Against The Odds (Anna Dawson #1) (32 page)

No. He would have been ready. That was why he’d so easily agreed to come and stay here when I’d suggested it. How fortunate for a hunter to be under the same roof as his prey.

As the bag unwrapped and I could grab the towel and gun out from it, I heard Jack’s voice. “Drop the gun, Saul.”
 

I didn’t know if Jack had fully entered the room or if he was protecting himself with the glass door and side of the house.

The only thing I heard was the harsh sound of my breathing. Had Saul surrendered to Jack? Was he even now being handcuffed?

I slid out of the bathtub, staying low to the ground, inching my way to the door.

“Stay in the bathroom, Johanna,” Jack called out. I stayed.

“I mean it, Saul. I don’t want to hurt you. Just drop the gun.”

“No, Jack,” Saul said, determination in his voice. “I can’t.”

“I know you don’t want to hurt Hannah, Saul.”

“I didn’t Jack. I never intended for her to be involved in this.”

I noticed he didn’t say he wouldn’t kill me now, though. Now that I knew everything. But Saul had to know that the jig was up. No way was he going to be able to go through both Jack and me, both armed, to get to Ben.

I heard the moment he figured it out, his loud sigh carrying through the door to the bathroom. “I’ll tell you what, Jack,” Saul said.

“No, Saul, I’ll tell you—” Something must have happened to stop Jack. I was at the door now, and I opened it a crack. Saul had lifted the gun to his own head.

“Don’t do it, Saul. It’s not that bad. We can figure this out.”

Saul’s move didn’t sit right with me. I knew he would have killed me in order to carry out his warped mission of vengeance. And he loved me.

Killing himself before he was able to tell Ben about his lost child and avenge Rachael was not in his game plan.

“He’s bluffing,” I said. I started to rise. As I did the Terrible Towel finally fell away from the gun that had in most likelihood killed Danny. I aimed it at Saul.

A look of resolve crossed Saul’s face.

Jack kept his gun on Saul, but his eyes quickly moved to me, took in the Towel, the gun and my fierce determination.

“Put the gun down, Johanna,” Jack said.

“He’s bluffing, Jack.”

“It doesn’t matter. Put the gun down.” There was a steeliness in his voice that I had never heard before.

“I’m going to do it, Jack,” Saul said, ignoring me and the gun I had aimed at him. “I killed Danny. I have nothing to live for. I can’t live out the rest of my days in a prison.”

Both Jack and I didn’t move our guns, both still aimed at Saul.

“Give me one last request, Jack.”

“Put the gun down, Saul, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Let me tell Ben I’m sorry that I shot at him. Let me seek forgiveness from my friends.”

“No,” I said sharply.

“Put the gun down, Saul, and then we can talk about it. You know I can’t let Ben in here with you holding a gun.”

“But you won’t bring him in without it, either, will you?” He kept the gun to his head.

It was a classic Mexican stand-off, and we could have stood that way forever. And then I heard the unmistakable sound of Ben’s walker coming down the hallway. Of course he would have heard the shot from Saul.

“Hannah, darling, are you here? Are you all right?” Ben called from down the hallway. The squeak of the metal along the ceramic tile sending shivers down my spine.

“Ben, stay away. Go back. I’m fine.”

“Ben,” Saul called. “Ben. I need you.”

“Stay back, Ben. Don’t come in here,” I yelled, raising my gun at Saul. “Shut up, Saul.”

“Put the gun down, Johanna,” Jack said his own gun never leaving Saul. “Go back into the bathroom.”

“Like hell,” I said.

“Ben, hurry, Ben,” Saul cried out, his eyes dancing with vengeance. He looked at me, a smile crept up his face. A face so distorted with hatred I barely recognized it. “Hannah needs you, Ben.”

Ben’s walker was closer now, nearly to the door. Ben would never believe Saul was who killed Danny, not without proof, so yelling that out wasn’t going to stop him. “No, Ben, please, go away.” I tried to control my voice, but the fear in it came through and I heard Ben’s shuffle speed up so that he was outside the door.

Jack had moved closer to the door that Ben was approaching. “Saul, drop the gun or I’ll shoot,” he said. But I knew he wouldn’t, at least not while Saul still had the gun pointed to his own head. He was only an imminent threat to himself.

But I knew something Jack didn’t. That nothing in this world was going to stop Saul from killing Ben.

“Ben, please,” I whispered, my throat going closed as I saw the doorknob start to turn.

I looked at Jack who had not taken his eyes off of Saul. He tightened his hand on the trigger of the gun.

I looked at Saul, who began to smile as he saw the doorknob slowly turn. He moved so quickly, his gun coming away from his head and toward the door.

A gunshot rang out.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

J
ack moved quickly to me, took the gun out of my hand.

The gun with which I’d shot Saul.

“Stay out, Ben,” Jack said. He’d already moved to the door, shutting it just as Ben was opening it. He kicked the gun Saul had held away from Saul’s fallen body, across the room. “Everything’s okay. Hannah’s okay. I need you to call 911. Can you do that?”

“Saul? Hannah?” Ben cried out from behind the door.

I started to go to him, but would have had to step over Saul’s body. Jack’s hand up stopped me as well. “I’m fine, Ben,” I called out. “Jack’s right. It’s okay. Just go call 911.” I heard the shuffling of his walker retreating down the hallway.

There was a phone on Saul’s bedside table. My cell was in my pocket. And I assumed Jack probably had a phone on him or some kind of police radio. But calling 911, getting him away from this room, was what would be best for Ben.

He didn’t need to see Saul’s body. And then the body moved. Groaned.

Dear God, I hadn’t killed him.
 

I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
 

Jack moved to Saul’s side, knelt down, pushed Saul’s shirt back, inspecting the wound. He turned to me and gave a small shake of his head. Saul wasn’t going to last.

“Ben,” Saul croaked out.

Even now, as the man lay dying, my protective instincts for Ben held fast.

“Don’t let Ben in here. Don’t let him anywhere near Saul,” I said to Jack. I didn’t really think Jack would lead a parade of people back here, but I knew Ben would try to see his friend after calling 911, and that could not happen.

Yes, Saul was disarmed, and dying, but his words to Ben could be, would be, well…mightier than the sword.

“I won’t,” Jack said. He looked around the room, started to scrub his hand across his face then realized he was holding a gun in each one. “Jesus, Johanna. Why the hell didn’t you just go back into the bathroom?” He moved to where he’d kicked Saul’s gun. He picked it up carefully and put it, and the one I’d shot Saul with down on the bed on the other side of the room. He hung on to his own.

“What a fucking mess,” he said looking at me, and then Saul’s body. “I wasn’t going to let him hurt Ben,” he said. “You should have let me handle it.”

I shrugged. On some level I knew that. But I’d been taking care of Ben for a long time, and it seemed only fitting that I be the one to take care of him now.

“But you didn’t trust that I would, right?” Jack said.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that—”

“Just like you won’t trust me to help you with whatever trouble your gambling got you into.”

“Jack, I…” But what could I say. There was some truth to his words.

 
Saul groaned again and I moved to him, dropped to my knees. Emotions warred inside me. I’d loved this man and he was in pain. Pain I had caused him.

But he was obviously not the same man who had been my friend for the past ten years.

I cradled Saul’s head in my lap. “I’m sorry, Saul,” I said. And I was. Not sorry that I’d shot him, not if it meant saving Ben. But sorry that it had come to that.

“Hannah,” Saul whispered. “Ben?”

“He’s out in the front of the house calling for an ambulance for you Saul. Just hold on,” I said, though I knew an ambulance wouldn’t be able to help Saul.

“So,” he said, his voice holding more New York than normal. “He won’t pay for what he did to my Rachael.”

“He paid, Saul,” I said. “You all paid. You. Rachael. Ben. You all made mistakes. And you all paid.”

“Not enough,” he said his strength draining from him, but the fury still in his voice. A gurgle of blood came up as he coughed. I wiped it away with my sleeve.

“Stop, Saul. Save your strength.”

Jack stepped over to us then. Saul looked up, his eyes focusing on Jack. He smiled at Jack, but the effort it took cost him. He coughed again, his whole body wracking with a shudder. “Ah, but I won in the end,” Saul said still looking at Jack.

He slowly turned his head from Jack, reluctantly, as if he didn’t want to take his eyes off him, who was surely no threat to Saul now.

He craned his neck to look up at me. “I won, Hannah. Because Ben will never know his child. He took my Rachael, but I took away his child.”

“Oh, Saul,” I said. I was trying to think of what else to say, what would ease his tortured soul when the light went out of his eyes.

M
oments later it seemed, although I’m not sure how long I actually sat there holding Saul’s limp head in my lap, Detective Botz eased me away.

The room was filling with policemen. I was handed over to a uniformed officer. Detective Botz turned to Jack.

“What the hell happened?”

Jack shrugged. “It was Saul all along. All of it. Some kind of vendetta but I don’t have all the details yet. Ms. Dawson was alone with him for quite a while, so I’m assuming she has the entire story.”

I nodded.

“And you had to shoot him?” Frank Botz said to his partner.

I prepared myself. At least Ben was safe. Lorelei would look after him if I had to go in for questioning, or was charged with killing Saul. The slush fund would have to be raided to afford a high-priced lawyer, but I’d probably walk. It just might take a while.

“Ms. Dawson shot him.” Jack said and the policemen all turned to me. The patrolman assigned to me, slowly reached out and put his hand around my upper arm.

Jack took a deep breath, let it out. “Saul had turned his gun on her,” Jack lied. “It was an act of self defense.”

The patrolman let go of my arm, motioned for me to leave the room. As I passed Jack, I stopped. Jack nodded for the patrolman to go ahead and he did. Frank turned his back on us and walked to the other side of the room.

“That’s not exactly how it happened,”
 
I whispered.

He looked back at me, his brown eyes warm. “No, but if I explained how it went down there’d be a lot more questions and reports than there’s already going to be. You were right. Sometimes you need to bend the rules.”

I nodded and started to leave the room—now the crime scene—anxious to get to Ben, who must have been going crazy out in the living room where some other policemen were waiting with him.

But something occurred to me, and I turned back to Jack.

“How did you know? How did you know to come back? I was so careful. I didn’t want to put anybody else in danger.”

He raised a brow at me and a feeling of…hope?…rushed through me. “I told you in Pittsburgh, Johanna…you have a tell.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

T
hree days later—three very long days—I got dressed for Saul’s funeral.

I put on one of my stylish black suits that normally only came out of my closet for final table television appearances.

They were getting entirely too much use in the last month with first Danny’s funeral and now Saul’s.

Lorelei and I debated holding a funeral for Saul. He had no family left, we were the only ones that would have done it. I didn’t want to, still pissed at Saul, but Lorelei felt it would be good closure for all of us. Especially for Ben, who had nearly fallen apart when he learned about Saul’s motives.
 

We talked to the rabbi, found out Saul would not be allowed to be buried in the Jewish cemetery. So in the end, we decided to have Saul cremated and planned a memorial service of sorts. It wouldn’t be at the Jewish funeral home, but a non-denominational one.
 

But we would be there. To say goodbye.

I’d spent a fair amount of time in the last three days talking with the police, though Jack and I had never been alone together…probably by choice on his part.

I’d told them what Saul had told me about Danny dying. And that had been confirmed first by the coroner and then by Danny’s physician that he’d told Danny that he was indeed dying. The dates matched up with Saul’s story.