The Millionaires (43 page)

“What is it? What happened?” Noreen asked through the earpiece.

Refusing to answer, Joey stuffed her gun into her purse and hopped back onto the concrete path outside the clubhouse.

“Excuse me, ma’am…” a man’s voice called out behind her.

Caught off-guard, Joey flipped around and faced the young man with the bleached blond hair.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Charlie said, using his hand to block the cut on his lip. “But can I borrow your clubhouse key?
My grandma took ours upstairs.”

C
harlie stared at the redhead, knowing something was up. You’d think I asked for the key to her diary, he thought.

“Y-You want what?” the woman stammered.

“The clubhouse,” he said as he pointed to his and Oliver’s old hideout. “I just wanna use the bathroom.” Hoping to make nice—and
noticing that she was a solid fifty years below the average age range around there—he added, “Unless, of course, you want
to let me use the one in
your
grandmother’s place.”

“Yeah, she’d love that,” the woman said, giving Charlie the up and down. She smirked to herself, and Charlie wondered if he
was getting the I-love-you vibe. She’s cute too, he realized. Older, but with red hair—somehow it evened itself out. Too bad
this wasn’t the time or place.

“So you’re down here visiting grandparents too?” she asked.

“Actually, just my grandmother.”

“What apartment?”

“317,” he said, pointing up at the third-floor balcony that over-looked the pool. She didn’t even give it a glance. She’s
clearly still stuck on me, he thought—that is, until he noticed the blood that was all over the back of his hand. Crap. His
lip was still bleeding.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah… of course… I’m golden.”

“You sure?” she asked, reaching out. “Because I can—”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, pulling away. Realizing he’d creeped her out, he quickly forced a laugh. “It was a bad chewing gum
accident. Cherry Bubblicious—a poorly timed bite—we’re talking colossal inner-lip damage. I think I’m still having flashbacks.”
Looking around in a pretend dream-state, he added, “Momma? Is that you?”

Charlie kept laughing, but the woman was dead silent. That’s it. Show’s over. “Listen, if I can just get that key…”

“Of course, of course,” she said, diving back in her purse. “I have it right here…” She paused like she was about to say something
else. “Let me just get it for you… Charlie.”

Shit.

Her hand came out of her purse and she was holding a gun.

“W-What’re you doing?” Charlie asked, hands in the air.

“Don’t panic—it’s okay,” she said calmly. Her voice was all velvet—which was exactly why Charlie wasn’t buying a word.

“Are you with Gallo?” he asked.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she promised.

“Yeah… that seems to be the theme lately,” he said, wiping his still bleeding lip. He tried to whip out the comebacks, but
all he saw was the barrel of her gun.

“I swear to you, Charlie, I’m not Secret Service; I’m not law enforcement. All I care about is getting the money back and
getting you home safe.” Reading the doubt on his face, she steadied her gun hand, slid her free hand back into her purse,
and whipped out a white business card, which she flashed like a badge.

Squinting, Charlie read the words
Attorney at Law.

“I can’t see it,” he lied.

She didn’t budge—she was too smart to let him get close.

With a flick of her wrist, she winged the business card straight at him. It fluttered down at Charlie’s feet, where he scraped
it up and read the rest.
Jo Ann Lemont—Attorney at Law—Sheafe International.
On the bottom right, it said, “Virginia P.I. License #17-4127.”

A lawyer
and
a private eye. As if one weren’t bad enough. “What’re you, like Columbo or something?” he asked her.

“You always use humor as a defense mechanism?”

Watching her carefully, he knew she was trying to dig around his head. For that alone, he didn’t like her. Over her shoulder,
the pool sat calmly in the distance. Charlie prayed for a distraction, but they were too well hidden by the trees for anyone
to notice. “What do you want, lady?”

“Please,” she offered, “call me Joey.”

He sneered at the fake pleasantries. “What do you want,
Joey?
”he asked through gritted teeth.

“I assume you know Henry Lapidus…?”

Charlie didn’t bother to answer.

“I’m just trying to do my job, Charlie. Now do you want to tell me where Oliver’s hiding, or do you want me to kick down the
door to the clubhouse myself?”

It took everything Charlie had to avoid glancing at the clubhouse. He was standing right next to it. “You have no idea what
you’re talking about.”

“You can keep telling yourself that, but I saw how you left Duckworth’s place. I saw the blood on the carpet. And on your
lip.” Her gun was still up, but her voice was back to velvet. “I also know you don’t have your medication, Charlie. So why
don’t you tell me what’s really going on—maybe I can help.”

Again, he didn’t answer.

“Believe me, I know I have no business asking for your trust. But I also know it’s not easy to toss your life in the garbage.
I did the same thing when I dropped out of college—it took me three months before I realized I had to go back.” Charlie’d
seen this one before. She was trying to make peace by finding common ground. Letting the thought grind in, she added, “I know
what you’re throwing away, Charlie. Forget the job and that other nonsense—there’s your music… and your mom… and let’s not
forget your health—”

“I get the picture.”

“Then tell me what happened. Was it something with Duckworth? Is that why you took the money?”

“We’re not thieves,” he told her. She arched an eyebrow. “All I’m saying is, we didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“What about Shep?” she challenged.

“Shep was my friend! You ask anyone—all the snots at the bank—
I’m
the one who grabbed coffee with him, and talked football with him, and made fun of the fact that he thought the front section
of the paper was just there to keep the sports section from getting wet.”

She studied his face, his hands, even his shoes. Charlie knew she was looking for the tell—trying to figure if it was a lie.
Still, if she didn’t believe him, they wouldn’t be talking. “Okay, Charlie, so if you’re innocent, who killed him?” she finally
asked.

He expected her to lower the gun, but she didn’t. His hands were still in the air. “Why don’t you try turning your psych profiles
on Gallo and DeSanctis?”

She didn’t seem surprised as Charlie said the names. “You have proof of that?” Joey asked.

“I know what I saw.”

“But do you have proof?”

It was exactly like Oliver said—their word against the Service. “We’re working on it,” he shot back.

“Charlie, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He stopped and paused. He didn’t want to say it, but—Actually, that was a lie. He did. “While you’re at it, you should take
a look at Gillian as well.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Gillian who?”

Charlie wasn’t sure if she was bluffing or fishing, but by now, he had nothing to lose. “Duckworth’s daughter. It’s her house
now.”

Around the corner, there was a shuffling noise on the other side of the clubhouse. Charlie assumed it was someone’s grandmother.
So did Joey, who lowered her gun to make sure it was out of sight. With one eye on Charlie, she stepped backwards, carefully
trying to get a peek around the edge of the building. But just as she poked her head around the threshold, there was a familiar
click. Joey’s hands went straight toward the clouds. She took a step back from the corner, and Charlie finally saw what had
her so distressed: a small black gun was pressed against the side of her head.

“I swear I’ll use it,” Oliver promised as he turned the corner of the clubhouse and stepped into sight. With Gallo’s pistol
in his hand, he pulled back on the hammer. “Now drop your gun and get the hell away from my brother.”

O
liver, this isn’t the time to be stupid,” Joey warned as Oliver moved forward, gun cocked straight at her.

“I’m serious—I’ll use it,” Oliver said, his finger flickering against the trigger.

Joey watched the way his hands were shaking. Then she studied his eyes. Unwavering. Frozen and dark. He wasn’t joking.

“Joey, what’s happening?” Noreen begged through the earpiece. “Is that them? You want me to call it in?”

“Don’t do it…” Joey warned. Oliver turned, and Noreen stopped talking.

“You’re only going to infect the wound,” Joey added.

“Charlie, step back!” Oliver demanded.

Charlie jumped.

Joey watched the whole scene carefully. She knew which one she had to work on.

“Oliver…” she began. “Let me help you get out of th—”

“Lose the gun!” Oliver interrupted. “Throw it on the roof.”

This time, Joey didn’t budge.

“I said,
throw it on the roof!
” he insisted, his hand finally steadying.

Watching his brother, Charlie was speechless. So was Joey. Two days ago, she didn’t think Oliver Caruso had it in him. Today,
she wasn’t so sure. Joey glanced up at the roof of the clubhouse and prepared to toss her gun. “I’m just warning you, it’ll
probably go off.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Oliver replied.

With a soft toss, Joey lobbed her pistol up toward the edge of the roof. It landed with a thud, but didn’t explode.

Behind Oliver, a car horn beeped twice. Through the slats in the wood fence that surrounded the entire pool area, Joey spotted
Gillian’s sky blue Beetle pull up to the swinging gate that led out to the parking lot.

Oliver didn’t have to say a word. Charlie started running.

Joey studied Oliver, looking for his weakness. But after all the time chasing him, she already knew it. “The more you run,
the less likely you’ll ever get your old life back.”

To her surprise, Oliver didn’t flinch. He just watched Charlie. The instant his brother cut through the fence, Oliver took
another look at Joey. “Stay the hell away from us,” he warned.

His gun was still on her as he ran backwards toward the car. And before Joey could react, the car door slammed, tires spun,
and Oliver, Charlie, and Gillian were gone.

“Joey, are you okay?” Noreen interrupted through the earpiece.

Ignoring the question, Joey ran toward the opening in the fence. “Damn!” she shouted as she watched Gillian’s car bounce over
the speedbumps and make its way out onto the street. Like a bullet, Joey took off for her own car, which was double-parked
in front of the building. But just as she turned the corner, she spotted the new flat tires on her two rear wheels.

“Oh, screw me,” she mumbled to herself. “Noreen, call triple-A.”

“You got it.”

“And the millisecond you hang up, I want you to start checking…”

“… Gallo and DeSanctis. Already on it,” Noreen explained. “I started the instant Charlie said the words.”

“And what’d you think of his reaction when I mentioned Lapidus?” Joey asked.

“All I got was silence.”

“You should’ve seen the look on his face.”

“Okay, I’ll take a peek at Lapidus too. By the way, did you know the offices of Duckworth’s last job are only twenty minutes
away?”

“Beautiful—that’s what I want to hear,” Joey said as she ran back to get her gun off the roof. “And what about his daughter?
Any gossip on her?”

“See, that’s what doesn’t make sense,” Noreen answered. “While you were dealing with the Wonder Twins, I’ve been digging through
birth certificates, driver’s licenses, even tax records of Duckworth’s family. I’m not sure what Charlie was talking about,
but according to everything I can find—Marty Duckworth doesn’t have a daughter.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m telling you, Joey—I checked it a dozen times—according to every government and private database, Gillian Duckworth doesn’t
exist.”