The Woman (33 page)

“For that amount, I’ll take hero.”

“Two-hundred-fifty thousand dollars. That’s one quarter of a million dollars.”

“You aren’t convincing me.”

“That’s a lot of money. You’ve done a lot of assignments for a lot less.”

“True. But Ms. Darby has had days to work on my sympathy. Just look at her body. She’s very convincing. As for money, it comes and it goes, but her desire to please continues.”

“Okay. Let’s quit screwing around. One million dollars.”

“Show me the money and it’s done. And I’ll dispose of her body.”

Chapter 51

Linda felt panic. Shock. Had Ryan conned her? Had he brought her here only to bid up the price for killing her? Had this been about his achieving his retirement goal with one last killing? If Ryan had decided he would kill her now, she had no chance. She’d never get out of this room.

The Rossi fires through the jacket. The hammer won’t snarl on the fabric. I could shoot Ryan. Then take the gun out and kill Webster. But that would alert Victor who would have the advantages of knowing the house and greater firepower.

Linda gripped the Rossi, her index finger gentle inside the trigger housing.

Ryan moved a few feet to the side away from Linda’s deadly pocket. He did so slowly, but she recognized he had moved just enough to make a shot from inside her jacket more difficult. He grinned, but kept his eyes on Webster.

Linda angled her body enough to recapture a straight line of fire.

Ryan grinned again, his focus still on his employer.

* * *

“I’ll need some time to raise that much cash.”

“Mr. Webster. Mr. Webster. You once told me you could put your hands on a couple million without leaving your house. You are not a man to idly boast, so cough it up. Or I go back to choice B: hero.” Then he turned to Linda, “Are you okay?”

“I’m cold, freezing is more like it.” She took her hands out of her pockets, formed them into a circle and blew into the circle.

“Sit down, Linda. Over there.” Ryan’s tone made it an order. “You can keep your hands in your pockets if that’s warmer. But sit down.”

Linda sat.

“Well, Mr. Webster, which will you make me? Rich or hero?”

“Wait here,” Webster said.

“No way. You’d keep in it in this room. I figure a safe.”

“Yes, of course, only please put that gun down. Certainly, you don’t need it to protect yourself from me.”

Ryan shrugged and slipped his Beretta behind his belt at the front of his pants. He grinned again at Linda.

Webster got up, moved to his left, and took a picture off the wall to reveal a safe, then began moving the dial for the combination.

“I figure you’ve got a gun in that safe,” Ryan said. “If you turn back fast, you’ll be dead before you come full around.”

“You don’t trust me?”

When the safe door swung open, Ryan stepped close to Webster’s back, his gun against the back of his neck, and looked over his shoulder.

“As you can see, Ryan, there is no gun.”

“Make it two million.”

“We agreed to one.”

“And I shall only take one. The second million is for Ms. Darby.”

“But the payment to you is for killing her.”

“Things change. Instead, you’re paying us to walk away, keep quiet, and leave you alone.”

“Ryan, I know I can trust you. But I can’t trust her. Kill her and take the entire two million for yourself.”

At that moment, the door leading back to the hallway flew open and Victor filled the void as if he were the door itself. He stood six-two with robust shoulders, and gray shark-like eyes above a joyless grin. His gun centered on Ryan broad midsection.

“Doesn’t seem right me holding a gun on you,” Victor said. “You having been my mentor and all.”

“Doesn’t have to be this way, Vic. Put the gun away and join us. Get free of this maggot.”

“But Mr. Webster pays me well. And once you’re gone, I move up in the pecking order. That’ll make the pay even better. Right, Mr. Webster?”

“Right, Victor, at least double what I have paid Testler.”

“So,” Ryan said to Webster, “that’s why you encouraged me to put away my gun?”

“Along with my getting to the safe where I could press the hidden remote to summon Victor. Forgive me, Ryan.”

“God forgives, Mr. Webster. I don’t.”

Then Ryan returned his attention to Victor. “So, how have you been?”

Victor ignored Ryan and spoke to Webster. “You can sit down boss, be comfortable. I’ll take this garbage out.”

“There’s at least a third million in that safe,” Ryan said. “That’s enough to set you up for life.”

“No dice. Mark and I owe Mr. Webster for taking care of our mother.”

“Okay,” Ryan said. “I wanted to offer you a piece of tonight’s haul. Still, it doesn’t seem fair, you holding the only gun. Why don’t you let me take mine out?”

“Not on your life.”

“I thought not, but how ‘bout just my finger gun?” Not waiting for an answer, Ryan slowly raised his arm and pointed his hand toward Victor. His index out and thumb back, like a child does to simulate a handgun.

“Now be careful,” Victor said after he and Ryan shared an uneasy laugh. “You won’t shoot me with that thing, will you?”

“I think I will,” Ryan said as he slowly pressed his thumb down to fire the child gun.

* * *

Linda had watched the two men bantering over joyless smiles. Then it ended. Nearly simultaneous to Ryan firing his finger gun, she heard the sound of breaking glass from behind her. Then saw Victor’s head snap forward suddenly, and then just as suddenly snap back. His knees gave way and he went down heavily.

Linda looked at Webster who sat stunned with a questioning look on his face, one that probably matched her own. The shot had come from outside.

Someone outside is supporting Ryan. But we came alone. But Ryan had not been surprised. He had used his finger gun to call in that shot from outside.

“You got something we can put the two million in?” Ryan asked.

Webster nodded, and then opened a cabinet in the credenza on the side wall below the crucifix. He took out a black satchel and stacked the two million inside.

Then Ryan said, “Give us the rest. Empty the safe.”

“But we agreed. Two million and you kill this woman.”

“You bargained in bad faith. You had no intent of giving us the two million. That releases me from my agreement. So, new deal, we take it all.”

“That’s three million,” Webster said, “maybe a little more.”

“Good. Do it.”

“You bastard.”

“Yes, sir,” Ryan said, “in my case, an accident of birth. Now you, you’re a self-made man.”

* * *

Linda watched Webster hand the satchel to Ryan, then collapse into his chair. He was defeated and he knew it. He crossed his legs, his left hand sliding off his lap, down along the edge of the cushion. Then his hand came back. Fast. His fist filled with a Glock. He fired at Ryan, hitting him in the chest.

Ryan went down.

Linda fired her snub-nosed Rossi three times through the front of her jacket. All three bullets hit Webster so close together in time that the convulsions of his body seemed as one.

The anger that had fed her rage drained from her. She felt empty. Her whole body began to shake. She ignored it and rushed to Ryan. He was not moving.

Ryan looked up. “Good shooting, missy.”

“But you’ve been shot.”

“I dealt myself a hand in your game. None of this is your fault. It was my plan, and my failure to allow for that old fox keeping a gun in that chair.”

“What’ll I do?”

“Get on with your life. Go home. Be yourself. The real you. You’re a hell of a woman, Linda Darby. I’m proud to know you.”

“But I killed Webster,” Linda said.

“Damn straight you did. He was definitely one of those who deserved to die. He would have shot you next.”

“I need to call an ambulance.”

“I’d be dead before they got here. And your identity would be blown. I’m still in charge of this operation. Get out of here. Leave one million in the safe so it won’t look like a robbery. Take the other two million and go. The authorities will never know you’ve been here. Split the money with Clark.”

“Clark?” Linda said, having forgotten all about the shot from outside. When she looked up, she saw the former waiter from O’Malley’s, now Sea Crest deputy, standing just inside the door. He came over and kneeled.

“Sorry, Captain. He fired before I knew what was happening.”

“No regrets, Sarge. You did your job. Thanks for your help. Now get Linda out of here.”

“I will,” Clark said, his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “She can go back to Sea Crest now.” Clark then turned to Linda. “You’ve got your life back. It can be just like before.”

“No,” Linda said. “My life will never again be like before. I want to go back to Sea Crest, but this time not to hide.”

“You need to go, Sarge,” Ryan said.

“But we can’t leave you,” Linda said.

“You can and will. I’m done. If you don’t leave now, you’ll have wasted what I did.”

Clark put his hand under Linda’s arm and lifted her to her feet. “The captain’s right.”

Clark walked out behind Linda, closing the drapes behind them.

Epilogue

Clark and Linda alternated driving his car the several days it took them to get back to Sea Crest. Along the way, they followed the news reports about the murder of Alistair Webster. The stories told about two other men also found dead at the Webster estate. At this point, the two other men had not been identified beyond reference to them as bodyguards in Alistair Webster’s employ. There was no mention of any third man or of the police finding an abandoned, burned out Taurus under a rickety lean-to not far from the Webster estate. The papers were talking about it as a robbery because Webster’s safe had been left open and empty. Linda and Clark had left a million in the safe. That million had to have been taken by someone if the safe was found empty, or perhaps the police first at the scene had divided it up.

There were unconfirmed rumors about files being found in Webster’s office that implicated many Washington, D.C. insiders, members of Congress and several agency regulators. One article also mentioned a gun found in a plastic bag, the FBI was checking for fingerprints. The local police had been quoted as saying the FBI had taken the contents of a two-drawer lateral file that might not have been found had the hidden wall panel not been left standing open.

“We never found any hidden file cabinet,” Linda said.

“I figure the captain wanted the files found,” Clark said, “so he opened the hidden cabinet after we left.”

“But Ryan was dead?”

“The papers said three dead,” Clark reminded Linda, “Webster and two bodyguards.”

“But Ryan was dead. I saw him. So did you.”

“He wasn’t dead when we left.”

“Oh, my God,” Linda said. Do you think he survived? That he took the other million?”

Clark smiled. “The captain needed to finish funding his own retirement plan while also helping us fund ours.”

“Why did he let us think he was dying?”

Clark put his hand on Linda’s forearm. “He felt it best you thought he was dead.”

“Why?”

“I stopped asking the captain why a long time ago.”

“Why do you call him Captain?”

“That was his last rank in Delta.”

“Why did he leave the military?”

“Rules of engagement are politically motivated, and he had seen too many good men die because of those restrictions. Politicians rule through authority not through competence. The captain’s rule one: if someone is trying to kill you, kill them. The rule applies for individuals or countries. Rule two: see rule one.”

“Tell me more about him.”

“There is so much to tell, yet so little that can be. I will tell you he greatly admires you, feels you’re a real winner.”

“Why does he think I’m a winner?”

“Because you’re gentle and compassionate, yet tough enough to do what needs to be done. He admires that. So do I.”

“Will we ever see him again?”

“Perhaps, some day.”

After entering Oregon late that Friday, Clark and Linda stopped for the night. Over breakfast the next morning, they read about the death of Sea Crest Police Chief, Benjamin McIlhenny. He had died in a boating accident on Thursday, in the deepwater channel off the coast of Oregon.

Clark leaned toward Linda. “Ben was in many ways a good man. But he was on Webster’s payroll. If he had not helped Webster, your friend Cynthia would not have been killed. And no one would have ever come after you.”

“Why would Ben help Webster?”

“Ben had killed a man in New Jersey, a man who needed killing. Webster could prove Ben did it and end Ben’s law enforcement career. So he chose to do Webster’s bidding, and now Ben has paid the price for that choice.”