Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,98

us? I’d like a little time to prepare myself, if that’s OK with you.”

Gurley turned away and stared out at the street. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?” She really didn’t want to have this conversation now.

“Did Rachelle tell you?”

If she hadn’t been certain about her suspicions before, she sure as hell was now. Ingrid stared out through the windshield too. Those street lights that were still working started to flicker into life.

“If you have something you want to confess, maybe you can save it for another time?”

“I know Carrie couldn’t hurt Molly deliberately. I just want you to understand that.”

“I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

“Kyle was on a training mission in Iraq. Carrie was lonely. I was in the right place at the right time, I guess.” He put a hand to his forehead and sucked in a breath. “The whole thing ended a little under two years ago. It was over before it started. We both knew it was a mistake.”

Ingrid didn’t respond. What was there to say?

“I promise you I knew nothing about Molly. I had my suspicions, obviously—the timing kind of worked out—but when I asked Carrie about it, she swore to me Molly was Kyle’s.” He ran a hand over his short hair. “What a fucking mess.”

Ingrid sat very still. She tried to recall their first meeting with Carrie Foster at the hospital. There had been something strange about it—a tension she couldn’t identify at the time. Then there was Gurley’s subsequent refusal to have any doubt about Carrie’s account of the incident.

Gurley was right: it was a fucking mess.

“Say something for God’s sake.” Gurley twisted in his seat again.

There were no words of comfort or reassurance she could give him. She reached up and squeezed his shoulder, looked into his face, trying to muster an expression of sympathy, suspecting she was failing spectacularly.

Her phone beeped.

It was a text from Kyle Foster.

“We’re on,” she said, “I have the directions.”

Gurley blinked hard a few times, as if he were trying to refocus his attention.

“I can’t let you go in there on your own,” he said after a moment.

“He’s not going to hurt me. He has no reason to.”

“He could be armed.”

“Really?”

Gurley slammed a hand against the dash.

“I really don’t think he had anything to do with the missing gun at the base. He didn’t have the opportunity.”

Gurley turned to the passenger door and opened it. “I’m going in.”

“He didn’t ask for you.” She put a restraining hand on his arm. “Please, Jack. Think about it.”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Maybe Kyle knows about… Maybe you’re the last person he wants to see.” She braced herself, worried how Gurley would react. She needn’t have. He just slumped back in his seat.

“I don’t want you going in there without backup.”

He still didn’t trust her abilities. She would have gotten mad if she’d had the energy. “Tough—we’re doing this my way.”

“You should have some protection at least.”

“I can look after myself.”

“Why not have a little extra help?” Gurley shoved an arm behind his back, beneath his jacket. He yanked something from the waistband of his pants. Then held it out to Ingrid.

The Beretta M9 seemed small in his huge hand.

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Recoiling from the gun, Ingrid pressed her back into the driver door. “What the—”

“Take it.”

“No way. Do you have any idea how much crap I’d be in if anyone found me with that?”

“Same for me.” He proffered the gun again.

“It’s the missing pistol from the munitions store, isn’t it?”

“We were hunting a man who tried to kill a fourteen month old and had abducted his son. I wanted a little backup.”

“And how convenient, to blame Kyle Foster for the theft. You were actually prepared to frame him?”

Just when Ingrid thought she was getting a measure of the man, that maybe Gurley wasn’t the dick she’d supposed him to be, he threw this at her. What was wrong with the guy? She wanted to punch him in the mouth now more than she ever had. How could he possibly think his actions were in any way justifiable? She was tempted to report him to his superior when this whole thing was done.

“I just wanted to get Tommy back safe and sound,” he said. Then added, “By any means necessary.” The gun was still balancing on his open palm, his arm outstretched towards her.

“Get that thing out of my sight.” She thumped the steering wheel with a fist. “And find some way of returning it to the munitions store. You better make sure it’s