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“It’s a risk,” Josie said.
“I like risks.”
Josie gestured toward the asphalt and then, in a low crouch, pistol at the ready, ran over to the car. Gretchen followed.
From somewhere beyond the darkness, Beau’s voice pleaded. “You don’t need to do this. You don’t. You’ve already taken everything. I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry for what you did to me? To my wife? Or are you just sorry that your life is ruined?”
The answer didn’t come fast enough for Raffy. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh came next, then more cries from Beau.
Gretchen carefully poked her head up over the sedan’s hood. A second later, she resumed her position beside Josie. “We need another light up here. A big one. Powerful. The way these spotlights are angled upward, I can only see the bridge ceiling. I can’t see where Raffy or Collins are positioned. If we get a decent light, we can shine it in Raffy’s eyes and we blind him. Rush in, take him down.”
Josie said, “One of the cars will have something. Go get one. I’ll stay here. The biggest flashlight you can get.”
“Now,” Raffy said. “I’ve got everyone’s attention. The spotlight is literally on your secret mistress and bastard son. I’m going to make you watch this.”
“Please don’t,” said Beau. “My son didn’t do anything. He doesn’t even know who I am! If you want to hurt someone, hurt me. Throw me over. Shoot me. Strangle me. Stab me. I don’t care. But let him go.”
A female voice came from the shadows that Gretchen had disappeared into, disembodied but strong. “Husband?”
Silently, Josie cursed. Who had let Brooke Sullivan up here?
“Go back!” Josie hissed, as Brooke emerged from the darkness, walking unsteadily toward the car. “Brooke, go back.”
“Brooke?” Raffy called.
“Stop this,” she said. “Stop all of this.”
“You, of all people, should not ask me to stop! He ruined you. Ruined us. He manipulated you, violated the sanctity of our marriage, and then when you asked him to leave his wife to be with you, he refused.”
“No—” Brooke cried. Her legs wobbled and she fell.
“Stay down!” Josie told her. “He’ll be able to see you. He’s armed!”
Ignoring her, Brooke hauled herself back to her feet.
From inside the bridge, the sound of an impact came, followed by Beau yelping. “Tell her.”
“That’s not what happened,” Beau cried. “That’s not it. I just wanted some time to think about things.”
Another blow, another yelp. Raffy said, “You’re such a liar. You can’t stop yourself. If you won’t tell her the truth then I will. Brooke! He was in the car with you that day. The day of the accident. He was with you. You don’t remember but after you woke up, you were lucid for a short while. You kept crying for him, wanting to know if he survived the accident. That’s when I knew. He was with you, and he left you. He got out of the car, climbed to safety, and left you there, hanging, waiting to plummet to your death.”
“No,” Brooke called, taking another step. “No, that’s not true.”
“Brooke!” Josie pleaded. “Please go back!”
“Stop it,” Beau cried. “Stop this now. Just shut up.”
A thud silenced him.
Raffy went on. “It’s true. He will never admit it, but I saw him right after the accident. I followed him. He was banged up. Bruised. He had been in the accident. I was going to confront him but then the hospital called because you coded. By the time I got there, they had brought you back again, but I knew the truth, and I realized with each day that passed and you not getting any better that he needed to pay.”
“No,” Brooke said. Through the shadows, Josie could see that she was almost to the car.
“Why won’t you listen to me?” Raffy shrieked. “Why can’t you ever admit the truth about this piece of garbage? He left you in the car that day. He left you to die. He never even called 911. That’s how much he loved you, how much he cared about you.”
Beau’s sobs flooded the night. “That’s not true. I did—I did love her. I—that’s not how it happened.”
