44

 

Still invigorated from his talk with Bill the day before, Mark called Beth and made evening plans. He’d take her to dinner and a movie then get coffee and stop by the lighthouse. She seemed to like the place. Maybe that’d be the best location to break the news to her.

He picked her up around six thirty. They went to the Chinese buffet at the mall.

Beth finished a bite of her sesame chicken. “You can relax and not worry about Antonio riding into town on a white horse and trying to woo me away.”

Mark folded his arms. “Oh, really. Why’s that?”

“Apparently, he eloped with his high school sweetheart and moved to Oregon.”

“Interesting.” Maybe Antonio felt motivated by fear of losing the woman he loved. As long as that woman wasn’t Beth, good for him.

After dinner, the two of them headed toward Riversdale Cinemas. Mark remembered he needed to stop by Fishy Business and make sure the back door was locked. It’d take him a moment, and they’d be on their way to the movies. He might even have time to grab a soda. His mouth remained on fire from the Kung Pao he’d eaten.

“Whose cars are those?” Beth pointed to a green vehicle with someone inside, parked at the far end of the lot next to two other cars, one yellow, one red.

“Probably from Fan Fare next door. They don’t have much parking, so some of their patrons park here. As long as they’re not causing problems, I don’t care.” Another reason to check the lock. He and Beth ambled to the door, and he checked the knob—just as it should be. Using his key, he let them inside then walked to the cooler and retrieved a soft drink. “Do you want something to drink?”

Beth nodded then chuckled.

“Care to tell me what’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about the day we ran into each other. About how I had car trouble, and you came out and offered me a soda.”

A knock sounded, and Mark shifted his gaze toward a man looking at him through the windowpane at the top of the door. “Randy?”

“I thought he didn’t work here anymore,” Beth said. “And why’s he wearing…gloves?”

Mark set down his drink and opened the door. “What are you doing here so late?”

Eyebrows arched, the man’s gaze pierced Mark. “I could ask you the same question.”

“Huh? Look, I don’t think we need anything refilled right now, but thanks.”

“I’m not here to refill things. Came here to find out more. And imagine my good fortune running into the two of you.” Randy removed a notebook from behind his back and waved it in front of Mark. “Look familiar?” His gaze moved to Beth.

Blue, spiral, three ring, and distinctive drawings on the outside. “Hey, that’s mine. Where’d you get that?” Mark reached for the item, but Randy pulled it away.

Randy tucked the notebook under his arm. “Let’s just say, I came into possession of it.”

Mark took a step forward, towering over Randy. “You mean you stole it.”

“Making accusations, Mark? Not nice. Especially when I could make a few of my own. This diary of yours, thought-provoking material. I’m sure Beth might be interested in the contents.”

No way. He reached for the diary, but Randy dropped the notebook and brandished a gun.

Mark’s senses jumped to full attention. The man waved the weapon in front of them and nodded toward Beth. “You can tell her the truth, or I can. What’ll it be?”

Mark put his hands up and moved closer to Beth, attempting to shield her. An emotional interplay. Smart move on the other guy’s part. Now if only he could keep his head straight and his mind focused.

Beth grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me what?”

Not now. The moment Mark had dreaded the past eleven years, and at a time when he needed more than anything to stay focused on the gun. “Beth, I wanted to tell you. But I didn’t know how.” He kept a gun in the work desk. The problem would be getting to it without being noticed.

“What do you mean?” Beth asked. “I thought you’d told me everything about your condition.”

Randy stepped toward Beth. “When your brother died…” He turned his head at an awkward angle. A wild and bizarre grin formed on his face—the sides of his mouth lifted at awkward and unnatural angles. “Know how it happened?”

Beth glanced between Mark and Randy. “An ambush.”

Randy leaned against the side of the desk and chuckled.

Here it came. The gory details were headed toward Beth faster than a cruise missile. And Mark couldn’t stop it. But if he could stop Randy from hurting them…Mark shifted his gaze to the middle desk drawer, near where the man stood.

“Right. An ambush. I’m guessing Mark neglected to mention the presence of friendly fire.” Randy shook his head. “Can’t imagine why.”

“Friendly fire? No. No, I don’t believe it.” She glared at Randy then faced Mark. “Tell him it isn’t true.”

“Beth, I wish I could.” He was going to have to wrestle for the weapon. There was no other choice. He might get shot, but at least he could save Beth.

“You shot him?” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“Someone in our unit did. I was in charge. I didn’t see the ambush coming. Chris went down, and I tried to save him. I failed him.”

“After you shot him?” Randy’s smile turned to a grotesque frown. “You said you were guilty. You wrote about it.”

Emotions overrode his focus on the weapon, and Mark touched her arm. “I feel guilty. It wasn’t my gun that killed him, but I was still in charge. Under my command, Chris was killed as a result of friendly fire.”

Beth sobbed. “No, this can’t be happening.” She stepped away from Mark. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. So he wasn’t killed by the enemy. He was killed by his friends.” She narrowed her gaze. “Was it Bill? Tim? What about Kent? What else have you been keeping from me?”

“Beth, I’ll never tell you. The military dealt with it. In combat—”

“First you neglect to tell me about the post-traumatic stress disorder and the fact that you can walk, and now this. How can ever I trust you?” She leaned nearer to him. “How can I ever get close to you?”

Randy holstered his gun, grabbed Beth’s hand, and dragged her away. “C’mon, Beth. You deserve a real man, a whole man, someone better.”

Mark reached for Beth, but his legs buckled beneath him. He slumped to the ground and put his hand to his head, but the pounding wouldn’t stop. His feet failed to cooperate. He couldn’t move. No, not again. Not another episode, now of all times. He tried to tell himself that it was all in his head—work himself out of the episode, but his legs refused to cooperate.

Words came from Beth’s mouth, but Mark’s mind kept spinning. He tried to grip the wall to help him stand. He fought a losing battle, relying only on his upper body strength.

“Mark, please.” Beth reached toward him.

Randy dragged Beth to the door. They’d gotten that far.

Beth kicked and screamed. “Mark, don’t listen to him. It’s in your mind. Your legs are fine. You can walk!” Again she screamed. “Get up, Mark. Help me. I forgive you.”