'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel) (21 page)

She slapped her hand on the table, making the dirty glasses
stacked up near her elbow rattle.

“Why did I call you? What’s the matter with you? You truly are
as dumb as you look. Think about it, brother. Lincoln is digging into
everything, and Wes is going to tell the cops we lied. They’ll start looking for
someone else to blame. Guess who’ll be the prime suspects?”

“Well, hell.”

“Yes. ‘Well, hell’ is right.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“For starters, stop Wes before he divorces me and spills his
guts to the cops.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

She eyed him carefully. This was where Fagan had balked. Would
Prince do the same?

“You could kill him,” she said.

Prince didn’t blink. “We’ve been down this road before.”

“And?”

“Whatever...I don’t have a gun anymore. I pawned it, and I
ain’t burning down an entire motel of people just to get rid of your
problem.”

“I have a gun.”

“Oh, yeah, right. We use your gun to kill your husband?
Seriously, Lucy, don’t you watch TV? They got ballistic tests and all that shit.
You got a way to explain how your gun killed your husband and not go down for
it?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”

“I’m all ears,” he said.

“I’m about to become the victim of a crime. Someone is going to
kick in my back door, ransack my house looking for my husband, beat me up, make
me tell him where my husband is, knock me out and steal shit, including my gun.
While you’re taking Wes out, I will have the police at my house making a crime
report. All I’ll know is that it was a man wanting Wesley Duggan. And nobody
will be looking for you because you’re already dead.”

Prince sat there a minute, thinking. Lucy thought he was going
to tell her no, and then he stood up.

“Well, if you’re gonna convince the cops about all that, you
need to take a bath, wash your damn hair and brush your teeth, then get rid of
all these liquor bottles. Right now this place looks worse than mine and
Fagan’s.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “Good thinking. There are trash bags under
the sink. Help me.” Then she stopped and looked back at her brother. “Put your
gloves back on. If I’m about to be robbed, they’ll fingerprint this place from
top to bottom.”

It took nearly an hour for Prince and Lucy to put the house
back to rights; then, while she went to shower, he took the garbage bags out
into the alley and distributed them among several of her neighbors’ garbage
bins. When he came back inside she was in a clean pair of pajamas and her hair
was still wet. She handed him a bag with her jewelry in it, along with some of
their silver and a laptop. The handgun was on top, loaded with a fresh clip.

“We just cleaned up the house, now we need to mess it up
again,” he said. “Make it look like you fought. Where do you want to start?”

“I’ve already messed up my room some, tore stuff out of the
drawers, and then I hit Wes’s office. I’ll say I’d been getting ready for bed
when I heard you kick in the door. I came running with my gun to see what was
happening, and you surprised me in the living room. We need to shove some chairs
around, turn some stuff over.”

“You’re gonna need some bruises and wounds to match—including
on your head—or they won’t buy it. Especially since Wes and you are on the
outs.”

She frowned. “Then do it. Start hitting me. Shove me into the
furniture. I’ll fight back so that my hands will look bad, too.”

Prince frowned. “Just don’t scratch me. They can get DNA out
from under your nails.” Then he rolled his eyes. “Shit. We’re going to a lot of
trouble here.”

“If we can’t stop this from unwinding, we’re in even bigger
trouble,” Lucy said.

“Fine,” Prince said, and hit her on the side of her jaw with
his fist. Her head snapped back as she fell against the sofa and end table, and
just like that, the lamp went flying.

Her lip was bleeding when she got up. She came at him with her
hands curled into claws, aiming for his arm, and broke two nails when she
grabbed at his shirt.

He hit her again, and she staggered backward into Wes’s leather
chair. It scooted across the floor all the way to the fireplace, leaving scratch
marks on her precious hardwood floor.

Back and forth they went, until Lucy could only see from one
eye, and blood was pouring from her nose and mouth. There was a deep cut in her
forehead, and large bruises were already forming on her face and arms. She
couldn’t imagine what her body must look like under the pajamas, but it had to
be bad, because she couldn’t quit sobbing from the pain.

“That’s enough. Any more of this and I’ll be breaking bones,”
Prince said, and picked up the bag with the loot. “Where’s your cell phone?”

Lucy was light-headed and weaving on her feet, but this was
good. It added credence to what had happened.

“It’s in the kitchen on the table.”

Prince went to get it, laid it facedown beneath the edge of the
sofa and then glanced at the clock. “Lie down right there with the side of your
face on the floor, like you were unconscious. Give me fifteen minutes, then
crawl to the phone on your hands and knees. Make sure you’re crying and your
voice is shaking when you call 911.”

“That won’t be a problem,” she said as she flattened out on the
floor. “Oh, my God, I hurt. I think you broke my jaw.”

“I’m going to the kitchen now. I’m gonna turn the lock on the
door, then kick it in. The door will be open and you’re gonna freeze your damn
ass, but it will only add to the truth of your statement. Your description of me
is going to be vague, because you only got a glimpse before I hit you in the
face. After that, you were trying so hard to get away you didn’t see much. Tell
them I was a white man. Don’t go the ‘black man did it’ route. Tell them you
thought I was about forty, and that I had a salt-and-pepper mullet. And make me
heavyset. I always wanted to be bigger.”

“Forties, heavyset, salt-and-pepper mullet.”

“I’m gone,” Prince said. “Once Wes is dead, what are you going
to do?”

She frowned. “I hate to say it, but I think that as a woman who
was just robbed and assaulted in her home, I would be afraid to stay here. I’ll
figure something out. Do you have a cell phone?”

“I can get a throwaway.”

“Call me. The next person who needs to go is Lincoln Fox, and
then we’re home free.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he said.

“Prince.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” he muttered, and left the
room.

She heard the door shut, then what sounded like three sharp
blows to the wood before she heard it slam against the kitchen wall. She smiled.
The bases here were covered. Now all Prince had to do was get Wes.

* * *

Wes couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t get Lincoln’s voice
out of his head. There was a knot in his gut that kept getting bigger and
bigger. What he’d done to Lincoln was horrifying. He’d prayed to God and was
counting on that
ask and ye shall receive
verse
being on the up-and-up, because he’d prayed hard for forgiveness. He didn’t
expect Lincoln to forgive him, but he wanted him to know that he was making
amends. Trouble was, he didn’t have Lincoln’s phone number, so calling him was
out of the question.

The couple next door was fighting, which didn’t help solve his
lack of sleep. He thought they were drunk or high. These days it was hard to
tell which. He got up to go to the bathroom, wincing at the feel of grit on the
floor and thinking of his beautiful home and the years he’d worked to make a
nice life for himself and Lucy. Now she had turned into a lying drunk and he was
holed up in this half-assed motel.

The room felt chilly as he crawled back into bed, but he didn’t
like to sleep in a hot room, so he pulled the covers up tight around his
shoulders instead. He was drifting toward sleep when he heard a soft knock at
the door and then a high-pitched voice. He couldn’t tell what they were saying,
but he figured someone had just knocked on the wrong door and ignored it.

The knock sounded again, followed the same muffled voice.

He threw back the covers and stomped to the door. “Damn it to
hell, go away!” he shouted, and then yanked the door open. He got a glimpse of
someone standing in the shadows with something pointed at his chest. He saw a
flash of fire, then everything went black.

* * *

Meg and Lincoln were still in bed, and the rain was
still coming down. The second time they’d made love it had been without the
desperation that had overtaken them before. Maturity had changed the contours of
their bodies, and age had given them perspective on how blessed they were to
have found their way back to each other. Love was still a tentative word, but it
was present in every look, every touch. Linc had professed his intentions. It
was enough. All Meg had to do was hope for the best and pray that he could
protect himself from the trouble he was stirring up.

When he dozed off beside her with his arm thrown across her
belly, she lay without moving, taking the time to study the man he had
become.

His face was what her grandma Foster would have called noble.
Even features, dark eyes below a strong brow, a square jaw and seriously
sensuous lips. Just thinking what he could do with them made her shudder. But
all the looking only enforced what she already knew: that she would never get
enough of the man beside her.

Fifteen

I
t was still raining and nearing nightfall
by the time Linc went home. Resurrecting his relationship with Meg had spurred
the need to clear his name.

After the warm, homey place he’d just left, coming back to the
dark, cavelike room was jarring. He began turning on lights, then carrying out
the ashes from his woodstove, thankful for the rain that kept the embers from
starting a fire outside. As soon as the stove was clean he built a new fire,
then showered while the flames licking at the wood were taking hold. By the time
he got out, the place was snug and warm. He dug in the fridge for a snack and
settled for a beer and some cheese and crackers, then headed for the recliner to
watch some TV.

He was channel surfing as he ate when he caught a news clip
that made him up the volume on the remote. He recognized Sheriff Marlow as the
man standing on a riverbank. Beyond him was a winch truck pulling a partially
submerged pickup out of the water. When he saw Fagan White crying in the
background, it only took a couple of minutes before he realized they were
talking about searching for Prince White’s body.

He grabbed his cell phone and called Meg.

“Hello?”

“Turn on your TV now!”

She threw back the covers and grabbed the remote. “Which
channel?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Okay...I’m there and...wait. It’s over. Was that Sheriff
Marlow?”

“Yes. That pickup they were pulling out of the Kentucky River
belonged to Prince White. Fagan was in the background all the time Marlow was
talking, and he was crying. They’re looking for Prince’s body.”

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe this! I wanted this to be over,
but I didn’t think it would end this way.”

“Yeah, me, either. Were you asleep?”

“Barely. I’m glad you called. I will definitely sleep easier
tonight.”

“Good. And on a different subject, I want you to know that
today was the best day I’ve had since we were in high school.”

Meg leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. “Me,
too, Linc. I’ve spent a long time waiting to feel like this again. Regardless of
why you’re here, I’m so glad you came home.”

“So am I, honey. Sleep well. I’ll call you tomorrow after I
finish working on the Thurgoods’ porch.”

She giggled. “Watch out for Jewel. She’ll be looking over your
shoulder through the whole event.”

“Oh, great. Thanks for the warning.”

“It’s what you get for being such a good guy.”

“Love you, Meggie.”

“Love you, too.”

* * *

It was nearly eleven in the morning before Linc finished
repairing the back stoop at Elvis and Jewel Thurgood’s home. The entire morning
had been something of a trial, measuring and cutting the lumber while, true to
Meg’s warning, Jewel Thurgood butted in on a regular basis, making sure Linc was
doing it to suit her. Aunt Tildy finally coerced Jewel back into the house under
the pretense that it was too cold for her to be outside. The quiet afterward was
broken only by the sound of hammer and saw. Now it was just him and Elvis.

The old fellow was leaning against the house out of the wind,
quietly watching Linc work, but Linc could see the intelligence in his
thoughtful gaze. He was of the opinion that Elvis Thurgood wasn’t as diddly as
he pretended to be.

Finally Linc drove in the last nail, then stepped back to eye
the job.

“What do you think, Mr. Thurgood? Look okay to you?”

“Yes. You did a right fine job,” the old man said. “We sure
appreciate it.”

“I’m happy to help,” Linc said.

Elvis Thurgood paused, then put his hands in his pockets and
cleared his throat.

“I knew your daddy. He was a right nice guy. All he ever did
was brag about you. I never did think you were guilty.”

Linc was touched by the simple statement. “Thank you. At the
time, it felt like everybody on Rebel Ridge believed I was the devil.”

Elvis shook his head. “Not those of us who knew Marcus Fox.
Good luck to you. Watch your back.”

“That I will,” Linc said. The two men shook hands, and the
conversation ended.

Linc dropped Tildy at her house and headed home with one of her
apple pies for his trouble, but he wasn’t thinking about the past. He was
thinking about Meg and what he hoped would be their future.

As he came around a curve he saw the mail carrier pulled over
at a trio of mailboxes and remembered Meg telling him her brother James carried
the mail. To his surprise, James saw him and waved.

Linc smiled and waved back. He was still smiling when he
stopped at his own mailbox. He pulled out a large padded mailer, saw the return
address on the package and realized the transcript from the trial had finally
arrived.

He’d been in such deep mourning for his father that his
memories of the entire event were pretty vague. The only clear recollection he
had was of the jury foreman reading the verdict that had brought an immediate
end to his youth.

A few icy snowflakes fell on his windshield as he pulled up to
his place and parked. It was the perfect day to spend some time indoors.

He had the fire going and was making fresh coffee when his cell
phone rang. A quick glance at the caller ID made him frown. It was the sheriff.
So far, most of his calls had been grudging. He wondered what the hell was wrong
now.

“Hello?”

“Lincoln, this is Marlow. I need to fill you in on
something.”

“I’m listening.”

“I just got a document from a lawyer in Lexington. It’s a
notarized confession from Wesley Duggan stating that he lied about you during
your trial, and that everything he testified to was not something he had
witnessed, but that it was something he’d been told to say by the woman with
whom he’d been having an affair. He also said that he would testify in court
that he lied and take the consequences for perjury.”

Linc was stunned. “I can’t believe it.”

“That’s not all. The lawyer wrote an accompanying letter
stating that when Duggan confronted the woman, who is now his wife, she didn’t
deny it.”

Linc’s heart was pounding so hard he could barely think.
“Legally, what does this mean?”

“I’m not a lawyer, but I’d say you’re well on your way to
having a reason to reopen the case.”

“Son of a—”

Marlow sighed. “Yeah. Look. I just want you to know that I’m
willing to do my part. I’m going to go through all the reports that are on file
and see if I can find any loose ends that would point to someone else.”

“I have a starting place for you,” Linc said.

“Like what?”

“This won’t mean anything to you, because you didn’t know the
family dynamic at the time. However, Fagan White was the one who called in the
fire, and according to one of the reports I got from you, his brothers, Wendell
and Prince, were two of the first people on the scene.”

“What’s unusual about that? Their sister lived there.”

“Yes, but she wasn’t there. She had gone to a family funeral
overnight, and they knew it. See, Dad didn’t like Lucy’s brothers, and they
didn’t like him, so there is no reason they should have even been there. And
there’s something else, something I remembered after I went back to my old home
the other day.”

“What was that?”

“That evening, when I drove up at the house and saw it burning,
I was so freaked out and thinking about my dad that I didn’t have time to
process this. Then, after the explosion knocked me out, I guess I forgot about
it. But the bottom line is that when I got out of my truck that night, I heard a
dog barking all crazy in the woods right behind me. It was barking like a dog
might bark when it’s tied up and then sees something that freaks it out, you
know? Our closest neighbor was over five miles away. Hunters up here don’t let
their dogs run free, and we didn’t have any dogs.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So right after I heard the dog, I heard some man yelling at it
to ‘shut the hell up,’ and then the house exploded.”

“Are you sure that’s not something you just imagined?” Marlow
asked.

“As sure as I am that I didn’t kill my father.”

“Well, Wendell is dead, and now it appears Prince is, too, so
talking to them about it is out of the question.”

“I saw that on the news last night. Have they found the body
yet?”

“No, not yet. And you know that river. The body could wash
miles downstream before it’s found, if ever. We don’t even know for sure when
the truck went in the water, just when Fagan last saw his brother.”

“At least you still have Fagan to talk to. I don’t know if she
told you or not, but he showed up at Meg’s the other night while I was
there.”

Marlow frowned. “I didn’t know anything about that. What did he
want?”

“It was weird. He started out by apologizing for what Prince
did to her, and then he gave Meg some story about wanting to buy land from her
ex, Bobby Lewis, for years and said Lewis finally sent word that he’d sell a
part of it, but Fagan didn’t get the message, Prince did. He says Prince stepped
in and went to see Lewis in prison. Supposedly he was to ask Meg about a parcel
of land, but Fagan doesn’t know why he tormented her instead. Fagan claims that
when he found out about the message from Lewis, he went to see him, but the
warden wouldn’t let him in because Lewis was too sick.”

“But why bother Meg about this?” Marlow asked.

“It seems that the land Bobby is willing to sell is where he
buried his favorite hunting dog, and Fagan wanted Meg to tell him where that was
so he could see it before he made an offer.”

“Did she tell him?”

“No. She told him she didn’t know anything about that, and that
it must have happened after they were divorced. When he tried to push her about
it, I made my appearance. He disappeared pretty fast after that.”

“So Meg didn’t know?”

“Meg knows, but she didn’t tell him because she said Fagan was
lying about Bobby wanting to sell. She said Bobby couldn’t sell that land,
because it doesn’t belong to just him. It belongs to all the Lewis kids, so
Claude and Jane would have to agree to it, too.”

Marlow sighed. “Son of a bitch. Those people just don’t go
away, do they? I’m gonna have to find out what’s going on with them and that
land. It doesn’t even make sense that Lewis would have anything to do with them,
unless he’s making amends or something. He killed their brother, for God’s sake.
Meg’s been through enough with all of them, Bobby and the White boys both.”

“What are you going to do?” Linc asked.

“I think I’ll be paying Bobby Lewis a visit myself, just to see
what he has to say about all that. As for this letter, the lawyer says a
certified copy was sent to the district attorney, but you need one, too. I’ll
make a copy for you and drop it in the mail.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Wesley Duggan. He’s the one who spilled
the beans.”

“Yeah, I guess I should,” Linc said. “Thanks for letting me
know.”

After Marlow disconnected, Linc looked up the number of the
Ford dealership. The phone rang a couple of times, and then a young woman
answered.

“Duggan Ford Lincoln Mercury. How may I direct your call?”

“I need to speak to Wes Duggan.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Duggan is in the hospital. Can someone
else help you?”

Linc frowned. “In the hospital? What happened? Did he have a
heart attack?”

“No, sir. He was shot last night by an assailant. He’s in
intensive care.”

“At the hospital in Mount Sterling?”

“No, sir. They life-flighted him to Lexington.”

“Do they know who shot him?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What about his wife? Was she injured, too?” Linc asked.

“Mr. Duggan was staying in the motel across the street when he
was shot. We were told this morning that his wife was assaulted in her home
earlier in the evening. I think you need to speak to the police for further
information.”

Linc hung up, too shocked to think. He wanted to know the
details of what had happened to Lucy, but he knew the cops wouldn’t tell him
anything. And then he thought of Marlow and called him right back.

The sheriff answered on the third ring.

“This is Marlow.”

“I just called Mount Sterling to talk to Wes Duggan and was
told he was shot last night at the motel where he’d been staying and taken to
Lexington on a life-flight. He’s in intensive care. Lucy was supposedly
assaulted at about the same time in her home. It’s pretty suspicious to me that
he spills his guts about her and then he gets shot. I’m curious as to the
severity of her assault. Can you find out details and share?”

“I’ll make some calls and let you know.”

Linc disconnected. Talk about going from high to low in record
time. He didn’t know how this would impact Wes’s confession, or if it would even
stand up in court now without him physically present. He felt a moment of
defeat, then shook it off. He was far from done with this or with Lucy. Whether
he could prove it or not, he knew she was behind his conviction and maybe the
attack on Wes, too.

* * *

Meg felt somewhat guilty to be happy a man was dead, but
if ever a person had been wasting air, it was Prince White. At least she could
be thankful that he wouldn’t be bothering her anymore. She’d called her mother
and broken the news, then talked for almost an hour before they’d finally hung
up.

She’d been going through the items she was planning to take to
the craft show in Lexington, making sure she had everything she would need laid
out. The last thing to do would be drawing cash out of her account so she could
make change at her booth. And then her phone rang.

“Hello.”

“It’s me. Are you busy?”

She frowned at the tone of Linc’s voice. “Nothing I can’t stop.
What’s wrong?”

“Can I come over?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be right there.”