It All Falls Down: Rose Gardner Investigations #7 (Rose Gardner Investigatons)
Page 14
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll peek through the window.”
But the visitor was standing out of our line of sight. There wasn’t a car out front either.
The doorbell rang again.
“Maybe it’s a ghost,” he teased, but his body was tense.
“Not funny,” I said. “I’m gonna open it. I had a vision that Roberta Hanover came to see me. I opened the front door and came face to face with myself. I bet it’s her.”
“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced. Instead, he stood to the side, his gun drawn and ready.
I grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, ready to welcome her in, only it wasn’t Roberta Hanover at my front door. It was Denny Carmichael.
“Hello, Lady,” he said with a smarmy smile. “Long time no see. Why don’t you invite me in?”
Chapter 16
I stared at him in shock, but Witt was quicker on his feet, pushing himself between me and the threshold.
“Get the hell out of here,” he said in a menacing voice that sounded totally unlike the perpetually laidback guy I knew.
Carmichael chuckled. “You think you scare me, boy? Do you even know how to use that thing?”
I was terrified Witt would shoot him just to prove he could, so I gave him a small push to the side. “What do you want, Carmichael?”
His grin lit up his eyes, but there was nothing friendly about it. “You owe me, Lady, and your payment is now due.”
Muffy released a low, threatening growl in the kitchen as Hope let out a mewl of discontent.
Carmichael perked up, and glee filled his eyes. “That your kid?”
Witt’s body tensed, and then a new terror washed through me. I spun on my heels and ran for the kitchen, swallowing a sob when I saw a man I’d met the previous summer offering my daughter a grubby finger to hold, a shotgun in his other hand. Clyde.
Muffy was under the table, looking like she was about to attack his leg.
“Get away from my daughter,” I said in a shaky voice.
“You don’t sound so high and mighty now,” Clyde said with an evil grin. The previous summer, Carmichael had sent him to bring me to Carmichael’s property for a chat with his boss. I’d been kidnapped—no if, ands, or buts about it—and I’d snatched his gun and held it on Carmichael. I had no idea what he would have done if I hadn’t gotten the upper hand, but I was fairly certain I was about to find out.
“Are you gonna invite me in?” Carmichael called out from the front, his snide tone holding plenty of bite. He still stood at the opening of my front door.
“Let him in, Witt,” I said, finally getting control of myself. I might be terrified, but Hope’s life depended on how I handled this, which meant I needed to pull it together.
Witt followed Carmichael into the kitchen as I rushed over to my daughter and slapped Clyde’s hand away. “Don’t you touch my daughter,” I said through gritted teeth.
Muffy released a sharp bark to back me up.
“That’s no way to talk to your guests,” Carmichael said, meandering around the kitchen. “Quite a homey place you have here.”
Muffy’s growl deepened, and I worried she’d launch herself at him. Carmichael and his buddy wouldn’t think twice about shooting her. “Muffy,” I snapped.
She quieted, looking hurt by my reprimand.
Part of me wanted to snatch Hope out of her seat and hold her close, but the rest wanted both hands free in case I needed to reach for my gun. She was likely safer in her seat.
Witt, who also seemed concerned for Hope’s safety, moved over to stand in front of her, providing cover should either of them try to shoot her.
“Enough with the theatrics, Denny Carmichael,” I said. “I never took you to be interested in drama.”
“Well,” he said, grabbing the big spoon in the pasta salad bowl on the table and scooping out a big bite. He shoved about half of it into his mouth, then said through a mouthful of food, “Maybe I’m doing it to please you. I always thought you liked drama, with your costumes and all.”
The hat and veil I’d worn in my early days as the Lady in Black. “I gave that up over a year ago when my identity became known, and you know it. If you want to have a chat, get on with it. You’re interrupting our dinner.”
His gaze jerked to mine, and a hard look filled his eyes. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“That’s none of your damn business,” I said, taking a step toward him since Witt was covering Hope. “You can’t just show up at my house, barge in, threaten my daughter, and expect me to jump.”
He dropped the spoon on the table. It hit with a clatter that echoed eerily throughout the room. “It seems like threatenin’ your daughter is exactly what gets you to jump,” he said with a sly grin.
“I don’t work that way, and you damn well know it.”
“So we should just shoot your daughter then?” he asked, his brow raised in a quizzical look.
“You’d be stupid to try it,” I said, trying to hide my terror with a no-nonsense attitude. “First of all, you hurt my daughter, and I guaran-damn-tee you that I will never help you with anything.” Hands clenched at my sides, I steeled my back and held his gaze with a dark look of my own. “My daughter is off limits or I will end you, Denny Carmichael.”
We had a staring match for several seconds before he broke eye contact and turned to his man. “Stand down.”
I had no idea what Clyde’s reaction was, because I didn’t dare take my gaze off Carmichael. “Did he stand down, Witt?”
“I’d prefer him to head out the back door and off your property,” Witt said, his voice gravelly, “but yeah, he stood down.”
“Now what the hell do you want with me, Carmichael?” I demanded.
“I need to know when and where Malcolm is havin’ his big meetin’.”
I lifted my chin. “Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t work with Malcolm anymore. Not since I discovered he was workin’ with Hardshaw. I thought we’d established that in our meetings last fall.”
He pointed a finger at me. “Now that is still common ground for us to stand upon. Our mutual distaste for Hardshaw.” When I didn’t say anything, he said, “Don’t you agree?”
“At the moment, I’m trying to get past the fact you barged into my house and threatened my daughter’s life. If you’ve learned nothing about me over the last year, you should know by now that if you want to talk to me, you will treat me with respect.”
He laughed. “Yeah, you’re big on respect, but you gotta give it to earn it.”
“Then I’m not sure why we’re havin’ this conversation,” I said in a haughty tone. “Because you haven’t shown me one iota of respect since you showed up at my front door.”
He held out his hand and turned it palm up. “Touché.” He resumed his jaunt around the room, stopping at the back windows to look out at the barn. Behind Hope. Witt still stood watch, but Carmichael could easily draw his gun and shoot my daughter through the back of her seat.
Everything in me screamed to grab her and run, but my gut told me that I needed to stand up to this man. He’d only respect me if I was strong, and I needed that respect if I had any hope of getting us out of this alive.
“Did you store guns in my barn?” I asked.
He laughed, still looking out the window. “You think I’m gonna admit it if I did?”
“Why not? You seem pretty cocky about your accomplishments.”
He turned to face me, leveling me with a menacing glare. “You don’t know a damn thing about my accomplishments.”
“I find it hard to believe a proud man such as yourself would keep them hidden,” I said. “You seem more like the braggin’ type.”
“A time to plant and a time to harvest,” he said, then added with a mocking grin, “Ecclesiastes 3:2. I’ve been plantin’ my seeds, and it’s about time to harvest, just like the Good Book says.”
Witt released a short bark. “I never took you for a God-fearin’ man, Carmichael.�
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He grinned wider. “I’m more of an Old Testament kind of guy. You know, an eye for an eye.” He winked at me. “That’s more my speed.”
“I have a motto of my own.” I held his gaze for a second. “Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched.”
Chuckling, he resumed his walk around the large kitchen, moving to the back door and peering out the window at the still-hot grill. Then his gaze shifted to the security keypad next to the back door, and he stared at it for several tense seconds before he swung his head around to face me. “You think this is gonna protect you this far out of town?” he asked, sounding amused.
“I can usually hold off trouble until help arrives.”
He reached behind his back and pulled out his gun, aiming it at my head.
Muffy resumed growling.
“You think so?” Carmichael asked, cocking his head with a gleeful look in his eyes. “How about I trip the alarm, and we see how long you can hold me off?”
“Get the hell out of my house, Denny Carmichael,” I said, my hands balled into fists at my sides. My left hand brushed against the gun strapped to my thigh, but there was no way I could get it out without getting me, Witt, or Hope shot.
He motioned with his free hand. “Seems like you’re in no position to be negotiatin’.”
“Then you obviously haven’t been listenin’,” I said. “Threatenin’ me, my child, or anyone I care about will only make me not help you. You yourself said we share a common goal—to stop Hardshaw. Seems to me you should have led with that.”
“You will help me, Rose Gardner,” he spat out, his face reddening with anger.
“Maybe I will,” I admitted, “because I suspect you and me workin’ as a united front could be strong enough to force them out of this county for good, but unfortunately for you, it’s not gonna happen tonight.” I took a step toward him. “If you wish to try again tomorrow, and you approach me in a respectful manner, then I’ll be willing to listen. If not, we’ll be permanently finished.”
“I could just shoot you and be done with it,” he sneered.
“You could,” I admitted, “but then you wouldn’t get what you came for. So put your damn gun away, or I’ll refuse to help you tomorrow too.”
He continued to glare at me, teeth gritted, then lowered his gun as he lifted his shoulders into a lazy shrug. “I tried to make it easier on you, Lady. I came to you. Next time you’re gonna have to come to me.”
I nodded slightly. “But I’m not comin’ alone. I’ll be bringing someone with me.”
He snorted in amusement, then said, “You bringin’ your boyfriend? The chief deputy sheriff?” He motioned to Witt. “I wouldn’t bring this guy. He’s worthless.”
Carmichael’s buddy snickered.
Witt released a low growl to match Muffy’s, and Carmichael laughed. “Tomorrow morning. Nine sharp. I presume you remember how to get to my place.”
“I do,” I forced out, pissed as hell at how he was talking to Witt.
Carmichael turned and headed for the front door, his buddy trailing behind him.
“Stay with Hope,” I said to Witt, pulling my gun from my thigh strap and trailing them to the front door.
Carmichael stopped and glanced over his shoulder at me, chuckling when he saw my gun. “That verse was only part of Ecclesiastes 3:2,” he said with a cocky grin. “The first part is ‘A time to be born, a time to die.’ We’re all gonna be buried in the ground at some point, Lady. Some of us much sooner than nature intended.” He jutted his head forward with a dark gaze that barely contained the cruelty spilling out of him. “Do not underestimate me.” Then he headed down the steps, Clyde a few steps in front of him.
I held up my gun, aiming for his back. My finger was on the trigger, and everything in me screamed to shoot. He was a madman capable of horrible things, and I had the power to end that.
The only thing that stopped me was because shooting him in the back would be murder, plain and simple. There would be no justifying that. I really did think his forces and mine could send Hardshaw packing, but I was beginning to have serious doubts that a collaboration would work. The man was a murdering sociopath. How could I agree to work with someone who’d just threatened to murder my six-week-old daughter? Even if we did work together, and we managed to push Hardshaw out of the county for good, where would that leave us?
Carmichael and his man strode toward the drive that led to the highway, and I realized they’d parked on the highway to give themselves the element of surprise.
As soon as they were out of sight, I slipped my gun back in its holster and reached for my phone, calling the one person I trusted to help me with all of this. As soon as he answered, I steeled my back so I wouldn’t break down. “Dermot, I hope you’re free tomorrow because we have an appointment with Denny Carmichael at nine a.m.”
Chapter 17
“Say what?”
“Carmichael and his buddy just paid me a visit.” Instinct screamed for me to go to Hope and hold her close, but I knew the minute she was in my arms, I’d fall to pieces. I needed to take care of business first.
“Were you alone?” he demanded, sounding panicked.
“Witt was with me, but Denny’s man snuck in through the back door and threatened Hope while she was in her bouncy seat.”
“That son of a bitch,” he growled. “I’m gonna kill the bastard myself.”
“I think Witt’s first in line for that task,” I said. “I’m pretty sure he’s gonna feel responsible for this.”
“What happened?”
I told him everything, and he was silent for a long moment before he said, “If Witt had shot Carmichael on the porch, Hope would be dead right now. So you make sure he knows that.”
A burning lump filled my throat, and I pushed out, “I will.” I couldn’t let myself dwell on that scenario.
“I take it all the deputies are gone.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’m gonna send some men to watch the property and make sure no one’s goin’ in who shouldn’t be there.”
“How will they know who shouldn’t be here?”
“Please,” he said as though I’d asked why water was wet. “I’ll swing by to pick you up at eight thirty tomorrow morning, but the next question is who do you trust to watch Hope?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought for certain you’d say Carlisle and Neely Kate, and then the real dilemma would be how to keep them from going with us.”
“Yeah, well,” I said, then took a deep breath. “They have their own baby issues goin’ on.”
He was silent for a moment as though processing what I wasn’t saying. “What about the woman who runs the nursery? Deveraux’s mother?”
I hadn’t explicitly mentioned Maeve to him, so the comment surprised me…or maybe it didn’t. I just wasn’t sure what to make of it. “She can and will watch her, but Maeve can’t protect her.”
“I’ll take care of that part,” he said. “So how about we meet at the nursery at eight forty?”
“Yeah,” I said, wondering how he planned to take care of it, but I trusted him with our lives. “Okay.”
“Rose?” he said. “One more thing.” He paused. “Roberta Hanover is missing.”
“What?”
“When I sent my guys to the convenience store to check on her, she was gone. Her car was still in the lot, but her co-worker said she’d left several hours earlier. He said someone else had come in askin’ about her. A guy. He drove the white sedan that was parked in the lot most of the day.”
“The guy who had been watchin’ her. She must have slipped out the back. At least we know he and the people he works for don’t have her. She’s hiding.”
“Well, let’s hope she reaches out to you soon,” Dermot said. “Let me know if she does.”
“I will, and Dermot?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Lady.” Then he hung up.
Scanning the drive to the highway, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to face Witt. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
He was in the kitchen, cradling Hope to his chest and looking like he was near tears. His face fell the moment he saw me. “Rose,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
I knew Witt well enough to know coddling wouldn’t do any good. Instead, I lifted my chin and said with plenty of attitude, “What the hell for?”
His eyes widened. “I let you down. They almost…Hope…”
I gave him a stern gaze. “You didn’t let me down. You did everything you could have done.”
“If I’d just shot him on the porch—”
“Carmichael’s goon would have killed Hope.”
He started to protest, but I gave a slight shake of my head. “No. You know he would have, and Dermot just said the same thing. If she’d been killed because you up and shot Carmichael, then how would you feel?”
His chin trembled. “I left her alone in the kitchen when I followed you to the door. They could have killed her.” He held her tighter.
A wave of fear made me lightheaded, but I took another breath, waiting for it to pass. “Yes,” I said, trying to sound strong, but I was closer to falling apart than I would have liked. “But they didn’t. Mistakes were made. I was too lax. Too trusting of my damn vision. I should have been more careful. I should have locked the back door too.”
Witt glanced down at Hope, then kissed the top of her head and handed her to me. “I swear to you, Rose, I will never let her get that close to danger again.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. My knees felt weak, and I held her so tight I worried I was smothering her, but she snuggled into me, looking sleepy. Tears burned my eyes, but I didn’t want to fall apart in front of Witt. “I’m gonna take her upstairs and change her diaper. You can eat if you like.”
“I’ve lost my appetite,” he grunted, staring at the bowl of pasta salad, a few pieces of macaroni scattered on the table.