Submerged

“Of course.” The detective placed a hand over hers. “Rebecca.”

“Seems like Walter Kingston went through an awful lot of trouble just to get back the money for loans he gave Tracey and Wesley,” Marcus muttered.

“That’s why we never considered him a suspect. The guy was loaded.”

“What I can’t comprehend is why Walter would go to all this trouble to get me out of the way,” she said. “He didn’t need the money. And he had no personal reason to see me… dead.”

“There is another reason,” Detective Zur replied.

Rebecca frowned. “What?”

“This is what we’ve been able to piece together. Walter Kingston was working on a major merger deal with two very well-known eBook retailers—one from Canada, the other from the US. It would’ve been huge news, especially for the Canadian company, which Walter represented. He’d spent thousands on research, all of which would have been recouped once the merger went through. Not to mention, he’d earn a hefty sum for closing the deal.”

“But what’s that got to do with me?”

“Everything started with Wesley.”

“His gambling,” she guessed.

“Wesley had borrowed money from his father to repay his gambling debts, then incurred more debt. That’s when Tracey Whitaker went to Walter and relayed what Wesley had told her about the inheritance you received from your grandfather.”

“The kids’ money,” she corrected.

“Yes. She convinced him that, with you out of the picture, Wesley could get his hands on that money, clear his debts and repay the loans to Walter. He knew he had to do something to help Wesley because if word got out about his son’s gambling, the companies would pull out of the merger and—”

“And the Canadian company would dump Walter as their lawyer,” she finished.

Detective Zur nodded. “Exactly. Kingston would lose millions in the deal.”

“So he’s the one who hired Rufus Delaney to run me off the road.”

“Yes. And when that failed, he paid Tracey to drug you in the hospital.”

Rebecca recalled Tracey’s words. “That’s the way he wanted it, planned it. He paid that guy to run her off the road. He said I had to finish it, that we’d get the money for sure then. There was no other way I could pay back the goddamn loan.”

“At the hospital,” she said, “right before she was shot, we thought she was saying that Wesley had been her partner in crime.”

“But all along it was his father,” Marcus said.

Rebecca thought of Wesley, of her marriage, of all the lies. Her children had almost paid the price for his behavior. Never again!

“Life isn’t all sunshine and roses, is it?” Marcus said.

She shook her head. “Maybe it’s time to get a new life.” She gazed into his eyes. “Both of us.”

“Time for me to go,” the detective said. “You two can come down in the morning, and I’ll take your statements then. You both look like you’ve been through hell.”

“And back,” Marcus agreed.

“You should stop by the hospital and get checked out. You’re going to need stitches in your arm.”

“Later. Right now, John, I want to sit awhile and relax.”

Detective Zur looked at Rebecca and rolled his eyes. “He’s such a tough guy. Make sure he gets checked out. Don’t take no for an answer.”

Rebecca grinned. “I won’t. I’ll drive him there myself.”

Marcus let out a snort and she whipped around. “What? Are you suggesting I’m not a good driver?”

“Look where your last trip got you.”

“Ha ha, Mr. Big Shot.”

He smiled at her, and it lit his eyes. “I thought I was Mr. Superhero.”

“I think I’m going to regret that comment.”

“Okay, okay,” he said waving his hands in the air. “You can drive my car. I know I’ll never get any peace from you unless I go.”

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder to say something to the detective, but he was already gone. “Give me your keys,” she said to Marcus. “I promise not to drive us into a river.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Edmonton, AB – Monday, June 17, 2013 – 8:23 PM

Marcus left the hospital exam room, feeling a strange lightness in his step and a weightlessness to his body. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until he released it, slowly, evenly.

Everything had checked out. An ER doctor had ordered some X-rays on his hands and face, but she said nothing was broken. She’d patched up the cuts, stitched his arm and warned him he’d feel worse in the morning.

Great. With nothing stronger that Tylenol, tomorrow was going to be one nasty day. Except for seeing Rebecca.

He smiled and dialed her cell phone. “I’m all done.”

She’d wanted to wait with him, but he’d insisted that the long wait and subsequent tests wouldn’t be much fun, and he suggested she visit her kids. He figured her sister would take care of her for the few hours he’d be at the hospital.

“My sister wants to meet you,” she said.

“I’m not very good with families.”