Digging Up Death (A Mari Duggins Mystery) (33 page)

I don’t know why, but I actually believed him. “What about Jack? Fletcher? Are they okay? And Henderson?”

“I got your message. An ambulance is on the way for Fletcher. We haven’t found Jack or Henderson yet, but we will.”

A car sped across the grass.

“Fletcher’s okay, right?”

Detective Lopez wet his lips.

“Promise me he’ll be okay.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, my pent-up emotion spilling. “And you’ll find Jack.”

Comforting arms wrapped around me, and I felt thirteen again, pleading for his help to save me from my father. He stroked my hair as I returned his embrace. “I can’t promise that. But I will do whatever I can to make sure you’re okay, and that Henderson gets what’s coming to him.”

I clung to Lopez. All the hurt and bitterness rushed from my body. “I believe you.” I pulled away and dried my eyes. “I’m so sorry for blaming you, for treating you the way I did these past few days.”

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. I blamed you for my mother’s death when it was my father’s fault. I blamed myself, but he pulled the trigger.”

Detective Lopez’s cell phone rang. “Lopez … right, bring him in and keep searching. Call in the dogs, he couldn’t have gotten far.” Detective Lopez put away his phone. “They found Jack. He’s okay. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Tears crowded my eyes, the tautness in my throat stinging. Regardless of everything that had happened, Jack’s obvious guilt, a part of me hoped he had gotten away, that he wouldn’t go to jail. That I could have saved him.

My shoulders drooped, my body heavy and drained. All I wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep for a month. But I couldn’t. Not yet. There was one more thing I had to do. I searched for Matt’s phone, but I must have dropped it. He wasn’t going to be happy.

“Detective, may I borrow your phone? I need to call Ms. Bomani.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

10:21 p.m.

“MARI!” JACK JUMPED OUT of the vehicle and ran to me. “Thank God you’re all right.” He grabbed my shoulders and leaned in to kiss me. I jerked away.

“I’m sorry. That was wrong of me.” His mouth turned down, the wrinkle between his eyebrows deepening, but I had no words of comfort. Not after what he’d done.

Betrayal, love, anger, yearning collided in one cataclysmic moment. “Walking out on us without explanation was bad enough, but lying to us like this. How could you?”

Sirens screamed, closing in.

“I never lied to you,” he rasped.

“I did things I never dreamed I would do, all for you and the sake of our kids.” My arms thrashed the air, my Sicilian temper peaking. “And all the time you—’”

“Let me explain.” His jaw flexed.

“I know all about the forgeries. The dagger and heart scarab. What else?” I shoved him away. “What else have you been lying about?”

A car screeched to a halt next to Detective Lopez’s. Doors slammed. I turned toward Ms. Bomani. Two FBI agents jogged past her, guns drawn.

Jack grabbed my hand. “Mari!”

I yanked it away, unable to interpret the look that flashed in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jack, but I can’t protect you any longer. I won’t let our children lose both their parents.”

The two FBI agents ran to Jack’s side. He raised his hands. One agent pushed him to the ground and cuffed him behind the back while the other pulled the dagger from his pocket.

I stepped away. The tears started again as they stuffed him inside their vehicle. He stared through the glass and mouthed “I’m sorry.” I turned away. A revving engine the only reply.

As if on cue, the Texas windstorm settled along with my soul.

Detective Lopez rested his hand on my shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to be fine.” I dried my tears. I was done crying and ready to start fresh. “Can I see my kids now?” They were all that really mattered. All that ever really mattered.

Ms. Bomani jogged to my side. “Are you all right, Mrs. Duggins?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” The pain in my head throbbed worse than ever. “I just want to go home.”

“First you need to see a doctor.” Detective Lopez’s concern warmed me.

I glanced at the police car with Jack inside. “Fine, but will you go with me?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Thank you for calling, Mrs. Duggins. I know it had to be difficult.” Ms. Bomani glanced in Jack’s direction. “I’m sorry, I need to go. When I’m finished questioning Mr. Duggins, I need to get your statement. You did say you have information and evidence to corroborate your ex-husband’s involvement in the stolen and forged artifacts?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Good. I will leave now so you can rest. I will stop by tomorrow.”

I slid into Lopez’s passenger seat, gazed out the window, and watched as they drove off with Jack. Detective Lopez started the motor and tore across Henderson’s beautiful lawn. How many years had he been plundering the world’s history to finance his lavish lifestyle? Five? Thirty-five?

“Do you think they’ll find Henderson?”

“The K-9 unit will sniff him out. It’s only a matter of time. You’re lucky. You came out of this alive.”

My burden didn’t lift. “What about Fletcher?”

“Let me make a call.” Less than a minute later he ended the call.

“Is Fletcher okay?”

“I couldn’t get through. I’ll try again later. You know you shouldn’t have gone to Susan’s house.”

“I know, but if I didn’t you might not have figured it out in time. Henderson would’ve fled the country and gotten away.”

“He would have surfaced sooner or later. Men like Henderson always do. Just promise you’ll never do anything like that again.”

“There’s not going to be a next time. I’m sticking to archaeology. Might even try a turn in the field. What about Susan?

“We’re following up on her insurance claim for Henderson’s death. They’re getting her now and taking her to the station. At the very least we’ll get her on life insurance claim fraud, obstruction of justice, conspiracy. Hopefully, she’ll give us details to help convict Henderson, but who knows. The extent she went to fake and cover up his death, she might be willing to plea.”

“Do you have any idea how they did it?”

“Not yet. Unless one of them divulges the information, there’s no pathology to follow. We’re positive Brian Farlow, the Assistant Medical Examiner, was in on it. He signed the autopsy report and claimed he performed one when it is obvious he hadn’t. I still can’t figure how they pulled one over on the paramedics at the scene.”

“I think if you check the hospital records for the morning Henderson died—” it was so weird talking about a live man this way, “—I think you’ll find Susan was one of the paramedics that brought him in. And if she was, couldn’t she have given Henderson some drug to simulate death like in
Romeo and Juliet
?”

“The way this case has been going, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You’ll need to check out her cousin at the crematory as well. He has to be involved.”

“Now that does sound like a Shakespearean play. I’ll see if any drugs are unaccounted for at the hospital or her pharmaceutical company. I’ll put someone on the cousin. Thanks, again.”

“Oh, and I seem to recall a lone cameraman buzzing around the hall that morning. Maybe they have footage that could be useful in court.”

I turned toward the window, watching the light posts speed by. Was this nightmare really finished? The aching in my head throbbed relentlessly. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a mild concussion, yet I knew it would heal. I prayed Fletcher would as well. If he didn’t, I didn’t know if my heart would ever recover. Headlights beamed in our direction. My heart fluttered. “Stop the car.” I pushed open the door to the cruiser and jumped out as it slowed to a crawl.

The car before us jerked to a stop. Fletcher bounded out, sprinted toward me. He swallowed me in a hug and swung me around and around like in those cheesy romance movies. As he held me in his arms, I prayed the credits to this happy ending would never end. Then he lowered me and his eyes bore through me.

“You came back for me.”

He cupped my face. “Mari, hear this now: I will always come for you.”

I smiled at the
Princess Bride
reference and touched his matted, blood-soaked hair. He grimaced. “Sorry.” I wrapped my arms around his waist. Tears blurring my vision. “I thought I lost you.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” His eyes beamed with longing.

“What are you waiting for? Why don’t you kiss me already?”

“As you wish.” Fletcher leaned in and kissed me so deeply, so passionately, so purely, I thought I would slip through his fingers. But he held tight. And this time, I knew he’d never let me go.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Thursday, 9:58 a.m.

Mari’s Kitchen

“MOOOM, MATT’S HOGGING THE remote.” Ben ran to me in his slippered feet. His green eyes and sandy-brown hair sticking up every which way reminded me so much of Jack. I didn’t regret letting the kids stay home from school. It felt like a Saturday, especially since I slept in. Saturday used to be Jack’s special day with the kids. He always cooked them a huge breakfast like I did this morning. I hadn’t had time to keep up the tradition, but that would change.

My entire body ached. “Last I checked there was more than one television in this house.”

“But, mom—”

“No buts. Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold. I made egg in the nest, your favorite.”

Jack’s favorite.

Ben schlepped to the table and plopped down in his chair. “I wish dad were here.”

I bit my lip. The kids had no idea he was in the States, in jail. “He’d be here if he could.”

I served Ben his breakfast. He devoured it, pleading for seconds. Despite everything, I was happy to be back with my family. Safe and whole. Last night had been a nightmare with a storybook ending.

By the time Detective Lopez drove me home from the hospital it was past 1:00 in the morning. Everyone slept, nestled in their beds. Instead of waking them and holding them until morning like I wanted to, I tiptoed from room to room and stood over each of them, marveling at the gifts they were to me. My family, my dream. I was just too busy to realize it. How would I break the news about their father? I wouldn’t until after Christmas.

Bypassing the preprogrammed, half-full coffee carafe, I reached for my cup of tea and tightened the belt on my satin robe. I was swearing off coffee for a long, long time.

Padding past the living room to where Matt sat watching Sponge Bob reruns, I smiled. At sixteen, he was clinging to his childhood, while trying to forge his way in the adult world. Was it too late for me and my son? I hoped not.

I just had to figure out the perfect moment to tell him the truth. That his grandfather, the man he had thought was his dad, concocted the plan to pass him off as his son to save face because his wayward daughter had the nerve to get pregnant out of wedlock. Being the good Christian man he was, he couldn’t risk anyone finding out. So we kept it hidden. And I went along with it. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. Leaving Matt in the care of my parents was the biggest regret of my life, but fate had returned him to me when he was six. Maybe God could bring his heart home for good.

My phone equipped with a new battery rang, and I slipped into Jack’s office to answer it. I hadn’t been in there since Ms. Bomani confiscated his computer. I pushed my bed hair behind my ears. She said she’d be by today, but I didn’t have the energy or desire to dress for the occasion.

“Hello, this is Mari.”

“It’s Jan Carson at KTXL. I’m calling to let you know you’re one of two still being considered for the morning show opposite John Lewis. We really liked the chemistry between you two and want to schedule a second interview.”

I should’ve been elated, but instead I felt nothing. Isn’t this what I had dreamed about, hoped for, worked so hard to achieve? Something inside me must have shifted. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I ceased to care about my career, but inside me the fire no longer burned. Was this what contentment felt like?

“I need to be honest and let you know that Mr. Lewis and I may have some personal issues to deal with. I’m not sure he’ll be willing to work with me when he learns my son is the boy who assaulted his son.”

Silence. “That might present a problem. He will be making the final decision. Still, he’s a fair man and won’t sacrifice the show for personal problems. Can you be here at 2:00?”

“Today?”

“Yes, we’re trying to get the interviews completed before the holidays so we can start the new year with the new team.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make it.” I planned to spend the entire day in my pajamas, playing board games and reconnecting with my children.

“Oh, I see.” She paused. “You are aware without this follow-up interview your chances for the position drop dramatically.”

“I understand. But I won’t be able to come to the studio until after Christmas.”

Her silence spoke volumes. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Duggins. We’ll be in touch.”

After ending the call, I slipped into Jack’s chair. There were so many things I needed to think about. Downsizing from our big home, and checking into public schools. I had just sabotaged my chance at my dream job and turned down a hefty salary, but I still needed to keep this family fed and clothed, especially with Jack going to jail. I sighed, more relaxed than I had felt in years.

I thought about Elizabeth and Fletcher and how I finally believed all things would work together for good. Several minutes later, I walked into the living room overcome with the urge to connect with Matt as his real mom. I waited for a commercial break. No, I didn’t regret sacrificing my career for my family.

“Matt, there’s waffles and bacon when you’re ready.”

He jumped up. “Homemade?”

“Yep.”

“Awesome.” He hesitated, then embraced me with strong arms, hunching over me. When had he grown so tall? There was so much I didn’t understand about my adolescent son, but I was determined to find out. He pulled away and looked at me. For a moment I caught a glimpse of the little boy who brought me wildflowers and put “chocolate” mud balls in an empty Valentine’s candy heart. “Mar … Mom, I’m sorry.” Tears crowded his steel blue eyes.