Shatter (39 page)

The cop restraining him dropped his free hand to Schaeffer’s wrist and swiftly twisted the man’s hand behind his back. Then grabbed the other and did the same. “Yes, she does.”

Schaeffer howled in fury, twisting and jerking from the cop’s grasp. Two others stepped up and pushed Schaeffer’s round belly against the wall. He actually bounced off, still ranting about all those jobs that would be lost once he got done taking names, et cetera, et cetera.

Mitch crossed his arms, more irritated than amused. As long as he’d been drooling for this chance to feed Schaeffer his own head on a stick, all he wanted to do now was get back to Halina. Mitch couldn’t care less about this waste of oxygen other than putting him away for the rest of his natural life—times three.

Mitch shot a God-the-drama look at Young. Young slanted a what-a-psycho look back at Mitch.

By the time the cops had linked three pairs of cuffs together to accommodate Schaeffer’s sausage-like arms behind his back, the man was huffing and puffing as if he could barely draw air. Mitch turned to the nurse whose name tag read Peggy and murmured, “Can you put a pulse ox on his finger, please?”

She nodded and clipped a portable monitor to one of Schaeffer’s index fingers. The red LED readout was clearly visible to everyone, and registered ninety-nine. The bastard had plenty of oxygen in his blood.

“You’re not faking your way back into a hospital room, Schaeffer,” Mitch said. “No passing go, no collecting two hundred dollars.
No way out
.”

When the cop turned Schaeffer around, his face was a sickening fuchsia. “That’s it, Foster. This is the last straw. I’ll have you up before the bar by week’s end. You’ll never practice again.”

Mitch pulled his phone from his pocket, framed Schaeffer in all his irate, indignant glory in the viewfinder, and clicked the image. He slid the phone back into his pocket and said, “That would be difficult to do.” Mitch remained relaxed and maddeningly calm, knowing it would only infuriate Schaeffer further. “The bar doesn’t respond to criminals, Gil.”

Schaeffer sputtered, spit spraying in an arc. Agent Seville took a step back with a disgusted frown.

“You don’t know anything—” Gil started.

“Yes,” the cop said. “He does. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law—”

“I demand an explanation, right
now
!” Schaeffer yelled.

“You’re being arrested, Gil,” Mitch said with excess patience as if explaining to a three-year-old.

“You have the right to consult an attorney,” the cop continued over him, louder, “and to have an attorney present during questioning.”

“I’m available,” Mitch said. “If you ask
real
nice, I could probably get the jury to consider one death sentence instead of three. I’m good like that.”

“If you cannot afford an attorney—”

“You can’t, by the way,” Mitch interrupted. “All your assets and bank accounts have been frozen.”

“—one will be appointed for you,” the cop continued. “If you decide to answer any questions now—”

“Beware . . .” Mitch let the wickedness beneath his grin show. “Because I’ll twist everything that comes out of your mouth.”

“—you can stop answering at any time.”

“You also have the right,” Mitch added, “to get strip-searched by District of Columbia’s finest. You have the right to become Big Bubba’s latest bitch. You have the right—”

“Do you understand your rights?” the cop asked Schaeffer, shooting a glare at Mitch.

“Dead, Foster,” Schaeffer growled. “You’re dead.”

Mitch chuckled darkly. “With your track record and all these witnesses, you’d better hope I don’t turn up dead anytime soon.”

“Do you understand your rights, Senator?” the cop asked.

“Of course I do, you ridiculous civil servant, I’m a United States Senator, for God’s sake. Now tell me what I’m charged with or get these cuffs off me.”

“I’ll start, Senator,” Agent Seville said. “You are under arrest for the murder of Army Major Bruce Abernathy—”

“That’s ludicrous,” he yelled. “I’ve been under twenty-four-hour care here for weeks.”

“But when conspiring to commit a crime, Senator,” Seville said sweetly, following Mitch’s lead in tone, “the conspirator is as guilty of the crime as the perpetrator. Which leads me to the charges of conspiracy to commit said murder and murder for hire.”

“Insanity,” Schaeffer said. “Absolute insanity.”

“You ain’t heard nothing yet, Gil.” Mitch slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, rolled back on his heels, and grinned. The thick, sweet, decadent slide of vindication and vengeance coated his insides. Vindication for the team. Vengeance for Halina, and yes, for himself.

“Pull up your big-boy pants, Gil, you’re gonna need them. I’ll try to keep it simple for that teeny-tiny brain of yours.”

He paused to savor the sheer joy of witnessing justice in action. Then he let loose on the charges the Attorney General had given him permission to disclose.

“You are charged with multiple counts of campaign fraud, multiple counts of misuse of public funds, and multiple counts of bribery.” Mitch grinned. “Can’t wait to see those photos of you at the Alibi Club splashed on
World News Tonight
.”

“You set me up,” he wheezed. “This is a conspiracy.”

Mitch waved him off. “Hold on, that’s coming. Let’s get a few others out of the way first. So impatient.” He glanced at the ceiling as if he needed to think to remember the charges. “Where was I? Oh, right.” Staring Gil directly in those muddy eyes, he said, “You are charged with two counts of false imprisonment for the illegal—not to mention despicable, animalistic, unethical—incarceration of Teague Creek and Cash O’Shay. There will be many more charges coming related to the two men, but I don’t want to confuse you. You’re already starting to pale, Gil.”

“He’s fine,” Peggy said from behind the senator, where she monitored his pulse ox, a disgusted look on her face. “Finish up. I want to get him out of here.”

“You are charged with multiple counts of mail and wire fraud,” Mitch continued. “You are charged with multiple counts of extortion. You are charged with multiple counts of fraud and conspiracy to commit fraud. You are charged with multiple counts of biological and chemical weapons trafficking.

“If it were up to me, I’d have a slew of other charges, but the attorney general is a little more conservative. Don’t worry, as more evidence surfaces, there will be plenty more to tack on. We’re doing our damnedest to round all this into a package worthy of your . . . stature.”

When Gil only stared at the floor, his face as white as the plaster wall, mouth hanging open, bent at the waist, Mitch crouched, tilted his head, and said, “Do you understand the charges as I’ve outlined them, Gil? Your court-appointed attorney will get everything in writing. Shit, dude, I hope you didn’t screw him too at some point over your last twenty years in office. That would suck.”

Mitch straightened. “Hey, Gil, would love to stay, watch you rant and writhe, but I’ve got to run. Halina and I—you remember Halina, right?—yeah, we’re getting married today. Crazy, right? Who’d have believed? I’m living the dream, man.” He reached out and slapped Gil’s arm—hard. Gil pitched forward. The cop kept him standing with a hand against his chest. “Living. The. Fucking.
Dream
.”

Mitch pressed his hands to his thighs and stood. Turning to Owen, he dusted his hands and said, “My work here is done. See you at the courthouse, right?”

Owen offered his hand and Mitch took it with a familiar sense of accomplishment and goodwill flowing through every inch of his body. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Mitch started toward the elevator, then turned back with a thought, still moving backward as he spoke, pointing between Owen and Agent Seville. “Feel free to bring a date.”

 

Halina paced the library’s anteroom. She rubbed her damp hands together. Took a deep breath to try and slow her heart. She glanced at the clock over the door again.

“Is that clock right?” she asked, more to herself than the others milling in the room. “Did the second hand stop?”

“Sweetheart,” Alyssa said. “Relax. He wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Halina turned. Searched the gazes of the men in the room, each dressed in a fresh dark suit Mitch had purchased for them that morning. The same way he’d sent Alyssa, Jessica, Keira, and Kat out to buy the women crimson gowns and instructions for Alyssa to help Halina choose the wedding dress of her dreams.

This was one attractive group—the men oozing charm and testosterone, the women simply breathtaking. A photographer crouched unobtrusively in the corner, shooting pictures of Kat trying to teach Mateo how to dance, each dressed in miniature versions of the adults’ clothes. Dex sat watching the kids, wearing a ridiculous-looking bow tie. Halina still didn’t know whose idea that was, but if she had to guess, Kai would be the main suspect.

Mitch had thought of flowers, candles, even a cake and champagne. The only thing Halina had to consider was a ring for him. She’d picked up a thick, solid platinum band when she’d chosen her dress and now spun it around her middle finger, where it was still too big.

“Has anyone talked to him?” When they shook their heads, Halina turned her gaze on Alyssa and pressed a hand to the sudden roll of nausea in her belly. “He’s . . . he’s okay, right? Nothing could happen to him. Owen was with him. The police and the FBI were there, right?”

“He’s fine.” Alyssa wrapped her in a hug. “Just long-winded. You know him.”

Kai pulled his phone from the pocket of his slacks, set his stance wide. “I’ll call—”

The door opened and Mitch sauntered in, followed by Chief Justice McMillan, who’d introduced himself earlier. Then another couple—Owen Young and the FBI agent from the night before? Owen wore a handsome navy suit, Agent Seville a deep eggplant-colored dress.

Mitch spoke to the judge for a moment in a low voice, and once Halina’s gaze strayed back to him, she couldn’t tear it away. He wore a black tuxedo, with a white shirt, cummerbund, and tie, and when he shut the door behind the judge and turned toward the group, all Halina’s air slipped from her lungs.

His black hair shone, and the few hours’ worth of stubble on his jaw gave an edge to that polish that made her heart beat quicker. And then he met her eyes, his filled with life and love and so much excitement, they shone liquid gold.

She let her gaze slide down his lean body and took in the perfect way the tux fit every inch.

“About damn time,” Kai muttered. “Figures he’d be late to his own wedding.”

Mitch either didn’t hear Kai or didn’t care. He didn’t take his gaze from Halina. And she’d never felt more beautiful. Or more loved. He conveyed it all with one look.

He put a hand over his heart and groaned. “Thank God there’s a doctor on-site.” Without taking his sweeping gaze from her, he said, “Judge, we should hurry. I don’t think I’ll able to stand much longer.”

Halina crossed to him and took his hands, searching his gaze. “Are you all right? Are we . . . all right?”

He slid his arms around her waist and slowly pulled her against him. Oh, he smelled amazing and her lids went heavy as she breathed him in and instantly calmed.

“Never better,” he murmured, low and sexy. “And you’ve never looked more beautiful. I’m the luckiest man on earth.”

He lowered his head to kiss her.

“Ah-ah.” The judge drew their attention. “None of that just yet.”

Mitch pulled back and beamed down at her. Halina’s heart overflowed with more love and happiness than she’d believed possible.

“You clean up pretty good, brother.” Teague stepped up next to Mitch, acting as his best man, and pushed him away from Halina. “Put your eyes and your tongue back in your head, dude. You’ve still got a few words to say.”

Alyssa came up beside Halina and handed her the flowers she’d set down twenty minutes ago. Keira took Brady from Alyssa’s arms and gave her a bouquet of her own.

Halina went a little hazy for the next several minutes, floating through the formalities of a ceremony she’d convinced herself she’d never experience, to the man of her dreams she’d believed could never love her with equal depth. The whole thing was such a fantasy, she was sure her feet didn’t touch the ground.

“Halina,” Alyssa whispered behind her, tapping her arm.

She was lost in Mitch’s warm eyes, his bright, lively smile, thinking she couldn’t ever remember seeing him so happy. “Hmm?”

“Your flowers.” Alyssa was grinning at her as if Halina had missed something, then leaned close and even more quietly said, “Do you remember your vows?”

“Oh.” Halina’s stomach did a triple flip. “Yes.”

As soon as Alyssa took her bouquet, Mitch’s hands slipped over hers and she was absorbed in that golden gaze again.

“It is my honor,” Judge McMillan’s smooth, confident voice filled the room, “to be with you all today to unite Mitch Foster and Halina Beloi in the blessed union of marriage. Mitch, are you here of your own free will to join your heart and soul with Halina’s in the eyes of our Lord and the law?”

His gaze never left hers, but his fingers tightened and his grin grew. “I am.”

“Halina, are you here of your own free will to join your heart and soul with Mitch’s in the eyes of our Lord and the law?”

She swallowed, licked her lips, held his gaze. And sighed out a “Yes.”

“Mitch,” Judge McMillan said, “I understand you and Halina have your own vows.”

His gaze darted to the man between them for a split second as he made a quick nod, then looked back at Halina. He repositioned her hands in his and held on tight. Took a breath that raised his shoulders and blew it out quick. The first flash of nerves lit his eyes, but he went very quiet and still. The way he sometimes did before he delivered an important closing argument.