Off You Go Page 6

  And as it all came crashing down, he’d dug the hole deeper, lying to Faye. He had to tell her now. He just didn’t know how. She’d put up with him for so many years, but this would be the last straw. She would probably leave him. But he couldn’t live this lie forever. He couldn’t climb in bed next to his best friend for the next twenty years keeping such a secret. She needed to know what he knew. She needed to know why Gina killed herself.

  The sound of the door opening in the living room brought him back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. How had it gotten to this?

  He met Faye in the hallway and she opened up her arms. “Oh, honey, come here.” She could always read his face. They embraced and he squeezed her tightly. How lucky he was. Somehow, she’d put up with him for thirty-eight years. She was the only one who had ever seen his human side. The only one who had ever seen him cry.

  “I need to talk to you,” he whispered, still holding her.

  “Hold on. You need to know something.” She pulled away from him. “I did something around your back and I’m sorry for it, but I had to. I hired a private investigator to look into Gina’s death.” She looked up at him. “Please don’t be mad at me. I know you wanted me to let it go, but I couldn’t.”

  Hammond’s stomach tightened. He remembered the conversation they’d had, when he had played it down, saying she needed to quit asking questions and let Gina go. He’d said it so she wouldn’t end up finding out the truth and destroying everything. So how could he be mad at her now?

  He took her hand. “I’m not mad.”

  “I found out who she was seeing, and you’re not going to believe it…but I’m nearly positive.”

  “Who?” Hammond knew exactly what was coming.

  “Your scum of the earth protégé, Rowe.”

  Hammond had already decided he wasn’t going to lie about it, but this wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Faye continued, “Rowe Tinsley was having sex with our daughter and he got her pregnant.”

  “What?” Hammond felt his heart jolt.

  “She was pregnant. My PI found a positive pregnancy test with her prints on it. Your good-for-nothing protégé, the one you talk so highly of, is the devil.”

  Hammond was still trying to swallow this pregnancy news. Rowe hadn’t mentioned that. What? The little shit thought he’d never find out?

  “I want to know what you’re going to do about it,” Faye said. “You need to ruin his life.”

  “I—I already knew, Faye.” It was the hardest confession he’d ever made.

  “You what?”

  Hammond knew the rest of his crumbling life was about to go right now. “I knew they were together.”

  Faye stiffened up and slapped him for the first time in their marriage. “You knew?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to tell you, honey, believe me. But—”

  “But what? You let it go on? What are you talking about?”

  She started crying and he tried to comfort her. “You get off me,” she snapped.

  “I didn’t let it go on. I was on him the second I found out.”

  “And how did you find out? When was that?”

  “I found out the day before she…the day before. I didn’t want to tell you how. It doesn’t matter how I found out. Please trust me—”

  “Trust you? Hammond, you’re telling me you knew our daughter was sleeping with Rowe and you didn’t tell me that little bit of information?” Her tears were moving non-stop. “Oh, my God.”

  “I didn’t know she was pregnant. The minute I found out about them, I confronted him. That was Friday. I told him to end it.”

  “And decided to hide it from me.”

  “Yes. I guess I did. I didn’t want you to feel any more pain. I was protecting you.”

  “Oh, you son of a bitch. You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting your investment. Bird’s Bay is what you were protecting. I’ve known you most of your life, Hammond Callahan. Don’t even try to lie about that. You knew if word got out that Rowe was having an affair with your daughter, you would have lost investors. It was a simple as that, wasn’t it?”

  “That was part of it, of course. But the Bird’s Bay deal is for both us. That’s our retirement. It’s the last deal I’ll ever have to make. Do you really blame me for hiding it?”

  “Yes, I blame you. I blame you for lying to me. I blame you for being such a shitty father that you’d drive her to pay you back by sleeping with Rowe. I blame you for her death.”

  “You don’t mean that.” Hammond felt broken.

  Faye fell to her knees. “You killed my baby.”

  Hammond knelt and tried to put his arm around her.

  “No! No!” She swatted at him as he covered his head. “Don’t ever touch me again. You’re an evil, selfish bastard!”

  “I’m so sorry, honey. Please try to understand.”

  “I want a divorce.”

  “Hey, you’re upset. Let’s just calm down and talk about this.”

  Faye pushed herself up. “Never contact me again. You understand?”

  “Faye, please.”

  “A lawyer will contact you.”

  This couldn’t be happening. Hammond didn’t know what to say. He choked up and began crying, begging for her forgiveness. He was crying her name even after she’d closed the door and left.

  Hammond got up and stumbled into the living room. It was too much for him. Enraged, he lifted a floor lamp, yanked its cord from the wall, and began swinging it at anything and everything. He knocked several holes in the wall and then went after the television, crushing the screen. He kept going until he had nothing left.

  Faye was right. He was a selfish bastard. But he could not agree that Gina’s death was his fault. If anyone was to blame, it was Rowe Tinsley. He’d taken advantage of his precious girl. He’d gotten her pregnant.

  It was all Hammond could do to swallow the news of their relationship. But he’d had to, in order to keep the Bird’s Bay deal alive. Now, though, with Gina gone forever and Faye not much closer, the Bird’s Bay thing didn’t make a damn difference. The only thing that mattered was making sure Rowe Tinsley paid for what he’d done.

  Hammond had nothing left.

  10

  Dewey found a spot on Broad Street a block away from Brightside Development. A man sitting on a cooler was selling boiled peanuts on the sidewalk. Dewey bought a bag and found a bench to sit and enjoy them. He could shell a peanut faster than anyone he knew, and as he ripped through the bag, he mulled over what the heck he was going to do once he saw Rowe Tinsley. He wasn’t going to beat the truth out of him, obviously. He wasn’t going to accuse him publicly. He needed to get in, shake his hand, make sure the man was comfortable, and then blindside him to see how he reacted. That would be a start, and then Dewey could find proof from there.

  He polished off half the bag and made way to his destination. As he was pushing open the door, his phone rang. He backed up and answered. “You got Dewey.”

  “Hey, it’s Candice. Did you get my text?”

  “Yes, thanks for letting me know.”

  “You wouldn’t believe what just happened. I’m shaking.”

  Dewey perked up and turned around, heading back down the block toward the bench. “What?”

  “Mrs. Callahan showed up about twenty minutes ago, and they got into it.”

  Dewey parked himself back on the bench, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder. “Oh, no.”

  “I could hear all of it,” Candice said. “They probably don’t know that the wall between Gina’s bedroom and my bathroom is paper-thin. Gina and I joked about it a couple times. We could have a conversation with each other without raising our voices. I feel awful, but I couldn’t help myself. I sat in the bathroom and listened to everything.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “I’d say so.” Candice told Dewey what she’d heard.

  Before she was done, Dewey was already jogging back to Brig
htside Development. “Is Hammond still there?” he asked her.

  “No, he left five minutes ago.”

  “You’re a big help. You have no idea.”

  “I thought you’d find it interesting. Now, what do I get in return? Dinner at the very least, right?”

  “I’m flattered,” he said, “but I’m married. Can I get a rain check for the next life?” Even as he said that, though, he knew he’d still be in love with his wife in the next. And the next. And the next after that.

  “The next life it is. I hope we both come back as rabbits.”

  Dewey’s eyes exploded. Women in their thirties sure were randy. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks for the help.”

  “You know where to find me.”

  “Yes, I do.” He hung up and jammed the phone into his pocket. “Yes, I do,” he said to himself. “But I don’t want you. I want my wife.”

  Dewey entered Brightside Development, and a cheery, bright-eyed brunette welcomed him. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “I’m looking for Rowe Tinsley.”

  “You missed him by about an hour. He was going out into the field and wasn’t planning on coming home. Can I leave a message? Are you working with him?”

  “No, no. Just an old friend. Do you have his cell number?”

  “Sure.” She wrote it on a yellow sticky note and handed it to him. He thanked her and went on his way.

  Back in his truck, Dewey dialed Rowe. He got his voice mail. Despite feeling like kicking the guy in the teeth, he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. He didn’t leave a message, thinking it would be better to tell him in person. Then Dewey dialed Faye. She didn’t pick up, either. “I guess I’ll go to Rowe’s house,” Dewey said. “Not sure what else I can do.”

  The Old Village of Mt. Pleasant tucked up against the harbor, and you could find some of the prettiest homes in Charleston there. It was an older neighborhood, with most of the houses built in the 1950s. Many of them had the same floor plans. As the property value rose, people began to tear down and rebuild, creating some appealing diversity.

  The Charleston Harbor came into view as Dewey worked his way through the increasingly quieter streets. He hung a left onto Pitt Street and after a couple more turns, reached the Tinsley’s waterfront address. It was a home that all parents wish they could raise their kids in. The rectangular yard was obnoxiously big for such desired real estate. Looking at it from the road, the house was on the right side of the property and the green lawn stretched out on the left, along the harbor. There was a ring of chairs circling a fire pit near the water, and Dewey was sure there was a nice, big porch on the other side of the house. Rowe Tinsley drank his coffee in the morning overlooking Fort Sumter, where the Civil War began. Oh, what greed could get you.

  The house was actually one of the older brick ones, but it looked like it had been added onto a time or two since its groundbreaking in the fifties. The front door was turquoise, a nice touch.

  There was a Mercedes SUV and Rowe’s Jaguar in the U-shaped driveway. Rowe was home. Dewey continued to the end of the cul-de-sac and turned around. He stopped two houses away and got out, looking like he was admiring the view of the water. He lit a smoke and took it all in.

  Coming from a place of non-judgment, Dewey wondered what kind of man Rowe Tinsley was. What had led him to cheat on his wife? Was he a bad person? A selfish one? Did he not love his wife? Did he not love his boys? Did he have an addiction to sex? He certainly had a hankering for some kinky stuff. Or was it something totally out of his control? What if his wife didn’t love him? Perhaps she wasn’t faithful, either. This job had trained Dewey to look at both sides of the story.

  In Dewey’s own marriage, Erica had done nothing but her best every day. She had supported him and lifted him up and believed in him from the day they met. She’d been faithful, too, even when he hadn’t deserved it.

  Still, Dewey found little pity for Rowe Tinsley, and not just because he’d attacked him and nearly killed him. He had no pity for Rowe, just like he had no pity for himself. Rowe had made the decisions that had led to this day. Dewey had no idea what was going to happen, but he had a pretty good feeling that Rowe Tinsley was about to have a bad night. The worst in his life.

  Dewey heard some shouting and saw two boys run out into the backyard. Rowe Tinsley followed with a football in his hand, his arm cocked back as he encouraged his boys to run a route. Dewey watched them play for a while. Maybe he had a little pity for the man. Seeing a family broken apart was not something he would ever relish.

  As Dewey stubbed out the butt, ripped the filter off, and stuck it in his pocket, he saw Hammond Callahan’s Cadillac pull onto the street.

  “This is not good,” Dewey said to himself. “I was really hoping you weren’t going to show up.”

  Dewey got back into his truck but didn’t start the engine. Hammond parked behind the other expensive cars in the Tinsley driveway and knocked on the door. Rowe’s wife answered. He kissed her on the cheek and followed her inside.

  “Surely you wouldn’t do anything with his family there, would you?” Dewey contemplated calling the police but decided against it. He wasn’t sure what his role should be, but calling the police would only exacerbate the situation.

  It went bad quickly.

  Hammond entered the backyard and one of the boys threw him the football. He dropped it to the ground and pointed back toward the house. The boys went back inside, and Rowe and Hammond walked up to the water. An argument ensued and within two minutes, Hammond drew a gun.

  Dewey jumped out of his truck and started running toward the front of the house. Hammond had the gun pointed at Rowe’s chest. Dewey placed a call to 911 as he tried to decide what to do. He wasn’t the kind to carry a gun, so he didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. The operator wanted him to stay on the line, but Dewey hung up.

  As he reached the side of the house, staying low and taking cover, he could hear what they were saying. “My family is inside!” Rowe screamed. “Are you crazy?”

  “What does it look like?” Hammond roared back. “You made me crazy. You took both my girls away from me. Both of them.” His voice was cracked and depleted. “You got her pregnant. What kind of man are you? You killed my grandchild, too. My only one.”

  “You’re no saint, you bastard. It happened. I didn’t know all this would happen. Gina wanted me to leave my wife and marry her! She wanted me to help her raise the child. I told her I would help with the kid somehow, but I wasn’t going to leave my wife. Don’t tell me you’ve never ran around before.”

  “Not once in my life.” Hammond looked very trigger-happy.

  Wondering why the hell he was putting himself in danger, Dewey came around the corner and faced the two men.

  “Hammond,” Dewey said, the police are on the way. Drop the gun.” How funny—sadistically speaking—to ask a man to drop his gun when the only weapon you have is your words.

  Hammond swung the gun around. “Who the hell are you?”

  “My name is Dewey Moses. Your wife hired me. I know she left you, but you can’t do this. You will always have a second chance…unless you do this. Then it all goes away. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

  “You stay out of my life.”

  “I’m trying to help.” Dewey decided that, even if the theory he’d been building in his head wasn’t true, it was a good time to at least toss it out. Lies save lives sometimes.

  Dewey said, “Your daughter is a—”

  Right then, Rowe made a move. Hammond still had his gun pointed in Dewey’s direction, but he sensed Rowe’s movement and brought the gun back around and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, but the bullet went too far right.

  Dewey started running at the two men, both inches higher and many pounds heavier. Rowe’s wife came out, screaming for everyone to stop.

  Rowe tackled Hammond and the gun fell off to the side. Dewey jumped into the fray, going for Hammond, too. What Rowe and Dewey encountered in Hammond was a
mixture of old-man strength and the power of anger. It was like wrestling something superhuman.

  Rowe and Dewey worked together to pin Hammond down, but he threw several heavy elbows and kicks and pushed them off. Then he rolled in the direction of the gun and was able to get his hand on it. Lying on his back, Hammond aimed at Rowe, who put his hands in the air.

  He fired. Rowe’s right shoulder jerked backwards as he grunted in pain.

  Dewey wasn’t done, though. He might have been small and inexperienced in combat, but he could be scrappy if he was forced to. He darted toward Hammond and kicked the gun with everything he had, and it went flying into the marsh with a splash. Hammond grabbed Dewey’s leg and pulled him down. As he fell, Dewey threw a fist into Hammond’s crotch that made him wail out in pain.

  Dewey pushed himself up and stood over Hammond. “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted, was that I think your daughter is still alive.”

  Hammond let go of his midsection and looked up. “What? How do you know?”

  Dewey heard cop cars pulling up. He said, “I’ll have her come visit you in jail.”

  Hammond started crying.

  Police officers swarmed the backyard, ordering the three men to the ground. Well, two of them already were. Dewey dropped onto his stomach close to Rowe. As an officer jumped on top of him and began to cuff him, he locked eyes with Rowe. “I want my camera and my license back.”

  Rowe stared blankly at him as a medic tried to stop the bleeding. “Is she really alive?”

  Dewey wanted to say something heartless and cruel, but through Rowe’s facial expression and the tone of his voice, Dewey could tell that he did care about Gina. So instead, he said, “There’s a chance.”

  The officer jerked Dewey up by the arm and walked him to the police cruiser.

  11

  After the fight with Hammond and Rowe, Dewey hadn’t been able to leave the Tinsley residence until 9 p.m. Luckily, T.A. Reddick had shown up and talked the police out of taking him in. Back at home, Dewey finally went through the e-mail packet Ashton had sent him on Rowe Tinsley. The Tinsleys had a second home in Beaufort, which made sense. One thing that kept bothering Dewey about an affair in Beaufort was its proximity to Charleston. Sure, it’s a different town, but there’s a chance you’ll run into someone you know. It was too close. But not if it’s at your vacation home. It’s more private.