Every Move She Makes (44 page)

"Rocky?" I asked in rising panic. I started to turn.

The shock of cold metal on my neck stopped me.

"Sorry, Gillespie," Rocky said.

"What are you doing?"

But Rocky didn't answer.

"Your weapon, Inspector." Evan Hilliard relieved me of my weapon. "Now
the two of you turn around, slowly," he said to Rocky and me. We did,
and I saw Hilliard pointing my nine millimeter at us. The left pocket
of his suit coat hung with the weight of what I assumed was Rocky's
weapon. Rocky wasn't the sort to let down his guard, and I wondered how
Hilliard had managed to get the take on him. Me, I knew. I had been
wrapped up in trying to get Dex and Jos'e to give up. Hilliard motioned
to Dex. "Very slowly put your gun on the ground," he said as Dex bent
his knees, reaching downward. "Let go, nice and easy," he said, nodding.

"Stand up. Slide it to me with your foot. All the way." Dex shoved his
firearm with the toe of his shoe. It rattled across the floor, sliding
beneath the ladder. Hilliard eyed it, apparently figuring it was out of
reach for the moment. "Back to the other side of the ladder," Hilliard
told us. "Right there in the corner. Perfect."

"What's perfect?" I asked, noting the look of calculation in his eyes.

"How my lovely wife killed everyone in her quest to save her company
from her drug-running boyfriend." "For God's sake, Evan," Josephine
cried as she descended the ladder. "I never intended to kill anyone."

"Such a waste of life," he replied, paying little heed to her outburst.

"And all to prevent a scandal over Project Green. Into the corner,
Josephine. With the others." He shook his head at me. "And here I
figured you thought her little affair with Inspector Scolari's wife was
at the bottom of it." Dex tensed beside me, but he remained silent.

Hilliard, keeping his weapon trained on us, grabbed a file box with one
hand and pulled it from its shelf Papers flew everywhere as he tossed
the box in the air. He never took his gaze from us, and all we could do
was watch while he pulled a second box and repeated his actions. Time, I
told myself. We needed time. Help was on the way. But I didn't hear any
sirens. Nothing to indicate we were the focus of rescue efforts yet.

Hilliard threw a third box into the pile before us, then picked up one
of the containers of gas, spilling the contents onto our death pyre. the
smell of fuel assaulted my nostrils. My thoughts fragmented. Shards of
fear sliced through me. "You won't get away with this," I said, vaguely
aware of Dex standing next to me, Rocky and Josephine in the corner
beside us. We were trapped.

"Your lighter." He reached over the pile of papers toward his wife.

She didn't move.

He aimed the gun at her, his jaw clenching.

Josephine crumpled into a heap on the floor. The lighter as well as her
coveted folder slipped from her grasp. Papers drifted about her.

Hilliard leveled his pistol on me. "Pick up the lighter.

Or be the first to go." "Isn't that the file you're looking for?" I
asked, nodding to the Project Green papers.

He merely smiled.

"Of course," I said. "You must already have a copy. How else could you
prove the desperation of your wife to go to such extremes? Accidentally
torch the building?" His smile thinned, and he motioned for me to get
the lighter.

I picked it up. And saw Dex's gun beneath the ladder.

I could have easily tossed the lighter to Hilliard. Instead, I worked my
way around the gas-soaked files toward him. "That's why you had Dex kill
that PI," I said. "You told him that Project Green was a record of his
drug running, and the PI had read it." "The lighter, please." I held it
out. Enticing. I needed to get to the ladder.

"But you knew the PI was only interested in the seeds."

"Seeds?" Dex asked. A look of surprise, then sudden understanding came
over him. He glared at Hilliard. "You told me he was looking into the
drugs, the XTC coming from the lab."

"Did I?"

"You son of a bitch. You set me up."

"You screwed my wife." Dex charged him.

Hilliard raised my nine millimeter. Pointed it at Dex.

He fired.

Dex's body jerked back. My ears rang josie cried out. Blood stained the
pristine white shoulder of Dex's lab coat. Hilliard fired again. Dex
fell to the ground. "That's for turning my company into an illicit drug
haven." Everyone stated at Hilliard, too shocked to move. Everyone
except me. I wanted to get out of there alive. "It was always about the
seeds," I said, taking a step closer. "Project Green was your way of
keeping Dex in line. But you told josie a different story. That Project
Green would ruin your company. But it was always the seeds, wasn't it?"

Hilliard's eyes glittered triumphantly. "You killed Patricia because she
found out what they were. What you were trying to do." Keep Hilliard
talking. Play to his ego. "You knew MEL Paolini and Dex were running
drugs. You knew the only way to get out from under their control, to get
your wife back, was to sell your failing company," I said, judging the
distance between me and the ladder. Just a few more feet. "How fortunate
you found these seeds from the rain forest. Sent your stocks soaring.

Set the pharmaceutical world abuzz."

"And it worked," he said.

"Of course it did," I said, still holding out the lighter. I took
another step, as though I were about to hand it to him. "Montgard makes
synthetic cancer drugs. They wanted to buy your company. Have access to
the seeds."

"To destroy them," Hilliard said.

"Which would have suited you fine, until the PI discovered something
even more perverse," I said, edging closer. "The seeds they wanted so
badly were nothing. That's when you set up Dex." "I told him the PI was
looking into his drug operation. You couldn't let him report back to
Montgard. Not when they were about to pay millions for something you
could buy at the local nursery. Pokeweed. An herbal cancer remedy. Very
slick. How did you fool everyone?" "I used Montgard's own synthetic
drugs in my studies to skew the results. With a little computer work and
a few pokeweed seeds in a strange pod from the rain forest, it wasn't
difficult." As he spoke, Josephine sobbed and reached out to Dex's still
form. "Why? Why?" Hilliard smiled at his wife's distress. "Why? Look
around you, Josie. Why did Dex convince you to come in here and destroy
these files? He was using you to destroy evidence of his two-bit drug
trafficking." I took a couple more steps while his attention was
diverted to his wife. I held out the lighter, intending to throw it at
him, then dive for the gun. "Goodbye, josie," he said, kicking over the
remainiiig gas container. The top fell off and gasoline poured from the
opening.

"You sent the pizza," I said quickly. Keep him talking.

I needed to get the gun. But he never took his eyes off his wife. "How?"

I demanded. He spared me a glance. "Money buys more than happiness." And
then he shoved the gas can with his foot. If he was aiming for his
wife, he missed. the container spun toward me. It flew out like blades
from a helicopter. I felt the liquid hit my right leg, soaking into my
jeans. He aimed the gun at josephine.

"No," she sobbed. "Don't." Dex groaned.

"The lighter," I shouted, attempting to draw his attention. I threw it
at his face. He ducked as it flew past him. At the same time, I saw a
flash beside me. The gas ignited. Ripped across the floor. How? The
lighter lay twenty feet away on the floor. But a wall of flames roared
up, separating Hilliard and me from the others. Rocky jerked Josephine
away ', She screamed for Dex. Hilliard grabbed my arm and held the gun
to my head. "It's a shame I left my knife at home. I'd take as much
pleasure in slitting your throat as I did my wife's lover's." "How very
clever of you to make it look like a Slasher case, and throw everyone
off," I said, aware of the roar of fire, the heat, the smoke.

He sighed. "Now I'll be forced to play the grieving widower."

"From a jail cell." He drew me back, his mouth against my ear. "I'll
take you to hell with me first." "Not this time," I said. I jabbed him
with my elbow and twisted, nearly falling over Dex's legs. I glanced
down, saw Dex lying there, face ashen, his life's blood spreading across
the white concrete. Flames licked at his hand. A disposable lighter lay
at his fingertips. Dex had started the fire? Rocky stood on the other
side of the pyre in the corner with Josie. An inferno raged up the
shelves on my left. The air seemed to vibrate around us. Hilliard thrust
me toward the flames. He came after me. I rolled to the side. Groped
beneath the ladder for Dex's gun. Found it. I flipped to my back.

Screamed as Hilliard dove for me. I fired twice. Hilliard's face twisted
in pain. He stumbled back, fell to the floor. I kicked his weapon into
the flames.

Kept my own trained at his chest.

Through the gathering haze, I saw Rocky and Josephine pressed into the
corner, the fire closing in on them. I had to get them out. But how?

Sunlight poured in through the ceiling-high windows, illuminating the
smoke shrouded sprinklers that should have gone off, but didn't.

My gaze swung to the ladder.

It stood like a silver beacon at the edge of the flames.

Only Hilliard blocked my way. He saw the direction of my gaze.

He struggled to his feet. Hurled himself onto the ladder.

The fire blazed across his back. His scream pierced the air.

The image burned into my memory. Helpless. I was helpless. A file box
fell from the shelf. Sparks flew out as it hit the ground.

"Kate, get back!" Rocky called out.

I took a deep breath, jumped over the smoldering box. I grabbed the
ladder. The metal seared my palms. I couldn't move it.

The brake. I tried to dislodge Hilliard's body.

I rammed my boot heel into him. Tried to push him off. He slipped a
step, his head bounced on the metal. I heard a whoosh. Blue-yellow fire
engulfed my foot. I struck him again. He fell to the ground. I kicked at
the brake. Tugging my sleeves over my hands, I pulled the ladder, swung
it around, shoved it through the inferno near the wall.

"Here!" I heard a yell. Then pounding. Footfall.

I grabbed Dex's arms and scrambled back toward the door. Heat.

Unbearable. My right leg looked like a Roman candle. Kicking, I dropped
to the floor, ripped at the buttons on my jeans.

Crack.

I stared in horror at the shelves beside me, now a wall of flames. They
wavered, then crashed. I rolled to the wall. Pain shot through my leg.

"Kate!" Rain pelted.

Then blackness. he telephone," a woman's voice said. I opened my eyes To
see Nightingale, Nurse from Hell, standing in 'my doorway saying
something about the phone. Yeah, I thought. Can't have a phone.

Been there, done that. I'd hallucinated everything. It was all one
drug-induced nightmare from eating pizza. "I'll get it in a minute."

Torrance stood beside my bed, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Didn't
I tell you not to play hero?" Yep. Definitely hallucinating.