Wrapped in Flame (25 page)

Trish came out of the school when he turned onto the street and out of sight. “Oh my God, are you all right?”

“Pissed as hell. A little scared. And ready to get this over with.”

“You handled him like a pro, Erica,” Posner said in her ear. “Good job.”

The side door of Trish’s van opened as she and Trish started toward it. Mike sat on the floor waiting. Erica knew he’d been watching everything the entire time from behind the van’s semidark back windows.

“You okay?” he asked.

She wanted a hug in the worst way. If she fell into his arms now, she’d never let go. Neither would Mike.

“I’m fine,” she said, then slid into the front seat when he opened the door for her.

“Tell me everything,” he said, resuming his position in the back.

It didn’t take long.

“Trish is going to drop me off on the street behind my house,” Mike said. “I’ll be in position in the kitchen pantry before you get there. Everything just like we talked about. If he follows you inside, keep the furniture between him and you. That’ll keep him from grabbing you and give you something to duck behind in the event he’s got a weapon we can’t see. It’ll give us time to reach you.”

“Got it.” There wasn’t a single place within the house that wasn’t covered by Mike, CJ, Berto, Bub, and Gina.
One shout away.
Posner’s people were staged outside. Keith would never know what hit him. Still, she felt that nasty panic rear its ugly head when they reached the drop-off point.

“I love you,” they said at the same time. After a quick kiss, Mike jogged away, cutting between the houses to reach his own via the back way.

Trish drove on. “How the hell can you two be so calm?”

“We’re faking.”

Erica spotted several anomalies as Trish turned onto Mike’s street. An RV was parked in the driveway adjacent to Mike’s, there was a plumbing truck two houses down, and another truck for wireless service was across the street with a man on the rooftop. Any one or all of them could be Posner’s people. It struck her as too busy, too coincidental that so many things would be going on in one neighborhood at the same time. Surely anyone would see that this was a setup.

Keith waited for her in the driveway, sitting on the hood of her car.

“Stay in the van, Trish. Seat belt off. Ready to jump into the back at a moment’s notice.”

“Got it.”

Erica would have preferred she not be there at all, but having someone staged at the school had been imperative, and she’d been the only one besides Erica who’d had a logical reason to be there.

Keith was at the side of the van before Erica could exit. She recognized the move as him trying to put her in a subservient position or maybe trying to lay hands on her.

Take control.

Erica swung open the door, forcing him to step back or get hit. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Send her off.” He jerked his chin toward Trish. “You’ll ride with me.”

Like hell.

“We’ve got movement at the side of the house,” Posner said in her ear. “His sister’s here and carrying a gun.”

Erica had to get Trish out of there. “Very well.” She turned to her friend. “I’ll call you later.”

“’Kay.” Trish backed from the driveway as soon as Erica was clear.

“Stay here,” she told Keith. “You better have my key out by the time I get back.” Quick steps took her up the walkway, the house key securely in her fingers. She had to get inside the house before Karen came around the corner.

“Quit acting like you think you’re better than me.” Keith snagged her arm and yanked her to a stop.

Erica jabbed the keys under his chin. “Let me go.”

That look again, the one that promised death. “Make me.”

“Let her go, Keith,” Karen said softly from behind.

He spun around. Erica saw the gun firmly in Karen’s fingers held close to her body and was damn glad Keith was in the line of fire and not her.

“Sniper’s got a clear shot,” Posner said. “Get in the house.”

The man on the roof across the street had shifted into a crouch.

“He plans to kills you, Erica,” Karen said.

“She’s lying,” Keith said.

Erica shoved her key into the lock. “I’m calling 911.”

“Good idea.” Karen pushed her way forward, shoving Keith before her and into Erica.

“Put the gun down, Karen,” Erica snapped. “And for God’s sake, stay put, or he’ll get away.”

“There’s less chance he’ll make a run for it inside. I don’t drop my gun until the cuffs are on him.”

Karen shoved them inside, pushing the door hard enough to hit the closet behind it. Erica ”tripped” over the box of Legos nearby, scattering them across the floor.

“Sorry,” she muttered, stooping to pick up handfuls of the plastic bricks as Keith and Karen barreled in.

Karen slammed the door shut. “I’m really sorry it’s come to this. I had little choice.”

“I’ll make that call.” Clutching a fistful of Legos, Erica headed for the house phone in the kitchen. Mike would be in the pantry.

“Not yet.” Karen sauntered forward, backing Keith nearer to Erica.

Erica edged closer to the kitchen, almost in the doorway. “Put the gun down, Karen. He’s inside. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Not yet.” She lifted the weapon. “I told Detective Posner everything, Keith. How you lured us here, how you murdered Wayne, how I had to flee for my life. You never should have fucked me over. I won’t stand for that.” Her attention moved to Erica, but the gun remained on Keith. “This is your fault. All you had to do was make Keith your beneficiary.”

“So you could kill me?” Erica said the words nice and loud.

“Oh, sweetie”—Karen smiled—“you’re going to die anyway.”

“Like hell I am.”

Erica hurled Legos at her face and dashed for the kitchen. Keith knocked her down in his rush to pass. Mike clotheslined him before Keith could reach the back door. A shot rang out, followed by Legos skittering across the floor. Karen swung around the doorway, gun first. Air burst from Erica’s lungs from the force of Mike’s tackle. A bullet zinged over them. Keith cried out. Another step brought Karen farther into the room. Mike shoved a chair in her direction and crawled under the table with Erica still beneath him. Footsteps pounded their way. Karen swung her gun hand around. Mike shoved another chair her way. The gun whipped in their direction. Mike tucked Erica beneath him, dragging them farther under the table. The shot hit the table, and then Karen hit the floor.

Erica was afraid to move. Everything had happened so quickly.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Berto’s got her.” Mike patted her hip and slipped out from under the table.

Erica rolled into a sitting position. Mike squatted next to Keith. Blood seeped across the floor from the wound to his chest, yet he still managed to glare at his sister.

“Fucking bitch,” he told her.

Karen lay there, cheek pressed into the tile, and started to cry. “I’m sorry, Keith. You never should have made me mad. Never should have turned on me.”

Posner and his people rushed in. Posner snapped the cuffs over Karen’s wrists and turned her over to the deputies. “He still alive?” he asked Mike.

“Yeah, and he’s going to stay that way, because I will not have this fucker dying on my floor.” He reached for the first-aid kit CJ handed him, and the two started to work on Keith.

“I won’t give you the pleasure of dying.” Hate poured from Keith’s eyes. “You’ll never have her.”

Mike smirked. “I already have her. Nothing you do will ever change that.”

Posner crouched over him. “We’ll see how cocky you are when you’re on death row, slick. Whether you live or not depends on which of you makes a deal first. Your sister’s blubbering nonsense in there, ready to spill all she knows. You one-up her and make a deal first, the DA will go easier on you.” He shrugged. “Your last chance to even the score with her. So what’s it going to be?”

Funny how words just started tumbling from Keith’s lips, starting with, “The bitch turned on me. Knocked me out and left me in the desert to die.”

* * * *

Mike thought he was scared before. Now he was petrified, thinking about how close Erica had come to being killed. They’d been sitting side by side on CJ’s couch for the better part of an hour, both still shaking, refusing to let go of each other’s hand. Trish and Bub had essentially taken over CJ’s kitchen, plying them with food and drink neither of them had touched. Well, except for the wine. His house—their house—was off-limits while crime techs processed the scene. A cleaning company would be in afterward to put things to rights.

“Eat something.” Trish stood over them, hands on hips. “I live to feed people. Do you really want to deny me that snippet of pleasure?” She looked bad-ass, but her red-rimmed eyes said otherwise.

“Come here.” Mike patted the empty space beside him and, when she sat down, tucked her against him.

Trish curled close. “I don’t want the kids to see me crying.”

“They won’t,” he said. “They’re having the time of their lives out back with the dogs.” CJ had four of them and a cat who kept to herself, all rescues. “We’re all safe. It’s over.”

Not quite, but close enough. Keith was at the hospital, and Karen was in custody. Both would be charged with a litany of crimes that still boggled the mind. Murder, theft, drug trafficking, blackmail, and who knew what else. They’d found out that not all spouses were so easily manipulated, and when Wayne Trenton—their former partner in crime—had turned the tables on them, the siblings had concocted a plan to kill him and fake Keith’s death. Erica would inherit the life insurance, and then Karen would kill her and collect instead. They’d planned well, Mike would give them that. Keith getting dental work to match Wayne’s X-rays had been pretty inspired. But they hadn’t bothered to keep tabs on their prey. Wayne’s skiing accident and surgical work on his leg as a result had ended up ruining everything. And Betty’s refusal to cave in to Keith’s demand for more money had been the last brick to fall. Together Keith and Karen killed Wayne. Keith set a slow fuse so fire would ignite well after they left. They’d staged the vehicles to look like Keith’s was stolen, but when they went to dump Wayne’s car, Karen turned on Keith. She’d knocked him out, then switched plates on the vehicles and left him for dead. Her plan was to kill Keith, then Erica, and collect the insurance. Hearing Sandy was pregnant with Keith’s child, Karen had also targeted Sandy, because a child would have inherited the insurance money before Karen.

“Twice I could have killed the bastard, and I didn’t,” he said.

Erica tucked her feet under her, putting her even closer to him. It still wasn’t close enough. “That’s because you’re a good guy.” She traced her index finger over his lips.

“Am I?”

“The best.” She reached for the platter of cheeseburger sliders on the table. “Come on. Trish is right. We need to eat something.”

Trish stretched to her feet, flicking tears from her eyes. “Words I never tire of hearing. ‘Trish is right.’”

“Anyone reach Sandy to tell her the news?” Gina asked.

“Not answering her phone.” Bub set a huge plate of nachos where the sliders had been.

“I texted her,” CJ said.

“We’ve
all
texted her,” Gina shot back.

“Leave her alone,” Erica told them. “Let her process. She’s got to come back sometime.”

Did she? Mike wasn’t sure. He hoped so but wasn’t sure if she would.

“I’ll text Tim to see if he’s heard.” Trish plucked her cell from the back pocket of her jeans.

“The two of you are so damn cute,” Gina mumbled. “In a stick-your-finger-down-your-throat kind of way.”

Trish grinned as her thumbs flew over the keypad. “What can I say? We miss each other.”

Mike helped himself to the nachos. “Once he’s chief, you might see a lot more of him.”

“You could be chief instead, you know,” she answered.

“Not if I don’t apply for the job.”

Heads whipped his way. He shrugged before someone could say something. “Tim has seniority. He deserves to have the job.” No one argued the point. They couldn’t.

Phones blinged throughout the room—another mass text.

“I can’t handle an emergency tonight.” Berto sank into the spot Trish had vacated.

“He’s dead.” Erica said it first, forcing everyone to scramble to catch up. “Keith’s dead. The text is from Posner. He died in surgery.”

“Thank God and good riddance.” Gina tossed her phone onto the end table and picked up her beer. “I’ll toast to that.”

The others raised their glasses. Mike and Erica looked at each other instead.

“We can get married,” they said together.

“Anyone here sober enough to drive us down to Palm Springs?” Mike asked.

Trish jerked her attention away from her phone, shaking her finger. “Don’t think the two of you are getting away with a drive-by wedding.”

Laughing, Erica splayed her hand against her throat. “What
were
we thinking?”

Mike smiled. “About making pretty babies?”

She cupped his cheek. The love in her eyes matched what he felt in his heart. “Lots of pretty babies.”

“Now
that’s
something to toast.” CJ raised his beer can high.

“Hear, hear.” Drinks lifted. Mike’s and Erica’s included.

“Seriously”—Trish sat next to Erica—“don’t you want your parents there?”

“My parents will understand. All they want is for me to be happy,” Mike said.

“Mine pressured me to marry Keith. I really don’t want them involved,” Erica told her.

“Is it the money?” Trish touched Erica’s knee. “Keith left a lot of debt. I know his insurance will cover it…when you get it. We can all pull together. Nothing fancy, but something nice for all of us.”

Erica squeezed her fingers. “No, it’s not the money. We simply don’t want to waste another second. But we’ll have something small and casual for you guys.”

“Are you sure you’re okay for money?” CJ leaned in. “That bastard—”

“I’m sure.” Erica looked at Mike. He could see the question in her eyes. They couldn’t keep this secret from their friends. It wasn’t right. They gave each other a nod at the same time.

“I’ll let you.” She picked up his hand.