Submerged

He wandered around the bedroom, taking in a small display of photos that sat atop a photo album. He picked up one photo. Rebecca and Wesley, arms wrapped around each other. It had been taken at Disneyland, pre-kids. They’d been happy. Once.

He moved the other framed pictures and picked up the hefty photo album. A voice in the back of his head suggested he shouldn’t, that he was now being plain nosy, but he ignored the voice. Flipping through the pages, he saw Rebecca’s life flash before him. Photos from when she and Wesley had started dating. Wedding pictures. The births of Colton and Ella. Various parties and events she’d attended with her husband.

He studied one of the party photos. Rebecca looked so happy. She was staring at Wesley with such pride. A crowd of people had gathered around them. Some were patting Wesley on the back.

Marcus’s gaze swept across the faces in the crowd. What had Wesley Kingston done to warrant such attention and approval?

A silver-haired man in an expensive suit stood a few feet away from the happy couple. His expression wasn’t one of admiration but of contempt. One of Wesley’s debtors? The guy looked vaguely familiar.

Marcus peeled back the clear cover and pried the photo from the page.

On the back, someone had written, “Summer party at Kingston, Bentley and Coombs. Gave Wesley’s dad the news about Ella.”

Ah-ha! Walter Eugene Kingston, the famed corporate lawyer.

That’s who the older fellow was. Wesley’s father. The man had his hand in all things mega-corporate. From the look on his face in the photo, he wasn’t happy about something.

If looks could kill…

Could it be that Daddy Kingston wanted Rebecca out of the picture for some reason? If so, what would be in it for him?

He slipped the photo into his pocket. He’d give it to John later.

His phone rang. When he answered it, he said, “Your ears burning, John?”

“I hope you’re saying good things about me,” Zur said.

“Thinking them actually. So what’s up?”

“We found the truck and the driver.”

Marcus’s heart raced. “You’ve got him in custody?”

“Not yet.” Zur cleared his throat. “Guy’s name is Rufus Delaney. Lots of priors and three outstanding warrants. Robbery, attempted rape and second-degree murder. Not the kind of guy you’d want your daughter dating.”

“Or anyone else I knew.”

“A patrol car brought in one of his known associates on another charge about five minutes ago. Guy cut a deal and gave up Delaney. Puts him at the Rosedale Hotel in downtown Edmonton. Edmonton Police are searching his room now. We’ve sent photos out to everyone at the hospital. Delaney won’t get within two feet of Rebecca’s room. I’ll let you know when we find him. And if we figure out who hired him. Whoever did probably knows what Delaney is capable of.”

Rape and murder. That could have been Rebecca’s future.

Thank God Delaney had decided to run her off the road instead.

Marcus went downstairs to the kitchen and found a plastic bag. Stuffing the clothing into it, he left the house, waved at the officer outside and hurried to his car. With Delaney on the loose, Marcus wanted nothing more than to be back at the hospital. He stepped on the gas pedal and sped off, praying he wouldn’t get pulled over for speeding.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hinton, AB – Saturday, June 15, 2013 – 5:19 PM

When Kelly arrived at the hospital, Rebecca broke down in huge gulping sobs. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Can I hug you?” her sister asked, tears leaking from her eyes.

“You’d better.”

Kelly wrapped her arms around her, ever so gently. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. I’m stronger than I look.”

Kelly arched a brow.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Rebecca explained. “That I’m stronger than I look.”

“And here you are, crying like a big wussy baby.”

“Yup. That’s me.”

Kelly’s smile faded. “Seriously, Rebecca, you almost died. You and the kids.”

“But we’re all safe now.”

“Thanks to that 911 operator.”

Rebecca grinned. “Marcus was pretty fantabulous.”

Kelly studied her face as if looking for some sign of insanity. “So what is this guy—sixty-five and bald?”

Rebecca gave her a wry look. “Uh, no.”

“So he’s seventy and bald?”

“I doubt he’s much older than me. And he’s not bald.”

“You kinda like him,” Kelly said in a singsong voice. “You think he’s sexy.”

“Oh, stop it.”

Kelly perched on the edge of the bed. “You’ll be happy to know Steve’s mom has kidnapped my kids. So Ella and Colton won’t be exposed to measles.”

Rebecca snorted. “You make it sound like the plague.”

“I swear it is. Between the crying, scratching, puking, picking, bathing and whining, I haven’t had a second to brush my hair, much less pee by myself. You were lucky, Sis. Neither Colton nor Ella ever had measles.”

“No. They had Wesley.”

Kelly pursed her lips. “He’s quite the bastard.”

“And then some.”