A Gift of Time (The Nine Minutes Trilogy Book 3) (4 page)

 

Chapter Six

Grizz

1988,
Prison, North Florida

 

After discreetly asking
one of the guards on his payroll,
Grizz discovered the young inmate, whose name was William Petty, had been given
special privileges by another guard who had taken pity on him. The man allowed
Petty a couple of nights a week to visit the library after hours. It was really
the only time the young prisoner had to himself.

Less than a
day later, a note was delivered to William. It read simply, “The library
tonight. Midnight. Don’t make me wait.”

It was 11:30
p.m. when Grizz slipped into the library and realized William was already
there. Just like the first night Grizz noticed him, William’s face was
illuminated by the computer screen. His eyes were wide with fear as he looked
at whatever the screen held.

Unnoticed,
Grizz made his way to the open doorway of the small library office. He casually
leaned against it and just watched. When Petty sensed his presence, he stopped
typing and slowly turned toward the large man looming behind him. He was
visibly shaking.

Grizz looked
past him and stared at the computer screen. To his surprise, it was Grizz’s
face staring back at him. Petty had been looking at his mug shot. He didn’t say
anything, just gazed at the young man, who was now very intently studying a
spot on the wall.

Petty spoke
first. “I know who you are. Every—everybody knows you.”

“Then why
were you looking me up on the computer?” Grizz asked in a low voice.

Still
without making eye contact, the young man answered, “Just wanted to see how
much was true.” After a brief pause, he asked in a quivering voice that was
laced with fear, “Wha…what...what do you want? What do you want with me?”

Grizz pulled
his T-shirt up over his head and tossed it, his eyes never leaving William’s
face. The young man caught the shirt and, closing his eyes in recognition of
what was to come, laid it on the desk. William heard the unmistakable sound of
a zipper being lowered. T-shirt and jeans in prison. He knew this guy was
important, and just the fact that he was in the library in the middle of the
night wearing whatever he damn well wanted to told him he shouldn’t try to
fight what was coming. He’d read the guy’s rap sheet. He knew he’d kidnapped a
fifteen-year-old girl, knew he liked them young and pretty. Most of them do, he
thought, as he quietly resigned himself to what was going to happen.

William
opened his eyes and gasped when he saw the size of the man’s cock. There was no
way. Absolutely no way. This guy would tear him to shreds.

Grizz yanked
him to his feet. William decided it was time to lose himself inside his own
head. To block out what he knew was coming. To pray that there wouldn’t be a
mess left to clean up and if there was that he wouldn’t be too incapacitated to
do it.

He took a
big breath and decided that maybe he was wrong to pray for those things. Maybe
he would be better off if he prayed for a quick death.

 

Chapter Seven

Ginny

2000,
Fort Lauderdale (After the Execution)

 

I removed the
diamond earrings from the little stuffed
gorilla and carefully placed them in the pocket of my jeans. I would never wear
them, but maybe I could give them to Mimi one day. It didn’t require an
immediate decision.

Thinking of
Mimi brought to mind Perry, the therapist Tommy and I had been seeing. We knew
we needed to tell Mimi that Tommy was not her biological father, not to mention
figure out what to say in case she wanted to know who he was. Perry was walking
us through that, and we were making some positive headway during our sessions.
But while a part of me felt it was good to consult an expert, I still had
reservations as to whether we needed someone to advise us.

It had only
been a few weeks, but Tommy had been doing some bonding of his own with Mimi
recently, which seemed to be helping. When she was younger, they used to go on
daddy-daughter dates the second Tuesday of every month. Tommy would take Mimi
out, just the two of them, and they would do whatever she wanted. I have to
give him credit—he saw the inside of more skating rinks, movie theaters,
and clothes stores for little girls than most fathers. And, of course, he
always let her choose her favorite restaurant for dinner. I think Tommy ate
enough fast food over the course of the years to last him a lifetime.

But a few
years ago, she’d started making excuses not to go. We chalked it up to the
dreaded teenage years; not sure if she suddenly found it embarrassing to be
seen going out with her father or if it was the same withdrawal I’d experienced
from her. But whatever the reason, it didn’t matter now. Tommy was insistent
that they spend time together, and we were relieved she’d been willing. Now,
when I’d ask him how their recent “date” had gone, he would tell me they were
getting to know each other again. He was trying to build trust for what we
needed to tell her.

I could only
pray this wouldn’t be shattered when it was finally time to reveal the truth.

Shutting the
door to the guesthouse, I marched down the steps and saw Carter on the side of
the main house fiddling with the hose. She turned it off and approached me, her
smile fading as she came closer and noticed a change in my posture. I
approached her stiffly, the resolve in my eyes obvious.

I met her
halfway and said evenly, “I’ll call the paper to run an ad for the cars and
bikes. I’ll probably get some people who’ll be interested. If I can’t make it
over to meet them, would you mind doing it?”

“Of course,
I don’t mind, Gin.” She absently brushed her hair away from her face and peered
at me. “I’m here most of the time.”

I thrust my
chin in the air. “Listen, I think it’s time for you to start using the
guesthouse again. I know you always have your activist friends coming and
going, and sometimes you limit the invites because you can’t accommodate them
all. So, well, feel free to start using the garage and the guesthouse, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.
That’s great. Thanks for that.” Her voice was quiet, and she hesitated. “Are
you okay, Gin? I mean, the Bible, Delia’s letter, knowing he’s...I guess it’s
been one rough morning for you.”

I didn’t
answer her as we both stared at each other. I looked down when I realized what
I was holding, then roughly shoved the small cardboard box at her.

“And another
thing—I need a favor. Can you make sure this goes out with tomorrow’s
garbage? There’s nothing in there that I need or want. I’ll get my Bible next
time I see you.”

Giving her
no time to reply, I made a beeline for my car. I drove off without giving
Carter or my old home a backward glance, all the while trying to convince
myself that any feelings I may have still had for Grizz would be tossed in the
garbage along with the box of mementos.

 

**********

 

I got home earlier than
expected and didn’t know what to do with myself. For the first time in a very
long time I felt listless, without purpose. Maybe it was because I’d put most
of my activities on hold while we were getting our lives back in order after
Grizz’s execution. Hmph. Execution.

I could take
a look over some of my new accounting clients’ books. I was caught up, but I
always found myself diving in to check and double-check myself. I loved working
with the numbers. But not today. I wasn’t in the mood.

I could work
on my Sunday school lesson. Preparing the children’s lessons always brought me
calmness and peace, especially when I was upset about something. Not that I was
upset. I was just so organized that I’d scheduled more time than needed to
clean out the garage and guesthouse, and since that hadn’t taken long at all, I
had some free time on my hands. That was all.

I paced the
house. I could call Sarah Jo to see if she was up for a quick lunch, but
something held me back. Every time I’d tried to get with Sarah Jo in the past
several weeks, she was tied up trying to arrange her move.

I changed
the kitty litter, unloaded the dishwasher, wiped down the refrigerator, and
swept the kitchen and back patio. I was putting the broom and dustpan away when
I looked at the clock on the kitchen stove and realized it wasn’t even
lunchtime yet. I could surprise Tommy at the office and take him to lunch. Or,
I could surprise him with something else. Something really special.
Yes—that was it.

I headed
upstairs to take a quick shower and change. I could only hope he didn’t already
have plans. Of course, I knew when he saw me, he’d know exactly what I had in
mind and would immediately cancel any plans he may have had.

Less than an
hour later, I walked through the doors of Dillon & Davis Architects. Eileen
wasn’t at her desk, so she must’ve already left for lunch. Good. That’s what
I’d hoped. I’d seen Tommy’s car in the parking lot, but his office door was
closed, so I knew he might be in there with clients. I was approaching his door
to tap lightly and peek my head in when I heard a long, low whistle.

“Looks like
my man Tom is going to get lucky this afternoon. What are you doing here, Gin?
And isn’t it a little warm for stockings and stilettos?”

I recognized
the voice immediately and grinned as I turned to see Alec Davis, Tommy’s
partner. Before I could answer him, the phone on Eileen’s desk rang, and Alec
reached for it, mouthing, “Excuse me.”

Alec was a
nice guy. A good guy. We’d been friends with Alec and his wife, Paulina, for a
couple of years. I’d never really warmed up to Paulina. There was something
just a little off about her that I never could quite tap into. She was pleasant
enough when we had a rare business dinner, but it seemed whenever we’d tried to
socialize outside of work, she had some excuse. There were many instances when
Alec would show up with his two little boys in tow for a barbecue or other
activity that Paulina had begged out of at the last minute.

I’d wondered
on more than one occasion if something was wrong. By all outward appearances,
they seemed like the perfect couple. Alec was extremely handsome, successful,
charismatic, and by all accounts a great husband and father. He had light brown
eyes, dark brown hair that was long enough to cover the back of his shirt
collar, and a prominent dimple in his left cheek. He was tall, about Tommy’s
height, and slender but not too thin. I knew he was a runner—not a
jogger, like me, but a serious runner. He also must’ve spent some time with
weights at the gym. It was obvious the first time I saw him at the beach. The
tattoos running up and down both arms and covering his chest had surprised me.
They did little to hide the fact that he had some amazing abs and heavily
muscled biceps. I hadn’t expected that beneath the formal work attire I’d
always seen him wear. I hadn’t drooled over someone as handsome as him since
the first time I’d laid eyes on Anthony Bear all those years ago.

Paulina’s
coloring was in sharp contrast to Alec’s. She had dark brown eyes and light
hair. Her creamy skin only highlighted the deep chocolate of her eyes, and she
kept her naturally curly hair short so that it framed her perfect oval face.
She had a body that most women would envy, especially after having two
children, and a beautiful and wide bright smile framed with naturally pouty
lips. Sadly, her smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

I sat in the
empty seat beside Eileen’s desk and recalled a conversation from that first family
beach trip. I’d been sitting in the beach chair by myself, watching as Tommy
and Alec roughhoused in the water with my Jason and Alec’s two boys. Mimi
wasn’t with us. Paulina had noticed a friend a few blankets down and had gone
over to say hello. Alec had left Tommy in the water with the three kids and
approached me with a smile.

“These kids
are wearing me out. Don’t know where your husband finds the energy.” He reached
for a towel and stood next to me, drying off. He squinted over at Paulina, and
we both saw she and her girlfriend were taking a walk down the beach away from
us.

Alec’s swim
trunks were heavy with the weight of the water, and they were slipping down
below his waist. I’d started to look away when I noticed strange-looking scars
on his right hip. He caught my glance and answered my unspoken question.

“Bullet
wound,” he said matter-of-factly.

He must have
read the expression on my face because he quickly added, “Don’t worry. I didn’t
rob a bank and get in the middle of a shootout or anything like that. Can’t
even claim to be a war hero and injured in the line of duty. Nope. My brother
and I found my grandpa’s shotgun in his barn when I was about ten years old.
I’m lucky it didn’t actually take my head off.”

“I thought
it looked serious.” I sat up and took my sunglasses off to get a closer look.
“Looks like a lot of little scars around it.”

“Shrapnel
from the blast.” He towel-dried his hair. “Still bothers me sometimes. Even
after all these years.”

“I had a
friend once who was shot. Grazed his rib cage and ended up in his side. I
remember him occasionally mentioning that it bothered him.”

I was
referring to the time Grizz got shot. We’d been living at the motel then, and
he’d come home with a bullet in his side. This was about six months before he
got stitches in his head for smacking into one of the planters I’d hung outside
our door. Yes, I was familiar with serious wounds and had seen Grizz stitched
up on many occasions, though I didn’t tell Alec any of this.

“Not
unusual,” Alec said casually as he bent over the cooler to get a drink. “I
asked my doctor once if it was a phantom pain. He told me it was more likely
the nerves that got damaged didn’t heal correctly. The doctors did all they
could do to repair them, but it’s not a guarantee. Sometimes they kick in and
do their own thing. It’s not really painful anymore, more like I’m aware that I
was hurt there. Is that how your friend described it?”

I didn’t
answer him, saved by the rest of the troop who had made their way out of the
water and were asking for towels.

The sound of
the phone being returned to its base brought me out of my daydream, and I stood
up. Self-consciously, I tugged at my skirt, as if pulling on it could bring it
closer to my knees. I hadn’t given any thought to running into someone other
than possibly Eileen at Tommy’s office. I knew my response sounded lame, but I
came up with the best excuse I could think of.

“I’m
supposed to meet a new client later. Thought I’d stop in to see Tommy
first...since my new client is near here and all.”

I looked at
the floor. I was the worst liar in the world, and I knew it, and obviously Alec
did too. I could see in his eyes he knew exactly the reason I was there. I was
certain I turned beet red.

He shook his
head. “The lucky bastard is out with Eileen. She was having some car trouble,
and he offered to ride along with her to some repair shop. That’s why his car
is still outside.”

“Oh. Well, I
guess I’ll just be heading out then. Can you tell him I came by? I wanted to
take him to lunch before my meeting.” I didn’t mention that before taking my
husband to lunch, I was going to lock his office door, pull the fancy blinds
closed and give him the hottest sex he’d ever experienced.

My cheeks
flushed, and I struggled to sound normal as I secretly prayed my carnal
intentions weren't so obvious. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Just that
I had a burning need to seduce Tommy, an insatiable need to feel him inside of
me. For lack of a better or more eloquent description, I was there to bang his
brains out and then take him to a restaurant, where I wanted to convince him
over a quick lunch to check into a motel for another hour instead of going back
to work. It could all be wrapped up in time for me to be home when Jason got
off the school bus.

Alec stood
there with his hands in his pockets and looked at me sideways with a grin.

“I’m no
replacement,” he held up his hands, “but I would be more than happy to take a
pretty lady to lunch. That is, if she would do me the honor of her company.”

I smiled and
relaxed. This was Alec. Our friend. A happily married father of two.

“Of course.
I’d love to have lunch with you. Thank you for asking me.”

He held his
arm out to me. “But if he shows up and sees your car, you won’t be able to
surprise him later.”

I agreed to
drive and steered him toward my parking spot.

At Alec’s
suggestion, we ended up at Bella Roma’s, a small but excellent Italian
restaurant on the ocean side of A1A just a little north of the office.

“We don’t
need to go someplace so fancy for lunch, Alec. Seriously. I’d be just as happy
with Denny’s.”

“I invited
you. And besides, we can’t let you be all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

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