I didn’t say more than I had to and I stuck to my story.
Mike backed me up, noting that I’d called him prior to arriving at Bazer’s home and that he’d come in at the end, heard enough to implicate Bazer and witnessed the shooting, that it was self-defense on my part.
Blundell ended up stalking away from us, red-faced, shaking her head.
After several hours, there were no more questions to answer. I’d held my own. There’d be follow up, but as long as Mike backed me up, I’d be fine. Because the truth was I had shot Bazer in self-defense. I knew he wouldn’t kill himself and I’d sensed as soon as I’d gotten there that he was going to give up. He wasn’t going to deny anything and he’d made a half-hearted attempt on me so I’d be justified in shooting him. Maybe it was his way of apologizing, of giving me the last word. I wasn’t sure. But I was glad that he was dead.
I glanced up at the screen.
Two minutes.
I’d gone home from Bazer’s, stripped off my clothes and stood in the shower for an hour, as if the hot water would cleanse me of everything. I knew it wouldn’t but I stayed in there until the water ran cold. I’d gotten out, toweled off and laid on the bed, closing my eyes.
Sleep was nowhere to be found.
But I’d stayed on the bed, finally breathing normally for the first time in what seemed like a decade, until it was time to get up and get to the airport.
The box next to their flight told me they’d landed and I stood from the chair, pacing back and forth, looking out the windows at the planes that were pulling in and out of Lindbergh Field. I watched the people streaming down the corridor from behind the secure area. I knew they weren’t in the group coming out, but I looked anyway. A sea of faces that weren’t familiar.
I walked away, taking a deep breath.
I was going to tell Lauren the truth. I wasn’t going to hold anything back. I didn’t know how she’d react, but I wasn’t going to keep it from her. I was going to have to tell Lasko, too, if only because he’d gotten me further than I’d have ever gotten without him. I owed him the truth and I hoped he’d understand. I wasn’t sure that he would. But then again, I wasn’t sure I understood.
I pivoted and walked back toward the bridge that connected the terminal to the gates. Another wave of people emerged, their eyes scanning the area, looking either for friends or baggage or ground transportation.
And then I saw them.
They were at the tail end of the group. Lauren was in jeans and a heavy gray sweater, her hair down, a small smile on her face, her eyes glancing at her daughter. Elizabeth wore black leggings and a white hooded sweatshirt that looked one size too big for her. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and she was smiling back at her mother.
My heart caught. For just a moment, it was like nothing had ever happened. Like Elizabeth had never been gone. Like Lauren and I had never divorced. As if they were coming back from a long weekend and I was just there to pick them up. Like I’d never missed a day.
I knew the moment was fleeting. I knew it would dissolve and we’d have to go back to dealing with the present. Life didn’t let you tie a nice little bow on things in that way.
But, for a moment, it was nice to pretend.
Lauren reached me first. She dropped her bag and hugged me.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi.”
She pulled back from me, but kept her arms around my neck, her eyes showing concern. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Fine.”
“Joe?”
“Fine,” I said, pulling away from her gently.
She let go, but her eyes stayed on me.
Elizabeth set her backpack down and we stood there awkwardly for a moment. Then she stepped forward and hugged me.
I wrapped my arms around her and shut my eyes.
“Did you run today?” she asked.
Her hair smelled like lemons and soap.
“No,” I said. “Not yet.”
“Maybe we can go tonight then?” she asked.
I held onto her, felt my heart catching again.
Like life hadn’t gone off the rails for so long.
“Sure,” I said. “Whatever you want.”
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I’d do my best to give her whatever she wanted. I wasn’t naïve enough to think we were out of the woods yet, just because she and Lauren were getting along and she’d wanted to come back to Coronado. There was still a long road in front of us.
I opened my eyes, still hugging her tightly. My vision was blurred through the tears and I looked at Lauren.
“Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked. “Your voice sounds funny.”
I laughed and kept my arms around her.
I smiled at Lauren.
“I’m fine,” I said.
THE END
AUTHOR’S NOTE
After I wrote the third book in the series, THREAD OF BETRAYAL, the number one question I received was, “Will there be a fourth book in the series???”
The obvious answer, if you’ve read this far, is yes, because you just read it.
(And, by the way – thank you. A myriad of folks turned down the first book in the series, THREAD OF HOPE, for a myriad of reasons. My wife, because she is brilliant, told me they were wrong. As usual, she was right and THREAD OF HOPE is, by far, the most widely read book I’ve ever written. So thank you for reading the books and supporting the series.)
And I assume that now, even though all of the questions asked in the first book have been answered, the number one question I’ll be receiving is, “Will there be a fifth book in the series?”
I’m happy to tell you YES.
THREAD OF FEAR will be available in December of 2014.
You can sign up for my monthly newsletter if you’d like to make sure you hear about all my upcoming releases. I promise to never use your email for any other reason or to sell it to anyone else.
And, if you’ll, keep reading, I’ve included a description and excerpt from THE MURDER PIT, the first book in a brand new humorous cozy mystery series I’ve started.
Here’s a description and excerpt from THE MURDER PIT, the first book in a brand new humorous cozy mystery series by Jeff Shelby.
THE MURDER PIT
Daisy Savage finally has everything she wants. A new husband. A bunch of kids. A charming old house.
What she doesn’t want is a dead body.
When a frozen pipe in the basement of her century-old home leads her and her husband downstairs into a newly discovered crawl space, they find a coal chute they didn’t know they had. And a corpse inside of it.
Things become complicated when Daisy realizes she knew the victim. And things get even worse when it becomes increasingly clear that the body was placed there to make Daisy look like the killer.
Against her husband’s advice and her own common sense, Daisy makes it her mission to prove to the denizens of Moose River that she is innocent. But doing so may be more dangerous than she planned.
ONE
I wanted an old house.
I did not want an old house with a dead body in it.
“Move the light a little,” Jake said.
It actually seemed more like his butt said it because at the moment, he was on his hands and knees, trying to fit into an elevated, three-and-a-half foot crawlspace that appeared to not have been entered in close to 150 years. Given that he was a little over six feet and two hundred pounds, he was…struggling.
And being stubborn.
“Why don’t you just let me get up there?” I said, trying to move the light to wherever he wanted it. “I’m half your size.”
“More to the left,” his butt said. “Because we have no idea what the hell is up here.”