Intent(87)

On my way back home from the store, my cell phone rings and the number on my caller ID instantly fills me with dread. As soon as I hang up, I call Matt and start talking before he even gives his greeting.

“Matt, I just got a call from the security monitoring service for the horse rehab center. There’s been a break-in. I’m sure it’s her. Can you meet me over there? But don’t pull the deputy at my house in case it’s a diversion.”

“Damn. You sure you’re not a detective yourself? I’ll be at the center in about ten minutes. I’m already in my car. I’ll tell dispatch to keep the deputy in place and on high alert just in case.”

The drive to the rehab center has never taken as long as it does today. I’ve looked at the clock on my dash at least a hundred times, but the time hasn’t changed. My truck feels like it’s sitting still, even though my speedometer shows I’d be considered a super speeder in Georgia if I were to get clocked by the state patrol radar.

My truck tires slide to a stop in the parking lot, and I take off in a full sprint toward the building. As I swing the door open and start to rush inside, Matt appears out of nowhere right behind me.

“Ace, you need to wait outside until I clear the building.”

“The hell I do. If she’s here, this ends today. She needs to be locked up for good.”

Once we move past the outer reception area, the light from underneath my office door illuminates part of the hallway. Matt flattens his back against the wall beside the doorknob and I move to the other side, mimicking his stance. He mouths to me not to move when he opens the door. I know he’s just doing his job, but being in the middle of this with my family in constant turmoil makes sitting on the sidelines impossible.

With his gun drawn, Matt slowly turns the knob and pushes the door open. His arms swing up, his head cocks to the side, and I immediately know he’s taking aim.

“Put the gun down!” he yells. Multiple sirens blare just outside the building indicating his backup has arrived. “Down! Now!”

“You ruined everything!” Margot screeches. “This was supposed to be a special moment between me and Ace! You aren’t supposed to be here!”

From her hysterical tone and her disturbing words, it’s painfully obvious that she’s completely out of control. The fact that she has a gun both scares the shit out of me and infuriates me. If she’d shown up at my house instead of my business, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

Matt is still blocking the door, his arms locked straight out in front of him and his aim trained on her. The exact second I swing around to look over his shoulder, he shouts, “No, Margot! Put the gun down!”

Her long, feral scream is her only answer before she pulls the trigger on herself and crumples to the floor behind my desk. Only her feet are visible, but she’s not moving at all. There’s no sound. There’s just nothing. I stagger backward until my back hits the opposite wall behind me. I’m only vaguely aware of Matt yelling into his radio. He could very well be speaking in a foreign language because it all sounds like gibberish to me.

I don’t know which is sadder. The fact that she’s dead. Or the fact the first thought I had was that it’s finally over. All the trouble, heartache, and pure hell I’ve experienced over the past few years at her hands is really over. My heart only breaks for my daughter because she will never know her biological mother. But then again, the one she calls “Mommy” has shown her more love over the course of a season than the one who gave birth to her has over her lifetime.

At some point, Matt walks me back out to the reception area, which is now the hub of operations for the officers and detectives of our town. Honestly, I never realized our county had so many cops before now, and all I can do is watch stoically as they come and go. When I hear my name called, the urgency in the tone pulls me back to reality.

“Sharp!” Justin yells at me. When I turn my head toward him, he visibly relaxes. “Damn it, Ace. You scared the shit out of me for a minute there. I’ve called your name like five times.”

“Sorry, Justin. I’m trying to process how I should feel about this versus how I actually feel about it. On top of that, I don’t know how to explain this to my little girl without traumatizing her for life when she’s old enough to understand. Hell, I’m a grown man and I don’t even understand it all.”

“First of all, your feelings are your own, and you’re allowed to have them without guilt. There’s no ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t’ in this, so get that out of your head. Secondly, I just talked to Matt and there’s something else you should know. Something that should help you sort out your feelings.”

“What?” Now he really has my attention.

“Matt found a note she left in your office. She’d planned a murder-suicide, Ace. Margot was going to shoot you first and then turn the gun on herself, so the two of you could die together in her demented happily-ever-after ending. She knew she didn’t have any other way out this time with the police looking for her. If you’d walked in there first, your wife would be having a very different conversation with your little girl right now.”

Anger fills me to the point of rage—and it’s all directed at Margot and her selfishness.

“Go home to your family, Ace. Your wife is worried sick about you, and your daughter wants to know where her daddy is. Your mom and your sister are over there with them. You have a house full of love waiting for you, buddy.”