Ricochet (48 page)

“No, but then we wouldn’t, would we? See, we carefully check out the people who get close to us, Elise. We’re acutely paranoid, but that paranoia has proved to be a sound policy.”

“What gave me away?”

“You didn’t fit the mold. You were so eager to work at the White Tie and Tails, and yet you went against the stereotype. You aren’t a natural hustler, and it showed. In a business where a girl’s earnings depend on getting cozy with clients, you remained aloof and detached. Naturally, that aroused my curiosity, then my suspicion. I didn’t have to dig very deep to find your connection to Chet Rollins.”

She felt the weight of Duncan’s handgun in her purse in her lap, and wondered if she could get to it before Savich shot her. She had no doubt that he would. Eventually. Right now, he was enjoying himself too much.

“When I told Cato about your kinship with Rollins, he panicked. He thought you might have hard evidence against him related to your half brother’s demise. He wanted to… dispose of you right away, have you meet with a fatal accident on the highway after you left the club one night. But I talked him into waiting. You intrigued me. I wanted to watch and see what you did next.

“It soon became apparent that you had nothing on us except your suspicions. That you were after information, evidence,” he said, whispering the last word like it was a secret between them. “When you didn’t get it from me at the White Tie and Tails, you moved to the country club. With the express intention of meeting Cato. Am I right so far?”

She didn’t reply, but she didn’t have to.

“Here’s where the story takes an interesting turn. Up to this point, you were just a name to Cato. A threat. He wanted you dead. But after meeting you, he decided he preferred you alive. He thought what better way to keep an eye on you than to marry you, have you under his roof where he could watch you day and night, have you accountable to him. And, of course, he would have your delectable body at his beck and call. He could fuck you to his heart’s content.”

She flinched, which caused him to smile.

“Poor Elise. All those nights you spent with Cato were for nothing. You were never going to find anything near him linking the two of us because, as with all my partnerships, I’m the bookkeeper.”

She glanced at the computer on the credenza behind his desk.

He chuckled. “You’d never crack the firewalls, my dear, even if I let you try. The cruel irony is, if it was evidence you were after, you married the wrong partner. And now, you’ve made another unfortunate mistake.” His mouth formed a moue of regret. “It really is a shame I must kill you. Such a waste of beauty and—”

The hand aiming the pistol at her shattered in a spray of blood.

Savich bellowed in pain. His pistol clattered to the floor. Duncan, coming from behind her, vaulted the desk. He grabbed Savich’s ponytail, twisted his head to the side, and slammed it onto the desk. His cheekbone cracked upon impact, causing him to roar in outrage and pain. Duncan jabbed the barrel of his pistol against Savich’s temple, hard enough for the metal to create a depression in his skin.

Never taking his eyes off Savich, he shouted, “DeeDee!”

“Coming!”

Her voice echoed from the far side of the building and Elise heard running footsteps approaching. She bolted from her chair, but collided with the woman detective as she barreled through the door.

“Cover her,” Duncan ordered.

DeeDee Bowen, pistol drawn and aimed at Elise’s chest, backed her into the wall.

“Where in God’s name have you been?” Duncan barked.

“I climbed the fire escape and came through a window,” she answered, panting. “How’d you get up?”

“Stairwell.” He took his eyes off Savich long enough to glance at Elise. “She’s probably got my pistol.”

Elise dropped her handbag to the floor. “It’s in there.”

“Kick it away.”

Elise did as DeeDee instructed. The detective knelt down and felt the handbag until she located the gun, then stood up. “We’re okay,” she told Duncan.

“What about the secretary?” he asked.

“Handcuffed to the car door,” DeeDee replied. “He’s not going anywhere. I’ve called for backup.”

“Backup? How long ago?”

“What?”

“How long ago?”

“Uh, just before I ran up here. Why?”

“Shit!” he hissed.

Elise took a step forward. “Duncan, I—”

“Shut up! You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear, Mrs. Laird. The best thing you ever did for me, the
only
thing, is provide enough distraction for me to get to this piece of shit.” He ground the barrel of the pistol against Savich’s temple. “How does your gun hand feel now, Savich?”

Despite the pain he must be feeling, Savich’s voice was remarkably calm. “Is this about Meyer Napoli? If so, you’ve got a problem. Nobody’s going to believe Elise, you know. She’ll make an unreliable witness.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” Duncan said, shooting her a look of pure hatred.

“So you’re wasting your time,” Savich said.

“Hell if I am.”

“Very well.” He sighed with resignation. “Arrest me. I’ll spend the night in the comfort of the hospital.”

“Un-unh,” Duncan said. “I didn’t come here to arrest you. I came to get a confession, and I’m not leaving without it.” He pulled back the hammer on his revolver.

Savich laughed. “Oh, I’m scared.”

“Your confession or your brains, Savich. You get to choose, and there’s no door number three.”

“Duncan,” DeeDee said with uncertainty, “what are you doing?”

“Did I stutter? I’m going to get a confession from him. Either that, or it’s going to get messy in here.”

“You’d never pull that trigger, Hatcher,” Savich said with infuriating condescension. “We both know that.”

Duncan fired at the carafe on the edge of the desk, shattering the crystal into a thousand shards. Water splashed across the desk and onto the floor. Drops splattered on Savich’s face. In the small office, the .357 just as well could have been a cannon. The deafening blast caused a concussion in the room.

DeeDee recoiled, but she kept her pistol aimed at Elise. “What the hell?” she shouted. “Wait for backup, Duncan. They’ll be here soon. We’ll take him in, we’ll—”

“If you’ve got no stomach for this, DeeDee, you can leave and take Mrs. Laird with you.” His eyes and his pistol were still trained on Savich. “This is between him and me. I won’t be made a fool of again. Not by her, not by her husband, and for goddamn sure not by you.” On the last word, he poked the pistol barrel against Savich’s skull, bumping it against the bone. “Give it up, Savich. Freddy Morris. Andre Bonnet. Chet Rollins. Gordon Ballew. Sound familiar?”

“Fuck you.”

Duncan fired the pistol again, this time at the cabinet across the room, shattering the glass door. Then he shot out the globe of a wall sconce. The acrid smell of cordite filled the office. The noise was unbearable, but DeeDee could be heard above the reverberation, yelling, “Duncan, stop this! This isn’t the way! You’ve lost your head over
her
! This is about
her
. You’re angry over
her
.”

He paid no attention. Bending down, he placed his lips directly above Savich’s ear. “Tell me what I want to hear or you’re going to die.”

“You would never do it.”

They all heard the wail of sirens approaching, but the sound didn’t deter Duncan.

“Are you sure about that, Savich? Are you willing to bet your life on it? ’Cause that’s what you’re doing. I’ve got two bullets left. Count ’em. Two.”

“Duncan, for God’s sake,” DeeDee pleaded. “Don’t do it! You’ll ruin your career. Everything. Your life.”

“My life comes down to this.” He cast a bitter glance toward Elise. “I’ve got nothing to lose. Not anymore.” He dug the pistol into Savich’s temple. “Is this the way you killed Freddy Morris? Did he stink of fear the way you do?”

“I didn’t—”

Before he even completed the denial, Duncan fired the pistol into the desk. The wood splintered, leaving a jagged hole inches from Savich’s nose. “That leaves one.”

“You’re boring me, Hatcher,” Savich replied drolly.

“Tell me you did it, or your brain is mist!” Duncan yelled.

“Duncan, no!”

“DeeDee, I told you—”

“You can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can. I can kill him. Easy.”

“No.” DeeDee’s voice cracked with desperation as she whipped her pistol away from Elise and aimed it at Duncan. “I won’t let you.”

“What are you—”

“Drop your weapon, Duncan!”

“You wouldn’t—”

“Oh yes, I would.”

He stared at her aghast. “You’d shoot
me
?”

“I swear I will.”

The sirens grew louder. Tires screeched. Car doors slammed. Yet inside the office, time seemed to stand still.

“I can’t let him go,” Duncan said.

“For the last time, drop your weapon.”

“You’ll have to shoot me first.”

“Don’t make me do this,” DeeDee cried, tears in her voice.

“I’m gonna take this bastard.”

“Drop it, Duncan!”

“No freaking way.”

“
Duncan, don’t
!” DeeDee shouted.

“See you in hell, Savich.”

“All right, all right,” Savich screamed. “I… I did Morris.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than several uniformed officers, led by Detective Worley, barged into the room. “Shame on you, Savich. I think that means you’re in a world of hurt.”

The uniformed officers eddied around the desk and surrounded the criminal. Duncan tucked his pistol into his waistband, saying, “He needs an ambulance.” Then he rushed across the room to Elise and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you all right?”

She leaned against him and nodded shakily. “I didn’t expect him to pull a gun on me.”

“Christ, I should never have agreed to let you do this. If I’d been a few seconds later—”

She placed her fingers on his lips, so he wouldn’t complete the thought. “But you weren’t. I knew you’d be here.”

He hugged her tighter, then let her go abruptly and rounded on Worley. “You took fucking long enough! DeeDee was about to shoot me, and I was afraid she would while I was stalling and running out of bullets.”

“Hey, there was traffic,” Worley said defensively. “I was standing by, waiting for her call, just like you told me to do.”

DeeDee was looking at all of them with astonishment. But especially at Duncan. “Just like you told him to do? When? What the hell’s he talking about? What’s going on?”

Worley shifted his toothpick and said, “She’s ticked, all right. Have fun explaining, Dunk. I gotta follow up on that search warrant you asked for. Should be ready soon.” He stepped out of the office to use his cell phone.

DeeDee hadn’t taken her eyes off Duncan. “When did you call him?”

“From my house when I picked up the six-shooter.”

“You never intended to pull this off, just the two of us?”

He shook his head. “No, but I wanted you to think so.”

“Why?”

“In order for Savich to be convinced that I’d gone over the edge,
you
had to be convinced I had.”

“So you used me.”

“I relied on your professional integrity and adherence to the rules.”

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“It is bullshit,” he admitted. “I used you.”

“How could you not trust me?”

“But I did, DeeDee. I trusted you to do the right thing, and you did. I knew you’d call for backup. I had Worley standing by, ready to roll.”

She nodded toward Elise. “What about her?”

Duncan bent down and retrieved Elise’s handbag. “He searched me, but thankfully he didn’t check my bag,” she said as he withdrew a small tape recorder and passed it to DeeDee, who stared at it with bewilderment.

“My grandmother’s. But we checked it out and it works.” He turned to Elise. “I arrived in time to hear him talking about his partnership with Laird. What about Napoli?”

“That’s why he was about to kill me. He said it was more efficient to kill an eyewitness than to make a deal with one. Just like Napoli, I was a loose end he needed to tie up. It’s all on the tape.”

“Wait,” DeeDee said, holding up her hand. She was gaping at Elise with awe. “You came here and told Savich that you witnessed Napoli’s murder?”

“That was the plan. Duncan was against it.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

She gave him a soft smile, then said to DeeDee, “It was the only way. You mistrusted me from the start. Rather than try and persuade you otherwise, I talked Duncan into staging what would look like a double-cross. We counted on you believing that I had betrayed him to Savich.”

DeeDee assimilated that. “The argument between you two over who was the bigger fish, Laird or Savich, was also staged for my benefit?”

“As well as my heavy-handed encounter with Laird,” Duncan said. “Not that I didn’t enjoy having him by the balls.”

“How’d you know I would show up at your grandmother’s house today?”

“My mom left me a text message on my cell. She was second-guessing telling you where I was. I knew you’d show up. Elise and I had discussed how we would play it out when you did.”

DeeDee still looked resentful over being left in the dark, but there was also grudging admiration in her expression as she sized up Elise. “By coming to see Savich alone, you laid your life on the line.”

“Which I was willing to do. I have a stake in this, too, remember. My brother.”

“Yeah, but that took guts,” DeeDee said. “And frankly, I thought… well…”

“I know what you thought. And I understand.”

“All the same, I owe you an apology.”

“Not really. I’d given you absolutely no reason to trust me.”

DeeDee acknowledged Elise’s graciousness with a brusque nod, then turned to Duncan. “As for you,
partner
, you’re an asshole.”

Before he could take issue with that, he noticed that another officer was reading Savich his rights. “Hold on. I want to do the honors.”

Savich was still seated in his desk chair. He’d been handcuffed, but someone had wrapped a handkerchief around his bleeding hand. He was in obvious pain, but Duncan, thinking of the victims he had either terrorized or murdered, wasn’t moved to pity. He felt nothing except supreme satisfaction as he Mirandized him.