Games of Zeus 02- Silent Echoes (11 page)

Ian chuckled. “If you change your mind, come get me. I’ll be here … doing nothing … but more research.”

Taylor’s hips swung as she walked to the door. Ian couldn’t help but admire them. Head cocked, he tracked her steps to Lexi and Tripp’s bathroom, and seconds later, the splash of running water. Once the sounds quieted, telling Ian that Taylor had closed the door, he gave his full attention to the screen in his lap.

Searching public records for a man who had once set up Taylor for his own murder should have been an easy task, but Ian found himself with an ever-mounting frustration level. He found all the new reports from ten years before, with Taylor Claire Marsh’s name in them. The victim, one Tanner Meadows, had supposedly been bludgeoned to death.

“It only fits because she can wield a sledgehammer like a rock star,” Ian said to himself from his perch on the guest bed.

He read through the articles, the case filings available online, and the information from later when one Mr. Tanner Meadows had been found drunk in a bar.

“It’s a tragedy of justice that a young woman was held for so long, without due process, while the alleged victim partied his way across Alabama,” the account said.

From what Ian found, Tanner had been drunk off his ass for the entire few weeks, and her set up fueled legislation for victims’ rights when the victim had, in fact, been innocent.

“Of course, no one knew that then,” Ian said out loud. “How are they gonna know? Gotta go with the facts in evidence.” He skimmed a few more articles and found Tanner had been tried for setting Taylor up, though she’d refused to testify against him, citing emotional distress.

Tanner had been found guilty of numerous crimes and sent to prison for twenty years.

“Obviously, he deserved it.”

Ian backtracked through various sources, looking for more information on Tanner’s background before he hooked up with Taylor. Ian found his target to be well educated, with a Juris Doctor no different than Tripp’s, yet at even a younger age.

“Dude, you’re five years older than her, a lawyer, and you set her up for murder? I should have known crazy came in all packages, but you’d think someone that smart wouldn’t go to such lengths. Just shoot her already and be done with it.” As soon as he said it, and though no one had heard, Ian cringed. “Sorry, Taylor. Didn’t mean that.” His apology, too, wouldn’t be heard. “Okay, enough of this. The talking to myself is getting out of hand.”

Ian shot off a few emails to friends in various places—the FBI, state law enforcement in Alabama and even a few people he kept up with in the state department. As the day reached five p.m., he sent another series of emails to the prison where Tanner had been incarcerated. Having done enough work for one day, he closed the laptop with a plan to return to it soon. At the very least, Ian wanted to keep tabs on Tanner and ensure he stayed away from Taylor.

11

Water rushes from the falls, tumbling upon itself until it lands with a crash in a natural pool. What should be a soft ripple at the edge bursts with a torrent of spray as her hand breaks the surface and flails in the open air. It submerges again when he refuses to release her or to provide air to her lungs.

His hold of her body against his own tightens.

Her face and head submerge farther with each of his thrusts while her arms and legs seek purchase. She kicks out, missing him. Even when she manages to make contact, the blow barely penetrates.

A smile escapes, though until her movements subside, she will fight.

Her swing extends to his uncovered chest. Nails scrape across his skin, burning deep lines in his flesh.

He twists her hair around his wrist and pushes lower, forcing himself to move backward toward the outer edge of what should be paradise. “Not this time,” he says. “You will not betray my love again.”

Her feet scrape the tops of his, movements slowing with each passing moment.

Her hands surge in a final attempt to free herself from her captor.

The roar of falling water gives cover to their struggle as does the remoteness of their location.

She’d asked for the islands for their anniversary.

He’d been more than happy to oblige.

Water bubbles around them, each thrash sending cascading lines away from the two of them.

The pace of his heart quickens as the finale to their tumultuous relationship nears.

Her hand dips beneath the surface.

He lessens his grip.

Her body ceases to struggle.

“At last,” he says. A step toward the banks drags her with him. He lets go and turns toward the ropes and rocks he’d left gathered there.

His arms weigh heavy with the tools as he brings himself back to her immobile form, face down in the crystal blue, Caribbean water.

He drapes rope over her, pulling it from underneath and wrapping it around a second time. “Just to be sure, darling.” His tone is calm and smooth, a perfect accompaniment to the island feel.

A tug secures her within the bonds.

He lifts the wrapped blanket of boulders and attaches them to her restraints.

Her body sinks.

He drags her body toward the center, where the water is near to his shoulders, and adds the final weight. With one solid shove—toward the falls—she disappears.

“Goodbye, my love. May we meet again.”

Paradise becomes hell.

• • •

Ian blinked open tired eyes. For a moment, confusion plagued him until he realized he’d fallen asleep on the guest bed in Tripp and Lexi’s house. His laptop still sat on his lap, cold from having shut off itself.

Two hours had passed.

She hadn’t come back.

Leaving his research and the details about Tanner, Ian rose.

The house greeted him with perfect silence. “Taylor?” Ian’s footsteps echoed through the empty hallway. “Girl, how long a bath did you take?” He continued toward the stairs, finding nothing. “Hello? Anyone?” No one responded.

Ian peeked into the third bedroom.

Not a soul.

“Maybe I’ll take my own bath.”

He slipped into Lexi and Tripp’s room, noting their bathroom door remained shut. “Taylor?” He rapped his knuckles on the door. “You decent or want some company?” Ian grinned at himself.

With no answer, he figured she’d gone out, but opened the door just to check.

“Taylor!” Ian raced to the tub where Taylor bobbed and pulled her from under the water.

Blue lips and the paleness of death reflected in her face.

He scrambled, sliding her out all the way, falling back to the floor, Taylor’s body spilling as fluidly as the liquid itself to the tiled surface.

Ian leaned his ear close to her mouth.

Not a bit of air passed from her to him.

He tilted her head back. His lips met hers, and he offered one deep breath of his own.

With his hands over her chest, he pressed to the beat of ‘Stayin’ Alive’ and moved back to her mouth.

Another breath.

More chest compressions added the crack of ribs under his hands. He wanted to stop, to not hurt her, but knew he had to keep going.

Another breath.

Another crack.

Her body arched, seizing into itself until she flipped to the side and spewed clear liquid.

“Holy shit!” Ian grabbed the towel from the rack and wrapped it around her. One lift up and she fell into his arms. He stormed his way out of the bathroom, through the hall and down the stairs. “You better not die. Not on my watch.”

Her head lolled to the side, but the blue tint had been replaced with a light grey.

With her still in his arms, he grabbed cell and keys off the kitchen table and raced outside to the driveway, beeping the car doors unlocked.

Maneuvering her into the front passenger seat of Tripp’s Jaguar took two attempts. With each of his own breaths, he checked her face, her color, the movement of her chest. More and more life seeped back into her, but she hadn’t yet regained consciousness.

Ian pulled out of Lexi and Tripp’s yard, whipping rock and dirt into the air. The car fishtailed as he spun it onto the street and pressed the emergency button. “This is Ian Sands.” He didn’t even let the operator answer when his call went through. “I have an unconscious woman with me, and we’re heading to the ER.” He took a deep breath. “She was in—she stopped breathing, and I revived her with CPR.” His eyes darted to Taylor as he sped down the road.

“Okay, sir—”

“We’ll be at the ER entrance in ten minutes.”

“All right. Can you tell me—”

Ian ignored the operator as Taylor groaned, and her head flopped forward. Another gush of liquid burst from her lips. Her hands grasped the door frame. She heaved in air again and blinked. With her body straight upright, her head held high as if nothing had happened, she turned toward Ian and blinked again. Back to the road in front of her, her lids fell, and she slumped against the seat.

“Dammit, woman.” Ian pressed hard on the gas, barreling through the roads at double limit. He arrived at the hospital early as blue and red lights spun at the entrance.

Riley stood at the doors along with a nurse and doctor, a gurney and a few gawkers.

Ian jerked the car to a stop at Riley’s toes.

The passenger door flew open. Taylor fell into Riley’s arms. “What the hell did you do?” Riley asked.

Ian tore out of his side and around as Riley lifted her onto the gurney. The lab-coated people took over, though one approached Ian and took him by the arm, asking a dozen questions a minute to which Ian had only one answer:
I have no idea.

• • •

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose as he entered the hospital waiting room where Ian sat.

Ian’s heart lurched. “Is she going to be okay? Taylor Marsh, that is.”

The doctor waved a folder in Ian’s direction. “Are you Mr. Sands?”

Ian nodded.

“Great. I was told by the detective to contact you if I couldn’t find him. Do you know where Sergeant Dale is? Or any of her other family?”

“Uh … yeah.” Ian pulled out his cell to text Riley, who’d gone for coffee. “Can you tell me anything about her?”

“And, you are related how?” The doctor tilted his head and half-closed one eye.

“Just a friend.”

“Then, unfortunately not. No. I’m sorry. But … can you tell me if she’s had any incidences like this before? Any reason she might have tried to kill herself?”

She did not try to kill herself. No way.
Ian refused to believe it, even as the possibility rang true. “That’s something maybe you should talk with Sergeant Dale about.” He also didn’t know how much to say or not without Tripp’s input.

“Was she taking any medication, any—”

“I really don’t know.”
But, God, I wish I did.

Riley arrived as the doctor started his next question, and the two walked out into the hallway. Ian dropped into his chair again, his body trembling with a fear he didn’t understand for a woman he barely knew.

Had she tried to kill herself? To drown herself?
He didn’t remember seeing any alcohol or drugs in the room.
How can someone drown themselves in a tub? Wouldn’t their body fight it?
Questions ran rampant as Riley re-entered. Ian didn’t rise but kept his seat. Riley hitched his gun belt. Ian crossed his arms.

A silent standoff had begun.

“So, once again … what the hell did you do?” Riley finally asked.

Ian held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, man. I was asleep.”

The firm set of Riley’s lips suggested he didn’t believe Ian. “Why didn’t you stop her?” Riley’s fists clenched. “You were supposed to take care of her.”

“Are you kidding?” Ian stood, meeting Riley’s gaze straight on. “I drove like a bat out of fucking hell to get her here. I couldn’t stop her because I had no reason to believe she’d do anything.” Ian punctuated each statement with a finger in the air. “Did
you
expect this? If you did, don’t you think you should have said something?”

Riley dropped his chin down. “I didn’t. Never. No. She wouldn’t. I just—” He ran a hand through his hair.

The paging system called for a Doctor Tackert to Wing D, stat. The urgency made Ian bristle.

“Why are you here, Ian?”

“Because a friend is in need.”

“Not because you just put up her bond and want to make sure you get it back?”

Ian balled his fists similar to Riley.

“I know you did it. Don’t know why, but she deserves better.” Riley gave an upward lift of his chin.

“You son of a—”

“Hear me out.” Riley pushed closer to Ian. “Taylor and I have a long history, and she’s had it rough a few times. But I
know
she wouldn’t do this. So, that means something else happened. And, you were the only one there. If you do so much as break a hair on her head—”

“You’ll kill me? What? Are we in middle school?” Ian’s snide retort didn’t stay under wraps as he’d hoped.

“Yes. And I’m the one with a gun.”

“I don’t play games with women.”
Often. Anymore.
Another call through the speakers for yet another doctor tensed Ian’s muscles.

Riley cocked his head toward the sound but turned back to Ian. “It’s not a game. She’s like a sister to me.”

Ian stuffed a hand in his pocket. If ever he stood on one side of a war, with a princess as a prize, Riley stood at the opposite, waiting and at the ready for the attack. Rather than keep up the pretense, Ian held out a hand.

Riley’s eyes narrowed.

“Truce. But only for her,” Ian said. “For now.”

Riley took Ian’s hand and shook. “Listen … if you get asked about parents or others to call, you don’t say anything about anyone but me.

“Why?” He thought he’d heard Lexi or Emma mention that her parents lived nearby.

“I told you, she’s had it rough. So, let’s just leave it at that for now, all right?”