Tell No Lies (25 page)

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Authors: Tanya Anne Crosby

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense

BOOK: Tell No Lies
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Chapter 26
Augusta awoke on a hard floor, dazed and sopping wet. She caught a sickly sweet smell—like rotten magnolias—and her head was pounding.
She heard voices.
No, just one.
Josh.
“Everything’s fucking ruined!” he muttered beneath his breath.
Even as her brain honed in on the sound, her mind rejected the knowledge. There was a cloth covering her mouth. She reached for it, flicking it off, rolling toward the sound of his voice.
He hadn’t noticed her yet. He was talking to a dark form in the corner, struggling with something. She blinked, focusing, and her breath caught at the sight of the child huddled on the floor. It was Cody Simmons. She hadn’t seen him since he was in a hospital bassinet, but his picture had been plastered in every paper.
He was alive.
The boy met her gaze across the puddled floor, his eyes feverish but coherent.
Don’t talk,
Cody said to the lady in his head.
Be still.
He was smart enough to know it wasn’t good the man wasn’t wearing a mask. He lay quietly while the man muttered to himself, like his dad did whenever his parents got into a fight. He’d brought a lady with him. She turned and met his gaze, and Cody warned her with his eyes not to speak.
The man was taking off Cody’s cuffs, freeing him. He was standing close to the snake but he couldn’t see it. It wiggled its tail silently in warning, and then cocked its head back, exposing fangs and a white stain in the shadows.
“Josh,” the lady said.
She knew the man’s name.
The bad man ignored her, unhitching Cody’s cuff, pulling the metal brace apart before he turned to look at her.
Keeping his eye on the snake, Cody tested his freedom, wiggling his arms a bit. They didn’t respond well, but he kept wiggling them, wincing as pain shot through his arms.
“You don’t have to do this,” the lady pleaded.
The man got up and walked over to the woman, away from the snake, looking down at her. “I’m not stupid, Augusta. I know what I have to do.”
The lady sat up, holding her ribs. “They’ll realize it was you, Josh. You’re the one who picked me up from the hospital.”
She was hurt, Cody thought.
“I can’t control you, Augusta. Everyone knows how pigheaded you are. I’ll say I dropped you off at Patterson’s and that’s the last I saw of you.”
“What about Sadie’s car?” she snapped.
“What about it?” he answered. “Did you bother to tell anyone it was parked at her house?”
The lady remained silent, rubbing her chest.
“That’s what I thought,” the man scoffed, but he sounded relieved. “I dropped you off at Patterson’s and haven’t talked to anyone since, so how could I possibly know he would be out with Jack, minding other people’s business? And that you would be left all alone? Poor Augusta—always in the middle of things she shouldn’t be.”
The lady grimaced and tried to rise, but the man walked over and kicked her back on her butt and she let out a whimper. “Ian saw her car, too,” she argued.
Cody thought she was brave.
The man said nothing for a minute, and then, “Ian’s brain is full of shit, largely because of you. He was getting close, but all it took to get him off Jennifer’s trail was for you to come into the picture. No one knows shit,” he insisted. “Everyone sees exactly what they want to, no more.”
“You killed her, too, didn’t you?”
The man shrugged, Cody’s handcuff dangling from his hand, and Cody knew he intended to put the cuffs on the lady’s wrists . . . unless Cody could do something to stop him. But he knew he couldn’t fight the man alone. He was weak, and his feet were still tied with rope . . . but he still had a brain . . . and a friend.
His gaze slid to the snake.
“They’re going to find you, Josh.”
The man’s pant leg was hitched around a knife holster that was strapped to his leg. In it was the biggest knife Cody had ever seen. The blade winked in a spear of moonlight that penetrated the window.
“No, they won’t. There’s not a shred of evidence pointing to me.”
Cody peered back at the snake, its body black as coal, blending with the darkness.
“You can bet
someone
saw
something
. They
are
going to find out.”
“I don’t think so,” the man argued. “But if they do, you won’t be anywhere around to tell any tales.”
Augusta peered around, examining her surroundings more closely.
She didn’t recognize this place.
It was an old building in the middle of nowhere. The windows were all boarded up, except one. Outside she could see a train trestle through a blanket of mist. She didn’t recognize it, but there were many of them around—old defunct bridges that had carried coal-powered trains.
“Do you know how many bodies Gaskins tossed into the swamp?”
“What is he now? Your idol?” Augusta countered angrily.
“He was stupid,” he spat. “The point I’m trying to make is that I’m not.” He swung the metal cuffs between them, almost as though he intended to swing them at her. Augusta watched the shiny metal rings move to and fro, her brain searching for options.
The rain had stopped, but the entire floor on one side was wet. Cody was lying in a puddle on one side of the floor, with his hands still stretched above his head as though he didn’t realize his wrists were free. The kid was barely aware. Augusta’s heart ached for him. “Where are we?” she asked.
Josh smiled coldly. “You’ve seen too many movies, Augusta. This isn’t the part where I tell you where you are and why I did it. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Even the sight of the swinging cuffs couldn’t silence her. “No, I know why you did it, Josh. You did it because you’re crazy!” Her gaze reverted to Cody. “Why don’t you at least let him go? What do you want him for?”
His grip tightened on the cuffs, but his anger wasn’t apparent in his face. “Sure, Augusta. Why don’t I set him free so he can run all the way home—and now, thanks to you, he even knows my name. No. That’s not the way this is gonna go. I promise, no one will find you here. No one has a clue where this place is, and those who do forget about it five minutes after they see it. They’re blind to it, just like people are blind to all the shit they don’t want to see!”
His blue eyes glittered, cold as diamonds. “Flo was a stupid bitch. She thought my mother would be happier with the house on Tradd Street. She was doing it for you, you know? Giving away all that land to please a little girl who didn’t know enough to appreciate what she had. Well, I wasn’t about to let her expose my little secret!”
A little piece of Augusta died with that revelation—that until her last breath her mother had been trying to mend fences Augusta was so determined to reinforce. For years she had begged her mother to donate the slaves’ quarters and the overseer’s house to the city—a compromise for Caroline, who valued their history. Augusta had simply wished to wash her hands of all things that brought her shame.
“So what are you doing to do?”
He smiled thinly. “Maybe I’ll cut you into pieces and feed you to the gators. That ought to appeal nicely to your inner conservationist.”
“Is that what you did with the rest of them?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. But don’t worry, we’ll give you a better funeral than Sammy had—and then maybe I’ll find a way to reunite you with Savannah and Caroline, too.” He stooped, cuffs in hand, ready to put them on her, and Augusta kicked him away a little desperately.
“I am not going to just let you put those on me!”
Very calmly, he unsheathed a knife from his boot, holding the gleaming blade between them. “Maybe this will persuade you?”
“Fuck you!” she screamed, and kicked again when he came close, landing a blow near his groin. His face contorted. “I’m not going to make this easy for you, Josh! If you’re going to slice my throat, they are going to find your flesh beneath my nails.” She scrambled backward as he straightened.
The look on his face changed to one of pure fury. “You always were a fucking bitch,” he said. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you!”
Augusta thought she might puke at his declaration. “Even knowing the truth, that’s all you can think about?” she asked. “You’re my fucking brother—not that I can ever be proud of that fact. You’re a monster!”
He smiled coldly.
“All those bodies out in the marsh,” she said. “They’re all yours, aren’t they?”
“Yep,” he said, without remorse. “And every single one of them looked at me like I was God in the end—and so will you,
sister.”
He made another lunge for her, and Augusta scrambled away from him, her ribs burning. “You’re crazy!” she spat. He went after her once more, knife extended, and Augusta kicked his hand. The knife flew out of his grasp and slid across the floor, skipping through the puddles like a stone.
“Fucking bitch!” he groused.
The knife gleamed under a shaft of moonlight.
Cody realized he could reach it.
Instinctively—like the time he caught the grounder and got that mouthy kid out at second—he dove after it, willing his hands to work as he dove as far as the ropes would let him go. The pain in his right ankle sharpened as the ropes caught his feet. With floppy hands, he slapped the knife toward the woodpile in the corner. The cottonmouth hinged its mouth back farther, warning everyone to stay away, but the man couldn’t see it in his upright position. The knife landed beneath the woodpile, its handle winking from the shadows.
“Goddamned brat!” he shouted as he lunged toward the knife, glaring at Cody. “I should’ve killed you as soon as I brought you here!”
Cody recoiled at once, away from the man, away from the woodpile. His eyes sought the lady’s. For an instant, the two of them locked gazes. Her eyes were wide with fear, but Cody wasn’t afraid. She tried to get up, clutching her ribs, and Cody shook his head no, telling her without words to stay. His gaze skidded to the corner where the knife had landed beneath a board, its gleaming blade reflecting the moonlight.
It happened fast.
The cottonmouth struck as the man reached down to grab his knife. With the force of a hammer, it sank its fangs into the man’s arm, gnawing to embed its poison deeper. The knife slid over to Cody. Shrieking in pain, the man pulled his arm away with the snake still attached, swinging wildly as the cottonmouth clung to his arm. He finally flung the snake off. It fell to the floor, then propelled itself after him again, its fangs sinking once more into the flesh of the man’s calf. The man shouted again, trying to flip the snake off his leg.
The woman scrambled to Cody’s side, taking the knife and quickly cutting the rest of Cody’s ropes, then scooped him up while the man fought with the snake. The heavy knife fell to the floor with a clatter.
“Over there!” Cody pointed and the lady ran with him toward the hole in the floor. The metal grate was still pushed away from the opening where the man had dragged the woman through with him. She dropped Cody down into the water. He sank like a rock and held his breath. Like in a dream, he heard the splash of water as she came into the water after him.
Chapter 27
Realizing she had mere seconds before Josh pulled himself together and came after them, Augusta dragged Cody beneath the building toward safety. The water was deep here—deep enough that she couldn’t feel the muddy bottom. There was a narrow space of air between the floor and the river. But she wasn’t strong enough to keep Cody afloat and still get them far enough away from Josh. Grateful Cody wasn’t struggling, she pulled his weight along behind her, praying he was holding his breath.
She had no idea where they were.
Even less where they were going.
She just knew she had to get away.
Resurfacing for a moment to get her bearings, she dragged the child up for a breath and could hear Josh cursing somewhere in the building. It sounded as though he was running toward the trapdoor in the floor, his footsteps clumsy, and then he stumbled and fell again, cursing profanely.
“You’re going to be fine,” she assured Cody.
“I know,” the boy whispered, shivering. But she knew he must be terrified.
“Hold your breath,” she ordered and pulled him back beneath the water. Ignoring the pain that shot through her ribs, she swam with every bit of strength she possessed.
It was impossible to see where they were going. The water was black. But Augusta kept swimming. When she resurfaced, she had never been happier to see open sky, and even happier to hear the sound of choppers in the air. She knew instinctively they were searching for her, and they were coming closer.
All she had to do was get Cody to shore, she told herself, and kept swimming, pulling the boy behind her. Though his upper body felt like dead weight, he kicked his feet, helping her stay afloat.
In the darkness, the bank seemed so far away.
Cody sputtered as she dunked him and came back up, gasping for breath. Augusta didn’t think she would make it, but she couldn’t stop now, knowing Cody was counting on her.
Dear God,
she prayed.
Let me get Cody to safety.
The Ashley River was nearly thirty miles long and wider than the Cooper. On the other side of Folly, the Stono River cut its way through more swampy terrain, wrapping around John’s Island and separating it from James Island. Augusta had no idea which river they were on, but instinct told her they were somewhere on the Stono. She had no memory of the drive to this place and realized Josh had probably kept her out cold by giving her a dose of chloroform. They could be anywhere.
Above them, one of two choppers swept by and then suddenly turned around. The other followed, spotlights swinging toward the water. In their light, she could see Josh appear from beneath the building. He swam toward them, closing the distance faster than Augusta could manage with the burden of a child in her arms.
The bank was too far.
Keep swimming, Augusta.
Josh was a better long-distance swimmer than she was, but she had determination on her side.
Watch this, Augusta!
she heard in her mind—a long-buried memory. Josh dove out of the boat with more than five hundred yards left to go through rough waters to get to shore. By dint of sheer determination, with Augusta motoring beside him, he’d made it without any problem.
The memory alone was enough to make her sink beneath the surface, but she propelled herself back up and kept going.
The choppers were circling now, searching for a safe place to land.
In the distance, she heard police sirens approaching. But not fast enough. Josh kept swimming, faster, closer. It felt as though she had swum miles already. The pain in her chest threatened to blacken her senses.
From nowhere, her sister Savannah’s voice whispered in her ear.
There might come a moment when you will ask yourself, “What should I do?” Do what Augusta Aldridge would never do.
Her arms were tired now.
Don’t give up.
Her sister knew things.
The last time she had followed Savannah’s advice, she had avoided a mugging in a dark alley—maybe worse—because
now
she realized how close they had lived for so long to something vile.
What should she do?
Josh was closer—close enough that she saw the brilliant blue of his eyes gleaming beneath the spotlights. Suddenly, the choppers spun their lights away and disappeared behind the tree line.
“Can you swim?” she asked Cody.
“Yes!” he said, and she shoved him toward shore, but he sank like a rock. She grabbed him by the hair, dragging him back up.
What could she do?
Do what Augusta Aldridge would never do
, her sister’s voice insisted.
Josh knew her better than anyone. He knew her secrets. He knew everything. What would Josh expect her to do?
He was so close now.
His head momentarily bobbed beneath the surface, but reemerged at once and he took a clumsy stroke.
Augusta turned to peer at the shoreline. It was getting closer now, but that was what anyone would be expected to do.
Swim toward shore.
On land, Josh could easily overtake her. A single snakebite probably wouldn’t kill a grown man, but the snake was large, its body thick and black. She knew it had bitten him more than once.
Her ribs burned, her arms hurt, but Cody was helping her as best he could.
When their dog Bear died, his body had swollen to twice its normal size within fifteen minutes. It happened quickly. They’d learned later the cottonmouth’s venom was a hemotoxin and caused paralysis. The dog had probably drowned before he was pulled ashore.
Josh’s head sank beneath the water again, and Augusta didn’t hesitate. She didn’t wait to see if he would resurface this time. Making a sudden decision, she turned away from shore, swimming back into the middle of the river, toward the brightest part of the night sky.
She held Cody around his neck. “Swim, Cody!” she encouraged and she didn’t have to ask again. He moved his feet like little flippers and the two of them swam blindly toward the city lights. The sirens grew closer, but Augusta kept going, swimming parallel to the shore.
Josh tried to follow, swimming clumsily now. “Augusta!” she heard him scream, but her name was a slurred sound coming out of his mouth. She didn’t stop. The boy in her arms was all she cared about right now.
Behind them, Josh began to fall farther and farther behind.
Another chopper flew by, swinging its spotlight into the river.
That was the last time Augusta spied Josh’s head above water. He took a last awkward stroke, slapping the water and then his head went down and didn’t reappear.
Augusta swam until she couldn’t anymore, pulling Cody by his neck. They ran aground on the tidal flats, and she dragged him through the spartina grass to his feet, scooping him immediately into her arms. Finding strength she didn’t know she possessed, she trudged through the mire. The child’s grip tightened, his little arms squeezing her tighter. Despite the pain in her ribs, Augusta welcomed the feel of it.
“Thank you,” he cried, burying his face against her neck.
Too out of breath to respond, Augusta held him close, and made her way toward the sirens.
 
In total, sixteen bodies were unearthed from the plough mud.
Sam’s bones were not among them, but they had been nearby all along, buried along a stretch of their own property near the ruins . . . where an ancient magnolia tree vied for survival among the more aggressive natural flora. Covered by vines, and pressed between overgrown oaks and blackgum trees, the tree was diseased and dying.
The leaves had formed purplish-black spots with white centers and powdery mildew. Infected leaves fell prematurely from the tree—a blanket of disease covered Sam’s unmarked grave—like the lies and deceit that had cloaked their lives.
So they moved him to a spot nestled within reach of their mother’s loving arms, beneath a gorgeous live oak, its branches thick and leaden with age. Silver moss clung to the boughs like hoary curtains. After twenty-nine long years they finally had closure.
Coming to grips with everything would become their journey now—a journey the three of them had agreed to embark upon together. If there was one thing this ordeal had done for them . . . it was to bring them closer together.
Savannah booked a flight home the minute she heard. She would finish her book here, unfettered from her life in D.C. Caroline set a date to marry Jack and arranged to empty her storage units in Dallas. Augusta formally quit her job in New York and planned to finish the renovations before making a decision about what she would to do with the rest of her life.
As for Sadie, they were trying hard to forgive her. After all, she was the woman who had raised them . . . and she hadn’t actually known about Josh’s secret life—nor had she consciously suspected until they had begun to unearth the horrors in the marsh. It was only then that she had dared to see her son with different eyes and had come forward to confess.
But she had lied. She had kept Sam’s body a secret from them—and it didn’t matter whom she was protecting. She had lied about Josh, as well. Understanding her reasons didn’t excuse her, but she was only human . . . and none of them could claim to be perfect.
Still, Augusta couldn’t bear to see her grieve for a monster. Josh might have been her son, and their brother, but she could not separate the good from the evil. All their memories now were tarnished beyond repair.
Cody Simmons remained in the hospital, but he would recover. Six days without food or water had taken a toll on his little body. His ankle was broken, and it was possible he would lose the use of his left hand. The pressure of leaning on one side of his body had constricted blood flow to that limb, but he was a lucky little boy and didn’t seem to care. The Charleston police department planned to award him the medal of valor, for acts of bravery and endurance. Without him, Augusta knew neither of them would have survived.
If any one thing had been different, Cody—and Augusta—might be exactly where Sam was right now.
As a matter of courtesy, Sadie had stayed away from the private ceremony, leaving these moments for Augusta, Caroline and Savannah alone. It didn’t seem appropriate for her to be there.
Augusta couldn’t have borne a crowd. This moment was private, painful and long overdue. All the tears she had not been able to shed at her mother’s funeral now flowed from her eyes in an endless stream.
At her side, Ian held her by the arm, as though to keep her upright. Jack stood by Caroline’s side, and Savannah stood stoically at Augusta’s left, leaning close, but standing alone.
There was no way to determine Sammy’s cause of death precisely, but there were no fractures in his skeleton—nothing to indicate his death had been violent. Sadie claimed his body had washed ashore long after the fact, and that she had buried him. But knowing what they knew now about Josh, Sam’s death broke Augusta’s heart all over again.
The rest of her brother’s story remained shrouded in mystery because Josh’s body was never found. They dredged the shore for miles, searching for his corpse to no avail. Augusta couldn’t decide whether that was poetic justice or a crime in itself.
“Give us light to guide us out of our darkness into the assurance of your love, in Jesus Christ our Lord,” the pastor intoned—words she’d heard far too often in such a short time.
“Amen,” all three sisters said in return.
Caroline was the first to step forward to toss her white lily into the grave. Augusta and Savannah followed. And then it was done. At long last, her baby brother’s little patch of empty earth was empty no longer.
 
The last rays of sun glinted off the boathouse roof in the distance. Ian and Augusta sat on the joggling board on the porch, staring out at the marsh.
At one time, the idea of enjoying the sounds of the marsh from this front porch had been a nightmare. Suddenly, it didn’t seem such a bad thing. After the year was up, they might sell the property, but they hadn’t decided as yet. She still had to restore it, Caroline had to continue to revive the newspaper . . . and Savannah would have to write her book. With eight months left to go, anything could happen . . . and if Savannah was brave enough to write it . . . there was a story to tell . . .
Her sisters and Jack were now inside with Sadie.
Punishing her for Josh’s sins seemed wrong, but it would be difficult to put the past entirely behind them. She and Daniel had come by to let them know that she was giving her property to the city in accordance with Florence’s will. Daniel had asked her to marry him. Sadie had agreed, and planned to move in with him in his house downtown. For Sadie, leaving her home was as much a matter of healing as repairing the main house was for Augusta.
The police were not pursuing charges against her, although they could have. Sadie hadn’t known about Josh’s crimes. Her greatest sin was in trying to protect those she loved.
On the porch, she and Ian lapsed into an easy silence and Augusta sucked in a breath of sulfur-tinged air, trying to feel differently about the place she’d once called home . . . could she do it again?
“This is straight out of a painting,” Ian said at her side.
“Yeah,” Augusta agreed, and nodded. For certain, the marsh was beautiful, but she wasn’t sure she could live here once the house was restored.
Beside her, Ian pulled something out of his shirt pocket, and held it in a closed fist.
“I hear people say all the time that if you wait until the right time to have a baby, there would be no kids born on this planet.”
Augusta looked at him, wondering at the random remark.
“I’ve never been much for doing things the way other folks feel is right . . .” He slid to one knee beside her. “But you’re right . . . asking the woman I love—the only woman I’ve ever loved—to marry me in a text is lame.” He opened his hand to reveal a beautiful silver ring set with at least a two-karat emerald. “So . . . will you marry me, Augusta?” he asked, his heart shining like a light in his bright blue eyes.

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