Savannah’s gut clenched tighter. “Was she kidnapped?”
“I don’t think so. A security camera at her apartment building showed her leaving with a suitcase this morning. She seemed to be in a hurry.”
“She fled?”
“That’s the suspicion.” Nora gestured to the phone still in Savannah’s hand. “The call upset you. Anything I can help with?”
Savannah told her about the Kramer call. “I’d better call Hez and see if he’s free, but we’re not driving up together. I’m not ready to hear more lame excuses yet.”
Hez walked into the Bay Minette jail visiting room. Savannah was already there, perched on the edge of a vinyl chair, eyes focused on the glass partition in front of her. She turned as he entered and gave him a perfunctory nod but no smile. He’d forwarded her a message from Bruno stating the X-rated pictures with Martine were faked, but she hadn’t answered. He hadn’t expected her to, not yet.
He sat beside her and shot her an apologetic glance, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was watching the door at the back of the room on the other side of the partition. It opened and a few prisoners filed in under the watchful eyes of a pair of guards.
Deke Willard appeared younger and less threatening than Hez remembered. The last time Hez had seen him had been atDeke’s sentencing hearing. Deke had stood next to his attorney while the judge read the plea bargain with the DA’s office and asked Deke if he agreed with it. Deke had fumed, flexing massive muscles as the judge spoke and spitting out curt responses. As one of Deke’s victims, Hez had been only too happy to see him sentenced to life without possibility of parole.
Deke still had gorilla arms, and his shaggy brown hair touched the collar of his orange prison uniform, but he was clean-shaven and his eyes were clear and focused. He sat and reached for the phone on his side.
Hez nodded to Savannah as he brought the handset to his ear. She did the same, holding it in both hands.
“Hi, um, thanks for coming.” Deke’s voice was rough and nervous. “I think Pastor Tim told you I—I decided to become a Christian.”
“He did, yes. We’re glad for you,” Savannah said.
Deke’s gaze flicked between them. “Are you Christians too?”
Hez nodded. “We are.”
Deke relaxed a fraction. “So you know what Jesus says about the truth settin’ you free. Pastor Tim—he’s the preacher I been talkin’ to—he says that a lot. He asked me to pray on it, so I done that and, uh—” He cleared his throat. “Uh, the Spirit put on my heart that I should talk to you two.”
Hez leaned forward. “What do you want to say to us?”
Deke licked his lips and stared at the scarred Formica counter in front of him. “Um, I did those things. I was there both times. That first night, I hit you in the head, Mr. Hez. And I’m the one that put the bag over your head, Ms. Savannah. And... well, you know it was me on the boat. You saw the cops pull offmy mask. I feel really bad about it. I-I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me someday.” The last sentence came out in a rush, as if he couldn’t wait to get it over and done with.
The memories reached out from the shadows of Hez’s mind and grabbed him. He relived the blow crashing into the left side of his skull as he had sat outside Beckett Harrison’s house listening to Savannah’s conversation with the former TGU provost. He, Savannah, and Simon woke up in the cemetery the next morning—an unsubtle warning about what would happen if they didn’t stay away from Harrison and his artifact-smuggling ring. They hadn’t, so Harrison and Deke kidnapped them again and took them out to the Gulf to kill them—and make it look like a murder-suicide where Hez killed Savannah and Simon. Hez could still feel the rough nonslip surface of the boat’s deck under his cheek as he lay zip-tied, waiting for the killing shots. He could still see the helpless terror in Savannah’s eyes.
Deke licked his lips again and jiggled his right knee as he watched their faces. His muscles twitched and his eyes held a mixture of fear and hope.
The career criminal sitting on the other side of that glass pane didn’t deserve forgiveness. He’d attacked the love of Hez’s life. He’d twice kidnapped a child. He’d been prepared to murder Simon, Savannah, and Hez in cold blood. And he didn’t confess his crimes or ask forgiveness until he had nothing left to lose.
But Dekehadasked for forgiveness—and who was Hez to refuse it? Ella’s glassy, dead eyes stared up at him out of the deep waters of memory. He hadn’t deserved forgiveness for herdeath. The boulder of guilt crushed him for years and nearly destroyed him. Would he even be here today without God’s forgiveness—and Savannah’s?
Hez’s hand found Savannah’s, and he held her fingers in a tight grip. “I forgive you, Deke. I’ve done some bad things in my life too.”
Savannah’s eyes filled and she gave a jerky nod. “I forgive you too, Deke.”
Deke leaned back and ran his fingers through his shaggy mop of hair. “Thank you.”
A detail from the first kidnapping popped into Hez’s memory. “What about the Justin’s peanut butter cups?”
Deke froze. “What do you mean?”
Hez’s brain switched into lawyer mode. The peanut butter cups had been mentioned in the police file on Ella’s death. That detail must have come from a police department insider: the PHPD mole. Deke must know who that was.
“I think you know exactly what I mean, Deke. You left Justin’s peanut butter cups on Simon’s chest at the cemetery during that first kidnapping. Why?”
The color drained from his face, leaving him a pasty white. “I—I don’t remember.” His gaze shifted away and revealed his lie.
Hez shook his head. “I can tell you’re lying. God can tell too.”
