Earl sidled up to Skye and Wally and said, “Fer a minute there, I thought we was fixin’ to need to take shelter in one of my new tornado-proof outhouses. They is six by six by seven and made out of rebar and concrete blocks with a steel-reinforced door.” He grinned, exhibiting his lone front tooth. “Youse knows that I’m selling them now, right?”
“I had no idea,” Skye answered.
Wally put his lips close to Skye’s ear and said softly, “The world is Earl’s oyster.”
“Yeah,” Skye whispered back. “Too bad he’s allergic to shellfish.”
Wally chuckled.
Earl scratched his head and asked, “Why ya laughing?”
Skye, feeling guilty for her mean humor, hastily said, “You know what they say, Earl. Laugh and people laugh with you, but cry and—”
“You have to blow yer nose,” Earl finished.
When was she going to learn not to use platitudes in front of Earl?
Clearing her throat, Skye tried to get back to where they were before the conversation had been sidetracked and asked, “When did you start building and selling tornado-proof outhouses?”
“When that insurance lady came to talk about our claim, she suggested it.” Earl puffed out his chest. “She said it was innervatif.”
Ignoring the last part of his statement, Skye blurted out, “You had insurance?”
“Ah course. On the dog pen.” Earl frowned. “But the lady turned us down.” His smile returned. “But I’m goin’ try again though ’cause I think she was just in a bad mood.”
“Oh?” Wally said, his voice mild, but his gaze sharp. “Why is that?”
“She was arguin’ something fierce with someone on her cell phone. Yellin’ that he had gotten exactly what he deserved and that he better not show up in Scumble River again or she was gettin’ a restrain’ order.”
Skye turned to Wally to ask if Paige’s cell had been found among her belongings or if it had been a casualty of the explosion when she heard a scream. Whirling toward the sound, she saw a short, pudgy man with a thatch of fading red hair standing at the tent’s entrance.
The guy turned slowly, scanning the tent until he faced the Doozier table, then he shouted, “Bunny Reid, get your arse over here immediately. I have a score to settle with you.”
It took Skye less than a nanosecond to figure out this man was the infamous Aiden O’Twomey and even less time to realize that all of Wally’s security measures had failed. Fear slammed into her chest. Her babies and everyone else were at the mercy of an enraged criminal.
As she stared in horror, O’Twomey pulled a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Bunny. The redhead leaped to her feet and backed away from the table, shoving at the people standing between her and the exit.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a gunshot and Wally pushed Skye to the floor.
Chapter 22
Baby, Have You Got a Little Love to Spare
Wally embraced Skye, covering her body with his own as she sobbed, “My babies. My babies.”
His wife’s eyes were glossy with unspeakable terror and Wally felt a sharp knife of guilt slam into his ribs. He had selected and hired the security team. The men’s failures were his own.
He put his lips next to Skye’s ear and said softly, “Keep still. The guy shot his gun at the ceiling. No one was hit and the twins are fine. Millicent Rose somehow slipped in behind O’Twomey. As soon as he started yelling, I saw her round up Martinez and Charlie and hustle them and the babies outside.”
While Wally had been soothing Skye, O’Twomey had started marching toward them. Bunny immediately kicked off her stilettos and took off running with the infuriated criminal hot on her trail.
Leaping up, Wally looked at Skye and ordered, “Stay here.”
Grabbing the gun from his ankle holster, he sprinted after O’Twomey and the fleeing redhead. As he ran, he took a quick look over his shoulder and groaned.
Skye was on her feet and following him, and Carson and Simon were a few steps behind her. Wally swore. Just what he needed. More civilians in the line of fire.
As Wally chased the odd couple, he kept glancing back. Skye’s high heels had been slowing her down, but she’d taken Bunny’s example and kicked off her shoes. Now she was only a few steps from catching up to him.
Returning his attention to his quarry, Wally saw that the redhead was trying to rip through one of the plastic windows, but her fingernails were no match for the heavy-duty vinyl. After a few futile seconds, Bunny gave up and darted among the few guests who had remained.
The people who had stayed had apparently thought O’Twomey was a part of the entertainment. However, as Bunny careened off a table, and a cowboy boot cake smashed to the floor, they seemed finally to figure out that this was no performance and their panicked screams ripped through the air.
Suddenly, people were running, tipping over tables as they scrambled to get away from the demented woman and the man chasing her. May’s elaborate shower was turning into a scene from a disaster movie.
O’Twomey zipped around an elderly couple who clung to each other, frozen in fear. Then as Bunny neared the head table, he closed in on the runaway redhead. At the same time, Carson and Simon, who had taken a different path, came at her from one side while Wally, followed by Skye, approached from the other.
The off-duty deputies that Wally had hired to work security were ushering the remaining guests out of the back exit. And with Martinez busy with Eva, and Quirk at the hospital with Tolman, Wally scanned the area looking for Anthony. His newest officer was his only possible backup, but Anserello was currently AWOL.
A cold sweat glued Wally’s shirt to his back and he prayed he could find a way to stop O’Twomey before he killed someone. There had been too many fatal shootings in the news for Wally to ignore the possibility that this could end badly.
With his gun drawn, O’Twomey shouted to Bunny, “Woman, what did you do with me bag?”
Bunny skidded to a stop inches from the head table. Her gaze jerked from O’Twomey to Simon to Carson, and then to Wally and Skye. Clearly realizing she was trapped, she raised her hands.
“It got burned up.” Tears streaked mascara down the older woman’s cheeks. “I knew you’d be mad and I didn’t know how to tell you.”
For a long second, the scene seemed frozen, but an instant later, Carson sprang into action. Tackling the much smaller O’Twomey, he knocked the gun from the bad guy’s hand. Both teetered for a moment, then, almost in slow motion, toppled backward.
With a giant smack, O’Twomey landed dead center in the line of rose centerpieces. An instant later, Carson followed, taking out the remaining flower arrangements.
Wally cringed as he simultaneously heard the table creak and saw the crystals vases fly into the air like popcorn from a hot skillet. They shattered on the faux wooden floor and glass fragments erupted upward like lava from Mount Vesuvius.
A split second later, Wally grabbed O’Twomey, hauled him to his feet, and recited, “You have the right to remain silent.” As Wally finished telling O’Twomey his rights, he handcuffed the man, turned to his father, and said, “Dad, please escort your girlfriend to the station.”
Before marching O’Twomey out of the tent, Wally met Skye’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I have to take him in.”
“Don’t worry. You go ahead.” She closed her eyes, doubtlessly picturing the messy situation she was being left to deal with alone, then smiled crookedly at him and said, “I’ll take care of all this.”
Wally’s heart filled with admiration for his wife and he mouthed silently to Skye, “Love you.”
People were already drifting back inside by the time Wally got O’Twomey out the door. He walked the subdued man from the tent to the driveway before realizing that he didn’t have a squad car to transport him.
Unwilling to put a dangerous felon in h
is own vehicle, due to the lack of safety features that a police cruiser possessed, Wally dug out his cell phone to ask for backup. But before he could make the call, Anthony came running over from behind the tent.
Breathlessly, he explained, “I was helping the off-duty deputies with crowd control. Need me to drive you, Chief? I’m on call so I have one of the squads.”
“Perfect.”
Wally and his officer put O’Twomey in the cruiser’s secure rear seat, and as they drove, Wally considered the whole state of affairs. Bunny had arrived in Scumble River a few years ago after a twenty-year absence from her son’s life. At the time, she’d been addicted to the painkillers she’d been given when she hurt her back and on probation for trying to forge prescriptions to obtain more of them. To stay out of jail, she’d had to attend Narcotics Anonymous meetings, find work, and establish a permanent address.
Wally thought that she’d been successful at fighting her addiction, but had Bunny fallen off the wagon? Had O’Twomey left her with drugs and she’d taken them rather than just hold on to them for him?
When they arrived at the police station, Anthony escorted O’Twomey through the front entrance with Wally following close behind the handcuffed prisoner.
Lonny, a part-time dispatcher, stood behind the counter and spoke through the intercom. “Chief, I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”
His high-pitched voice scraped Wally’s nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. Which was doubtlessly why Lonny was called in to work so infrequently.
“Me either.” Wally jerked his chin toward the interior door. “Buzz us in.”
“Sure.” Lonny started to salute, then stared at O’Twomey and asked, “Problem?”
“Not anymore.” Wally started to walk toward the doorway where Anthony stood with O’Twomey, but stopped and said, “My father should be here any second with Bunny Reid. Escort them to the interrogation room.”
“Uh…” Lonny fingered his mostly nonexistent mustache. “Where is that?”
“It’s the break room,” Wally explained. The dispatcher worked so rarely that he’d probably never been around when they’d had an active case. “We use it for interrogation when we have a prisoner to interview.”
“Got it. I’ll keep an eye out for your father.” Lonny hit the lock release.
Once the three men were over the threshold, Wally grabbed O’Twomey’s elbow and said, “I’ve got this, Anthony. Call Quirk and get an update on Tolman’s condition, then report back to me.”
“Yes, sir.” The young officer headed for one of the cubicles along the back wall.
Wally walked his prisoner a few more steps, stopped in front of the break/interrogation room at the end, and opened the door. It was a utilitarian space with a counter that ran the length of the sidewall and a long table took up most of the center area. A couple of vending machines occupied the rear.
O’Twomey had been silent up until now, but as Wally pushed him down on a chair and handcuffed him to the table leg, he said, “I want me lawyer.”
“Here.” Wally gave him the receiver from the wall-mounted telephone. “Go ahead and call him. Tell him we’ll be booking you for murder.”
“Murder!” O’Twomey screeched. “I shot the ceiling, not the bi—”
“Right. That will be a count of unlawful discharge of a weapon.” Wally grabbed the tape recorder from the cabinet and set it up. “But a woman was killed when you detonated the bomb at the bowling alley.”
“I had nothing to do with that!” O’Twomey shouted, his face as red as his hair. “Why would I? Me own property might be destroyed!”
Wally was pondering that question when the interrogation room door opened.
Anthony poked his head inside and said, “Paul’s doing much better. They’re keeping him overnight for observation, but if there are no surprises, they’ll release him in the morning. His wife is with him and Quirk is heading back.”
“That’s terrific news.” Wally took a relieved breath. The idea of someone under his command being seriously injured had been sitting heavily on his chest.
Anthony nodded and said, “Oh, and your father and Ms. Reid are here.”
“Show them in.” Wally waited silently as his dad and Bunny entered the room, then said, “Thanks, Dad.” Wally smiled gratefully at his father and asked, “Now can you return to the party and help Skye out with whatever guests stuck around?”
“Certainly.” Carson glanced at Bunny. “I’ll be back to bring you home.”
“I’ll take care of her.” Wally wasn’t entirely sure Bunny wouldn’t be sleeping in jail that night rather than at the motor court. It all depended on what was in the bag she was holding for O’Twomey.
“Okay.” Carson cleared his throat. “I’ll see you later then.”
Bunny was surprisingly quiet and obediently took the chair Wally indicated. Evidently, once she realized that this wasn’t a situation that fluttering lashes and cute giggles would solve, she’d resorted to silence.
O’Twomey still held the telephone receiver in his nicotine-stained fingers, but he hadn’t called his lawyer. Once Bunny and Wally were seated, he said, “If I can prove that I had nothing to do with the bombing, can you forget about the other charge?”
Before Wally answered O’Twomey’s question, he went through the spiel needed for the tape recording, announcing the date and time. He had O’Twomey and Bunny state their names and addresses, read them their rights, and made them aware they were being recorded.
Having waded through the formalities, Wally said, “Do you still want your attorney, Mr. O’Twomey?”
“No.”
“How about you, Ms. Reid?”
“No. Why would I need one?” Bunny’s posture was stiff and her shoulders tense. “I’m the victim.”
“Let’s start with what was in the bag that Mr. O’Twomey is so anxious to recover from you.” Wally looked between Bunny and her ex.
“I have no idea.” Bunny refused to meet Wally’s eyes, busying herself by dumping her purse on the table and searching the contents until she found a gold compact. She peered into the mirror and used a small brush to fluff her bright-red curls.
“Surely you know, Mr. O’Twomey.” Wally lifted a brow at the man.
“Half a mil. Me life savings,” O’Twomey said. “I’m between apartments and I didn’t have anywhere else to leave it while I visited me sick old mother in Ireland.”
“How about a bank?” Wally asked. “If you were worried about the ten-thousand-dollar cash deposit limit you could have used a safe deposit box.”
In all probability, the money O’Twomey had stashed with Bunny was a result of some criminal enterprise, but Wally didn’t fool himself into thinking he’d ever be able to prove that. Or arrest the man because of it.
“Nah.” O’Twomey shook his head. “I don’t need those maggots up in me business. And don’t pretend you don’t know that the feds have cameras watching all of those boxes.”
“Okay.” Wally refused to get sidetracked. “Was Ms. Reid aware of what was in the bag you left with her?”
He glanced at Bunny who was still fussing with her hair. She appeared to have no idea how much trouble she might be in or at least was pretending she didn’t have a clue.
Wally tapped her arm and said, “So, were you aware there was money in the bag?”
“I promised not to look.” Bunny waved her hand, still miraculously gripping the empty cigarette holder. She’d taken off the elbow-length gloves and her long, scarlet nails caught the fluorescent light, gleaming like tiny, bloodied daggers. “And I would never break a promise.”
Wally stared hard at the redhead. “Cut the crap.” Her expression was just too innocent to be real, and Wally was in no mood for Bunny’s usual coy behavior.
“Fine.” The older woman toyed with the rhinestone bangles on her wrist. “
I took a peek right after Aiden left for Ireland.”
“Is that when you decided to keep me money for yourself?” O’Twomey demanded.
“No!” Bunny said with a fake catch in her voice. “I’m not a thief.” Then the explanation fell from her lips in a rush of words. “I planned to hand it over to you as soon as you got back to Illinois. It really did burn up in the explosion. I can’t believe, after all we meant to each other, you’d think so poorly of me.”
Wally wasn’t buying the poor dumb Bunny routine, and from O’Twomey’s expression, neither was her ex.
“The only area damaged was the video gaming lounge,” Wally reminded her, watching her reaction carefully.
“That’s where I hid the cash.” Bunny gave Wally a calculating look. “I couldn’t afford to have Car find it in my apartment, so I took it out of the bag, gutted the inside of a couple of the vintage slot machines that I’d bought to decorate the lounge, and hid the money inside them.”
“I can’t believe five hundred thousand would fit,” Wally murmured.
“It was a tight squeeze, but I was motivated.” Bunny grinned proudly, as if she’d won the Olympic medal for concealing ill-gotten gains.
“If me money was in a metal slot machine, how did it burn up?” O’Twomey’s expression grew darker.
“The explosion knocked them over and the backs came off.” Bunny tilted her head seductively. “You know I wouldn’t steal from you, sweetheart.”
“Then why wasn’t there a single damaged bill found by the firefighters, the bomb expert, or the crime scene techs?” Wally asked.
His mouth tightened at the thought that someone might have stolen the cash. Or that Bunny had successfully bribed an official.
“Yeah. Why?” O’Twomey’s voice was dangerously calm.
“Well…” Bunny hedged, glancing nervously at Wally.
“You’re aware that with your prior record, a judge won’t be lenient if I decide to charge you with something,” Wally warned.
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