by Iris Kincaid
“I have a question for you, Dax,” Roland began. “I know that you and Gemma have talked about getting married when you’re twenty. That’s such a long way away. Now, I know that you and Gemma are always going to be the best of friends, and you’re going to see each other all the time. That being the case, would you mind it terribly, and I’m just speaking hypothetically, but would you mind it terribly if she were to marry someone else?”
Anyone who could see the look on Dax’s face could tell that, yes, he minded terribly. In fact, that was a colossal understatement.
“No. She can’t marry anyone else. She has to marry me. She promised. Who else would she marry?” he huffed.
“Hmm. Well, what would you think, again, hypothetically, if Gemma were to marry me?”
Gemma inhaled sharply. What a crazy, indirect way to receive a marriage proposal. But still, very, very thrilling.
The adults watched Dax’s face transform from anger to bewilderment to something that looked a lot like excitement.
“Gemma, are you and Daddy going to get married?”
“Would you like that?” Gemma asked, surprised and relieved at his change of attitude.
“And then you would live with us, wouldn’t you? And you could read to me every night. And Daddy wouldn’t ever have to take me to Mommy and Me movies again. You would do it. You and I would do Mommy and Me.”
Gemma and Roland exchanged looks. Of course, Dax hadn’t really wanted a girlfriend or a wife, or even a superhero friend. He had wanted Mommy and Me.
Career woes. Solving murders. All else receded from the moment as three ecstatic individuals contemplated the very ordinary and wonderful prospect of becoming a family.
*****
What on earth was Neil Donovan up to? Gemma had followed him in her car and was watching him sitting in his own car for a full twenty minutes. It was a little bizarre. He wasn’t talking on his phone. He wasn’t reading anything. He wasn’t even listening to the radio. He was just sitting in his car.
He did keep looking across the street quite often, and Gemma wondered if he was waiting for someone. Still, if he was going to meet someone, wouldn’t they meet at some designated spot, like a restaurant or a bar or a . . . bank? A bank didn’t seem like a very likely meeting spot, but the more that Gemma followed Neil’s gaze, the more it seemed as if he was staring at the bank across the street.
Was there someone in the bank that he needed to see? Gemma’s inquiring mind needed to know. Doing her best to keep her back to Neil, she quickly crossed the street, went straight to the bank’s entrance, and slipped inside. Her first surreal impression was that everyone stopped what they were doing to look at her. Her second impression was that she’d just walked into a bank robbery in progress.
There was a man with a ski mask on in the middle the floor, holding a gun at her.
“Get away from the door. Don’t even think about running out,” the robber ordered. “You come right over here, sweetheart. I got what I came to get. You folks are very smart, very cooperative. You keep being smart and no one gets hurt. Get over here, girl.”
Gemma complied.
“Now, I think I’m going to have this sweet thing walk out with me and take her for a ride. So, if any of you are thinking of calling the police, you keep that in mind. I do not want anyone to walk out that door for another ten minutes. And I do not want to hear a siren anywhere in this town for another ten minutes. Or that’s going to be the end of this young lady. Does everybody understand?”
As the robber looked around the bank to make sure that everyone was sufficiently docile and obedient, Gemma quickly grabbed his gun hand and pointed it to the floor. The infuriated man struggled in vain, but much like the purse snatcher, he had met his match. He could not move his hand from where Gemma held it fast, and with a tight, painful squeeze on her part, he was forced to drop the gun, which Gemma kicked to the other side of the room, where it was picked up by the bank manager.
Gemma reached over with her other hand to pull the ski mask off the struggling man and was startled to see a moderately familiar face. It was the tough guy who had met with Neil Donovan at the diner, scheming together, looking over maps and diagrams. Neil Donovan—who was outside waiting. In the getaway car.
The robber tried to swing a few punches at Gemma. Bad idea. She dropped him to his knees on the floor and had him locked down like a pro wrestling match.
The police arrived, including Finn, and the robber was taken into custody. While the other customers were having their statements taken, Gemma led Finn outside to see if Neil was still there. His car was empty. But after a moment, he walked out of a nearby pizza shop, holding a large box of pizza and glancing around nervously as he got into his car and drove away. Nice effort. Who would suspect the man in the middle of a pizza run to be part of a robbery? He must have thought of that when the police arrived.
“I just thought of this. Remember that conversation I told you about with Neil and Hugo, when Neil said that no one was going to get hurt this time? This is what he was talking about,” Gemma said to Finn. “But, talking about this time means that there was a last time.”
Finn nodded. “Neil and Hugo—bank robbers.”
And undoubtedly, the late Zander Knox had been their partner in crime.
“All this excitement made me forget some interesting news I wanted to tell you,” Finn said. “It’s not as interesting as a bank robbery. But then again, maybe it is. We get lots of news back at the station—news about things involving the police community, fugitives on the run, stuff like that. Well, last week, there was a really heartwarming story about the family of this security guard who had been killed in a bank robbery fifteen years ago. Three bank robbers, never captured. They got away with over three million dollars.
“The security guard was a former cop, just trying to pull in a few bucks until his pension kicked in. Left behind a wife, two teenage kids, and a lot of friends and family. Lot of commendations. Really good guy. But it turned into a cold case. Big mystery. Over the years, his family received anonymous cash donations in the mail – twenty thousand, one year. Fifty thousand, the next. That went on for about ten years after the robbery. And then last week, his widow gets this big package in the mail. A box full of cash. Can you guess how much? Two hundred and eighty-five thousand dollars in cash. Sound familiar?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It only took one question to disarm Hugo Shipley and reduce him to tears.
“Which one of you killed the guard?” Finn asked.
Hugo shook his head with reluctance.
“Hugo, we know you want to do the right thing,” Gemma said. “That’s why you sent the guard’s wife all of that money that you got from Zander. You wanted to try and help make things right. That’s why you have to tell us everything.”
Hugo tried to gather himself. “I always wanted to confess about the robbery. But I had to promise Zander that I would never betray him. Because we all knew he would probably have gotten the death penalty . . . for the shooting. I kept quiet for the sake of our friendship. Because I didn’t want to ruin his life. But I always wanted him to come clean and face the consequences. He just didn’t have it in him.
“I did what I could to help the guard’s family out. I had to keep mailing the money packages from different cities, so it couldn’t be traced. And I did insist that Zander make me his sole beneficiary. Even if it wasn’t for another forty years, I thought that his money should go to that family. That was what I demanded for my silence. And since it wasn’t going to affect him while he was alive, he agreed to it.”
“Zander may be gone, but that guard’s family still needs closure. They still need to hear the truth. Are you going to be willing to testify? I know it means admitting your own involvement. I can’t lie to you. There’s going to be jail time. But . . . I suspect your sending restitution will go a long way toward a mild sentence. Plus, some real remorse. Plus, your age at the time,” Finn said.
“I’m ready
to serve my time. I’m so sick of carrying this around with me. I just don’t know about Neil. I also promised him that I wouldn’t tell.”
“Neil just tried to rob another bank. So, all bets are off,” Finn said gruffly. “I’ve got just one last question for you. Do you know who killed Zander? Could Neil have done it?”
“Of course not. They were buddies. Why would you think such a thing?”
“Neil was hard up for money. Lost it all gambling, I gather. And he was so surprised that Zander left his money to you that I’m thinking he expected it was going to be his. He was wrong. But if that’s what he thought, that’s motive.”
Hugo asked for a few hours to get his affairs in order and promised to turn himself into the police station that same evening. Finn and Gemma could feel that he was actually telling the truth, and they left him to wrap up his life while they went in pursuit of Neil.
But there was no car at Neil’s home and no answer at the door. Finn did get an incoming call. A profusely apologetic Hugo admitted that he had called Neil because he wanted to tell his old friend that the game was over and that it was time to turn themselves in and face the consequences of a stupid, thoughtless, tragic road trip they had taken together as young men.
But Neil had no intention of going quietly. He had always known that if they were ever caught, that he and Hugo would be punished excessively for being involved in a bank robbery that involved a guard being killed. It wouldn’t matter that Zander had been the one to pull the trigger. He would be seen as an accessory to murder and would probably be put away for life. And unlike Hugo, he wasn’t feeling a real urge to do penance for past crimes.
Finn called the police and set up some blockade perimeters.
“Why don’t you go get some rest?” Finn told Gemma. “I’ll let you know when they spot Neil.”
That sounded fine by Gemma. It had already been a big day. She drove over to the daycare center, where she had gotten into the habit of dropping off Ping-Pong. She waved at Dax and Bethany and carried Ping-Pong out, promising the kids that they would see him soon.
Gemma had heard of an enormous pet store that she wanted to check out, and she might as well do it right now when she finally had a few spare hours. It was a couple of miles away from the center of town. Just as described, it was massive. There was a cat play area so that owners could figure out which toys their cats might enjoy the most. Ping-Pong was in heaven.
They finally left after half an hour, with just a couple of new throw toys in hand. But there was some bigger stuff that Gemma wanted to return for as soon as she had a little money. As she was about to get into her car, she saw a navy-blue car stopped at the nearest light. It was Neil Donovan’s car! Clutching Ping-Pong closely, she ran behind it and gave the back tire a swift kick, which completely punctured it. The car wobbled away several hundred feet as Gemma debated what to do. Why, she should detain him, of course.
But as Gemma drew close to the car, Neil stepped out and pulled a gun on her.
“Don’t come any closer. Stay away from me. I’m not going to jail, and I don’t care what I have to do. I’ve got nothing to lose. So just keep away from me.” With one last angry look at his blown tire, he sprinted down a corner street.
Delphine had warned Gemma that she was not immortal and that she should not behave recklessly. Despite her capacity for quick healing, Gemma doubted that she could survive a bullet to the heart. Or to the head.
Maybe she should call the police. But Neil was so desperate, she could easily envision him initiating a bloody shootout. If she could only get close enough to Neil, she was positive that she could knock the gun out of his hand and restrain him. But getting close enough, that was the trick.
Quickly but cautiously, she ran after Neil, darting behind trees and keeping out of sight. Finally, she saw him duck into a new home, still under construction. It was still surrounded by ladders and scaffolding, and the interior stairs were built, but not all of the walls were in place.
Gemma quickly set Ping-Pong down outside and followed Neil in. She listened carefully for his whereabouts—he was upstairs. She tiptoed up quietly, determined what bedroom he had gone into, and went into the adjoining room to give herself a moment to think.
There are so many construction materials around. So much dust in the air. So much dust . . . Gemma let out a big sneeze. Oops. Immediately, a bullet came through the wall. And then another. Which made Gemma sufficiently angry that she flung her body against the wall and busted right through it, terrifying Neil and knocking him straight through the exterior wall. The two of them tumbled two floors down and landed in a heap on the ground.
The gun had been tossed several feet away. Neil was howling with pain. If Gemma had to guess, she thought he might have a broken leg and a few broken ribs. She herself was feeling no pain. Now it was time to call the police and an ambulance.
“I’m going to die. I know I’m going to die. I can feel myself bleeding inside. I’m not going to make it,” Neil agonized.
Now it was time for Gemma to agonize. She knew that she could relieve his suffering, but it would cost her strength for several hours. That was long enough for Neil to get the upper hand. And then her own survival would be in question.
From around the corner, Ping-Pong appeared. He had undoubtedly heard all the commotion. But instead of running to her, he ran to Neil. And patted him softly and licked his hand. Just as he had done with Bear, Bruce’s injured child. Ping-Pong knew this man needed help. He didn’t know that he was a criminal, only that he needed help. The cat looked over at Gemma expectantly.
There were so many ways that this could go wrong. But with Ping-Pong’s urging, Gemma knew that she had to help. Neil could be bleeding internally. On the other hand . . . on the other hand, a broken leg is not a fatal injury, and keeping it broken would ensure that Neil couldn’t turn the tables on her. She went over to him and knelt down and laid her hands on his ribs. Neil closed his eyes, as if in a trance, and opened them a full minute later.
“My ribs are okay now. The pain in my chest is gone. That part of me is all better. How did you do that?”
Gemma felt her own strength drain away. She felt as if she could barely stand, and so she remained on the ground.
“Well, if you must know, I’m a witch.” She pulled the cellphone out of her pocket and dialed Lorna’s number. “I’m going to need you to come over to Fortieth Street and Primrose—it’s the new house that’s under construction on the corner. Yeah, I’m going to need one of your amnesia specials, pronto.”
“Who did you call?” Neil asked.
“Another witch. So, I advise you to behave yourself.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ribs broken. Now ribs not broken. Got a better explanation?”
No, he didn’t. Neil became a fast believer in witches. What he didn’t realize was that Gemma’s powers were gone and that she didn’t want him to suspect otherwise.
“My leg. I need you to fix my leg.”
“And run away before the police get here. I don’t think so . . . It’s over, Neil. I know. The police know. Hugo is done with this secret.”
Neil was so thoroughly freaked out by Gemma’s witch revelation that he couldn’t even think of a way out of this situation. “Do you think that I might be put in the same prison as Hugo so that I could have a friend there?”
*****
Maintenance Check Required, read the sign on Gemma’s dashboard. She didn’t know the first thing about cars. And she didn’t really have a personal mechanic. So, she went to the only mechanic in town that she knew—Milo Stamp.
Milo was relieved that Gemma was there for car repair rather than for police business. As she waited for Milo to check her car, he gestured for a young man to come over and join him. It was his new intern, and apparently, the repair was something that his protégé could handle. The young man looked over at Gemma and smiled. She knew his face—he was Edison Jewell’s young friend.
Afterward,
she spoke to him, wondering how he and Edison had met.
“We were both in Mr. Stamp’s class. Edison was the best student, so he was one of the first interns that Mr. Stamp picked to help out in the shop. And he’s really, really good. But Edison never wanted to be a mechanic. He wanted a chance to go to college and do really big things. And I think he will. How do you know him?” The young man wondered.
How to answer that question—I know him because he hated Zander Knox and he hated Ty Santos, who are both dating his mother, who has a drinking problem, and he used his skills as a mechanic to rig bombs to kill both of these boyfriends. And with one of them, he was successful. This whole jigsaw puzzle has finally uncovered its missing piece.
“We just met recently—he was giving me good information on how to get into the community college,” Gemma explained weakly.
An hour later, Gemma was set to rendezvous with Finn and Lorna at Edison’s house. As she stepped out of her car, she could see that they had gotten there before her and were already inside. Gemma approached the walkway and was intercepted by, of all people, Zelda Beale.
“So, you finally figured it out, did you? Are you sending that wicked young man to prison?”
Gemma gasped suspiciously. “Did you have anything to do with this?’
“What? Burning Man? Zelda let out an evil laugh. “I suppose I could have done it directly myself, but it’s a lot more fun to compel someone else to do it and then sit back and enjoy the spectacle.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“I’ve already told you. I needed the ashes of a dark heart, and Zander Knox fit the bill very nicely. A complete waste of space. The way I see it, I did that young man a favor. As much as he hated Zander, he never could have done it on his own. Too weak.”
“He’s not a murderer,” Gemma said.
“He is now. But they say that jail builds character. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go home and watch my favorite movie again. Speed.” With another fiendish chuckle, Zelda sashayed down the street.