by Wendy Rosnau
Now, hours later, Margo was fast falling apart. Her eyes were swollen from hours of crying, and her head pounded like a too tightly wound clock. She had blisters on her heels from pacing, and her chewed lip was bleeding. Internally her frustration had turned into a melting pot of acid in the pit of her stomach. Sick couldn’t begin to describe how miserable she felt.
She couldn’t understand why Ry hadn’t called her back or come home. She’d left him a dozen messages at the precinct. Surely he’d gotten at least one of them.
Maybe if she started the house on fire that would get someone’s attention. She certainly wasn’t getting anywhere pacing or crying. As she contemplated searching the kitchen for matches, she heard Ry’s Blazer drive up. Matches forgotten, Margo raced through the back door and nearly toppled Jackson out of the hammock as he swung his long legs to the floor. Ignoring his verbal displeasure, she watched Ry climb out of the vehicle.
Past anxious, she yelled, “Where the hell have you been?” Not giving him time to answer, she added, “Didn’t you get any of my messages?” It was then she noticed his sober expression, and she snapped her mouth shut.
“I got the messages,” he said, strolling across the yard. “I wanted to see you in person.”
Margo’s stomach clenched. “Tell me, damn you. Tell me who it was.” He climbed the steps with slow deliberation. “Stick around, Jackson. There’s some things we need to talk over. But later, okay.”
“It’s Blu, isn’t it?” Panic engulfed Margo, and her imagination ran wild. She could see her brother’s face just before they dove into the water, hear his wonderful deep voice. “Tell me. Tell me, damn you!”
Margo was vaguely aware that Jackson had wandered down the steps and disappeared. Her throat froze up, and her tongue thickened as Ry took Jackson’s place on the veranda. She shook her head, tried to speak. When nothing came out, she grabbed the front of Ry’s shirt and balled it into her fist. “I’m sick of waiting. I want to know what’s happened to my brother!”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close, an action that made Margo’s blood run cold—he had horrible news to tell her. She was right—the body they had recovered was Blu’s body. Oh, God! Oh, God!
At that moment all Margo’s strength drained from her body and she sagged against Ry’s chest. He wrapped his arm around her and guided her back into the house. “Come on, baby, sit down.” He pushed her gently onto a chair at the kitchen table, then knelt in front of her.
Margo felt her sanity slip. She started crying again. “Please not Blu. Tell me they didn’t kill him, Ry. Tell me it’s all been a terrible mistake.”
Her body started to shake, and to keep from totally losing control, she wrapped her arms around herself. It was what she had feared all day, but she’d tried to convince herself that Blu was too smart to let something like this happen. Her brother was tough as shoe leather and twice as durable. He couldn’t be dead.
Ry gripped her arms and shook her a little. “Did you hear me? I said, tell me what you know, baby. Tell me who they are and why they were after Blu. If I’m going to be any good to you, I have to know what happened in Algiers the other night. Blu would want you to tell me, baby. He’s not here to help so you’re going to have to do it for him.”
He’s not here to help. Margo cried harder.
“I know it’s hard for you, baby, but try. The sooner I know what I’m up against, the better.”
She knew Ry was right. And she agreed—Blu would want her to tell the police what she knew. There was no reason not to now. She should have told Ry everything sooner. Maybe then…
More crying.
“Blu called me a few nights ago and asked me to meet him. He said he needed some pictures taken.” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “He called it an exchange. He said, ‘I want pictures of the exchange, Chili.”’ Margo started to cry in earnest. “He loved calling me that. It’s the reason I decided to use it as my stage name.”
“I know, baby. Keep going.”
“I don’t know what they were exchanging. I didn’t ask. But it must have been that key you found in my pocket. Blu gave it to me just before we dove into the river.”
“Back up and explain where you were when this happened.”
“I was in the alley behind Cruger’s Bar taking pictures when I heard the first two shots.” Margo squeezed her eyes shut for a moment remembering.
“Margo… Come on, baby. I need to know all of it.”
She blinked open her eyes. “The shots scared me, and I dropped the camera and it broke. The man with Blu was lying on the pier, and…I heard another shot.” Tears streamed down Margo’s cheeks. “That’s when I panicked and ran.”
“Ran?”
“Yes, to warn Blu to get off the pier.”
“You what… You headed into the line of fire?”
Confused by the sudden harshness in Ry’s voice, Margo watched him jerk to his feet. “I can’t believe you would do something so damn stupid! A crazy stunt like that could have cost you your life!” His face turned red with anger. Furious, his hand shot out and he drove his fist into the yellow wall, knocking the yellow clock to the floor and breaking it into pieces. “How dare Blu put you in that kind of position? When I find that arrogant little bastard brother of yours I’m going to kill him for real!” he roared.
Margo was sure she had heard wrong. Slowly she came to her feet. “Ry, you just—”
The look he gave her said it all. Instant relief swept over Margo, then instant outrage. “You lying bastard! You low-life snake! Disgusting worm!” She raised her fist.
Ry caught her arm. “Easy, baby. Hear me out.”
“How dare you!” She tried to break free, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“Settle down, Margo. You’re going to break open those damn stitches if you’re not careful.”
“To hell with the stitches! To hell with you!” He had purposely made her think that Blu was dead to glean information from her. How could he do something so despicable? So cruel?
“I’m trying to help you, dammit. And Blu, too. It might not look that way right now, but—”
“It sure as hell doesn’t.” Margo continued to fight him. Succeeding in twisting free, she hauled back and slapped him hard across the face. His head snapped back, her handprint remaining as a stinging reminder of the force behind her anger.
Within seconds he had wrestled her back into his arms. This time imprisoning her against his body. “Okay, I deserved that. But you’ve got to trust me now.”
“Ha!”
“Listen to me, dammit! We’ve got to stop playing games with each other. I don’t deserve your trust, but right now I need it. Yes, dammit, I lied. I pretended the stiff was Blu. It was the best I could do on short notice. I’m running out of time, and frankly so is Blu.”
Margo felt sick and empty. She would never forgive Ry for his calculated deception. It was the ultimate betrayal. “Let go of me. I don’t want you touching me. I don’t want you in the same room with me.”
He let her go and she took a step back. “Margo…”
“Go to hell.”
“Not before I solve this case. Whether you believe it or not I care about you. You’re smack in the middle of my case, yes, but that’s not what this is about. It’s about keeping you safe, and finding Blu alive.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” Margo held up her hand, not wanting to hear another lie. “No more. I won’t hear any more.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, baby. You’re going to hear plenty more.”
“I hate you!” She screamed, then reached out and knocked the dozen long-stem roses off the table in one angry, reckless motion. The vase crashed to the floor, the water spilling and the roses scattering.
“You can hate me all you want,” he offered, standing tall in the midst of her fury, “but you’re still going to listen to what I have to say.” Stepping over the roses, he stalked her.
“Two men are dead, and Brodie Hewitt’s
missing. If you think I’m going to sit back and watch you be the next victim you’re crazy.”
Cornered, with no place to go, Margo had to listen. “Brodie’s missing?” She felt her world tilt once more. “How do you know that? How can I believe you?”
“Pike. He came to the precinct and gave a statement. You can read it if you need to be convinced. The way I see it, both Blu and Brodie are up to their necks in something, and the only one who seems to give a damn about that right now is me.”
“I give a damn!”
“Then I suggest you pull yourself together and stop seeing me as the enemy. Or do you hate me more than you love Blu?”
She was right, Ry thought, he was a low-life snake, a selfish bastard who… Who would do whatever he had to, to keep her safe. Hadn’t he proven that two years ago? Margo just didn’t know who she was dealing with; he was the man who loved her, dammit! The man who had sacrificed everything to keep her alive and healthy. Only, she didn’t know that. She had no idea how he felt about her, or the reason behind his leaving her two years ago.
Seeing Margo hysterical and in tears had ripped his heart in two. She would never know how hard it had been to stand there and pretend that Blu was dead. But what he’d told her afterward was pure truth; Blu and Brodie were in the middle of something deadly, and could easily be killed, that is if they weren’t dead already.
All he needed was another damn body pulled from the river and…
Ry knelt to clean up the mess on the floor. He tried to rescue the roses, but in the end he tossed them in the garbage. When he had finished, he sank onto the chair at the kitchen table and lowered his head into his hands. The bottom line was Margo had to resign herself to the facts. She might hate him and hate working with him, but they were in this thing together for the long haul, like it or not.
Yes, he’d lied. But he hadn’t planned on deceiving her, not until he’d talked to the dispatcher the last time and had listened to Margo’s bizarre state of mind. At that moment, he had known just what buttons to push to get her to talk; after all, Margo cared for Blu with a passion that few siblings ever experienced. Yes, he was jealous of her fierce loyalty to her brother, but in this case he had used that loyalty to his advantage; Margo’s weakness had become her Achilles’ heel. A vulnerability he could use because he knew it would guarantee results.
Ry checked his watch. She’d been upstairs a long hour. In that time he had filled Jackson in on the situation, then sent his partner out to search for Goddard Reese. God was good about checking in, and he hadn’t.
His thoughts back on Margo, Ry wondered if she had cooled down any. If he went upstairs would they talk like two civilized adults, or would she throw something at him and demand he leave?
Ry stood, then slowly walked through the kitchen. He paused at the bottom of the stairs. Was he completely crazy to think that maybe after all this they still stood a chance?
He climbed the stairs and lingered a moment at his bedroom door with his hand poised on the knob. Before she had left him standing in the kitchen, she had given him one last look. The hate in her beautiful eyes had burned straight through to his soul. Would it still be there?
He could appreciate her anger, and maybe even live with her hate if in the end she was safe. Hell, all he’d ever wanted was for her to be alive and happy.
Ry opened the door and found Margo standing at the window. The plated moon had cast her heavenly curves in shadow, and the sight sent his blood pumping hard and fast. The day’s sultry heat hadn’t let up, and the room felt shut up and close. He moved to the air conditioner and turned it on. The sound made her turn around.
He knew he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation. “So what’s it going to be, baby? Are we partners, or do I put you in protective custody until this case is solved?”
On hearing his radical solution, her chin rose a fraction. “Protective custody? Why?”
“Because I can’t do my job and worry about where you are every minute of the day.”
“And if I say yes and tell you what I know, I can go home?”
“You don’t have a home, remember?”
“I do so,” she hissed.
“The answer’s no. I won’t let you leave here. I’ve got plenty of room. Once we’ve caught the people responsible for the killings, then we can—”
“There’s no ‘we,’ Detective Archard.”
Ry started over. “Okay, once I’ve apprehended the criminals, you can go where you want. How’s that?”
“I’m not afraid. This isn’t about me.”
“You’re wrong about that.” Ry took a step closer. “This involves anyone who knows anything about that night. And you were there. I don’t think you’re their primary target, but I don’t want you getting in the way of another stray bullet meant for Blu.”
“I don’t think that’s your call, Detective Archard. If I’m willing to take a bullet meant for my brother, that’s my business.”
“You’re crazy if you think I would stand by and let that happen. Last night—”
“Was just sex. We both agreed.”
“Last night was more than just sex and we both know it. If you’d be honest, you’d admit at least that much.”
“Oh, please. You’re chastising me about being honest.”
“I care about you.”
“It’s painfully clear what you care about, Ry, and it has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with that damn job of yours.”
“That’s not fair. This just happens to be my case, but that—”
She cut him off. “I made a bad choice coming here the other night, and I’m sorry about that. You don’t know just how sorry. But I would never have come if Blu hadn’t been so insistent. So you see, it wasn’t my idea. In fact, I refused at first, and then—”
“Wait a minute. It was Blu’s idea you come here? When did he suggest that?”
She stubbornly hesitated.
“Margo, if you ever hope to get out of this house before Christmas, you had better start talking.” Ry nailed her with hard eyes and a determined set to his jaw. “I mean it. You’re not leaving here the way things stand. The sooner I wrap up this case, the sooner you’ll be free to leave. Not a minute sooner.”
A long minute passed before she relented. “We were on the pier, Blu and me. The cop was dead. By the way, I didn’t know he was a cop until later when you told me. Anyway, the men who shot him suddenly came out from wherever they’d been hiding and started toward the pier. Blu said we needed to dive into the river to get away. I didn’t want to. He’d been shot in the leg, me in the arm. You know how I feel about water. I’m not the world’s greatest swimmer. I started to argue, but Blu wouldn’t listen. He said once I got away, I should swim to the Nightwing and have Brodie bring me here. He said no one would think to look for me in your home. I rejected the idea at first, then decided he was right.”
Ry thought a minute. It didn’t make sense, Blu suggesting Margo come to him, not unless… Unless Blu knew Margo was in serious danger and he wouldn’t be able to protect her. And Ry suspected Blu knew something else, too. He knew the incident on the pier was just the beginning—the beginning of something bigger.
One thing Ry had never questioned was Blu’s love for his sister. Even though he could be reckless as hell, Blu had taken on the male role in the duFray household after Carl had died. He’d watched over Margo like a possessive father, and he’d made sure the fish market remained on solid footing to keep his mother busy and financially independent.
So what was Blu trying to tell him? Ry wanted to know. What was in front of his eyes that he still couldn’t see?
“What about the key I found in your pocket? Did Blu say anything about the key?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Has Blu introduced you to anyone lately? Some new face, a special friend? Think, Margo. Have there been any new faces hanging around Blu? Did he mention a lucky opportunity he’d fallen on? Something that would ne
t him a big windfall?”
“No! I’ve already told you, I don’t know. There’s nothing I can tell you.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, dammit! Blu never talked business to me except to assure me that he wasn’t going to let Daddy’s fishing fleet fall apart. I know you think Blu is irresponsible, but he’s not. He’s got over thirty men working for him. They need regular paychecks. The repairs on the boats are a weekly problem. And then there’s Mama to consider. Her medical insurance eats up over half of the fish market’s profits.” She took a long-overdue breath. “I don’t need to go on, do I? I’ve never hidden how much I admire and love my brother. He doesn’t say one thing, then do another. What you see is what you get, as they say.”
What she was saying was that Blu was everything he wasn’t. It was hard to swallow, but the truth often is, when it’s labeling you the scum of the earth and your position is lower than the bottom of the heap.
Ry dug the key out of his pocket. “So Blu didn’t say anything specific about this key?”
“No! He joked that it had something to do with a treasure map, but…” Her eyes suddenly went wide. “And he said to give it to you if he didn’t show up in a couple of days. Oh, God! How could I have forgotten that part?”
Now they were getting somewhere. “A treasure map? You’re sure he said map?”
“Yes.” She sank into the paisley chair. “I don’t think he said anything else. But, my God, what if I’m forgetting something else? What if I’ve dismissed something really important?”
“Take it easy.” Ry walked over to the bed and sat on the edge facing her. “Did Brodie say anything that night? Did he imply he knew what was going on?”