by Rhavensfyre
“Drop it,” she commanded, but Bridget just laughed at her.
“Why don’t you just drop yours?”
“You know I won’t do that.” Ransom’s gaze never left the other woman’s face.
“Jesus, Ransom. I’m so sorry.” Victoria trembled against her. Ransom had a sneaking suspicion she was getting a good look at the real Bridget, the one hiding behind a very carefully constructed mask. “What are you doing, Bridget? This isn’t you.”
“You’re right, it isn’t. My name isn’t Bridget.” She shrugged and gestured with the pistol. “Well, technically, it is…but things change, don’t they?”
The woman was starting to ramble. Ransom took Victoria’s hand, hoping to take advantage of her confusion. “Go, get to a safe place. This is my fight now.”
“No!” The pistol went off, leaving a wound in the couch, exposing white stuffing that could have been somebody’s innards. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
Ransom exhaled. The 9mm was a fixed point in space—the site was just a formality. She knew if she squeezed the trigger, a red rose would blossom like a third eye in the center of Bridget’s forehead. Her finger itched to do it, to just finish this tiresome tirade, but she held fast, determined to do things by the book. She would try it Roy’s way…at least until she could honestly say it didn’t work.
“Bridget!” Victoria screamed in terror. “Stop this.”
“It’s Erica,” she snapped. “Stop calling me Bridget, I hate being Bridget.”
She said she hated being Bridget, not being called Bridget.
“Okay, Erica.” Ransom made sure to use the name she wanted to be called by. “What do you think this is all going to accomplish? You have to realize this isn’t going to end well.”
“And whose fault is that? Yours,” Erica screeched. “You could have just shown up with the damn Pepsi and burgers. We could have had a nice lunch, and we would have been on our way. You could have kissed your girlfriend goodbye one last time, and kept on living your boring little life out here, but no! You had to play super cop and figure everything out just in time to save the girl. But you aren’t going to save the girl, are you?”
“Four.”
“What?”
“I didn’t play anything. It wasn’t all that hard to figure out the clues you left behind.” Ransom made sure to toss an extra dose of sarcasm in, let it drip all over her next sentence. “Let me guess? You tore up Samuel’s office yourself, then took a couple whacks across the face with a door frame to make it look real? That’s how you finally found us.”
“Very good, Deputy. Only I went the extra step. The asshole who thought he could do this to me for fun is laying on a slab in the morgue. No loss to society, so don’t worry too much. Just another pimp who thought I’d be easy meat.” Erica smirked, remembering how much the man cried once he realized his mistake. “He was wrong.”
Victoria felt Ransom stiffen next to her.
“Three,” the number was uttered just above a whisper. Victoria looked up at Ransom, a question in her eyes. A quick shake of her head, so subtle it could have been explained away as a tic, told her not to say anything.
“That’s impressive. I guess we could stand here all day and compare kills, but I think I’ve already disturbed your timeline. Why don’t we just cut to the chase? What’s your endgame here?”
“You don’t want to know why I’ve done this?” Erica looked genuinely surprised. “You aren’t the least bit curious?”
“No.” Ransom managed to sound bored. “Frankly, it doesn’t matter to me why someone decides to terrorize and kill people. All that matters to me is that you consciously chose to do it.”
“Just like that, huh?” Erica sneered, then turned her attention back to Victoria. “And what about you? Where do you fall in this? Is it nature or nurture? Or a little of both, hmm? What about the shitty childhood excuse? You should know all about that, Victoria, since you did such a good job at making sure my childhood was a fucked up mess.”
“You’re Erica B,” Victoria whispered. “But your last name wasn’t Ford, it was Timmons.” Erica looked so different now, nothing like the gangly teenager she had met so many years ago.
“My adopted name,” Erica corrected her. “There’s a cute trick, if you know how to do it. Getting adopted as a child gives you a new birth certificate, did you know that? But if you keep all your original documentation? It’s like the adoption never happened. Like it should have never happened.”
“That’s not my fault, Erica. I didn’t have anything to do with your adoption, only your stepfather’s arrest a few years later.”
“Yes,” Erica bellowed, “and do you know what happened after that? My mother blamed me for everything. We lost our house, she lost her way…and I was put in the system. One shitty foster parent after another. It was hell. All because you people didn’t get it right the first time and then you screwed me over the second time.”
“So why come after me now, after all these years. I don’t understand?”
“Of course you don’t,” Erica sighed, the gun wavered in her hand before she brought it back up again. “Everyone else involved is gone. I’ve taken care of them. But it’s not over yet. It won’t be over until everyone involved is dead and gone and I can rest.”
“I don’t even hate you, not really. You tried, even though you finally gave up and left, you were one that did try for a while.” Tears started falling down Erica’s face. “I saved you for last because you weren’t the worst, and now all my plans are ruined.”
“Two.”
Ransom’s arm was getting tired. The 9mm was a fine weapon, but it was heavy, and Erica was working on madness and fueled by her emotions. Fatigue would get to her soon enough, and then she would be forced to choose. From what she’d been saying, Ransom didn’t think she’d just give up and drop her weapon. The girl needed help, not a bullet, but she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t lost that chance a long time ago when she decided to become judge, jury and executioner.
“You killed all those people.”
“They deserved it.” Erica pushed her jaw out, stubbornly refusing to take any responsibility for her actions.
“Including your mother?”
“She was a coward. She killed herself. Slowly…with drugs and booze. I don’t mourn her passing.”
“I don’t believe that,” Victoria said, finally finding her voice. “I don’t think you believe that either. Guilt killed your mother, not DSS and certainly not you. She chose to marry that man, knowing what kind of monster she was bringing into your home. She hid his history from us so we’d approve your adoption, then kept hiding his crimes until the police caught him. He was the evil in your house, Bridg…er, Erica, not us.”
She took a deep breath and pressed on, despite being more terrified than she’d ever been in her entire life. “What you’re doing now. It’s no different. It’s suicide. You’re using us to kill yourself.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are and I will tell you why. Ransom will not let you hurt me. She will not let you leave here and she will certainly not let you walk away, not after what you’ve done.”
“I could just shoot her,” Erica said.
“Are you that good of a shot?” Ransom asked. “I am.”
Ransom’s cool response made Victoria shiver.
“One.”
“Why do you keep counting down?” Erica screamed.
“Because you have one minute to decide what happens between us and then I’m done,” Ransom said, very calmly. “The cavalry is on the way and once they show up, I can’t help you anymore.”
The faint sound of sirens made it to her ears. She was sure that in Erica’s state of mind they sounded like all the hounds of hell baying after her. Ten heartbeats later and they grew even louder. There was no mistaking it, they were coming in closer by the second.
“Choose,” Ransom said, loosening her grip on the 9mm one finger at a time before her hand went completel
y numb. Her shoulder was screaming. It was either end this now or lose control of her gun hand.
“I’m not going to prison, and I’m not going to end up in some mental facility so people can talk at me all day.” Erica started shaking her head back and forth. Her knuckles whitened, and the gun started to waver, then slip towards Victoria’s chest. “No way. That’s worse than hell.”
Ransom licked her lips. There was no way out of this. “Then I don’t have a choice.”
Ransom shoved her, hard, a loud bang following close behind. The pistols report deafened Victoria, then left a residual ringing in her ears that made it hard for her to hear. Through the claxon sound, someone screamed, then started hurling curses at the universe. Victoria shook her head to clear it, then regretted her decision immediately. The world was still tilted off its access and for some reason she couldn’t find her footing in it yet. She looked around her and found Ransom kneeling on the floor, her gun back in its holster and Erica? She was lying on the ground, writhing around in pain.
“You asshole, you shot me.”
“I did. I told you I would.” Ransom didn’t understand why the woman was fussing so much.
“You should have killed me. You told me you were a good shot. You fucking missed. I’m still alive,” Erica hissed.
For all her concern about whether she was going to live or die over her wound, she kept her hand clamped over the bullet hole in her right shoulder.
Dark-red blood oozed out from between her fingers, but nothing spurted and none of it was bright red. She pulled out her cuffs. Roy would be there soon, but you could never be too careful.
“I am a good shot. If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead. If I’d wanted you maimed, you’d be maimed, but you aren’t. You might have a little problem with that arm for a while, but you aren’t going to bleed out.” Ransom grinned up at Victoria even though she was addressing the woman bleeding on Samuel’s living room rug. “I’m sorry to say it, but you’re going to have to put up with getting talked at every day for a good long while.”
“Are you okay?” This time she was asking Victoria.
“I’m fine,” Victoria said, surprised to find that she meant it. She took in the entire scene. The woman she thought she knew, cuffed and bleeding on the floor. Their friendship had been nothing but a ruse. Erica’s request for mentorship was nothing more than a carefully cultivated plan so she could get close to her. The sense of betrayal should have been overwhelming, but right now she just felt numb.
Her gaze flicked to Ransom, searching for any signs of stress. She had blood on her plain white shirt. That was to be expected after messing with Erica, but she kept staring at it, her brain trying to process what her eyes were telling her. The blood was slowly blossoming into a bright-red flower along the edge of Ransom’s shirt, just below her right arm.
“Um, Ransom?” Victoria felt her heart skip a beat before it began to race out of control. “I think you’ve been shot.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I’m fine, Samuel. Really.” Ransom sighed and let her head fall against the back of the couch. Staring at the ceiling was better than watching the two of them stare at her. “I am not going to go to the hospital, not for a scratch.”
“The woman shot you, you should at least get it checked out,” Samuel grumbled.
Ransom rolled her head forward. She was tired and her side hurt like a bitch, and those two wanted to give her the second degree over a flesh wound. “It’s just a graze. It’s not even bleeding anymore.”
Victoria winced at the harsh tone Ransom used with her friend. “He’s only worried about you, Ransom.”
Ransom sighed and rolled her shoulders. They still ached after holding one position for so long, and she hoped nobody expected much more from her than finding her bed and falling into it, preferably staying there until next week. “I know he is, and that’s why I’m not chewing him out for it.”
She turned her attention back towards Samuel. “By the way, how the hell did you get here so quick? My math is telling me you should still be an hour out, at least…and that’s if you left the minute I hung up. I thought your car was jacked up.”
“It was. Bridget did a good job on my BMW.” Samuel leaned forward and rubbed his hands together. His forehead wrinkled, like it always did when he was nervous. A weak smile replaced his scowl. “Good thing she didn’t know about Betty.”
“Betty? You pulled out your little pocket rocket and put her on the road?” Ransom was so shocked she sat straight up, a move she immediately regretted. Pain lanced across her side and something hot and wet trickled down along the edge of the bandage the Paramedics had taped on. She grunted and fell back against the cushions, then had to put up with several minutes of fussing by both Samuel and Victoria until she could convince the two of them that she was fine.
“Who’s Betty?” Victoria asked.
“An old 1960 Porsche Speedster he’s been restoring for like 20 years. He never takes it out of the garage, ever.” Ransom smirked at Samuel. “You had to be doing, what, at least a hundred to get here this fast. How’d you avoid getting pulled over?”
“Luck?” Samuel asked, not even sure himself how he managed to do it. “I didn’t even get a chance to enjoy my first ride out on the open road with her. I was so focused on getting here, I just jumped in and took off.”
“Bullshit,” Ransom called Samuel on his lie. “Admit it, you were having a James Bond moment the entire drive in.”
He grinned and ducked his head. “Maybe. She’s a sweet ride. But just to be clear, I was more worried about the two of you.”
Victoria stood up. As much as she was enjoying the conversation, Ransom needed to get some rest, and she needed to have that heart to heart with Samuel.
And honestly, I could use a change in scenery. The cushion no one wanted to sit against still sprouted stuffing and no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, the dark stain working its way through the rug next to the coffee table was still blood. The urge to throw open every window in the room, just to get rid of the faint odor of gun powder and smoke, grew with every passing moment.
“Samuel, why don’t we let Ransom get some rest,” Victoria suggested.
Ransom yawned and stretched out on the couch. “I’m good right here. Whatever you guys need to talk about, just take it into the kitchen.”
Samuel snorted, then vacated his chair. If Victoria thought she was being subtle, she was doing a terrible job of it. “I could use some coffee.”
Ransom’s eyes were already closed. She just waved them away without bothering to even look. “Go.”
Victoria took Ransom’s suggestion and headed for the kitchen. She also took her own suggestion and opened a couple of windows, then took a couple of deep breaths to clear her lungs.
“I can’t believe she’s taking a nap in there after what happened,” Victoria said, unable to shake herself free from the events of the last few hours. “It’s mildly disturbing.”
“It’s Ransom,” Samuel simply said.
“That’s true.” Victoria turned on the coffee pot and sat down. Everything she had been holding in around Ransom just started spilling out until she was shaking and tears began to fall. “My God, Samuel. I can’t believe it. Bridget or I guess Erica. I feel like a horrible failure. How could I work with this woman, day after day? Mentor her, be her friend, and all the while she was doing this? She so much as admitted to killing God knows how many other people. How did I not see her for what she was? My clients, you…how many people were at risk while this viper sat in our office and pretended to be something she wasn’t?”
“She fooled me too, Victoria,” Samuel said. “I was duped just as much as you were.”
“And Ransom.” Victoria looked away, her gaze automatically turning towards the other woman like a compass finding true north. “I listened to Erica, Samuel. Just long enough to doubt Ransom. It gave Erica the chance to pull her weapon. I could have gotten her killed.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. But she did get hurt.” Victoria took a deep breath, then decided it would just be easier to jump right in and say it. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about things these last few weeks. This isn’t going to be easy for me, so please let me get it all out before you say anything.”
“Today really hit home for me. It’s not just about me, or my practice anymore. It’s about a woman I met a long time ago and never thought I’d see again. When I realized that Ransom had been shot today, the only thing I could think about was how unfair life was. I already lost her once, Samuel, and I almost lost her again today. I can’t go through that, not for a third time.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I know what I need to do,” Victoria admitted. “I’m just scared to death to do it. I’ve already started over once, doing it again? That’s terrifying. Erica did accomplish one thing on her list. She screwed up my practice royally. I’m sure that was part of the fun for her. Now that it’s done, I’m not sure if I want it back. Ransom needs me here, and from what I’ve seen and heard, the people here need me, too.”
Samuel cleared his throat and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “So, what you’re telling me is you want to stay.”
“Yes.”
“And what do you need from me?”
“Absorb the rest of my clients. I’ll help any way I can with the transition.”
“And?” Samuel held her gaze and waited for her to finish.
“Tell me what I need to do for Ransom. I know this place is yours. I won’t do anything that will jeopardize her home here. She still needs this job, and her sanctuary away from the world. It was generous of you to let me stay here while we dealt with the stalker situation but…”
Samuel held up his hand, forestalling any additional worry on Victoria’s part. “Don’t concern yourself. You’re welcome for as long as Ransom wants to be caretaker here. In fact, I think I might have a solution that might solve your other problem as well. A little bird told me about Mrs. Johannsen’s situation the other day. Frankly, I’m disappointed. I’m tired of the town council begging me for donations every year for their pet projects, only to discover that they are ignoring the town’s neediest citizens. I think it’s about time to put those funds to better use and start up a new program-one designed to help people just like Mrs. Johannsen. Do you know anyone that might be interested in something like that?”