Critical Doubt Page 2

  She smiled at that memory. "I remember when you had four dogs, because Paul couldn't stop rescuing them."

  "And then Tyler's allergies kicked in, and we had to find them all good homes." Abby sighed. "Paul was a good guy."

  "Of course he was." She wondered why there seemed to be doubt in Abby's eyes. "Am I missing something?"

  "It's just that Paul's emotions went haywire after he was injured, after he realized he couldn't go back to his team, because he had nerve damage in his hand and arm. He didn't know what to do with himself."

  "It's difficult for a lot of soldiers to start over, especially when the choice isn't theirs."

  "I tried to be understanding; I really did. But it wasn't enough." Abby teared up. "Damn, you'd think I'd be done crying by now."

  Savannah dug into her bag and pulled out a pack of tissues. "I came prepared."

  Abby wiped her eyes. "Thanks."

  "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

  "Turn back time."

  "I wish I could. I still don't understand how it happened." She regretted her words as soon as she said them, because more anguish entered Abby's eyes.

  "I'm pretty sure it's my fault."

  "Your fault? That's impossible."

  "My mom blames me. I've seen it in other people's eyes, too."

  She was shocked at Abby's words. "Why would your mother hold you responsible for Paul drinking too much and falling off a roof he shouldn't have been on in the first place?"

  "I kicked Paul out three weeks ago, Savannah. He wasn't just visiting Todd that night; he was living there."

  "I had no idea. I know you said you'd been having some problems since Paul came home, but I didn't realize they were that bad. Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I was hoping Paul and I could fix things, but he's been different since he left the army. I almost wish he'd been able to stay in, which is crazy, considering how many times I prayed for him to get out. But he wasn't the same man. He was moody and angry, jealous and paranoid."

  "It sounds like he needed help."

  "Which he wouldn't get. I asked him to go to counseling with me, and he refused. I said I'd be fine if he went on his own, if he was worried about me being there, but he wasn't happy with that idea, either. He was drinking from morning 'til night. He was barely coherent in the evenings. He literally passed out at the dinner table one night. He fell head-first into the mac and cheese. He scared Tyler. My little boy ran out of the room crying. I had to drag Paul into the bedroom that night. He was so out of it. And the next day he didn't remember a thing. But I remembered."

  "I'm so sorry," she whispered, feeling an overwhelming wave of sympathy.

  "That's when I told him he had to leave. He had to get sober and get help. I thought I was protecting Tyler, but maybe I was too harsh. Paul served his country. He was a hero. He saved lives, and I kicked him out."

  "You were protecting your son."

  "Or was I just protecting myself?"

  "No, you were doing what you had to do for both of you. What happened after he left?"

  "He seemed to get a little better. He said he would see a doctor and that he was cutting back on the alcohol. I let him visit with Tyler a few times, and it went well. I thought that staying with Todd was good, too. Because Todd was in Paul's unit. He was part of the ambush. Paul could be himself with Todd. And Todd needed the connection, too; that's why he moved here from Jacksonville two months ago. They grounded each other. They were better together."

  She'd met Todd once at a birthday party, and had thought he was a good guy, a little too hyper for her, but fun to be around. "What did Todd think about Paul's behavior?"

  "He was worried, too, but he kept saying Paul would work his way out of it, that he loved me and Tyler, and he'd find his way back. I wanted to believe him. But now he'll never come home."

  "Oh, Abby, this is so messed up. But you are not to blame for Paul's drinking or his fall."

  "I'm glad you don't think so, but I know other people do."

  "That's their problem, not yours. You and Paul were the only ones in your marriage. It was between you two."

  Abby stared back at her, with her heart in her eyes. "I just worry that maybe it wasn't exactly an accident. I know that's also being gossiped about. Like maybe he didn't fall—maybe he jumped."

  "Is there any evidence of that? Was Todd there when Paul fell?"

  "No. He was asleep. He woke up when he heard Paul land on the trash cans. He ran outside and found him. Todd said…" Abby drew in a shaky breath. "He said his neck was broken and he was dead. There was no coming back."

  "Oh, God," she whispered, putting a hand to her mouth.

  "I wasn't home that night. I was in Atlanta with Tyler and some friends. By the time Todd got a hold of me and I got back here, Paul's body was already in the morgue."

  She was horrified at the details. "I'm so sorry, Abby."

  "Everyone says I should be glad he didn't suffer, that he probably never knew what happened, but I know. I can't forget it."

  "Of course you can't."

  "Paul's blood alcohol was twice the legal limit. He was very drunk, Savannah. It would have been easy for him to fall."

  She nodded, wishing she knew what to say.

  "I better go inside, Savannah."

  "Are you sure you're ready?"

  "I have to be. Oh, one other thing," Abby continued. "Your cousin Josie may also show up. I know you don't talk to her, but she came back to Dobbs a few months ago, and she's in all my social female groups. We've become friends. I think she's changed since she was such a jealous bitch to you. But I hope you don't think I'm betraying you."

  She was touched that Abby even had the bandwidth to worry about that. "You're not betraying me. And you don't have to avoid her. If you're friends now, great. It doesn't matter to me.""

  "Good, then I won't feel guilty about that."

  "You shouldn't be feeling guilty about anything."

  "These days, guilt seems to be my middle name."

  "Well, we're going to change that."

  "Are you coming in?"

  "I'll be inside in a minute. I just need to make a quick call." After Abby left, she let out a breath, not bothering to get her phone from her bag. She didn't have a call to make; she just needed to get her head together. The details of Paul's death, the last few weeks of his life, the problems in the marriage were all much worse than she'd realized. Now she was the one feeling guilty for not having kept up with Abby's life. But she would do better now. She would do everything she could to get Abby through this.

  She just wanted the memorial to be over, so she wouldn't have anyone else to worry about but Abby. But at the moment, she was still dreading the idea of running into her father or her cousin and having to deal with old family business. And then there was Ryker…

  She hadn't yet let herself think about him, but as she stood in the cooling, late afternoon air, she felt a rush of warmth as his image filled her head. She wasn't seeing the man who had looked like he wanted to kill her a few minutes ago, but rather the guy in the hotel bar with the compelling brown eyes, scruffy beard, and sexy mouth. He'd given her a confident, I'm-on-top-of-the-world smile and asked her to join him for a drink, and there was no way she could have said no. Because that night, that moment in her life, she'd felt completely adrift, lost between one world and the next, and she'd wanted a third option, an escape, a time-out from the pressures of trying to decide her life. Ryker had given her exactly what she needed in so many ways.

  It hadn't been easy to leave his bed before dawn. A big part of her had wanted to stay, to talk, to share names and stories, to have breakfast, maybe lunch, perhaps even another night. But they were ships passing in the night. He was going one way; she was going the other. So, she'd left and for some reason doing that, taking that action, actually made everything else fall into place.

  It might have just been a one-night stand for Ryker, but for her it had been a lot more. In some small way, she'd
taken back some of her power, and she'd been able to make the hard choices that had been dogging her for a long time.

  She'd never thought she'd see him again. Actually, that wasn't completely true. When she'd realized he was friends with Paul, she'd thought there was a chance their paths might intersect once more, but she'd never imagined it would be like this, on a very, very sad day.

  Ryker had looked awful, a shadow of himself. He'd lost weight. He was paler than he had been, but it was in his eyes that she'd really seen the change. There had been sadness, anger, grief, and, strangely enough, uncertainty. He'd probably been the cockiest man in the bar the night they'd met, and she'd found his confidence inspiring. But today it felt like he was the one who was adrift.

  She knew he'd been injured in the ambush and that he'd had to leave the army. He'd lost two friends—make that three now. He was definitely no longer on top of the world, and a part of her wished she could do something about that. But her focus had to be on Abby and Tyler. Ryker would have to deal with his issues on his own.

  In reality, they barely knew each other. He had his life and she had hers. They couldn't go back in time and recreate that magical night. It needed to just stay a happy memory.

  As she turned to go back inside, she froze, her happy memory materializing in front of her in a very real, very physical way. Ryker might be a shadow of his former self, but he still made her heart beat faster.

  "I was just on my way in," she said, even though he hadn't asked what she was doing.

  "Before you go, let's talk."

  "Why?"

  "Why not?" he countered.

  "I'm here for Abby."

  "But Abby isn't here, and you are. She can do without you for a couple of minutes."

  "I don't want to talk about that night."

  "Then let's talk about now. You said you weren't a dancer. What do you do, Savannah? Who are you?"

  She stared back at him, not sure why she was hesitating. She was proud of herself. She was living her own life and no one else's. "I'm a special agent with the FBI."

  His jaw dropped and wonder entered his eyes. "Well, I was not expecting that. You're serious?"

  "Do you want me to show you my badge?"

  "Were you FBI the night we met?"

  "No. I was a soldier. I was on leave from my job in Army intelligence in Kuwait."

  More surprise ran through his eyes. "Why did you let me think you were one of the dancers?"

  She thought about that. The answer was really very simple, and it was a pattern she'd lived too many times in her life. "You wanted me to be one of those women. I gave you what you wanted."

  He gave her a thoughtful look. "What about what you wanted?"

  "I got what I wanted, Ryker. We had a good time. I didn’t have any regrets. Did you?"

  "Only one. I wished I'd gotten your name. I would have liked to see you again."

  "I suspect you only wanted to see me again, because I left before you did. You like to control the timeline."

  "Possibly," he admitted. "Why did you run away?"

  "I didn't run away. The night was over. That's all we'd promised each other."

  "It could have been more than that."

  "But it wasn't." She paused. "You look like you've had a rough year, Ryker. Abby told me you were injured and that you couldn’t go back to active duty. I'm sorry."

  A shadow fell over his eyes. "I'm fine now."

  She wondered about that. There was no visible sign of injury but there was something about the way he moved that felt a little stiff and not like the powerful, athletic man she'd met five years ago. "What do you do for work?"

  "I run fishing charters on the Chesapeake Bay. That's where I live now."

  "That sounds relaxing."

  He shrugged. "I suppose. It's quiet. I need that."

  "You—the life of the party—now likes quiet?"

  Something passed through his gaze. "You have no idea how much I appreciate silence."

  His words were odd. "What does that mean?"

  "Nothing. You should go find Abby."

  Now that he wanted her to leave, she felt inclined to stay. "When you first saw me, you had a deadly look in your eyes, as if you thought I was going to attack you."

  He gave her an awkward nod. "Sorry about that. I'm a little on edge."

  "Are you okay, Ryker? I know this must be awful for you. Paul considered every man on his team his brother. I loved him, too, but I didn't spend as much time with him as you did."

  He gazed back at her, a look of pain in his dark eyes. "It's worse than awful. But it is what it is."

  She glanced toward the church as the door opened, and Todd Davis stepped onto the patio. Todd's expression turned grim as he realized he wasn't alone. She could feel the tension in Ryker's body as he met Todd's gaze. She didn't know what was between them, but she had a feeling these two men had a lot to discuss, and she did not need to be in the middle of any more drama. "I'll let you and Todd talk."

  "You don't have to leave."

  "It's fine. I need to get back to Abby." As she moved past Todd, she gave him a brief smile. "I'm so sorry," she said.

  He gave her a tight nod, his eyes strained. "Me, too. I'm glad you're here for Abby, Savannah. She needs you."

  "Then I better get inside."

  When she walked into the auditorium, she realized the crowd had grown. While some people had missed the service, they had come for the reception. And one of those people was a tall, older man in an army dress uniform. He had a strong build, and an imposing presence. His light-brown hair was now peppered with gray, but he looked every bit as stern and intimidating as he always had.

  She felt a turbulent mix of emotions: love, hate, and everything in between. For the last five years, she'd been able to keep her past and her present apart, but they were getting closer by the minute.

  Chapter Two

  Ryker stared at Todd as he slowly made his way across the patio, each step appearing more reluctant than the last. Apparently, Todd wasn't that interested in talking to him, either. He was probably angry. He had a right to be.

  "Didn't think you'd show up," Todd said, as he paused in front of him. He pulled out a cigarette and lighter, his hand shaking as he lit the flame.

  Todd looked as bad as Ryker felt. His eyes were bloodshot, and the smell of smoke coming off his clothes told Ryker this wasn't Todd's first cigarette of the day. He'd also lost at least twenty pounds since he'd seen him last.

  "You all right?" he asked.

  "How could I be?" Todd returned, pain in his voice, anger in his brown eyes. "Paul's dead."

  "How the hell did it happen?" He couldn't help voicing aloud the question that had been going through his head ever since he'd heard the news. "Paul gets drunk and decides to go up on the roof? Why?"

  "Because he was messed up. Not that you would care."

  "I do care."

  "You have a hell of a way of showing it." Todd took a long drag and blew smoke into the cold afternoon air. "Paul was drinking too much. He was destroyed after Abby kicked him out, not that he was much better before that."

  "Abby kicked him out? When?"

  "Three weeks ago."

  "Why?"

  "Because he'd become a raging alcoholic. He couldn't find his feet, Ryker. He was completely lost. He felt worthless. His family life was just as bad. He didn't fit in with Abby and Tyler anymore. They were a solid unit, and they didn't need him. They were used to him being gone. He was even jealous of Abby's friend Colin, saying he'd be a better husband to Abby and father to Tyler. I told him that wasn't true, but Paul started thinking Abby would be better off without him."

  "Damn. I had no idea."

  "How would you know? You haven't returned a call or a text in nine months."

  He had no defense, and he didn't think Todd would tolerate any excuse he tried to make. Why should he? He'd let them down—all of them.

  "When did you move here? I thought you were in Jacksonville with your mom,
" he said.

  "I was, but her Alzheimer's worsened, and she didn't know me anymore. It got too depressing to visit her, and with Paul having rough times, I decided to move to Dobbs. I've been working with a private security firm out of Atlanta. When I'm not on assignment, I'm here. I tried to get Paul to come on board with the firm. They have some jobs that don't require field work, but he said he wasn't a desk guy and he'd have to figure something else out."

  "I can understand that," he muttered.

  "I heard you're a fisherman now."

  "Yes."

  "And you're living on a boat?"

  "It's great. No commute."

  "Sounds boring as shit."

  "Boring works for me."

  "It never used to."

  "Well, it does now."

  "How did we end up like this?" Todd muttered, giving him a look of confusion. "We were the best of the best, Ryker. We were changing the world. And then it all blew up—literally." He paused. "I keep thinking about our last mission. We had bad intel, but where did it come from? Did someone sell us out? Was it just an honest mistake? Or did one of us screw up?"

  "I've been asking the same questions, not that it matters anymore. We can't change what happened."

  "Carlos and Leo should be alive. You, Paul, and Mason shouldn't have been injured, shouldn't have been tossed out the way you were. That's one reason why I quit. I couldn't stand how you all were treated. Hank felt the same way."

  He didn't know what to say. Todd's anger was ramping up, and maybe that was a good thing. Perhaps it was the only way he could deal with the immense guilt and blame that he was feeling.

  Ryker was angry, too, on so many different levels. But he couldn't even get to the heart of his anger, much less let it out. It would probably be healthier if he could, because it felt like it was eating him alive.

  "I'm glad the sun is going down," Todd said, sweeping his hand toward the horizon. "It shouldn't be sunny on this horrific day."

  He followed Todd's gaze. The church sat atop a hill and from their vantage point they could see the wild Dobbs River that was swollen from the winter rains. The water rushed over boulders, disappearing between thick pine trees, as it moved downstream, where the tributary would eventually dump into the Chattahoochee River.