Destroyed by Lies

DESTROYED BY LIES

Katie McKnight

Mainstream Romance

http://www.katie-mcknight-author.com/

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Mainstream Romance

Destroyed by Lies

Copyright © 2015 Katie McKnight

E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-590-4

First E-book Publication: June 2015

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Edited by Theresa Stillwagon

Proofread by Courtney Karmiller

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my husband Bill McKnight.

Thank you for NOT inspiring any portion of this story.

We’ve created a beautiful family together.

I am so lucky to have a wonderful support system.

Thank you to all of my family and friends for your love and support. Special thanks goes to:

Mom, Leigh-Anne, Andrew, Sue R., Barbara E., Michele C., Linda T., Kim K., and Erin M.

Much love to the best editing staff, Theresa Stillwagon and Ariana Gaynor.

DESTROYED BY LIES

Katie McKnight

Prologue

A flash of light followed the blast. Horror crossed the faces of three nurses conversing in the hallway. Their heads swiveled from side to side searching for a place to hide. One ducked behind a couch in the waiting room, while the other two slipped into a utility closet.

A dark-haired nurse, who discussed test results with a patient a moment earlier, disappeared behind the nurses’ station. Staff dragged patients into rooms, slamming doors behind them. A nurse ushered visitors and a few patients out the front door of the facility.

A heavy-set man ran up behind an elderly woman, walking with the aid of a cane, and lifted her into his arms. She kicked and screamed in an attempt to get away. The man covered her mouth with his hand and ran outside the building.

Stewart watched the commotion and listened to the concerto of screams and crying from his chair in the waiting room. He had the option to fight or flee, but could not get his body to cooperate. Instead, he sat, frozen in place.

Oh my God! someone screamed.

Don’t!

Please…no.

A second shot rang out.

No, a familiar voice shrieked.

A third blast resonated, followed by silence.

Stewart hoisted himself from the seat and ran to a nearby coat closet. He ducked inside, crouching close to the ground. Peering through one of the door slats, he kept an eye on the room containing his family members. It was the only room with the door still ajar. His eyes widened in terror. Why aren’t they protecting themselves?

The muscles in his chest tightened. He wanted to run to his family, but couldn’t muster the strength his legs needed to move. I have to get to them.

He pulled himself to his feet, grabbed the doorknob, and inhaled a deep breath. Once he found the courage, he pushed the door open and ran out. The possibility of coming face-to-face with the shooter frightened him less than losing his family. He couldn’t imagine life without his wife and couldn’t live with himself if she died while he hid like a coward.

A shadow blocked the sunlight streaming out of Tom’s room into the hallway. Get back inside, he screamed. Barricade the door!

Shut up! Someone hiding behind the couch scolded him. Are you trying to get us killed?

Fear raced through his body. He stopped, backed into the closet and shut the door, scolding himself for his cowardice. Peering through the door slats once again, he watched the shadow grow. Don’t. Come. Out. Close the door before the shooter finds you. This time, he could not find the courage to warn his family.

Tara appeared from Tom’s room and staggered into the waiting room. Other than a splatter of red covering her left cheek, her face lacked color. Stewart left the safety of the closet and ran to her.

Tara, he whispered. Get down before he sees you.

Stewart dragged Tara into the closet and shut the door. He peeked through the slats one more time to make sure the shooter didn’t follow her. He didn’t want to, probably would never forgive himself, but he would push her out of the closet before he sacrificed himself. His family needed him. He couldn’t sacrifice himself for her.

Tara turned and faced him. Even in the darkened space, he could see her mouth hanging open and blood staining the front of her pink shirt. The sight of her confused him. Why was she bleeding? Did the shooter prevent his family from receiving medical help? Was the shooter with his family? The possibility caused his mouth to grow dry.

He turned his attention back to Tara. She looked at her bloody hands and muttered unintelligently. Her wide eyes looked crazy.

Gun…shot…hurt… she muttered to herself. Can’t stop bleeding…hurt…help.

He couldn’t decipher her words. Couldn’t determine if she was hurt or she had inflicted pain on someone else. If she hurt his family, he’d kill her.

Tara. He grasped her shoulders and shook her. Where are the others?

When she didn’t answer, he slapped her. Her vacant eyes met his. I need a doctor! She grabbed his shirt and screamed. Get a bunch of doctors.

A moment later, her eyes closed and her body fell to the floor.

Chapter One

Five Months Earlier

Tara Steffen’s eyes shot open shortly before sunrise. A dream about her husband jolted her awake. She felt around the bed for the cordless phone, but couldn’t find it in the dark. Worried she slept through Tom’s call, she turned the lamp on, allowed her eyes a moment to adjust to the light, and then searched until she found the phone hidden beneath the covers. The caller-identification screen confirmed she hadn’t missed his call. She flung the phone, causing it to bounce off the bed and hit the floor.

Call me back, she pleaded the evening before when he told her he had to cut their conversation short. I still don’t have your flight information.

I promise to call you as soon as I’m finished speaking with my sergeant.

It annoyed her that he either forgot, or didn’t care enough, to get back to her. While she understood his commitment to the United States Army took precedence, this trip was a huge deal for them. She honored his wishes and rarely initiated phone calls while he was on duty. The least he could do was follow up on the times she needed him.

She slid her hand through her hair and contemplated her next move. Tom’s evasiveness over the past few weeks concerned her. It wasn’t that she believed Tom would ever intentionally ruin their anniversary cruise; she simply couldn’t risk another military mission getting in the way of family time. She considered confronting Tom about his dubious behavior, but feared the act would ruin their trip. She wouldn’t risk a fight. At the same time, he did insist on booking his own airline tickets. She deserved to know his arrival time so she could arrange to meet him at the pier.

Brushing concern aside, she retrieved the phone from the floor and dialed Tom’s phone number. If her call angered him, she would say…she would tell him…she wasn’t sure what she would say. I need to grow a backbone before I stand up to him. She bit the corner of her manicured fingernail. I could cry. Tom softens when I cry.

Tom’s cell phone rang several times before voicemail picked up. A dozen nasty thoughts ran through her mind while she waited for his outgoing message to end. For once, she wanted to leave a message on his voicemail that worried him. The moment the beep rang in her ear, permitting her to leave a message, her courage evaporated.

Call me. I’m worried about you, she said and hung up.

In an effort to calm her nerves, Tara gathered some of her daughter’s favorite toys and packed them in a duffle bag. She expected her mother to arrive moments before she had to leave for her trip and she couldn’t risk a last minute hunt for toys.

She then made her bed, took a shower, applied makeup, and dried her hair. She wanted to fasten her hair into a loose knot against her head, but knew Tom liked her strawberry-blonde locks to cascade down her back.

Over the hum of the hair dryer she heard a faint ringing sound. She dropped the brush and hair dryer on the counter and hurried out of the bathroom. To her dismay, the caller hung up without leaving a message. The call originated from a police station in York, Pennsylvania. She tapped the receiver against her chin, trying to figure out if she knew anyone in Pennsylvania. No one came to mind, so she replaced the phone receiver into its cradle and returned to the bathroom to finish her hair.

Afterward, she removed a floral print sundress and a polka-dot dress from her closet and examined them. She could not decide which dress she liked better the day she bought them and still couldn’t decide. All she knew was she couldn’t afford to keep both dresses.

I like the floral dress, Margie said.

Tara’s hand flew to her chest and she let out a high-pitched squeal. Mom, you scared me. What are you doing here?

I’m here to watch Lilly so you and Tom can go on your cruise. Margie rolled her eyes.

I didn’t expect you this early. She took a deep breath, hoping it would slow her heart rate.

I finished my errands earlier than expected. Rather than return home for an hour, I let myself in. Margie waved the key to Tara’s apartment in front of her face. Wear the orange beaded flip-flops. They match the dress perfectly.

Tara nodded, stared at the polka dotted dress, decided she didn’t want to return either dress, and slipped it into her suitcase. Tom will kill me if he finds out how much money I spent on clothing for this trip.

He instructed her not to buy anything new, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t have enough clothing to outfit herself for the weeklong cruise, not unless she brought the worn out outfits in her dresser drawers, and that wasn’t going to happen.

I’ve already paid the credit card bill. Consider it an anniversary gift. I don’t want you to pay me back.

You are forever helping me with Lilly. I am not one of those people who take advantage of their parents. I promise to pay you back.

Margie waved away the idea. Finish getting ready. I’ll wake Lilly.

Tara slid into her new dress and admired herself in the full-length mirror nailed to the back of her bedroom door. She regretted not working harder to shed at least ten pounds in time for the cruise, but refused to dwell on something she couldn’t change. On the other hand, the time she spent at the tanning salon was worth it. Her sun-kissed skin looked great against the new dress. She spun side to side to admire herself. The only thing left to do was add more cover up to her face. Thanks to the UV rays she soaked in, her freckles were prominent. The last thing she wanted was to spend the day deciphering Tom’s cryptic comments.

"Wow, your freckles are three dimensional, he told her the day of their wedding. When she questioned the remark later that evening, he dismissed her concern. I made an observation, he responded with an eye roll. Please don’t allow your insecurities to ruin our wedding night."

She shook her head, forcing the memory out of her brain.

Good morning, Mommy. Lilly stood in the doorway of her mother’s room dressed in a princess nightgown and holding her favorite teddy bear.

Would you like pancakes? Tara asked, scooping her five-year-old daughter into her arms.

The girl nodded.

Tara lowered Lilly to the ground and together they walked into the kitchen. Margie pulled one chair away from the table for Lilly’s teddy bear and a second chair for the girl.

Why can’t I go with you? she asked.

Your mom and dad are celebrating their anniversary, Margie explained. Children don’t belong on that vacation.

Tara slid an apron over her head to protect her dress. She then combined pancake mix, eggs, and milk into a large bowl.

Are you leaving me home because I ruined your honeymood?

Tara’s eyes knitted together and her mouth hung open. She walked over to the table and crouched down next to Lilly’s chair. Who told you that?

Daddy said that I ruined your honeymood. Lilly used her hand to push her dark, unruly hair away from her face.

That’s not true. She placed her hand on Lilly’s face and kissed her cheek. When did he tell you that?

He told Grandma I made you sick.

Margie shook her head when Tara looked to her for an explanation.

"I was sick on my honeymoon, but it wasn’t your fault."

Tommy Dewhurst coughed on Ms. Jensen last week. A couple of days later she started coughing and thanked Tommy for making her sick. I thought maybe I did the same thing to you. Lilly rested her elbow on the table and leaned her face against her pudgy fist. I promise not to cough on you if you let me go on vacation.

You didn’t make me sick, Tara told her daughter. You were in my tummy. Carrying a baby in your tummy makes you tired. Tara lifted her daughter off the chair and sat down, settling Lilly on her lap.

Daddy lied? Lilly’s eyes grew wide in incredulity.

He made a mistake, Margie corrected her.

You could never ruin anything for Daddy and me.

Can I go with you?

Not this time, sweetie. It’s a mommy-and-daddy-only vacation.

Lilly sighed. I’m going to miss you, Mommy.

I’m going to miss you too. Tara swallowed the lump forming in her throat and hugged her daughter. You and Grandma will have fun.

Lilly moved her mouth close to Tara’s ear. I have more fun with you.

Guilt pushed its way into Tara’s chest, in between excitement and annoyance. I have more fun with you too. You accept me for who I am.

* * * *

Tara arrived at the dock a little after eleven in the morning. She checked her luggage with the curbside porter and walked to the waiting room. Calls to Tom’s phone continued to go to voicemail.

The only piece of information she did have about his trip was the name of the airline carrier. According to their flight schedule, Tom should have caught a seven a.m. flight out of Dallas-Fort Worth. She estimated travel to the amount of time it would take him to trek from JFK Airport to the pier and projected he would arrive just in time to board the ship.

Content with this information, Tara settled into a gray plastic chair and searched her tote bag for the romance novel she borrowed from the library. Years had passed since the last time she read. She thought tending bar during afternoon hours would afford her plenty of time to read. Little did she know that old men lined up eager for the clock to strike noon and most of the men coveted the stools until dinner time. After work, she completed laundry, helped Lilly with homework, cooked dinner, and cleaned up. By the time she settled Lilly into bed for the night, she was lucky to stay awake long enough to set her alarm clock.

Tara sat in the bustling terminal re-reading the first page of the book, wishing she would retain the information. Before long, the room overflowed with families waiting to board the ship. Two young boys tossed a foam ball in the aisle next to her, adults conversed in loud voices, and a baby, across the way, screamed in protest when his mother refused to remove him from the carriage. The disruption made it difficult to concentrate and eventually she returned the book to her bag.

Her cell phone chimed, indicating an incoming text. She tore it from her purse only to learn the text originated from the airline she believed Tom used to book his flight. The flight from Texas had arrived in New York. She deleted the message and dialed Tom’s cell phone. Once again, her call went to voicemail. It was bad enough she couldn’t speak to her husband anytime she wished, but thirteen hours without a word from him was unfair. The thought of something ruining this trip caused anxiety to grow in her chest.

Tara walked to a beverage cart provided by the cruise line and poured herself a cup of coffee. While she sipped the warm liquid, she stared out the window watching the crew wash and polish sliding glass doors and balcony windows. A few men stood on the dock scrubbing the side of the ship. Others wheeled large metal containers on board. She recognized the containers as refrigeration units. Lilly’s school used the same system in the cafeteria where Tara volunteered in exchange for lower tuition.

Unable to stand the flutter of anxiety in her chest, she dialed her mother’s number.

Please let me go on vacation with you. Lilly cried.

The tears caused Tara’s heart to ache. Please don’t cry, baby. I promise we will do something fun next week.

Tara was happy she placed the call before Tom arrived because he wouldn’t have had the patience to deal with the drama. Her friends promised that once she had a drink in her hand, Lilly would become a distant memory. Tara wasn’t so sure. Unlike her friends’ husbands, Tom didn’t work a nine-to-five job. He spent most of the year away from home, so she and Lilly were dependent upon one another.

Give Grandma the phone, Margie commanded.

I’m talking to Mommy.

Tara heard shuffling before Margie came on the line. You’ve waited a long time for this vacation. Go and enjoy yourself. Lilly didn’t shed a tear until you called.

Thank you, Mom, Tara told her. The ship doesn’t sail until four this afternoon. Call if you need me.

I won’t need you. Enjoy your vacation.

Ship personnel called guest numbers, inviting families to board the ship. Tara had a difficult time hearing her mother so she ended the conversation and returned to the hard plastic chair to play a game on her tablet. The challenge of beating the falling candy held her attention until she ran out of turns. There were only a handful of guests left in the waiting room when crew members called her boarding number. She paced in front of the window overlooking the parking lot. Each time a taxi pulled up, she stopped and stared expectantly at the passenger door, only to be disappointed when Tom didn’t depart.

An hour after Tom’s expected arrival time, Tara paced the floor while she envisioned screaming at him, or even better, punching him when he arrived. I will never forgive him if he doesn’t arrive in time.

Is everything all right? A staff member asked after monitoring her for a few minutes.

I’m waiting for my husband to arrive, she told the woman.

Would you like to use our phones to call him?

Tara’s cell phone rang. This must be him. She smiled and raised the phone to her ear. Tom? Where are you? I’m freaking out.

Mrs. Steffen? An unfamiliar voice replied.

Yes.

This is Officer Casey from the York Police Department in Pennsylvania. I’m calling regarding Thomas Francis Steffen.

Her heart raced, causing her head to spin. Yes. She lowered herself into a nearby chair. Is something wrong?

Your husband was involved in a car accident late last night.

* * * *

Tara hopped into a cab. During the drive to her Long Island apartment, she dialed the hospital using the number the police officer provided. The nurses in the Intensive Care Unit connected her to Doctor Najami, the resident on call.

How is my husband? Tara asked.

He incurred brain trauma during the accident, the doctor explained.

How serious is the injury?

The accident has caused brain swelling and bleeding, Doctor Najami told her. We’re administering medication to reduce the swelling.

Tara pinched her nose with her fingers. Will he be okay?

The next forty-eight hours will be crucial in his recovery.

Tara slid her hand through her hair, pinning it back with her fingers. I’m three hours away. Tears stung her eyes. You don’t expect he’ll…he’s going to make it through this, right doctor?

He’s in critical condition, Mrs. Steffen, but his vitals are stable at the moment.

The situation did not make sense to Tara. My husband lives in Texas. Are you sure you’re calling about the right person?

Is your husband, Thomas Francis Steffen?

Yes, she responded.

Are you Tara Steffen?

Yes.

Your husband arrived last night without identification. Let me find out where we got your phone number? Papers shuffled in the background. He inhaled a breath of air. Here it is. Bradley Langston provided us with your contact information. Do you know Mister Langston?

She released the air trapped in her lungs at the sound of his name. Any possibility this was a case of mistaken identity dissipated. Brad was Tom’s superior officer. If he arrived last night, why didn’t someone call me sooner?

The shuffling of papers continued. According to these records, police attempted to reach your home number several times this morning. An officer visited your house about an hour ago.

The missed call from the York Police Department entered her mind. I left my apartment early this morning. Tara moaned. My husband and I were supposed to leave on a cruise today.

I’m happy we got in touch with you.

How did Tom wind up in Pennsylvania? Thank you, doctor. Please call me if there are any changes to his condition.

Tara then called her mother-in-law. Charlotte Steffen did not take the news of her son’s accident well. Tara felt guilty telling her the news over the phone, but time did not allow for her to tell her in person.

I’m leaving for Pennsylvania in one hour. Throw some things in a bag, she instructed. I’ll pick you up along the way.

A third phone call was made to her mother. While Tara expected Charlotte would accompany her to Pennsylvania, she did not intend for her mother to ride along.

What if something happens to him? Margie asked when Tara requested that she stay home with Lilly. Lilly has the right to say goodbye to her father.

Stop being negative, Mom.

Unfortunately, you need to consider the possibilities. Besides, your car will never make it to Pennsylvania. We’ll take mine.

Tara knew it was a waste of time to argue with her mother. Once Margie Bartel set her mind to something, there was no changing it.

Tara paid the cab driver and hurried up the stairs to her apartment. She was unable to retrieve her luggage from the cruise line without waiting at least an hour for them to locate it. Instead, she left her phone number and address with the staff. They promised to send the suitcase to her once it was located.

She hurried into her bedroom and threw a few short sets into a bag. In a second bag, she packed pajamas, shorts, and T-shirts for Tom. She then grabbed the credit card they used for emergencies and slipped it into her purse, followed by a box of cookies for Lilly to snack on during the ride.

A second call to the hospital confirmed Tom’s condition remained the same. The doorbell rang while she was on the phone. Without checking to see whom the visitor was, Tara swung the door open and walked into the bedroom.

Let me grab my bags and we’ll go, she told her visitor after the call ended. Is Lilly in the car alone? She reappeared to find her sister standing inside the apartment. Jenn! She exclaimed. I thought you were Mom.

Jennifer wore black bike shorts, a pink tank top, and running sneakers. She had her blonde hair tied into a ponytail and her bangs plastered against her forehead. Tara figured Margie placed a frantic phone call to Jenn, interrupting her exercise routine.

It’s me, sweetie. How are you holding up?

Tara shrugged. I spent the morning angry with him for not returning my phone call and for putting me second. An accident was the furthest thing from my mind.

Don’t blame yourself. Anyone in your position would be angry. You were excited about your trip. He has messed up plans in the past.

Tara nodded. I was home when the police called. They didn’t leave a message and I didn’t call them back. Who knew Tom was in Pennsylvania? She slipped the duffle bags onto her shoulders and headed for the door. Pray he survives.

I’ve already said a prayer for him. Jenn hugged Tara. I am going to be by your side the entire time.

Tara hesitated. You’re coming along?

Jenn took the keys out of Tara’s trembling hands. Do you think I would allow you to go through this alone? I need one minute to change out of my sweaty clothes and clean myself up and then we’re on our way.

Thank you for coming. Tara hugged her sister.

We’re going to bring him home.

Chapter Two

The online directions estimated the ride would take four hours. The printout did not take into account the large number of Long Island residents escaping New York for the Memorial Day weekend.

Tara decided to keep Tom’s accident and his medical condition a secret from Lilly until they learned more about his prognosis. Instead, she