“Considering that I didn’t know the happy couple and therefore wasn’t invited, I don’t know why that would be surprising,” she rebutted. “What exactly are you accusing us of, Quinn?”
“Collusion, for starters. Murder for another.” I stuffed the cards back in my jeans pocket and pulled my eReader from the back of my jeans, under my belt. “Does this look familiar to you, SD?”
He shrugged. “No, should it?”
“You used it to track me down, sending your goons to almost kill me.”
“Such dramatics,” he retorted. “That’s why you keep screwing up at work, because you like to be dramatic.”
Ignoring his bullshit, I filtered through the millions of questions I wanted to ask before he killed me. “Can I expect to see Bowers waiting for me at my car?”
“Bowers was an ass kisser and an idiot,” Gossett said. “That made him useful.”
My stomach twisted in knots. “What do you mean, was?”
“I heard that he got a little too inquisitive and stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?” I asked accusingly, bracing myself emotionally for the answer.
“Not me personally,” he divulged.
“You bastard!”
“Hettie, he’s playing you, Bowers is not dead,” Alcabú informed me over the earpiece.
He was testing me. The bastard was watching my reactions to his taunting.
“By the way,” Gossett said. “How is your father? Feeling better I hope.”
He knows. He knows my father is in the hospital. The last text that I got from Hank said that Dad was in recovery and doing well. That was a tremendous load off of my mind, but Gossett threatening him made my anxiety three times worse. I was boiling mad, but now was not the time to lose my cool. We were playing a game, and it was my move.
“He’s doing just fine, surrounded by all his friends and colleagues,” I replied. “They’ve practically moved in with him and won’t leave his side.”
He got my message, but he smiled at me again. A sick, condescending smile that told me he understood, but he wasn’t too worried about it. At least that was what he wanted me to believe. But his right eye twitched. Dead giveaway, you bastard.
He slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “Enough of this farce.” He turned and faced me, holding his wrist up to his mouth. “Go ahead.”
“Who are you talking to?” I demanded.
“Hettie, we’re losing the reception. Do you copy? Hett—”
Shit, he’s jamming us. I slipped my hand under my jacket and turned on the mini-recorder. I was prepared for that contingency, but would have preferred that the FBI hear the conversation, too.
At the same time, he reached over, pressed his hand down on my bad shoulder, and squeezed. “Move your hands out where I can see them, Quinn.”
He thought I was going for my gun. Twisting under the pain, I put both hands on my legs.
“What is the meaning of this, Gossett?” Krauss asked.
He smiled, squeezed my shoulder again, and then turned to her.
I glared at him, wishing it were real daggers coming out of my eyes. Once the pain in my shoulder subsided, I felt something warm and liquid on my shirt, running down my skin. He had opened up my wound again.
“Nothing to worry about, Chief. You see, Quinn was eavesdropping on us, but I am now jamming the signal.” He turned back to me. “Who was listening, Deputy?”
I shrugged and played dumb.
“Fine. They can’t hear you now, anyway, so hand me your earpiece, wire, and gun,” he demanded, holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, I pulled the earwig from my ear and tossed it to him. He let it bounce off his chest and hit the concrete. Stomping on it, he held out his hand again, waiting for me to unclip the microphone. I tossed it on the ground, and he stepped on it also.
“And now your gun. Nice and easy, with your other hand.”
Grimacing at the pain resonating in my shoulder again, I reached across and pulled my weapon from its holster. I handed it to him, and he pointed it back at me.
“Don’t get any ideas, Quinn,” he warned. “As you can see, I brought friends.”
He waved my gun toward the bottom of the stairs on the right. There were two men, whom I didn’t recognize, standing on either side of the handrail. I didn’t have to know them to know their type. Hired thugs.
“Since I’m going to die anyway, I have a right to know who was at the end of the money train. Who did the embezzling and who benefited from it?”
“Shit, Quinn. You’re dumber than I thought if you hadn’t figured it out by now.”
“What’s she talking about, Gossett?” Krauss asked.
“I’m talking about a group that plans to put a candidate in office who will make America straight again,” I explained, watching for Gossett’s reaction.
He reared his head back and laughed. “That’s at the top of the list to be sure. But don’t worry, Quinn. You’ll have plenty of company in the back of that closet.”
“America would never elect a candidate who suppresses its own people,” I said.
“Have you been living in a cave or something, Quinn? Times are changing fast now that the black president is gone. People will either join our cause or wish they had.”
“And you think Senator Peterson will lead your cause?” I asked, baiting him. “Don’t make me laugh. That man is weak, indecisive. He’ll never be voted in by the people.”
“Candidates aren’t elected by popular vote, remember? All you need is enough money to buy your way in. The people’s vote won’t matter. Peterson is already halfway in office, and the elections are still two years away.”
“I don’t care about your damn cause or your candidate, Gossett. I don’t believe that Peterson masterminded this whole thing by himself. I think you helped.”
“You give me too much credit, Quinn,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sure there are others helping you,” I added.
He puffed his chest out. “It helps when you have connections in high places. How do you think I rose in the ranks so fast?” He looked over at Krauss and winked.
That explained a lot. He was only using his position to rise in the ranks, and Krauss’s job was his next stop. “The Feds have a few connections of their own, you know,” I reminded him.
“Yes, and they work for the same group that I do,” he refuted. “Now get up, we’re going to take a little trip.”
Krauss scooted down the bench but he caught her before she stood up. “Where do you think you’re going, lady?”
I held out my hand. “No, wait.”
“Her blood will be on your hands, Quinn,” he threatened, pointing my pistol at her. “You should have cooperated from the start and all of this would be unnecessary.”
I need to keep him talking until he named the others. “Look, I get that Robert Schmidt, CEO at Green Market Trust, was the embezzler, funneling money into your candidate’s campaign.”
“You’re right, Hettie,” Krauss acknowledged. “According to the Feds, Schmidt and Peterson were fourth cousins and started their own private militia in Texas. They’ve grown it into a national organization of heavily armed extremists seeking to put Peterson in office.”
“Unfortunately,” I added, “the bank manager, Todd Yarbrough, caught on to the embezzling and spent a couple of years gathering evidence to turn over to the FBI. It was when he contacted the FBI that you came into the picture, Gossett. You were the enforcer and your informant at the FBI let you know Yarbrough was getting too close. Connect the dots for me. Why did you go in the back and let Peyton go in the front when you killed the Yarbroughs? Seemed sloppy to me.”
“Simple. He was a scapegoat for the cause,” Gossett explained smugly. “The girl came back early, and Peyton went out the front door to buy me some time to get away.”
“Okay, that makes sense,” I confessed. “But what I can’t figure out was how you found out I was b
eing transferred to WITSEC?”
“I don’t see how you had such a good record at solving sex crime cases, Quinn, when you can’t even figure out the simplest of clues.”
I shook my head. “You hold all the cards here, SD. Enlighten me.”
“It was so obvious. Dr. Thomas Roberts, the Feds headshrinker. He kept tabs on your girl.”
“He was not FBI,” Krauss corrected him.
“Doesn’t matter, he had connections,” Gossett challenged.
“It matters to me,” she stated. He started to argue, and she frowned angrily. “Oh, just get on with it, Gossett.”
“Fine. Quinn, give me those cards,” he demanded, holding out his hand.
“Sure, so you can have your goons shoot me again.”
“Yes, but this time, they will make sure they finish the job.”
I turned to Krauss and asked, “Have you heard enough?”
“Yes. A lot more than I expected,” she replied, “He really likes to hear himself talk, doesn’t he?” She stood up and waved her hand in the air, then she turned back to Gossett. “You are under arrest for murder, collusion to commit murder, conspiracy, and any number of other charges we can come up with.”
A squad of FBI and U.S. Marshal Agents came running up with their weapons drawn. It was a sight to be seen.
“You don’t have anything on me,” he growled, looking down at the crushed microphone. “You have no proof.”
I glanced over my shoulder and watched as they chased down one of Gossett’s men who was trying to get away and pinned him to the ground. Then I turned back to Gossett and pulled out the mini-recorder and waved it at him. “It was Krauss’ idea. We have more than enough evidence on you and now, thanks to her, we even have your confession.”
“Don’t forget the best part, Deputy Quinn,” Krauss said.
“Oh, yes. I must say, I’m so proud of the marshals and their ability to coordinate with the FBI, the IRS, and the Department of Justice to unilaterally take down your pathetic, demeaning organization.”
“You’re wrong, Quinn,” he said confidently. “You can’t arrest a sitting U.S. Senator. Regardless of whether I’m in jail or not, he’ll carry on our cause.”
“You’re half right,” I argued. “I did some research last night. While the senator is in session, he is safe, except in cases of treason, felony, or breach of the peace. If you ask me, he’s committed all three of those things.”
“You don’t have—”
Krauss cut him off. “The FBI has been watching your senator for years now and thanks to Hettie, had enough evidence to raid his house. They’re waiting for him at his home as we speak.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Not me. It was thanks to the brave young daughter who loved her parents too much to let their deaths go unchallenged.”
“I knew we should have killed the Yarbrough girl when we had the chance,” Gossett groused as the agents cuffed him.
“Well, thanks to you, I’m going to go make hot lesbian love to that Yarbrough girl,” I said with a satisfied grin.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Connie Yarbrough-Morrison
I waited impatiently for Angie to come out of the bathroom. “Has she called yet?” I asked the second she walked back into the waiting room.
“No, sorry. Not yet,” Angie replied over the sound of the toilet flushing.
She dried her hands on her blue jeans and picked up another slice of pizza from the coffee table. I was getting really tired of pizza for lunch. Henry had so many police friends visiting, that Angie and I had moved to the opposite side of the room to give them our seats. They said he might be moved to his hospital room today, so I guessed I’d need to wait for Hettie in our hotel room after that. I kinda wished I could stay with her family at the hospital, but that wasn’t realistic on my part.
It had been almost two days since I saw Hettie last. Two nights without her in the next bed, snoring. I miss that snore. Luckily, Angie had agreed to get a room next to mine, so at night I could lay there with Bubbles and imagine Hettie bursting through the door and taking me in her arms, telling me it was over. Telling me I was free with a kiss so deep my toes curled.
Instead, it was two days of Angie talking about how good it was when she and Hettie were dating. I didn’t want to hear that. Angie had her chance, and she’d passed on it. Should I take a backseat just because she’d changed her mind? Maybe the old Connie would have, but if Amanda had taught me anything, it was to stand up for myself.
“Hettie was such a stick in the mud sometimes,” Angie prattled on. “A little golden shower and she freaks out—”
“Um, would you mind if we’d talk about something else?” I asked, picking up the pizza box.
She grabbed another slice of pizza out of the box, nearly toppling it out of my hands.
“Oh, sorry. I thought you were finished,” I lied, then sat the box back down.
“You don’t like me much, do you?” she asked between bites.
I squared my shoulders and swallowed back my fear. “I just don’t like the way you treat Hettie.”
“How the hell do I treat her?” she challenged.
“You talk about her like she was your personal play toy.”
“She was. And I was hers.”
Jealousy stirred in the pit of my stomach, and I had a sudden urge to lash out at her. Completely unlike me but I didn’t care.
“Hettie should be respected, loved for her strength and nobility.”
“Don’t fool yourself, lady. She has a perverse side as well,” Angie countered.
“And that’s fine. I can get a little kinky behind closed doors, too. But I am one-hundred percent sure that it would hurt her to hear the way you talk about her.”
She tilted her head and studied me a moment. “Oh, I get it. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter, one way or the other,” I replied.
“It matters a great deal to me,” Hettie said from behind us.
“Hettie!” I jumped up and ran to her. “Thank God. You’re all right.”
She pulled me into her arms and kissed me. My toes curled, and I moaned with happiness. Oh, this feels so right.
“Never better, kid,” she said, releasing me. “Where’s my mom? How’s my dad?”
“Your dad’s doing much better and may be moved to a room today. Your mom is in with your dad, but the others are over there.”
Hettie turned to Angie and held out her hand. “Thanks so much for stepping up and protecting my girl.”
My girl. I tried not to giggle as the butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Even without Hettie saying so, I could tell the crisis was over. She wasn’t anxious anymore. Her eyes were clear and bright, and she kissed me in public. She even announced to Angie that I was her girl. Oh, yes, I’ve definitely jumped on that train.
“Your girl, huh?” Angie said.
Hettie met her eyes and nodded. “I can take it from here, Angie. Thanks again.”
Angie took her hand and shook it, glancing over at me. Finally, she shook her head and said, “Don’t be a stranger, Hettie.”
As she turned away, we walked over to the others.
“Het, there you are,” Kandi said. She stood up and hugged Hettie.
I started to walk away, but Hettie grabbed my hand, never taking her eyes off her sister.
“I got back as quick as I could, sis,” Hettie explained. “How are things going here?”
“Improving every day,” Kandi reported.
Hank walked over and joined us. “Nice of you to check on Dad, Henrietta.”
“Nice of you to make me feel worse than I already do, Junior,” Hettie hit back.
“Knock it off, you two,” Candace said as she walked up. “Hettie, is everything all right?”
I held my breath, waiting to hear the answer even though I already knew it.
“Yes, Mom. Everything has been taken care of.” Hettie wiggled my hand and looked at me. “It’s all right no
w.”
With that verification, I gasped for air as if I had been submerged in water. Hettie patted my hand and winked at me, and her simple gesture healed my soul.
“Good. I’m glad,” Candace said. She looked back at Hettie. “You look tired, dear. Why don’t you go get some rest?”
“All right, Mom. But can I see Dad, first?”
“He’ll be glad to see you. He’s in Pod 7.” Candace looked at me. “Why don’t you go with her, Amanda? I’m sure Henry will be happy to see you, also.”
Surprised, I asked, “Are you sure, Candace?” I was so relieved to see Hettie again that even a few minutes away from her now would feel like an eternity.
“Go on, honey,” she responded, shooing me on.
We walked past the volunteer desk, through the door, and into the ICU. The nurse looked up from her computer and nodded as we walked by.
“Hey, Dad, can we come in?”
The sliding glass door that separated his room from the hall was open but the curtain was pulled closed.
“Hettie, is that you?”
“Yeah, Dad,” Hettie affirmed, pulling the curtain back and walking in. “And Connie is with me.”
“Then things went well?” he asked.
He looked so pale and weak that I almost gasped. The strong, broad-shouldered man looked hollow, infirm.
“Don’t let appearances fool you, Connie. I’m a lot tougher than I look,” he said, and then winked at me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, yes, sir, I know. Hettie is a lot like you.”
“Well, thank you for the compliment,” he replied. “Now, Hettie, tell me everything. Did you figure it out?”
“Yeah, Dad. Thanks to you.”
I sat back and listened as Hettie told us both about the different agencies that came together to form a task force at the spur of the moment. She was practically glowing as she talked about the shocked look on Gossett’s face when she showed him the mini-recorder. I took deep satisfaction in knowing that the man who’d ordered my parents killed and my wife murdered, would be rotting in prison, hopefully for the rest of his life.
There was a tap on the door and a moment later, a nurse walked in. “Mr. Quinn, we’re kicking you out of here,” he said, checking Henry’s IV. “You’re too healthy to be in here now.”
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