Off You Go (9 page)

Coming from a place of non-judgment, Dewey
wondered what kind of man Rowe Tinsley was. What had led him to
cheat on his wife? Was he a bad person? A selfish one? Did he not
love his wife? Did he not love his boys? Did he have an addiction
to sex? He certainly had a hankering for some kinky stuff. Or was
it something totally out of his control? What if his wife didn’t
love him? Perhaps she wasn’t faithful, either. This job had trained
Dewey to look at both sides of the story.

In Dewey’s own marriage, Erica had done
nothing but her best every day. She had supported him and lifted
him up and believed in him from the day they met. She’d been
faithful, too, even when he hadn’t deserved it.

Still, Dewey found little pity for Rowe
Tinsley, and not just because he’d attacked him and nearly killed
him. He had no pity for Rowe, just like he had no pity for himself.
Rowe had made the decisions that had led to this day. Dewey had no
idea what was going to happen, but he had a pretty good feeling
that Rowe Tinsley was about to have a bad night. The worst in his
life.

Dewey heard some shouting and saw two boys
run out into the backyard. Rowe Tinsley followed with a football in
his hand, his arm cocked back as he encouraged his boys to run a
route. Dewey watched them play for a while. Maybe he had a little
pity for the man. Seeing a family broken apart was not something he
would ever relish.

As Dewey stubbed out the butt, ripped the
filter off, and stuck it in his pocket, he saw Hammond Callahan’s
Cadillac pull onto the street.

“
This is not good,” Dewey
said to himself. “I was really hoping you weren’t going to show
up.”

Dewey got back into his truck but didn’t
start the engine. Hammond parked behind the other expensive cars in
the Tinsley driveway and knocked on the door. Rowe’s wife answered.
He kissed her on the cheek and followed her inside.

“
Surely you wouldn’t do
anything with his family there, would you?” Dewey contemplated
calling the police but decided against it. He wasn’t sure what his
role should be, but calling the police would only exacerbate the
situation.

It went bad quickly.

Hammond entered the backyard and one of the
boys threw him the football. He dropped it to the ground and
pointed back toward the house. The boys went back inside, and Rowe
and Hammond walked up to the water. An argument ensued and within
two minutes, Hammond drew a gun.

Dewey jumped out of his truck and started
running toward the front of the house. Hammond had the gun pointed
at Rowe’s chest. Dewey placed a call to 911 as he tried to decide
what to do. He wasn’t the kind to carry a gun, so he didn’t have
much of a leg to stand on. The operator wanted him to stay on the
line, but Dewey hung up.

As he reached the side of the house, staying
low and taking cover, he could hear what they were saying. “My
family is inside!” Rowe screamed. “Are you crazy?”

“
What does it look like?”
Hammond roared back. “You
made
me crazy. You took both my girls away from me.
Both of them.” His voice was cracked and depleted. “You got her
pregnant. What kind of man are you? You killed my grandchild, too.
My only one.”

“
You’re no saint, you
bastard. It happened. I didn’t know all this would happen. Gina
wanted me to leave my wife and
marry
her! She wanted me to help her
raise the child. I told her I would help with the kid somehow, but
I wasn’t going to leave my wife. Don’t tell me you’ve never ran
around before.”

“
Not once in my life.”
Hammond looked very trigger-happy.

Wondering why the hell he was putting
himself in danger, Dewey came around the corner and faced the two
men.

“
Hammond,” Dewey said, the
police are on the way. Drop the gun.” How funny—sadistically
speaking—to ask a man to drop his gun when the only weapon you have
is your words.

Hammond swung the gun around. “Who the hell
are you?”

“
My name is Dewey Moses.
Your wife hired me. I know she left you, but you can’t do this. You
will always have a second chance…unless you do this. Then it all
goes away. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“
You stay out of my
life.”

“
I’m trying to help.”
Dewey decided that, even if the theory he’d been building in his
head wasn’t true, it was a good time to at least toss it out. Lies
save lives sometimes.

Dewey said, “Your daughter is a—”

Right then, Rowe made a move. Hammond still
had his gun pointed in Dewey’s direction, but he sensed Rowe’s
movement and brought the gun back around and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, but the bullet went too far right.

Dewey started running at the two men, both
inches higher and many pounds heavier. Rowe’s wife came out,
screaming for everyone to stop.

Rowe tackled Hammond and the gun fell off to
the side. Dewey jumped into the fray, going for Hammond, too. What
Rowe and Dewey encountered in Hammond was a mixture of old-man
strength and the power of anger. It was like wrestling something
superhuman.

Rowe and Dewey worked together to pin
Hammond down, but he threw several heavy elbows and kicks and
pushed them off. Then he rolled in the direction of the gun and was
able to get his hand on it. Lying on his back, Hammond aimed at
Rowe, who put his hands in the air.

He fired. Rowe’s right shoulder jerked
backwards as he grunted in pain.

Dewey wasn’t done, though. He might have
been small and inexperienced in combat, but he could be scrappy if
he was forced to. He darted toward Hammond and kicked the gun with
everything he had, and it went flying into the marsh with a splash.
Hammond grabbed Dewey’s leg and pulled him down. As he fell, Dewey
threw a fist into Hammond’s crotch that made him wail out in
pain.

Dewey pushed himself up
and stood over Hammond. “What I was
trying
to say, before you so rudely
interrupted, was that I think your daughter is still
alive.”

Hammond let go of his midsection and looked
up. “What? How do you know?”

Dewey heard cop cars pulling up. He said,
“I’ll have her come visit you in jail.”

Hammond started crying.

Police officers swarmed the backyard,
ordering the three men to the ground. Well, two of them already
were. Dewey dropped onto his stomach close to Rowe. As an officer
jumped on top of him and began to cuff him, he locked eyes with
Rowe. “I want my camera and my license back.”

Rowe stared blankly at him as a medic tried
to stop the bleeding. “Is she really alive?”

Dewey wanted to say something heartless and
cruel, but through Rowe’s facial expression and the tone of his
voice, Dewey could tell that he did care about Gina. So instead, he
said, “There’s a chance.”

The officer jerked Dewey up by the arm and
walked him to the police cruiser.

CHAPTER 11

After the fight with Hammond and Rowe, Dewey
hadn’t been able to leave the Tinsley residence until 9 p.m.
Luckily, T.A. Reddick had shown up and talked the police out of
taking him in. Back at home, Dewey finally went through the e-mail
packet Ashton had sent him on Rowe Tinsley. The Tinsleys had a
second home in Beaufort, which made sense. One thing that kept
bothering Dewey about an affair in Beaufort was its proximity to
Charleston. Sure, it’s a different town, but there’s a chance
you’ll run into someone you know. It was too close. But not if it’s
at your vacation home. It’s more private.

Or so Rowe had thought. He couldn’t have
been more wrong. Dewey found out much later in a conversation with
Faye that one of Hammond’s oldest friends lived right down the
street from Rowe and happened to see Gina and Rowe drive into the
neighborhood together. He thought it was odd, so he mentioned it to
Hammond. That’s how Hammond found out. He’d confronted Rowe the
next day, and that’s why Rowe ended it so abruptly.

Dewey hadn’t bothered
telling anyone but T.A. Reddick about his theory regarding Gina.
Yes, he thought she was alive. Because a few things hadn’t made
sense. The first had occurred to Dewey when he heard the young
mother speak at the AA meeting about her son. It was true: killing
yourself was difficult, but killing yourself when you’re
responsible for someone else was nearly impossible. Even for those
who were the worst off. Dewey couldn’t see a young woman like Gina
taking her child’s life, too, just because of heartache. What
he
could
see was
Gina faking it to prove a point. To see if she could break Rowe
Tinsley’s heart. To return the favor.

How could she possibly fake it? It had
finally occurred to Dewey on the bridge. She was a rock climber.
Heights weren’t an issue. Maybe she’d used a rope. She could have
lowered down, dropped into the water, and swam to shore. It was
dangerous, but by no means impossible. Gina Callahan was in good
shape. That was his theory. Gina was already unstable. Heartbreak
can make the sanest person do things that are beyond the
imagination.

***

The Tinsley house wasn’t actually in
Beaufort. It was on the other side of the bridge, two roads off of
Sea Island Parkway, tucked back into the woods. Dewey shut his
headlights off and pulled into the driveway. Flashes from a
television illuminated the windows, and he had a moment of
hope.

Well, it had been a crazy theory. Until he
peeked into the window. Gina Callahan was lying on the couch
watching a reality television show. Her belly wasn’t even showing
yet. She’d found the perfect place to hide out for a while. Dewey
was a little surprised that Rowe hadn’t discovered her while he was
in Beaufort the day before, but Dewey figured Rowe had attacked
him, stolen his camera, and then driven straight to John’s Island
to sack Dewey’s home, not bothering to go by his place in Beaufort
at all.

Dewey tapped on the window, and she was on
her feet in less than a second and running down a hall. He walked
around to the front door and knocked. “Gina, please let me in. Your
mom sent me.”

She didn’t answer.

“
Do you want me to call
the cops? If you don’t answer this door in five seconds, I’ll call
them. You’re not in any trouble with me.”

Dewey took out his phone and dialed a
number. “Faye?”

“
Yes?”

“
This is
Dewey.”

She didn’t say anything.

“
Someone wants to talk to
you. Hold on.”

Dewey pulled the phone from his ear and
knocked on the door again. “Let’s go. I don’t have all night. I
will have the cops here in minutes.”

The door cracked open. Gina was standing
there in front of him in boxers and a T-shirt. Probably Rowe
Tinsley’s. Her red hair was in a ponytail.

Dewey handed her the phone. “Your mom wants
to talk to you.”

She put it to her ear. “Mom?”

Dewey heard Faye’s voice explode with
excitement as he turned and walked away. He’d done his job. They
could work it out from there.

CHAPTER 12

Dewey placed the ball on the tee on the
first hole of the Bird’s Bay Golf Course. He thought about how he’d
saved this course, and he was happy about it. Sure, not many others
knew that, but that was okay.

Shortly after the day it all went down, Rowe
Tinsley’s wife had a press conference and outlined the details of a
slew of illegal activities regarding Bird’s Bay. Apparently,
Hammond and Rowe had paid several hundred thousand dollars in
bribes to various state officials to facilitate the development.
She’d overheard a phone conversation regarding something illegal
and had taken it upon herself to investigate. She had more than
enough proof.

The people of Charleston County went into an
uproar, and the Governor of South Carolina had gotten involved. He
was currently pushing through paperwork to permanently keep Bird’s
Bay as public land, promising that it would never be developed or
swapped. No doubt he’d be remembered for it, and that’s sometimes
why we do the things we do.

No, Dewey hadn’t cured cancer, but he had
done a good thing for the people and for the environment. Yeah,
this was good work, and Lord knows, there was plenty of it still
left to do. He just needed to learn how to defend himself. Maybe
even shoot a gun. His line of work had the potential to be
dangerous from time to time.

Standing back from the ball, Dewey looked at
T.A. Reddick, a man he had too much in common with to ignore as a
friend. “When’s the last time you played?”

T.A. pulled the sleeve off his driver. “I’m
getting back into it as of two months ago. I quit for a while after
a round at Wild Dunes years ago. The course and the wind ate me up,
and I gave my clubs to the kid who was cleaning carts and
left.”

“
What!”

“
Yeah, I’ve got a little
temper…that I’m learning how to control. Now that the DEA is out of
my life, I finally have the time to clean up my game. New clubs,
new game, new life…know what I mean?”

“
I know exactly what you
mean.” Dewey addressed the ball and knocked it 270 yards down the
center of the fairway.

“
No breakfast ball today,
huh?”

Dewey stretched out his arms, finally
getting out of his finish. “Not today.”

T.A. lined up and without a practice swing,
knocked the ball right down the middle, fifty yards past Dewey.
T.A. had nice technique and an athlete’s swing. Made sense; he’d
told Dewey he played soccer for UVA.

Dewey said, “ ‘Haven’t played in a
while’…yeah, right.”

“
I used to be
good.”