The Heart of Texas (19 page)

Chapter 39

Riley couldn't bring himself to go onto the ranch. He stopped his SUV at the gate, under the twisted D's, and rested his head on his hands. How was he going to be able to face the rest of the Campbells? After what Jeff had done, how could he look Beth in the eye ever again? Jack had been destroyed, had murder in his hands as he tightened them around Jeff's neck, and God knows, Riley just wanted to let him finish it. That would have been the coward's way out, to have let someone else deal with Jeff. No, he needed to deal with all of this himself. He had managed to get Jack to hold off, to leave it, and what they needed to do now was talk to Beth, talk to Donna, understand what Beth wanted to do. Shit. How was he ever going to be able to have Steve call him friend when his brother had done so much wrong?

Grief knifed through him, and he couldn't stop it from manifesting into the utter blackness that was consuming him. He was slow to anger, always had been, but what Jeff had done —how could he?— Riley couldn't begin to understand. Beth was so small, so delicate and so damn young and now pregnant. He was going to be an uncle again. Maybe something could come from this, something positive, seeing Steve so happy, so in love. The child may have been conceived in hate, but all it would ever know was love.

He sighed. That was of course all dependent on whether Beth and Steve, and Jack, would even let him be part of the little one's life. He caught the flash of metal out of the corner of his eye. Steve's car pulled into the D, not stopping, just going straight past Riley with single focus, and in a singular moment of decision, Riley turned on the engine and followed his best friend to the main house. He arrived as Steve climbed out to stand looking up at the sprawling ranch house, something akin to shock on his face.

"Steve?" Riley said carefully, but Steve didn't turn. "Steve?" This time Steve turned on his heel to face Riley, his skin pale, his eyes staring and scarily empty.

"Sorry, Riley, didn't see you, man," he said, running a hand through his short hair and sighing. He looked devastated, lost, in shock, and Riley reached out to touch his friend. Steve moved out of reach at the last moment.

"Steve, I'm sorry."

"What for?" Steve seemed genuinely puzzled. "It wasn't you. It was your brother, your half-brother." With that he left Riley standing in the sun, climbing the steps to the front door and going inside. Riley stood for a while longer. What he was waiting for only became obvious when Jack's truck came to a stop next to his SUV and Jack climbed out, his face as white as Steve's. Riley didn't move. Jack didn't move. They just looked at each other. Jack leaned back against the door of his truck before bowing his head, his shoulders shaking with grief. Within seconds Riley was there, holding his husband, being strong for him when Jack couldn't be strong for himself. He held him for a long while until Jack could breathe properly, knowing they needed to go inside, knowing they would be needed.

* * * *

Beth wouldn't look at Steve, wouldn't touch Steve, and Donna just stood, loosening the grip her daughter had on her. "I need to go and find your brothers," she said quietly, cupping her daughter's face and looking into liquid blue eyes. "Talk to him, baby, he loves you."

Steve sat down on the bed next to her, his hands clasping at hers. "Beth?" She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them firm. She wasn't going to hide; he wouldn't let her.

"You made me feel loved, beautiful again, and now all I am is ugly," she forced out, her body heaving with anguish, her hands on her belly. "And now I have this thing in me," she spat out, then almost immediately raised wide eyes to Steve. "Oh God, I didn't mean that, Steve. My baby!"

Steve pulled her in close, his hand over hers. Joined over
their
baby. "You are so beautiful to me, and our baby is just that. Ours."

"Can you forgive what happened?"
Can you forgive me? Can you love me still?

It was almost as if Steve could read her mind, sense the unspoken words, as he began gently kissing his love onto her skin, each kiss punctuated by whispered words, "I love you— I love our baby— We'll be such good parents and make her life so good. We'll be fine."

"I want so much to believe that's true."

"Believe it. Believe in us."

* * * *

Jack phoned Josh, telling him to just get over here now, not telling him anything else, and then he sat, stony and quiet, listening to his mom and Riley talking softly. They were discussing what Beth should do, what they all should do. Would Beth want this dragged through the courts? How else could Jeff pay? Jack looked at his bruised knuckles, remembered the feel of his fingers around Jeff's neck, the sense memory as hard as his heart, pushing blackness where emotion should be. He felt numb, only wishing Josh was here to help him. The two of them could… No, what would that do to Beth, to have her brothers in prison for murder?

Josh brought the Texas day in with him, in suit and tie, a briefcase in his hand and a frown of concern on his face when he saw Jack as still as death and his momma in Riley's arms.

"Is it Beth? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" No one said a word.

"Josh, we need to talk." This came from Riley, who suddenly seemed to be the only one capable of rational speech. "It's Beth. We know who the father of her baby is. It's Jeff, my brother Jeff." Riley pushed it all out there in one breath, Josh widening his eyes in shock and looking to his brother for confirmation. Jack closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, not wanting to push this on Josh, but knowing he had to be told. "It wasn't consensual, Josh," Riley finished.

Jack released a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, waiting for Josh to react. All Josh did was leave the room, making for the study. Jack followed and saw his big brother unlocking the gun case, pulling out the rifle, and grabbing at shells.

It was the same impulse to kill that had cut through Jack. It wasn't right; he had to make Josh see. "No. Josh, please." He blocked Josh, tried to get the bullets off him, tried to stop him, and finally stood in the doorway, the only way out of the room, Riley a hulking presence behind him.

"Out of my way, Jack," Josh said calmly, looking over his brother's shoulder at the brother of the man he wanted to kill.

"No, Josh, we need to talk to Beth."

"Out. Of. My. Way." He pushed past Jack and Riley.

Josh almost made it to the door, almost made it out to the daylight with murder in mind, but Beth was there, standing in the kitchen in the sunlight, tiny and pregnant, with her spine straight and her shoulders back.

"Josh, no," she said simply. It was enough. It defused his anger immediately.

Steve moved to stand next to her, his arm around her protectively, and she leaned into him for strength.

"Josh, I'm sorry," she offered quietly, closing her eyes. Josh froze for a mere second, then took that step forward, the rifle clattering to the floor as he released his death grip. Pulling her away from Steve, he gathered his sister into his arms. "Don't you say that, Elizabeth, don't you ever say that
you
are sorry."

Jack reached blindly for Riley's hand, holding it so damn tight it had to hurt. Riley seemed to sense the need for touch, bumping his shoulder gently. Finally Josh pulled back, cupping Beth's face with his hands. "Is the baby okay? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Josh," she replied, "and the baby is fine." Taking Josh's hand, she placed it on her belly. She smiled softly. "She's here, and she's fine." She looked at Jack, at their mom standing in the doorway, age and worry creasing her face, and then back at Josh.

Where would they go from here?

* * * *

The 911 call was anonymous, made from a payphone in the city. "There's been a shooting. Jeff Hayes is dead." That was it. The entire message. Delivered in a monotone, no emotion there at all. A woman's voice.

When dispatch sent the paramedics, they found the body of a tall man, his face and torso red-raw with bruises and cuts, obviously beaten and beaten hard. They found a bullet wound that had missed the heart by the breadth of a hair. They found a man very close to death.

Unconscious, but still alive.

* * * *

Beth didn't really have an awful lot of friends outside of her family. Years of hospitals and doctors isolate even the most gregarious of people, and so, when Eden arrived at the D, it lifted Beth's heart to see her. She arrived with concern marking her face. "Riley called me and said you needed me."

Beth just burrowed deep in her arms. It was heaven to have a friend not much older than her who seemed to instinctively know what to do, holding her close and just stroking her hair. She could see Riley at the table, knew he was struggling, knew she should reach out to him as well and tell him she didn't blame him, but the nerves inside stopped her. He was so tall, like Jeff, so strong, confident, imposing. He wasn't Jeff, but she didn't have the emotion left in her to make that distinction with any clarity, even though she knew she was making it worse for him. He sat in the kitchen, a picture of misery, of anger, of murderous intent, and Eden encouraged Beth to sit, still holding her hand. Steve hovered expectantly while Donna boiled water in the kettle and busied herself to keep focused.

"Can anyone tell me what's going on?" Eden asked, confused and frowning. No one said anything. "Guys?" Finally, it was Riley that spoke.

"Jeff is the father of Beth's baby. He…" Riley paused for a moment, then said
,
"He took advantage of her." He clenched his hands into fists, knuckles white with tension. Eden paled, turning to Beth.

"Rape— He wouldn't— he— oh my God."

"Beth, did you call Dallas PD?" No one said a word. Beth could see that everyone seemed to be avoiding looking at Eden. "Riley?"

Riley flinched and saw Jack frown and open his mouth to speak, before shutting it again and subsiding into more brooding.

"I don't want to tell anyone," Beth said firmly. "I don't want my little girl to grow up seeing reports that she— I'll tell her," she clasped Steve's hand, and he crouched down next to her, "We'll tell her what we can, when we can, but I won't take it any further now." At this Riley made a choked-off sound, pushing his chair back and stalking out of the kitchen, the door slamming behind him. Jack made to stand, but Beth stopped him, pushing herself to her feet and squeezing Steve's hand. "I'll go. It's my demons he needs to face."

Carefully she made her way down the steps to the front of the ranch house, seeing Riley leaning against the fence, watching Solo and her foal in the open paddocks. He was hunched over, his hands supporting his head on the wooden frame, and Beth had never seen him look so beaten.

"Riley?" Startled, he looked up, stumbling as he straightened and catching hold of the white wood to stop himself from falling, embarrassment on his face.

"I couldn't stay in there," he said, "I'm sorry, I couldn't look at you— no— that wasn't it. I couldn't let you see me." He sounded confused, disorientated.

"Why couldn't you look at me, Riley?" Beth leaned into him, her small frame warm against his arm. "Am I different to you now?"

Riley looked horrified at the thought. "No, God, just— No— What Jeff did…" He started and then stopped, choking. It seemed he wasn't sure where to start.

"It wasn't you, Riley, and it wasn't Eden. It was your brother, a man that you really only have biology in common with."

"He's not a man," Riley spat out immediately, "he's a monster." Beth just nodded in agreement, kind of slipping under Riley's arm, and gripping his T-shirt. Riley looked down at her.

"Promise me one thing, Riley?"

"Anything. Whatever I can do." Riley sounded so broken.

"Be a good uncle to this little one and, above all, love my brother as he deserves to be loved." Riley pulled her in tight.

"Both of those things are easy to promise, Beth."

Chapter 40

Detective Tom Stafford arrived just as the paramedics were leaving. His partner was already there, scribbling notes and talking to the CSIs who were hovering.

"Thought he was still kicking," he said, indicating the scene investigators, who only turned up to corpse cases.

John Lafferty turned to him. "The call we got said he was dead. CSI got the heads-up from DPD there was a 10-87, hence their beating your lazy ass here."

"So, bring me up to speed."

"Jeff Hayes, shot once, through and through chest wound, beaten badly, unconscious, but very definitely alive when he was loaded onto the meat wagon."

"Who called it in?"

"Downtown payphone."

"Security cameras at the phone?"

"On it already. Message not recorded."

"Okay, do we have family here, witnesses?"

"No one, house is empty, staff missing. We have a call out to his wife." John led his partner up the stairs, Tom noting the blood splatters on the hall wall, on the wooden floors, and a bloody smudge halfway up the stairs. They finally turned into some sort of set of linked rooms, decorated in muted blues and grays, a man's suite.

"Forensics have closed the room he was found in, but we have blood in a sink and blood on the floor where the body was found."

"So he gets attacked, beaten, hence the blood in the hall and on the wall of the stairs, then he comes to his room to wash off the blood, and his attacker follows him." Tom paused, looking at the entrance to the sprawling apartment, and gauging possible angles. He held his hand held out in front of him like a child pretending to shoot a gun. "One shot, to finish him off."

"Sounds plausible I guess. Question is why would someone take the time to beat him, wait for him to then clean himself up, and then shoot him?" John indicated the Rolex on the table just inside the door, the cufflinks and a wallet. "Looks as if robbery wasn't the motive, despite the rich pickings."

"So, crime of passion then, scorned lover, wife, girlfriend. Revenge maybe?" Tom offered. In summary, it was just the kind of case he usually loved— intricate, with a web of reasons why someone might have been attacked. What he didn't need was a case that was going to hit the papers before he even had time to breathe. John answered his cell, nodding and responding before sliding it closed. "Nada on the wife, T, but we have a contact for his brother. The mother's details show she owns this mausoleum so no trace there."

"Brother it is then; put a call in, then we visit the hospital."

* * * *

Beth gave Riley one final hug.

"I'm gonna go in and let Jack know you're okay. He's in there worrying like a mother hen, an' I'll send him out."

That brought a smile to Riley's face, and he relaxed back against the railing to wait. As Beth disappeared in to the house, his cell started to vibrate in his pocket. He brought it out and slid the case up to answer the call, listening to the words from the caller, even as he watched Jack jump down the steps to reach him.

He said little in response to the caller, acknowledging his identity and nothing else. Carefully he ended the call and slid the cell back in his jeans, horror growing in the pit of his stomach and beginning to spread out through his body.

"That was Dallas PD," he said, sounding deceptively calm even to himself. Jack frowned.

"About Beth?"

"No, no…" Riley felt the horror reach his heart, the disbelief of what he'd just been told, of what Jack might have done. "It's Jeff. He's been shot— Tell me, Jack, Please tell me it wasn't you."