The Winner (62 page)

He locked eyes with Jackson. His anger was so intense that it blocked out the pain in both arms. His hand closed around the butt of the compact gun taped inside his sling, the one he had originally had in his ankle holster. Its muzzle was pointed right at Jackson. Wounded arm and all, his aim was as sharp as ever. And Jackson was only a few feet away. But Riggs had to make the first shot count.

“Riggs!” Charlie screamed.

Jackson didn’t take his eyes off Riggs. “You’re next,
Uncle Charlie.”

Matt Riggs would never forget the look on Jackson’s face as the first shot Riggs fired erupted through the sling and hit the man flush in the face, tearing first through the powder, putty, and spirit gum, and then slamming a microsecond later into real flesh and bone. The gun fell from an astonished Jackson’s hand.

Riggs kept pulling the trigger, sending bullet after bullet slamming into Jackson. Head, torso, leg, arm—there wasn’t a piece of him Riggs missed until the firing pin banged empty twelve shots later. And all the time Jackson’s countenance held a look of supreme disbelief as blood mixed with fake hair and skin; creams and powders mutated into a dull crimson. The total effect was eerie, as though the man were dissolving. Then Jackson dropped to his knees, blood pouring from a dozen wounds, and then he fell face forward to the ground and did not move again. His last performance.

That’s when Riggs went fully over the edge. The multiple kicks from the pistol were enough to completely unsettle his balance, and his feet were unable to counter the slippery red clay. But as he went over, a look of grim satisfaction came over his face even as he stared down at the abyss he was plummeting toward. Two useless arms, both bleeding him to death, deep, fast, icy water, nothing to grab. It was over.

He heard Charlie scream his name one more time, and then he heard nothing else. He felt no pain now, only peace. He hit the water awkwardly and went under.

Charlie scrambled over and was just about to plunge in when a body hurtled by him and went over the edge.

LuAnn broke the surface of the water cleanly and almost instantly reappeared. She scanned the surface of the rapidly moving water that was already pulling her downstream.

From the bank, Charlie stumbled along through the thick trees and heavy underbrush, trying to keep up. The shouts of the FBI agents and police officers were getting louder, but it didn’t look as though their help would arrive in time.

“Matthew!” LuAnn screamed. Nothing. She dove under, methodically pushing off from bank to bank searching for him. Twenty seconds later she resurfaced, sucking in air.

“LuAnn!” Charlie yelled at her.

She ignored his cries. As the cold rain pelted her, she sucked in another lungful of air and went under again. Charlie stopped, his eyes darting everywhere, trying to pinpoint where she would come up. He wasn’t about to lose both of them.

When LuAnn broke the surface again she wasn’t alone. She gripped Riggs tightly around the chest as the current swept them along. He gagged and spit up water as his lungs struggled to function again. She tried to swim cross-current but was making little progress. She was freezing. In another minute hypothermia could well incapacitate her. Riggs was sheer dead weight, and she felt her strength fading. She scissored her legs around his upper torso, angling just enough that his face was above the water’s surface. She kept putting pressure on his stomach, making his diaphragm kick up and down, helping him clear his lungs.

She looked desperately behind her, searching for some way out. Her eyes fell upon a fallen tree, and, more important, the thick branch that was suspended partially out over the water. It would be close. She readied herself, gauging the distance and height. She tensed her legs around Riggs and then made her lunge. Her hands closed around the branch and held. She raised herself up. She and Riggs were now partially out of the water. She tried to pull herself up more, but couldn’t; Riggs was too heavy. She looked down and saw him staring at her, his breath coming in short gasps. Then she watched horrified as he started to unwrap her legs from around him.

“Matthew, don’t! Please!”

Through blue lips that moved in a painfully slow manner he said, “We’re not going to both die, LuAnn.” He pushed her legs again and she was now fighting him and the current and the weary ache in her limbs as the numbing cold settled deeply within her. Her lips were trembling with both rage and helplessness. She looked down at him again as he tried desperately to free himself, to rid her of the burden. She could simply let go, fall with him, but what about Lisa? She had seconds to make a choice, but then she didn’t have to. For the first time in her life, her strength failed, and her grip was broken. She started to plummet downward.

The thick arm that clamped around her body ended her fall and the next thing she felt was herself and Riggs being lifted completely out of the water.

She cocked her head back and her eyes fell upon his face.

Straddling the tree trunk, Charlie, bad arm and all, grunted and grimaced and finally pulled them safely to a narrow dirt bank where they all three collapsed, the water inches from them. LuAnn’s legs were still locked in a death grip around Riggs. She lay back, her head on Charlie’s chest, which was heaving mightily from his efforts. LuAnn slid her right hand down to Riggs, who took it, laying it against his cheek. Her left hand went up and gripped Charlie’s shoulder. He covered her hand with his. None of them said a word.

W
ell, it’s all done,” Riggs said, gingerly hanging up the phone. They were in his home office, LuAnn, Charlie, and Lisa. A gentle snow was falling outside. Christmas was rapidly closing in.

“So what’s the bottom line?” LuAnn asked.

LuAnn and Charlie were healed. Riggs was out of his sling, and the cast he had had to wear to mend the bone Jackson’s bullet had broken had recently been removed as well. He still moved slowly, though.

“Not great. The IRS finished its calculations of the back taxes you owed, penalties and interest all compounded for the last eight or so years.”

“And?”

“And it came to all the cash you had, all the investments you had, and all the property you had, including Wicken’s Hunt.” He managed a grin, trying to ease the impact of the depressing news. “You were actually short sixty-five cents so I threw it in for you, no charge.”

Charlie snorted. “What a Christmas present. And the other lottery winners get to keep all their money. That’s not fair.”

“They paid their taxes, Charlie,” Riggs replied.

“She’s paid taxes.”

“Only since coming back to this country and only under the name Catherine Savage.”

“Well, she couldn’t before. Not without probably going to prison for a crime she didn’t commit.”

“Well, gee, that’s a real winning argument.”

“Yeah, but they all won by cheating too,” Charlie retorted.

“Well, the government isn’t about to announce that to the world. They make billions off the lottery. Telling the truth might just mess that up, don’t you think?”

“How about all the millions she gave to charity, doesn’t that count for something?” Charlie said angrily.

“The IRS applauded LuAnn’s generosity but said they really couldn’t help on that because she had never filed a return. I’m telling you it’s not a bad deal. She could have gone to prison for a long time over this. Except for that fact, she probably could have kept some of the money. But that was a very real threat over her head. Sheriff Harvey didn’t go away very easily.”

“I can’t believe this crap. After all she’s been through. She broke up Crane’s worldwide criminal syndicate, the FBI looks like heroes, they confiscated all his property, billions of bucks into the Treasury, and she winds up with nothing. Not even a pat on the back. It’s not fair!”

LuAnn put a hand on a seething Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Charlie. I didn’t deserve any of that money. And I wanted to pay what I owed. I just want to be LuAnn Tyler again. I told Matthew that. But I didn’t murder anyone. All the charges against me are gone, right?” She looked at Riggs for confirmation.

“That’s right. Federal, state, everything. Free as a bird.”

“Yeah, and poor as a church mouse,” Charlie added angrily.

“Is that it, Matthew? They can’t come back on me later? The IRS, I mean? For more money?”

“All the papers are signed. They dropped everything. It’s over. They confiscated all your accounts, they foreclosed on the house. Anyway, even if they came after you, which they can’t, you don’t have any more money.”

Lisa looked at him. “Maybe we can move in here, Mom.” She added quickly, “I mean for a little while.” She looked between LuAnn and Riggs nervously. LuAnn smiled at Lisa. Telling her daughter the entire truth had been the hardest thing she had ever had to do. But the second she had finished, she had never felt greater relief. Lisa had taken the news admirably. Now at least their relationship could take on a semblance of normalcy.

Riggs looked at LuAnn, a little nervous himself. “I was thinking along those lines myself.” He swallowed hard. “Can you excuse us for a minute?” he asked Charlie and Lisa.

He took LuAnn by the arm and they left the room. Charlie and Lisa watched them go and then exchanged smiles.

* * *

Riggs sat LuAnn down by the fireplace and stood in front of her. “I’d love for all of you to move in here. There’s plenty of room. But—” He looked down.

“But what?” she asked.

“I was thinking about a more permanent arrangement.”

“I see.”

“I mean, I earn a good living and, well, now that you don’t have all that money.” She cocked her head at him as he blew out a deep breath. “I just never wanted you to think I was after you because of your wealth. It would’ve driven me crazy. It was like this big roadblock I couldn’t get around. I don’t want you to think that I’m happy you’re not rich anymore. If there had been some way for you to keep the money, that would’ve been great. But, now that you don’t have it, I just want you to know . . .” Here he stumbled again, unable to continue, suddenly terrified at the deep waters he had ventured into.

“I love you, Matthew,” LuAnn said simply.

Riggs’s features fully relaxed. He didn’t look terrified anymore. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever being this happy before. “I love you too, LuAnn Tyler.”

“Have you ever been to Switzerland?” she asked.

He looked surprised. “No. Why?”

“I always thought about honeymooning there. It’s so romantic, so beautiful. Especially at Christmas time.”

Riggs looked troubled. “Well, sweetie, I work hard, but small-town, one-man-shop general contractors don’t make enough money to do those sorts of things. I’m sorry.” He licked his lips nervously. “I’ll understand if you can’t accept that, after all these years of being so rich.”

In response, LuAnn opened her purse and took out a slip of paper. On it was an account number at a bank in Switzerland. The account had been opened with one hundred million dollars: Jackson’s return of her principal. It was all there, just waiting. It cranked out six million a year in interest alone. She would retain her lottery prize after all. And she wasn’t feeling any guilt about it this time around. Right now in fact, it seemed like she had earned it. She had spent the last ten years trying to be someone she wasn’t. It had been a life of great wealth and great misery. Now she was going to spend the rest of her life being who she really was and enjoying it. She had a beautiful, healthy daughter and
two
men who loved her. No more running, no more hiding for LuAnn Tyler. She was truly blessed.

She smiled at him, stroked his face.

“You know what, Matthew?”

“What?”

Right before she kissed him she said, “I think we’ll be just fine.”

David Baldacci

THE DREAM . . .

She is 20, beautiful, dirt-poor, and hoping for a better life for her infant daughter when LuAnn Tyler is offered the gift of a lifetime: a $100 million lottery jackpot. All she has to do is change her identity and leave the U.S. forever.

THE KILLER . . .

It’s an offer she dares to refuse . . . until violence forces her hand and thrusts her into a harrowing game of high stakes, big money subterfuge. It’s a price she won’t fully pay . . . until she does the unthinkable and breaks the promise that made her rich.

THE WINNER
 . . .

For if LuAnn Tyler comes home, she will be pitted against the deadliest contestant of all: the chameleon-like financial mastermind who changed her life. And who can take it away at will . . .