gave her mom a shove in the direction of the trees, watching until she vanished from sight. Cara listened for sirens, but she heard only the wind. She ran up the steps and across the deck. She’d left the gun in the car. She retrieved it from the glove compartment. She had some time. If he’d called from the restaurant, even if he sped out to the ranch, she had a little time. The front of the house, that’s where she’d have to wait for him, in front, so the Sheriff’s deputies could see everything.

They’d come. They had to come.

Cara surveyed the front yard. She could wait by the shed on the side of the house, but it was a little too exposed. There was a large grove of Aspens down by the creek, but she didn’t think she could get there before Micah drove by. It would have to be the evergreen shrubs beside the front porch. They were thick and would provide her with cover. Cara looked at her feet. If Micah looked down, he might see her black running shoes. Cara slipped them off and tossed them onto the front porch.

She wondered if she should close the garage door, but decided she’d leave it open and hope the sight of his car with the hood up and both doors open would distract him. Cara said her trigger word,
James
. She prepared to meet her fate.

She crouched in the bushes. Her heartbeat slowed. Her breathing became regular. She felt the baby flutter within her and she laid a protective hand over her abdomen.

A car flew down the graveled drive. It had to be Micah. Cara clicked off the safety just as Jerry had shown her.

G
oddamn bitch! Goddamn mother fucking cunt! How dare she do this? How dare she think she could leave him? Cara was his. She belonged to him. He would see her dead before he let her go.

Micah was speeding and the Jeep swerved as he hit the gravel drive. He overcorrected, and when he did the pistol slid off the passenger seat. It clanked against the car door. The gun didn’t have a safety. Micah cursed and tried to reach for it, nearly losing control of the car again. He left it where it was. He’d have to get it when he stopped. It was her fault. It was all her fault.

Micah saw the open garage door. She’d tried to leave. He knew it. Goddamn her, he knew it. He pulled up behind his own car, not that she could go anywhere without the distributor. He’d removed it last night as his insurance policy. The hood of his car was up. So she’d figured it out, had she? The smart little shit.

“Damn, this is going to be fun.”

Micah felt himself getting a hard-on. Maybe he wouldn’t kill her. Maybe he would just teach her a lesson. Make sure she understood once and for all that he was the boss. He climbed out of the Jeep and walked around to the passenger side. He grabbed for the gun before it could drop out of the car.

“Cara,” he called. “I’m home for lunch.” He walked through the garage into the kitchen.

∗    ∗    ∗

Cara waited for Micah to come back outside. She’d seen the gun in his hand. She prayed he hadn’t realized the chamber was empty and reloaded it. She heard Micah yell her name, but Cara tuned him out. She was listening to the approaching sirens.

Thank God.

She heard sirens and they were getting louder. Micah needed to come out of the house now. The timing was critical. Cara called Micah’s name. He came running out onto the porch and down the front steps. He stopped in the grass fifteen feet from her, looking around like a wild man, looking for her. She stepped out from behind the bushes and approached him on bare feet. Safely out of reach, she stopped.

“Micah, turn around.”

Micah pivoted. Cara pointed her gun at his chest. Her hands were steady.

He laughed, incredulous. “You’re going to shoot me?”

Looking beyond Micah, Cara saw two sheriff’s cars swerve into their driveway.

“Yes, I’m going to shoot you.”

Micah raised his gun and pointed it at her face. “Checkmate,” he said. “I’ll splatter that pretty face of yours all over the yard.”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t play with me bitch. I can take you down in a heartbeat.”

“I’m not playing.”

Cara watched as four sheriff’s deputies climbed out of their vehicles, guns drawn. Two went right and two went left, flanking them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Welsh, lower your weapons,” one of the deputies called out. “Lower your weapons and we can help you work this out. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Micah waved his gun around, baiting her. Cara didn’t flinch. She didn’t move a muscle.

“Mr. and Mrs. Welsh, listen to me. Lower your weapons. I’m ordering you to lower your weapons.”

Micah winked at her. “I’ll lower mine if you lower yours. I’m so hard already I could burst” His grin was positively evil.

Cara kept her face blank. Her heart pounded. Terror threatened to knock her legs right out from under her. If she’d guessed wrong, she would die. Her baby would die with her. She no longer hated Micah for the abuse she’d suffered at his hands, but neither did she pity him for what she was about to do. She prayed it would work.

She called out to the officers, “I’m dropping my gun.”

“That’s right.” Micah laughed, his gun still pointed at her. “Ladies first.”

Eyes locked on Micah’s face, Cara lowered her hands, tossing her gun far enough that he couldn’t reach it.

She hissed three words, just loud enough for him to hear. “It’s Jerry’s baby.”

Cara watched, fascinated, as Micah’s angelic face contorted and he bellowed like a raging bull. He pulled the trigger.

Cara dropped to the ground, rolling into a ball, wrapping her arms about her unborn child. She heard the report of three, maybe four shots, and then a thud when Micah fell a few feet from her.

Cara couldn’t look at him, so she closed her eyes.

It seemed as if an eternity passed before someone reached her. A voice repeated her name, but she was unable to respond. Friendly hands helped her to her feet, but her legs refused to hold her. Strong arms lifted her.

“We need an ambulance. I think she’s in shock.”

I’m not in shock. I’m just very, very tired
.

∗    ∗    ∗

Frederick Escobar, Micah’s nephew, sat in the waiting room. He balanced a crystal vase filled with lilies on his lap. He’d decided to forego roses. That had been his uncle’s favorite flower.

He’d wanted to speak with Cara the day he flew in, but he’d been told she couldn’t have any visitors. She’d gone into premature labor and the doctors were doing their best to stop it.

When he’d received the phone call from Brian, he hadn’t been all that surprised. His uncle had been disintegrating for months now. Frederick had known it was just a matter of time before the man fell apart. He’d warned his mother about it. That’s why they’d decided to send Brian to Park City in the first place, to keep a close eye on the business and have someone, someone who could stay one step ahead of Micah.

Unfortunately, even Brian hadn’t seen this coming. Nobody had, except perhaps Cara. Brian was meticulous about cleaning up his uncle’s messes. The police found nothing suspicious at the restaurant.

Frederick had been asked to identify the body. The experience was unpleasant. Micah had been shot three times, twice in the back and once in the abdomen. Any one of the shots by itself would have been fatal.

He’d been told by the officers involved that Cara had dropped her gun as ordered. His uncle had not. Instead, he’d pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger. The deputies had no way of knowing when they fired that Micah’s gun wasn’t loaded

Frederick wondered why Micah had brought an unloaded gun. It seemed odd, but then Micah had become very unpredictable. Perhaps he’d just wanted to scare Cara, but he’d lost his head. Or maybe he’d forgotten the gun wasn’t loaded.

Frederick rubbed his temple. He could have intervened, he supposed, if it had suited him. Perhaps he should have, perhaps not. He doubted she realized it, but Cara had done them a favor. His uncle had become a huge liability. He felt some sympathy for her, but all the same, he needed to find out how much she knew. He suspected Cara was quite innocent, in which case he’d certainly provide for her and the child. But if she intended to go to the police unfortunately something would have to be done about her as well.