Waiting on a Cowboy, page 26
Liz dropped the gun and tried to grab her. At the last second, Liz wrapped her fingers around Kelly’s hand, sending Kelly’s legs toppling over her head until Kelly swung facing the lake.
Tate grabbed Liz’s waist before Kelly’s weight pulled her over the railing.
“Let me go!” The desperation and anguish in Kelly’s reckless words broke Liz’s heart.
“Don’t let him win,” she begged. “Hold on. I’ll pull you up.” She tried to reach down with her other hand but Kelly kicked her legs and fought to get free.
Drake suddenly appeared beside her and made a grab for Kelly, but Kelly reached up and pried Liz’s fingers away and fell.
Drake missed Kelly by half a second.
Liz, hands held out to Kelly, stared as Kelly dropped and hit the rocks and dark rushing water. “No!”
Without Kelly’s weight holding her over the railing, Tate’s weight and grip pulled her back and she fell on top of him on the bridge.
He let out a bellowing moan filled with pain and went limp beneath her. She rolled off him, saw the blood pooling under his head as his eyes rolled back and closed, and her heart stopped.
“Tate!” She held his gray face. “Tate!”
But he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. And she feared she’d lost him forever.
Drake sank down on one knee beside her and put his hand on her back. “Cops and paramedics are here. Move back so they can help him.”
She didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to hold on to him for the rest of her life.
Kelly slipped away from her. She wouldn’t let Tate do the same.
She leaned down to his ear. “Don’t you leave me, Tate McGrath. You’re supposed to marry me. You promised. And I’m holding you to it.”
Tate pressed his cheek to hers before he went limp again, giving her hope that he’d heard her.
Drake helped her move back and out of the way of the paramedics who quickly replaced the gauze pad at the back of Tate’s head. They rolled him onto a backboard and strapped him in, not wasting any time carrying him to the ambulance waiting in the parking area.
Liz barely got a chance to kiss him goodbye before they took him away.
Drake held Adria against his side. Liz sat at his feet, back against the railing and the rushing water that swallowed Kelly and took her away.
Detective Valdez squatted beside her. “You okay?”
Numb. Wishing the image of Kelly falling out of her hands didn’t replay in a loop in her mind. She didn’t know how to answer, so stayed silent on that subject and said, “I want to go to the hospital with Tate.”
“Soon. I need your statement.”
“It’s like I predicted and you probably have on video.” She glanced over at the camera that she knew about and Clint didn’t attached to a nearby tree. When she and Tate planned for what might happen while they were at the police station reporting the sex videos, she told the detective that she thought Clint would stick to habit and what worked and eventually he’d come back here.
She hated being right.
“He wanted to tie up loose ends. I have a feeling he was planning on leaving before the shit really hit the fan.”
“Officers are at his home. They confirm he had his bags packed and a plane ticket to Mexico.”
“Where his money would go further and he’d be out of your reach.”
Detective Valdez nodded. “Probably.”
She raked her fingers through her hair and held it away from her face. Elbows on knees, head down, she ran through the events with the detective who’d been just a few seconds too late to see the ending Liz hadn’t seen coming.
“Kelly worked for Clint. She was his assistant. It seems she knew everything going on in his life. She was one of his victims. Used. Abused. Manipulated. She’d endured a lot. He ordered her to take me.”
“Videos,” the detective guessed, scribbling notes on his notepad.
She nodded. “I didn’t know she had a gun. I went with her because I wanted to get Trinity back.”
“She rode in the ambulance with Tate to get the cut on her head checked out where Clint pistol-whipped her. She needs stitches and probably has a mild concussion. Nothing as severe as Tate’s.”
Her stomach pitched as the replay of Tate tumbling over Clint’s rental car replayed.
Silver lining. Trinity was all right. For a little while there, Liz thought Clint had killed her when he said he “got rid of her.”
“At first, I thought Kelly was helping Clint, but when she spoke about getting Trinity back, I wondered if she really wanted to help me.” Liz got it now.
Kelly watched Clint fall for one woman after the next, using Kelly, but never treating her the way she deserved. When all those women came forward, Aubrey died, and Clint wanted Kelly to clean up after him by dry-cleaning the shirt, then bring Liz out here to end her, too, Kelly snapped. Deep down, she had to know Clint was just using her again, and this time Kelly would pay for what Clint had done.
“He thought he could get away with everything. Rent a car. No one ties it to him for the hit-and-run attempted murder. Sweet-talk and use Kelly to take me. She kidnapped me, he didn’t. I die just like Aubrey, he blames that on Kelly, too. He kills Kelly by throwing her off the bridge. Suicide. The jealous lover kills the woman who took away the man she loved and herself.”
“But Kelly didn’t play his game.”
“He’d pushed her too far. Used her for the last time.” Liz wanted to thank her for stopping Clint from hurting her or anyone ever again. She didn’t want to understand why Kelly took her own life, but she’d seen the pain and misery in her eyes and couldn’t deny that Kelly simply couldn’t face the consequences of what Clint put her through. I’m so stupid. I fell for it every damn time. Kelly didn’t want to feel that way or be Clint’s victim anymore.
Liz would have to live with the fact she couldn’t save her. She’d tried. And right now, it felt like the biggest, worst failure of her life.
“Kelly kept the bloodstained shirt Clint wore when he killed Aubrey. It’s probably at her house.”
“I’ll send someone to check her place and their office.” Detective Valdez waved an officer over and whispered the orders before he gave Liz his attention again.
Exhausted, talked out, and too worried about Tate to care about any of this, she kept it short. “You can see the rest on the video.” She looked up at the dark sky. “If he’d waited a little longer, it’d be too dark out here for the video to capture anything.” She waved that away and tried to focus. “Kelly shot him to protect herself. And me. Then something snapped inside her. It’s like she couldn’t kill him enough.”
Liz raised her head and let it fall back against the railing post.
Drake put his hand on her head and rubbed his fingers through her hair. “You couldn’t have held on any longer. She nearly dragged you over with her.”
She appreciated the comfort Drake offered even if she couldn’t feel it right now.
“Tate saved me.” Broken ribs, a massive concussion, excruciating pain, none of that stopped him from holding on to her and pulling her back to safety. Back into his arms.
“Kelly fought her way to be free.” Liz couldn’t think of it any other way. Because you had to be desperate to escape to do what Kelly did.
Liz stared at the scrapes on her hand where Kelly pried herself free.
Adria bent beside her and wiped a tissue across Liz’s cheeks. “You tried to save her, Liz. You did everything you could to hold on to her. Like everything else, her death is Clint’s fault.”
Detective Valdez stepped closer. “Take her to the hospital. Get her checked out and back with Tate.” He crouched and put his hand on her arm. “Without you, Aubrey’s parents might not have ever known the absolute truth about her death. This will bring them closure. You knew Clint was coming. You anticipated him. You helped stop him. Without you, he’d have kept hurting people and destroying lives.” He squeezed her arm, then stood. “I’ll be in touch.”
Drake hooked his hand under her arm and helped her up. Adria took her hand as they followed an officer with a flashlight back down the trail to where Drake left his truck parked behind Kelly’s car and Clint’s rental.
“He really thought he’d get away with everything.”
Adria hugged her to her side. “He didn’t. And everything is going to be okay now.”
“Only if Tate is okay.”
Drake held the truck door open. “Declan just texted me. They’re monitoring Tate, but he’s restless even with the drugs they gave him.”
She took the back seat and pulled her cell out of her sock.
“So that’s how Tate tracked you.” Drake nodded his approval.
Liz confirmed with a nod. “Dropped the phone Clint knew about and kept the one Tate got me with a different number.” While Clint probably told Kelly to make her get rid of the phone so she couldn’t be tracked, Liz wondered if Kelly followed through so she could carry out her execution without being stopped by the cops.
Kelly went out to Lover’s Leap with her own plan, knowing she was walking to her death and determined to take Clint out first.
“Tate didn’t want to lose track of you.”
“I don’t want to lose him.” She hit the speed dial for Declan.
Drake closed the door and walked around the truck and climbed in behind the wheel next to Adria up front. He started the engine and maneuvered around all the cop cars to get them out of there.
Declan finally answered on the third ring. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Are you with Tate?”
“Yeah. He hasn’t woken up. He lost a lot of blood and there’s some swelling in his brain.”
Liz appreciated the update and honesty. “You told Drake he’s restless.”
“Yeah. I keep talking to him, letting him know I’m here, but it doesn’t seem to help for long.”
“Put the phone to his ear. Let me talk to him.”
“Good idea. Go ahead.”
“Tate, honey, it’s me Liz. You are going to be okay. I’ll be there soon. I love you so much. You rest. I’m on my way. I love you.”
Declan came back on the line. “He seems to have relaxed. You’re just what he needed.”
“If he gets restless again, remind him I’m on the way. We should be there in a half hour, maybe less.”
Drake sped up for her. She’d pay the speeding ticket. The only thing she cared about right now was getting to Tate.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Liz stared at Tate lying so still in the bed. Nurses came and went hour after hour. The doctor assured her he’d be all right. He wasn’t in a coma, just a pharmaceutically induced deep sleep. He needed rest and time.
Well, he’d had thirty-nine hours of nonstop sleep and if he didn’t open his eyes soon, she might scream.
The worry gnawing at her gut made it impossible to eat. Every thought in her head turned into a prayer for him to wake up.
She’d barely slept at all. Maybe three hours, if that. But she hadn’t left his side. She’d parked her butt in the chair, taken his hand, and refused to let go. Not until he regained consciousness.
Not until he came back to her.
The doctor backed off the sedative hours ago. At this point, she’d take one little sign that he knew she was there with him.
Then again, the last time Tate stirred, he’d set off the alarms on his heart monitor. His blood pressure spiked. The nurses rushed in and told her it was probably just a bad dream.
Tate had mumbled unintelligibly for a moment. She’d squirmed her way between the doctor and nurses tending him, pressed her forehead to his, and whispered, “I love you,” over and over again.
And just like that, he’d settled into a deep quiet sleep again.
And so she’d sat sentry at his bedside praying, Please don’t leave me. The words on repeat in her head and in her heart.
They’d finally discovered the depth of their feelings for each other. Yes, she’d always loved him. But what she felt now eclipsed that limited notion of what she’d felt growing up and being his friend. Her heart simply couldn’t take living a life without him now.
A hand settled on her shoulder. She hadn’t heard anyone come in and jumped.
“Liz, honey, you need to take a break. You haven’t left or eaten since you got here.” Her mother wanted to take care of her, but all she wanted, all she needed, was to be with Tate.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. After what you went through . . .” Emotion choked off the words.
Liz reached up and put her hand over her mother’s. “I can’t leave him.”
She brushed her fingers along his wrist. His hand lay limp on top of hers. She wanted him to feel her, to know she was there. He wasn’t alone.
“He’d want you to take care of yourself.”
“If I was in that bed, I’d want him here with me.” Tears stung her eyes. “He saved me. Without him . . .” She shook her head, unable to explain how she felt about what happened on that bridge. How even in his condition, he’d risked his life for hers.
He was hurt because of her.
A ball of regret and guilt settled in the pit of her stomach along with her unyielding worry for Tate.
Mom brushed her hand over Liz’s hair. “It’s not your fault. He doesn’t blame you for anything that happened.”
“Clint tried to kill Tate because he wanted to punish me.”
“Oh, Liz, don’t own Clint’s terrible actions.”
“Ever since Tate and I got together, it’s been one horrible thing after the next. Why the hell would he want to marry me?”
“Cuz, I. Love. You.”
Liz gasped, stood, and stared down into Tate’s barely open blue eyes, so grateful and overjoyed to see him finally awake.
Tate’s eyes scanned the room. “How long have I been here?”
“You’ve made me wait on you for going on two days.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “I thought I lost you.” Relief swamped her whole body.
“You swore you’d marry me in kindergarten. You can’t get rid of me now that we’re about to do it.” His mouth tilted into that cocky grin she loved.
She pressed her hand to his beard-stubbled cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Couldn’t get any better. You’re here.”
She held his face and pressed her cheek to his forehead. “You almost died.”
“Good thing I didn’t, because I live to be with you.” Tate adjusted his position and winced when he turned his head.
She leaned up and held his head still. “Stop moving. You’ve got sixteen stitches in the back of your head.”
He reached up, dragging the IV line with his hand, and touched the swollen lump hidden beneath a thick bandage. He stared up at her. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
“I’m fine. I promise,” she added when he looked her up and down.
His brow furrowed. “That woman killed Clint, right?”
“Yes. He’s dead.”
The tension went out of Tate. “Good.”
“They found the evidence that he killed Aubrey, along with all the videos he’d made.”
His eyes narrowed. “More of you?”
She glanced at her mom, not really wanting to discuss it in front of her.
Mom got the hint. “You know what, I think I’ll go tell your family you’re awake.” Her mom dashed out.
Tate held her gaze. “Tell me.”
She gave him the truth. “He was obsessed with me. He’d sit in his leather chair, staring at the sixty-five inch TV on the wall playing a slideshow of pictures of me. Some I knew he took. Others were candid. He recorded me without my knowledge on our dates. I thought he was checking emails or something and never really paid much attention that he kept his phone in his hand all the time.”
“So he’d just sit in the chair and watch you and . . .”
“Get off on looking at me.” The uncomfortable conversation about all this with Detective Valdez yesterday still unsettled her.
A nurse came in to check on Tate, cutting off any questions he had about the other disturbing things they’d found at Clint’s place. It wasn’t worth talking about anyway. She wanted to put the whole thing out of her mind for good.
“How are you feeling, Mr. McGrath?”
He closed and opened his eyes. “A little slow, but okay.”
The nurse checked his blood pressure and entered it into her tablet. “Probably the pain meds, but I’ll let Dr. McIntyre know. He’ll be in soon. Can I get you anything?”
Tate held Liz’s hand. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”
The nurse smiled at both of them, then headed out.
Liz propped her hip next to his on the bed and stared at their joined hands, so grateful he was awake and alive.
“It’s over, Liz. He’s dead. He got exactly what he deserved.”
“I know. It’s terrible, but I’m glad he’s gone.” She didn’t want to think about Clint or the horrid things he’d done anymore.
Tate squeezed her hand to get her out of her head. “What about that woman?”
“Kelly. His assistant at work.”
Clint used and harassed so many women, but he’d really hurt Kelly in a way that changed her. Just like he did to Aubrey. They wanted him to love them. They just didn’t see Clint wasn’t capable of love. He didn’t care about anyone but himself. They got caught up in his charm and how he’d say all the right things and dismissed the way he acted. They couldn’t reconcile the two opposing things, so they craved more of his attention and dismissed the way he hurt them.
“Did she make it?”
Her chest went tight. “I couldn’t hold on to her. She broke free and fell into the rushing water.” She brushed her fingers over the scratches on her hand.
Tate shifted his hand in hers to cover them. “I thought you were going to go over, too. My heart stopped when I saw you tip over the railing. I wasn’t sure I’d grab you in time.”
She lifted her shirt. “You held on.”
“Jeez, Liz. I’m sorry.” He brushed his fingers over the four purple bruises on her side left by his fingers digging into her body as he kept her from going over the bridge with Kelly.
