Huck stood in his crate and barked as we entered. Just seeing him made my chest ache. It would have killed her to leave him behind, and I could have spared her the pain.
“How’d she get him here?”
“I helped.” Con pulled open a desk drawer and produced an envelope. “She left this for you.” I ripped it from his hand. “Feel free to hang out while you read it. If you still have any questions after … well, I’ll tell you what I know.” He headed for the door.
Dropping to my knees beside Huck, I tore open the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of paper with my name scrawled at the top. I devoured her words.
SIMON,
I DON’T DESERVE YOUR FORGIVENESS, AND I WON’T ASK FOR IT. I’M SURE YOU SEE NOW THAT BEING WITH ME WOULD HAVE DESTROYED ANY CHANCE OF THE FUTURE YOU’VE PLANNED. I HOPE I DIDN’T DESTROY IT ANYWAY. THAT WOULD BE EVEN MORE UNFORGIVABLE.
BELIEVE IT OR NOT, I TRIED TO TELL AS FEW LIES AS POSSIBLE. STILL, THERE WERE TOO MANY TO COUNT. BUT MY FEELINGS FOR YOU WERE PROBABLY THE MOST HONEST THING IN MY LIFE. I MIGHT NOT HAVE ANY RIGHT TO YOUR LOVE, AND IT MIGHT BE STOLEN, BUT IT’S MINE AND IT’S PRECIOUS AND YOU CAN’T HAVE IT BACK. CONSIDERING I’M LEAVING MY HEART WITH YOU, I’M CALLING IT A FAIR TRADE.
YOURS,
CHARLIE
I dropped my head against the metal bars of Huck’s crate, grateful I was already on my knees. The words were unapologetically Charlie. After reading it three more times, I pushed to my feet and turned to the door. Con was standing there, watching me. I should have hated him seeing my lowest moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Every thought and emotion was focused on Charlie. Finding her. Bringing her back to me.
“Where is she?” I would beg if I had to. And if that didn’t work, I’d beat it out of him.
“She went to make things right.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s what she said when she tossed a backpack into my Tahoe and handed me that letter. I assumed she meant she was going back to New York to turn herself over to the FBI.”
A solid chunk of ice formed in my gut. “And you let her go?”
“Didn’t have a choice. You ever try to stop that woman from doing anything?”
He had a point. I looked at my watch. It was just past one o’clock in the morning. I could get a flight out first thing tomorrow. Or maybe I could charter a private plane and get there sooner…
Con interrupted my thoughts. “Taking a wild guess, but you’re thinking about how fast you can get to New York.”
I met his stare. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Sure, I’d want to. But what are you really going to be able to do for her? Hold her hand while they slide the cuffs on? You’d be better served sending her a lawyer than going yourself.”
Again, he had a point. But I could do both. I wasn’t letting her face this by herself. No way in hell.
Then Delilah popped her head around the corner and added her two cents. “I think it’s all very white knight of you to want to go rescue her, but did you ever think that maybe this is something she needs to do herself? I mean, you didn’t see her when she left. Charlie was determined. She’s nobody’s fool, and she doesn’t need anyone holding her purse while she tells the FBI to go to hell.”
“I don’t care if all I do is stand behind her so she knows she’s not alone in this anymore. I’m going.”
Con smirked. “Yeah, you just might do, Duchesne.”
I threw random shit into my overnight bag and checked my watch. It’d been four hours since I’d last seen Charlie, and it was still four hours until my flight. I’d be in New York by nine.
I didn’t care how long I’d have to cool my heels on a bench in front of the FBI field office; I’d be there when she showed up. And then I’d talk some fucking sense into her. She wasn’t going within fifty yards of the FBI without a shark of a lawyer at her side and me at her back.
My cell buzzed from its perch on the nightstand. I lunged for it, hoping it was Charlie.
I looked down at the screen as I answered. Mom?
I tensed. A phone call at three AM from my mother couldn’t mean anything good.
“Mom? Is everything okay?”
It was my father’s voice that replied. “I need you to come to the house.”
I ran for the stairs.
“What happened?”
There was no answer. He’d already hung up.
I slammed out the door and raced across the lawn. I heard sirens wailing in the distance. They were growing louder and louder.
Oh fuck.
I ripped open the front door and sprinted up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom.
My dad was holding my mother against his chest, tears running down his face. He was speaking softly to her unconscious form.
“Maggie, please. You’ve got to wake up, my love.” They were the pleas of a desperate man.
I dropped to my knees beside the bed.
“What happened?”
“I don't know. She woke me up. Her face looked funny. Then she passed out. I think … I think it was a stroke. I called 911. And then you.” The words tumbled disjointedly from his lips.
He rocked my mother’s still body in his arms. “Maggie … please.”
The sirens blared from the street. I didn’t want to leave them, but I knew someone had to let the paramedics in.
“I’ll be right back. With help.”
I clung to the railing as I stumbled down the stairs. The thick, jasmine-scented night air clogged my lungs. I focused on the flashing red and white lights. I opened the gate and gripped the wrought iron with both hands as the ambulance surged up to the front of the house. I pulled myself together, knowing I needed to be my father’s strength. I’d never seen him look so lost and broken.