Submerged

With caution, she slowly opened one eye. She didn’t see anyone at first. She was about to open both eyes, when a voice whispered, “Keep your eyes closed.” It was a woman’s voice and not one she recognized.

Footsteps approached the bed, and Rebecca tamped down the lurching of her heart. A shiver ran down her body.

“Stay calm,” the voice in her ear said.

What the heck? Why would a killer tell her to stay calm? And how would they know she was conscious? It didn’t make sense.

The person standing by her bed leaned over her. Rebecca could tell because the dim light she sensed behind her closed lids became darker.

“I’m sorry, Rebecca,” a second voice said.

That voice she recognized.

Chapter Forty-One

Hinton, AB – Sunday, June 16, 2013 – 11:08 PM

Marcus took the stairs down to the first floor and walked past the cafeteria on the way to the ER. As he moved toward the exterior doors, he noticed a man standing near the elevator, arguing with a police officer.

Marcus frowned. What the hell is Wesley Kingston doing here?

“I want to see my wife for a few minutes,” Kingston was saying to the officer.

“Sorry, sir, but Detective Zur wants you to stay here. He’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Problem?” Marcus showed the officer his ID. “Marcus Taylor, 911.” He was sure by now all the officers on duty would know he had clearance. “Detective Zur can vouch for me.”

“Already has,” the officer said. “Mr. Kingston is insisting on seeing his wife.”

Marcus turned to Rebecca’s husband. “Wesley, your wife’s in ICU.”

“I know. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s unconscious.”

The man flinched, and a small part of Marcus took pleasure in Kingston’s pain.

“They’re doing everything they can for her,” Marcus said. “Let’s go grab a coffee.”

“Tracey is getting me one. And some dinner. I would’ve joined her in the cafeteria except I was detained.” He glared at the officer. “By this man. He even searched me like I was some common criminal or something.”

The officer shrugged. “I’m following orders.”

“Let’s sit down somewhere,” Marcus said with a sigh.

As much as he didn’t want Kingston’s company, it appeared he wouldn’t be able to escape it. Someone had to calm the man down. He could blow everything.

“I’m sure you want the best for your wife, so trust me when I say she’ll be fine.”

“But the news said she’d had a relapse. She was supposed to be released today.”

“These things happen. They’re taking good care of her.” Marcus took a deep breath. “You see anyone else around the hospital that you know?”

Kingston shook his head. “It’s like a morgue around here. Dead quiet.”

The guy was oblivious to how inappropriate his comment was, considering where they were.

“You’re probably wondering why I even care, seeing as Becca and I are getting a divorce.”

Marcus shrugged. “Not my business.”

Wesley Kingston stared at the floor. “I made a lot of mistakes. Too many to count. But there are two things I got right—Colton and Ella. I’m not a deadbeat dad. I love my kids. And no matter what Becca and I become, friends or foe, that’ll never change.”

“The police think you hired the guy that ran your wife’s car off the road.”

“I would never do such a thing. Besides, how could I hire someone? I haven’t got that kind of money?”

“What kind?”

“Whatever it takes to hire someone.” Kingston gazed into his eyes. “I swear to you, Mr. Taylor, I had nothing to do with this. I don’t hate Rebecca like that. I’m moving on. I have a fiancée, and I’m cutting back on the gambling. We’re not rich by anyone’s standards. But eventually I’ll get a better job, and until I do, Tracey’s income from the old folks’ home is enough to survive on.”

“So you don’t owe anyone money?”

“You mean like the casinos?” Kingston shook his head. “Like I told the detective, I had a few small debts, but those were paid off last week.”

“From the money Rebecca had saved.”

“No, Tracey got a loan.”

Marcus saw Zur approaching. He stood. “I have to go, Mr. Kingston. Your date has arrived.”

Wesley Kingston greeted the detective with a glum sigh. “How’s Rebecca?”

Zur flicked a look at Marcus. “She’s still unconscious. I’ll take you up to see her in a while. First, I have few more questions.”

With his jacket tucked over one arm, Marcus left them to talk and stepped through the emergency doors and out onto the sidewalk. The night air was invigorating, and he inhaled it as though it might be his last breath. After a minute or two, a chill seeped through the thin dress shirt he wore. He shivered.

He was about to put on his jacket when a rectangular piece of paper fell from the pocket and wafted across the parking lot. His initial reaction was to ignore it. It was probably a receipt. But something made him rush after the paper. He grabbed it before it blew into the bushes.

It was the photo he’d taken from Rebecca’s house.