Saving Meghan(99)

“I will,” Becky said assuredly. “You have nothing to worry about. I love you very much.”

“Mom.” Zach picked up on Meghan’s hesitation. “There’s something I should tell you.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Be … be careful.”

Zach heard the stutter and was sure Meghan had intended to say something else.

“You have my word. I have to go now. Trust Dr. Fisher. Okay? Do as he says, and everything will be all right.” Becky kissed the top of Meghan’s head. “I love you so much,” she said.

“I love you, too, Mom,” Meghan said with a quake in her voice and tears in her eyes.

Becky leaned over and kissed Zach on the cheek for a second time. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

“Becky—” Zach stopped himself because there was no changing what was about to happen.

Becky exited the car, closing the door behind her. She bent down to blow a kiss to Meghan, who blew her a kiss back. She straightened, took two, maybe three steps, and then the Camry’s trunk popped open. Zach did not have to engage the latch. A safety mechanism allowed it to be released from the inside.

As the lid went up, Detective Richard Spence uncoiled his thin frame from where he’d been hiding all along. The movement drew Becky’s attention. She glanced back at the car, focusing on Zach, noting his confusion.

Spence climbed out with his gun drawn. He shouted, “Becky Gerard, freeze, right where you are! Hands up! Hands up now!” The plan had been for Spence to use his cell phone’s GPS to keep the police informed of their whereabouts, but Becky’s jammer had required the detective to take action on his own.

Becky glanced back over her shoulder at Spence, who came at her with his gun in one hand and his police radio in the other. Zach could almost see Becky’s thoughts in motion. Should she run? Could she run? Becky stood frozen, body tense, like a sprinter waiting for the starting gun, but there’d be no running today.

Blue lights exploded from the cross street ahead of them, and more strobes arrived on the scene.

“Get down on the ground, Becky,” Spence said, aiming the gun at her chest. “Let’s not do anything stupid.”

Meghan fled from the car, screaming. “Mom! Mom!”

Zach got out as well. The blue lights were closing in fast.

Becky shot Zach a look so hard, it could have broken a bone. “You lied,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “You son of a bitch, you lied.”

“I’m so sorry,” Zach said. “I had to do it, for Meghan.”

Meghan ran to her mother as the blue lights closed in.

Spence kept his gun on them both. “Meghan, move away from your mom,” he commanded. “We will take care of her and you. Okay? She’s going to be safe. But you have to move away.”

Meghan would not let go. She held on to Becky as if she were a life raft in the ocean. “Leave us alone!” she screamed. “Just leave us alone.”

Zach came forward. “Becky, don’t make this worse,” he said.

She looked at Zach again as half a dozen police cars screeched to a stop. A moment later, the street was full of police. The night burst with color.

Becky’s shoulders slumped. She pushed Meghan gently away. “It’s okay, baby,” she said. “It’s all okay.”

She raised her hands above her head in a show of surrender. The police closed in.

Meghan sank to her knees on the hard pavement, her body racked with anguish. Her hands covered her sobs.

Zach stayed close to the Camry as Spence approached.

“I have to handcuff you now,” he said to Becky, his voice gentle, compassionate even.

Zach watched Becky get crammed into a police car as two other officers escorted Meghan to an ambulance that had arrived on the scene.

Zach crossed the street to the car where Becky sat with her head slumped forward. A police officer near the cruiser kept him back several feet. “I’m going to look after her,” Zach said in a loud voice so Becky could hear. “I promise we’ll resume the mito treatment. That was the deal I made with Spence and Singer.”

Becky lifted her head, turning to face Zach, and strangely enough, she looked relieved.





CHAPTER 48





BECKY


In the same Boston courthouse where Judge Trainer had sided with Kelly London, a court officer, as big and intimidating as a professional wrestler, directed Becky to a microphone at the front of the courtroom. Standing before a silver-haired judge who sat high up on his bench, Becky felt her legs shake slightly.

She was dressed in street clothes, not the prisoner’s attire she had had to wear for the past two days. Friday, she’d found out, was an inopportune time to get arrested, as courts did not conduct arraignments over the weekends. The delay did give her time to make arrangements, including hiring Andrea Leers as her defense attorney, who had dropped the custody case so that she could represent Becky for the criminal charges. It also gave Becky a chance to relive the trauma of her arrest, to hear Meghan’s cries echo in her ears, and let her anger over Zach’s betrayal simmer like a toxic stew.

As for jail, it was as horrible, dehumanizing, and terrifying an experience as she had imagined it would be. It was Meghan’s psych ward all over again, only with gray cement walls, worse smells, more screaming, and a host of hardened female prisoners who took to calling her Blondie. She was propositioned, offered drugs, and threatened with violence. Becky kept to herself as much as she could, leaving her cell only to eat. The rest of the time she spent waiting until Monday.