If Brick died, she’d be at Don's mercy. The room was silent except for the grunts of the two men. She watched them struggle as she waited for the breath Don had knocked out of her to return.
Don’s nine-millimeter weapon was on the floor about ten feet in front of her. The men rolled toward the fireplace and away from the gun. Intent on their own battle, they paid no attention to her.
She fought to breathe as she crawled toward the pistol.
The metal felt cold in her hands. She looked up to see Don reach for a log, lying near the hearth. He hit Brick in the head. His eyes widened and then closed. Dead still, blood oozed from both his head wound and the bullet wound in his shoulder, a trail of red spilled onto the dusty oak floor.
With the log still in his hand, Don raised his arm to hit Brick again.
“Stop or I'll shoot!” She pointed the nine millimeter pistol at him. The heavy weapon trembled in her hands.
The boss spun toward her, his arm still holding the log in the air. A smile formed on his thin lips. He took a step toward her.
“Stop!” she yelled.
He froze and his eyes scanned her.
The weapon was her equalizer, but it was heavy. She fought to keep it level. Stockier than Brick and almost as tall as Brick's six foot three inches, she knew if Don got any closer, he’d grab her and wrestle the gun away from her. She wouldn't be able to stop him.
Their eyes met. A chill crawled slowly down her spine. She tried to keep the fear she was feeling from showing in her expression.
He shifted his position.
“Take a step and it’ll be your last one.” Her voice sounded surprisingly strong. But her hands continued to shake. She aimed the gun at his chest.
“You won't shoot me. You're a sweet kid. I know all about you. Killing’s not in your nature.” He smiled but the log he’d used to hit Brick was still high in his hand ready to strike her. “You don’t want to shoot me.”
“A few days ago you'd have been right, but you’ve taught me to hate. I think of Ted and all the other hateful things you’ve done. And I learn quickly. I could kill you and not miss a heartbeat. So stay where you are.”
His smile disappeared. “Brick needs you. He could bleed to death while we talk. Give me what I want and I’ll let you help him.”
Terrified he might be telling the truth, she quickly glanced at Brick. He still hadn’t moved. Hate for his boss filled her.”On second thought Don, twitch, blink, raise an eyebrow, so I can shoot you!”
“If he dies it will be your fault. You let him bleed to death.”
“Shut up!” Her voice cracked. “Just shut the hell up!”
Watching his predatory eyes, she kept the gun pointed at his heart. Still wearing Brick's jacket, with her left hand she felt into the jacket pocket. It was a relief to find his handcuffs were still there.
The ornately carved support beam that held up the library's loft caught her eye.
“Move to the support beam.” She tilted her head in the direction of the post. “And put your arms around it.”
Don didn't move, didn’t even twitch.
“Walk to the damned beam. Do it. Or I'll shoot you where you stand.”
His eyes widened and then he slowly took a step toward the beam. When he stood near it he stopped.
“Put you arms around the beam.”
“Make me.” His expression hardened.
“I’ll shoot you.”
“Kelly, there's no damn way I’m going to do that.” He grinned. “And you’re not going to shot me. Give me the gun or I’ll break your arm and take it.”
Her muscles cried out in pain from holding the gun in front of her. She fought to stop her hands from quivering. He spoke the truth. She’d never shot a gun before. Could her first shot be one that killed a man, even one as despicable Don? If she didn’t, she and Brick would die.
“The gun’s getting heavy Kelly. I can see you won’t be able to hold it much longer.”
Damn him. He was smiling again.
Brick moaned.
Thank God. He was alive. She forced her eyes to remain on Don though more than anything she wanted to take a quick look at Brick.
“He needs your help. Give me the gun and you can go to him.”
For half a second she glanced at Brick and Don lunged for her. She pulled the trigger. Don dropped to his knees, a look of astonishment on his face.
“You shot me! I'm bleeding!”
Nausea rose in her throat. Unable to kill him, she’d shot him in the thigh. With gun still pointed at him, she stood ready to shoot again if he tried to move toward her.
With his face flushed with anger, he struggled to stand, groaned and fell on his face.
She swallowed hard as her stomach retched.
Don sat up next to the beam, holding his wounded leg, blood seeping through his fingers.
She watched, hating him for all he had done. “Put your arms around the beam, or I'll shoot you again,” she said, her voice firm.
“The hell, I’ll bleed to death.”
Just then Brick moaned again.
“Do it,” she yelled.
Without another word, he wrapped his arms the pole. She slipped the handcuffs around his wrist, just as Brick had done to Amanda's boyfriend.
She caught a glimpse of Brick. Was he still breathing?
Chapter Twenty-nine
Kelly dropped the gun and ran to Brick.
“Are you all right? Wake up.”
His eyes gradually opened and he blinked. “Get the drive,” he said his voice sounding surprisingly normal.
“You're hurt!”
“Just get it.”
“I've got to stop the bleeding.” She took off his jacket he’d given her to wear then tore off the fleece sweat shirt she was wearing underneath, leaving on only her cotton t-shirt. She tied the fleece tightly around his shoulder.
“That’s the best I can do for a bandage.” A bright red circle appeared on the pale pink fabric.
He rolled to his uninjured side and pushed to a sitting position. “Let's finish the job and get the hell out of here.”
“I think the bleeding has stopped but wait and rest a minute just to be sure.”
“Kelly, help me. We’ve got to get this done.”
“Okay.” She helped him stand.
“Where is it?”
“In the kitchen.”
She opened the oven door of the old gas burning stove and prayed. “It's still here.”She wrapped her fingers tightly around the flash drive.
“Thank God.” He grimaced in pain, still cradling his left arm. “We'll burn it in the fire place.”
“I couldn't have done this without you.” She glanced up at him and hoped the tears she fought to hold back didn’t show in her eyes.
Back in the library, the embers of the fire had dwindled. He stoked the fire and put kindling and a log on the glowing embers. “We’ll give it a minute until log catches fire.”
They faced the granite fireplace watching the flames rise. Heat spilled out into the room. The cold fear that had pulsed through her started to diminish.
“It's hot enough, give me the drive,” He put out his hand.
“I'll take that.”
She spun around to see a man in the doorway. Johnny Vega, his gun was aimed at Brick.
Still handcuffed to the beam, Don sat up and smiled.
“Give it Kelly.”
She cringed. The gruffness of Johnny’s voice was all too familiar.
“If you don’t give it I’m going to kill you. But first I’ll beat the shit out of you. Hand it to me now.”
Why should she? She was dead anyway. Could she throw it into the fire from where she stood?
“Do you want to live or die, Kell? It’s up to you.” Johnny glared at her.
“Brick, what should I do?”
Pale, and appearing weaker than he had in the kitchen, Brick said, “Give it to him.”
She held the flash drive tout to Johnny. But wh
en he grabbed for it, she dropped it.
Before it fell to the floor, Brick dove at Johnny, hitting Vega with such force the pistol flew from his hand. They scrambled for it. Vega reached it first. But before he could fire the gun, Brick sent a solid jab to the guy’s jaw, Johnny’s head snapped backward and he dropped to the floor, motionless.
With the pistol in his left hand, Brick used his right hand to feel for Vega's carotid artery. “He's okay, just knocked out.”
He snatched the drive from the floor. “Let’s get this damn thing in the fire.”
A shot rang out.
She turned to see Johnny's body recoil, blood running from his open mouth. Then she looked into the eyes of a stranger holding a nine-millimeter pistol. Just then she heard another report of the gun and Don slumped foreword, blood gushing from a hole in his chest.
She tried to screamed, but the sound caught in her constricted throat.
The man who’d tried to run her off Donner Summit stood ready to fire again, his weapon pointing in her direction. Adrenaline raced through her. It was the only thing keeping her on her feet. She held her breath and waited for the next bullet to leave the gun's chamber and enter her body.
Instead of shooting her, the man spoke to Brick. “You FBI?”
“Yeah.” Brick’s eyes had the intensity of a Falcon observing prey.
“Put the damn thing back where it belongs.”
“What?”Brick frowned.
“I don't want it. What am I gonna to do with a missile guidance system? I'm no traitor. Hell, I love this country. Where else can a mug like me, make the kind of money I make? A little gambling or prostitution.” He shrugged. “I'm just giving people what they want, but I'd never sell out my country. Me, Vito Vega, I'm a self-made man. I'm livin’ the American dream.” He smiled. “Why would I hurt the place that made me a millionaire?”
“Aren't you related to Johnny?” she asked timidly.
“We're second cousins, twice removed. But Johnny's a bum. I warned him that he was gonna get dead if he did this thing. The bum didn’t listen.” Vito spit on the floor. “The jerk always broke the rules. He always had to learn the hard way.”
The gun was still pointed at her, ready to fire again. “Nobody breaks the family’s rules.”
Kelly flinched. She glanced at Brick. He hadn’t moved.
“If I hadn't killed that scum over there.” Vito pointed to Don. “Kelly, your life wouldn't have been worth burnt toast. He would’ve murdered you. That's the kind of bum he was.” He sniffed and wrinkled his forehead. “You’re a good kid. Keep your nose clean and make sure you don’t get mixed up with a bum again.”
She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “I promise.”
“Hey Mr. FBI, you clean up the mess.”
Brick glared but didn’t respond.
Vito holstered his gun and pulled a cigar from his coat pocket. “If they want me, the FBI’s got my address.” He paused. “You got a match?”
“I don't smoke,” Brick said his voice harsh.
Vito nodded and put the unlit stogie in his mouth anyway. Then, without a backward glance toward Johnny his cousin twice removed, He left the room.
Kelly ran to Brick and grabbed him.
He groaned.
“Sorry.” She released him and took a deep breath to control her heartbeat and keep from going into full out hysteria.
“Let’s get the job done before anyone else shows up,” Brick said his voice raw with pain.
“Oh God, what a thought.”
He took the drive from her. With a hatchet that lay next to the pile of wood, he smashed it and threw the pieces into the roaring fire. The flames flared higher, but gave no extra warmth.
Soon the pieces disappeared in the red coals and an odor of burning carcinogens mixed with the aroma of burning pine. Melting blobs, almost indiscernible from the other embers in the fire continued to burn.
She watched a line of blood run down Brick’s arm to his hand and then drip onto the worn floorboards. He bent his elbow and brought the hurt arm up and held it against his torso. His eyes didn't leave the fire and an undecipherable expression branded his face.
She cringed as he kneeled next to Don. He checked him for signs of life.
Brick’s shoulders slumped. “He’s gone.” He struggled to stand and returned to face the fire. He stood, motionless, silent and valiant.
Once again he’d been betrayed by a friend. She wanted to comfort him, but didn't know how. Her throat closed with emotion. Tears burned in her eyes, she brushed them away. He wouldn't want to see her cry.
Regret for the way she’d treated him shook her. He'd protected her, willing to give his life. All the terrible things she’d said to him came to haunt her, sending a shard of contrition. Even greater was her remorse for all that she’d done, regret for the rules she’d shattered.
“I don't like the darkening sky.”
She glanced up out the window. “The storm is getting worse,” she agreed.
He picked up the guns, putting his gun into his shoulder holster and the others he handed to her and she put them into the pockets of his jacket she was still wearing.
“What about them?” She turned her head away and didn't look at the men lying still on the library floor.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “No service. When we get back to Tahoe City, I'll call and have the FBI send a team to take care of things. With this snowstorm, no one will get here before the Bureau.”
He walked slowly out of the room, still cradling his left arm close to his body.
She followed him.
On the porch he closed the front doors. Then he turned toward the forest. She saw his broad chest expand as he inhaled the frigid air.
As if to cleanse the area, snow fell hard in the awe inspiring Sierra Nevada Mountain range. Standing by his side, she viewed the silent storm.
“I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. Brick, I’m so sorry for the things I said.” She swallowed hard to keep from crying. “I have so much regret.”
“It’s all right Kelly.” He put his uninjured arm around her. “We all have regrets. That’s not important anymore. The plan for the missile guidance system has been destroyed.” He pulled her closer. “Against the odds we did it. We’re good together.”
She let her head lean on his broad chest and she listened to his rapidly beating heart.
“I love you Kelly. From now on, whatever happens—” He paused.
She held her breath waiting for him to continue.
“Whatever happens I want you with me. Marry me and we'll have the rest of our lives to make things right.”
“Oh Brick, I want that more than anything else in the world.” She blinked back tears of joy.
He bent down and laid a gentle kiss upon her waiting lips. “Forever,” he promised.
“Forever,” she agreed.
Together they turned their backs on the mansion and its horror and walked toward their future.
An excerpt from Money Power and Poison
Copyright © by Reggi Allder
Available from Amazon http://amzn.com/B00FTIWMOK
Chapter One
In the midnight gloom of a residential street in Carmel, California, business owner Kathryn Carlyle watched the city’s dim lights from the back seat of a speeding police car. She gasped for air as dread tightened her throat. This can’t be happening to me.
The catering van she drove to billionaire software developer Conner Harrison’s birthday party had been impounded by the police as evidence. She rubbed her throbbing temples to release the pain accumulated there.
Two blocks from her beachfront condo, she snatched a breath of air. “Please stop. I have to get out.”
The middle-aged officer guided the patrol car to the curb. “We’re not finished with you. Go, but don’t leave town.”
He’d probably been waiting all night to use that cliché. Don’t leave town. She almost laughed, except nothing funny had happened
tonight.
She exited the car and inhaled the sea breeze as it rustled her hair. It was such a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere that contaminated the police station where she’d spent the last few hours. How long before the man came back to arrest her?
Relieved to be in her safe neighborhood, she took a deeper breath, kicked off her black leather pumps and sat on a driftwood log overlooking the serene bay.
She swallowed as nausea swirled in her stomach. The fact that she hadn't eaten since breakfast didn’t help. Always nervous before an event, she’d planned to eat after Mr. Harrison’s party. Now he hovered near death. The thought of eating brought bile to the back of her throat. Why did the authorities think she poisoned a man she’d only met once?
A nightmare had snared her and was holding her in its grip. When Mr. Harrison died the charge against her would be murder in the first degree.
As the realization crept through her, she tensed. Two deep breaths calmed her. It didn't stop the headache forming over her right eye.
True she’d had the opportunity to poison him, but no motive. She only met him because he’d asked her to cater his birthday party. With his death, there was nothing to gain and a lot to lose, her reputation, her business, her life.
In the morning the police would sort out the truth of her innocence. Still, adrenaline caused her heart to race. She rubbed her temples and tried not to think anymore.
A gust of wind circled her. She shivered and folded her arms in front of her. Damn. Her suit jacket was still in the patrol car.
She stood and brushed the sand from the back of her skirt and picked up her high heels and shoulder bag. Time to go home, sleep was doubtful, still at least she’d put up her sore feet.
Leaves crunched somewhere in the shadows of the nearby trees, she squinted into the darkness but didn’t see anyone. Even so, fear gripped her.
She forced her swollen feet back into her pumps and walked quickly up the dimly lit street. The click of her heels echoed in the quiet night air. The desire to flee from an unknown danger increased the speed of her footsteps.
With the exception of a black truck parked at the curb, the street was empty. The pickup’s engine revved. The cab light came on and cast an eerie glow on the driver’s face. He smiled at her.
Shattered Rules Page 20