Page 147 of Tear Me Apart
He glances at the bed, where Juliet lies, silent as the grave, the machine pumping air into her lungs.
“I have nothing to hide. I did my duty for my country. And I was not abusive to my wife. I loved that woman completely. I’m just sorry she didn’t trust me enough to explain her past to me. I would never hold her diagnosis against her. Then, or now.”
Parks pauses a beat. “Lauren Wright is asking to speak to you.”
“Hell no. She is the last person I want to talk to.”
Parks shoves off from the wall. “Okay. I’ll let them know. I’ll see you back in Nashville. Starr and I are heading home on the late flight tonight. Our job here is done, for now. We have a bunch of threads to pull together back in Nashville, especially with the Gorman investigation. I have to tell his wife what happened. Ain’t going to be a fun visit. She’s a nice lady.”
He is halfway out the door when Armstrong calls out, “Hey, did Lauren say what she wanted to talk about?”
Parks stops, rubs his thumb and forefinger across his mustache. It needs a trim.
“She says she has something important to tell you. That you’ll want to hear what she has to say. And she won’t tell anyone but you, directly.”
Armstrong nods once, twice, as if he’s making up his mind.
“I’ll see her. Do I go to the jail, or what?”
“Yep. I can carry you down there if you want. I admit, I’m rather curious what she has to say, and I have a couple of hours to kill. I’m sure one of Woody’s folks can get you back up here.”
“Okay.” Zack stands and turns, and as he does, Parks sees a flash of movement behind him.
“Armstrong,” he says with a grin.
“What?”
“Turn around.”
Juliet Ryder’s golden eyes are open.
* * *
The doctors have left, and Parks stands outside Ryder’s room, listening to Armstrong recount the events of the past few days, his voice soft and gentle. He wonders how many times Armstrong has told this story. So far, the man has refused all on-air interviews, has only talked to the police, but with Ryder, he’s as animated as Parks has ever seen him. It does his heart good to see the connection between them.
Of course, Ryder is a captive audience. She is still intubated, though the doctors are planning to remove the breathing tube in a few hours. Armstrong isn’t going anywhere right now, and sadly, Parks needs to get to the airport. There are more cases on his desk in Nashville; he can’t wait around any longer.
“It was chaos. Kat was barking,” Armstrong is saying, bending down to rub the dog’s ears. “Your sister was screaming, Mindy was screaming, Jasper was shouting. It was absolute mayhem for a while there. Where the hell did she get a gun? I know, I know, you can’t answer, I shouldn’t be asking questions. But you don’t need to worry, honey. She is in jail now. She can’t hurt you, ever again. Kat here will make sure of it.”
Parks clears his throat, and Armstrong looks up. He salutes him, then walks away.
A shame. He would have loved to hear what Lauren Wright has to say in person.
90
DENVER WOMEN’S
CORRECTIONAL FACILITY
The morning sun sends a shaft of light through the waiting area. The windows are placed high, so there is no chance of looking out, of dreaming, of seeing sunsets and sunrises, or the world passing you by. There are simply mean little thick-glassed windows there to allow extra light into the room so the overheads can be kept off at certain times of the day to save money.
Lauren is wearing the tan jumpsuit the prison issues, with slip-on sneakers. Because Jasper told them she was at risk for hurting herself, she has been kept away from the rest of the prisoners, under a suicide watch.All part of your defense, her lawyers tell her.Just stop talking, for God’s sake.
Her hair is lank, she hasn’t had a shower yet, and she is lonely. So lonely.
But this is what she deserves. She knows this, in her heart. She’s always known she was on borrowed time. For a sweet moment, her life was perfect. For almost eighteen years, she had it all. A family. A daughter. A life. That’s more than so many have. If asked, she will say it again and again: It was worth it.
The guards haven’t been kind, but they haven’t been cruel, yet, either. Indifferent. They are indifferent to her suffering, her pain, her desires. She is just another cog in their overflowing machine, another idiot who chose to break the law. Her value to them is yet to be determined—she is famous, after all. There is plenty of time ahead to assess these things.
