Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)(99)

"He suffered, you know. That was good. It made everything better when I saw how badly he'd been burned. Still, it wasn't enough. I could have killed him in the hospital. I wanted to, but when I saw that he was in agony, I thought death was too good for him."

"Hannah," Peggy cried, "don't say any more. You don't mean any of this."

"Yes, I do," she cried. "I mean every single word. My father was a bastard and I hated him for what he did to my mother and me. I could never have friends, bring them to the house. Every time I had a friend we moved. Dad would lose his job again or the neighbors would hear him beating on Mom. He broke my arm when I was six, you know." Her eyes narrowed. "No, you don't know because no one knew. I couldn't tell the doctors what really happened. I was supposed to have fallen down the stairs." She shook her head, her voice rising. "I made him pay for that, too. Davey helped me. He bought me the roofies and told me how to do it. He said I wouldn't get caught!"

"Hannah Russell, you have the right to remain silent," Troy said, standing. He advanced toward her slowly. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"Shut up," she screamed so loudly it hurt Bob's ears.

"Hannah, please," Peggy pleaded.

"No... not this time," she screeched. "Then Dad started talking to that shrink and he changed. He wanted to start his life over and be happy. I couldn't let him be happy, not after the hell he'd put me through. He deserved to die. I wanted him dead. Dead," she shouted. "Dead and burned and gone forever."

Troy walked over to Hannah with a pair of handcuffs and when she realized she was about to be arrested, she fell to her knees and broke into deep sobs.

Peggy moved to comfort Hannah, but Bob stopped her. Hannah had murdered her own father. All these weeks, they'd been housing the killer and not known it. Peggy turned to Bob, burying her face in his shoulder.

"It's over now," he whispered soothingly.

"Did you know?" she asked, looking up at him.

He shook his head.

Davis led a sobbing Hannah out to his patrol car. The young woman glanced over her shoulder at Peggy as if silently pleading for help. Peggy held her hand over her mouth. This was difficult for her, Bob knew, but she stood silently beside him.

Then Hannah let loose with a string of swearwords that shocked them all. Even from inside they could hear her clearly. The room went completely still after Troy had driven off.

Roy left soon afterward and only Peggy, Bob and Stewart Samuels remained.

"I'm sorry it came to this," Stewart said. "Sorry I didn't confront the past sooner and deal with these issues."

"We each buried that day as deep as we could," Bob said. "Now it's been unearthed...."

"And now maybe the two of us can get on with our lives."

For the first time since he'd returned from Vietnam, Bob felt that was possible. There would always be guilt, but perhaps he could find a way to expiate his sins.

Fifty-One

The aerobics class seemed easier this Wednesday evening, despite the sweat Grace could feel on her brow. Lunging left, then right as the loud music vibrated through the room, she followed the instructor's lead, using every ounce of energy she had.

Perhaps this surplus of vigor was due to her mood. She was still furious with Will Jefferson. She hadn't seen or heard from Cliff in a week. Once again, his faith in her had been shaken, and somehow she doubted she'd hear from him again. Will's express purpose was to destroy any possibility that Grace might find happiness with another man, but she refused to let him succeed. She didn't understand any of it—his willingness to betray his wife, his insistence on a relationship with Grace or his apparent vindictiveness at her rejection. But, dammit, she wasn't letting him ruin her chances with Cliff!

"Good luck, buster," she muttered under her breath and with a burst of energy finished the program. She hadn't come this close only to lose Cliff without a fight. If he didn't call her soon, she'd go back to sending him notes and e-mails.

"What was that you just said?" Olivia gasped as the music ended. Her reddened face glistened with sweat.

"Never mind," Grace whispered. The cool-down exercises started, her least favorite part of the workout. Grace retrieved her mat from the corner of the room, and placed it next to Olivia's. Perhaps it was her age, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do some of these stretches. Especially the one in which she had to bend one leg and cross it over the other and then turn to the side. She always seemed to be facing in the wrong direction.

"You've been in a bad mood all night," Olivia said when they'd completed the class and walked to the dressing room. "What's gotten into you?"

Grace shrugged.

"Cliff?"

She didn't answer. "Do you have time for coffee?" she asked instead.

"I can't," Olivia said regretfully. "Jack's still at work, and I know if I don't literally drag him out of that office, he'll be there half the night."

"Poor Jack."

"Poor Jack nothing. I feel like a widow! We should still be in our honeymoon phase," Olivia complained. "I wish the management would let him hire an assistant editor."

"They should," Grace agreed.