Armed and Fabulous (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 1)

by Camilla Chafer

  Chapter Seventeen

  I had been counting on puzzling through the notebook as my entertainment in the absence of anything, oh, like fun. Instead, Maddox laid his own sanity on the line and played game after game of Twenty-One with me with a pack of cards he produced from his laptop bag.

  "What do you normally do with witnesses?" I asked as I added another game to my winning streak. "Is there a section in the PD handbook with a list of entertainment suggestions?"

  "Nope. I just have to hope that they stay more scared of living outside than in, and that usually keeps them put."

  "Even bored rigid?"

  "Sorry that you're bored."

  I produced the lamest line in the handbook. "It's not you, it's me."

  "I get it. It's okay. It's no fun being a witness."

  "Too right. Have you heard from Lily? Is she okay?"

  "She's fine."

  "What about my family?"

  Maddox shuffled, cut the deck, shuffled again and dealt. "Garrett is making sure your parents don't know anything."

  "Good." I was anxiously concerned about my parents being worried. My dad had been a cop for more than thirty years when he retired, and he and my mom were finally enjoying a more quiet life. Well, for my dad, anyway. Life remained busy for my mom. I wondered if my dad still kept a gun in the house. "Will the... whoever it is, go after my family?"

  "Unlikely."

  "How so?"

  "Too many of them. Where would they start? Stop worrying, okay? We'll catch him."

  "You have new leads?"

  Maddox studied his cards, placing them flat on the counter. "Yes," he said, but I think he was lying.

  "Excellent," I lied, tossing my cards down, winning another game.

  I poked around the house while Maddox checked in with his team. I found a paperback lodged and perhaps forgotten, at the back of a cupboard. It was a sappy romance, but given the circumstances, beggars couldn't be choosers. I took it to the living room and curled up, reading about heaving bosoms and rakes in frock coats, while Maddox watched reruns of a game on the television.

  "What happens if he isn't found?" I asked, folding the corner of the page and placing it on the couch next to me. Paranoia was creeping in the longer I waited. "How long do I stay in the safe house?"

  "We'll do a risk assessment. If nothing happens and it appears danger-free, we'll let you go back to your normal routine. Maybe we'll keep an eye on you, just in case, maybe not."

  "On the off chance that he shoots me in the head?" I gulped. It seemed pretty risky to let me go back to my life with a murderer out there, even if they thought it seemed safe. If the mystery man truly thought I was after the money, or knew how to access it, I could be picked off any time. He might just be waiting for me to surface. The alternative neither of us wanted to broach was the possibility of never seeing my family again. Never seeing Lily again… never meeting my new baby niece or nephew. Starting new, alone, in some distant town where nobody knew my real name. And if I were really unlucky, filing in crappy offices for the rest of my life.

  I wondered if Maddox would miss me, or even think about me.

  "It's not gonna happen," said Maddox, passing the cards to me. I shuffled and dealt as he said, "If Ramos was alive, we'd have picked him up, and you would have been home free by now. We just have to wait it out a little longer. This person is desperate, assuming there really is someone other than Ramos. He's close to the cash, but he can't get it. He's going to make a wrong move."

  "And you'll be there to catch him?"

  "You bet."

  "Will I see you again after this is all over?"

  "If it goes to trial, we'll both have to testify." That wasn't what I meant, and Maddox knew it, but if he weren’t going to say he hoped to see me again, I wouldn't be the one to press the point. I had some pride. Instead, I won the game and Maddox declared himself out.

  I picked up my book and read a while longer until Solomon turned up with some take-out cartons, a box of breakfast cereal, and a bag with orange juice and milk. They conferred for a while and didn't seem to mind that I eavesdropped, seeing as I learned that little had happened. The techies had located all the accounts in the notebook, crunched the numbers and estimated that the fraud now stood at a cool three point nine million.

  "That's not a lot to split between four people," I pointed out, calculating each share. "Not even a million each."

  "Sounds like plenty to me," said Maddox as Solomon shrugged, apparently not willing to commit to a price. "It's a lot for one person."

  I got plates and forks from the drainboard, feeling oddly domestic. "Are you staying?" I asked Solomon.

  "Not tonight. I'll swap shifts with Maddox tomorrow."

  "You're going to stay with me?" I said, taken aback. Somehow, being alone with Solomon hadn't fit into my freaking out schedule yet.

  Solomon smiled. Oh boy. I tried not to imagine being alone with him, in an isolated house, with nothing to entertain us, but each other. Instead, I tried to focus on feeling safe with Maddox and reminding myself that another night in the safe house meant another night closer to home.

  I knew Solomon would protect me, but given the way he kissed, I wasn't too sure of my personal safety with him. There was a good chance he could charm me into anything, and, come to think of it, it wouldn't take much charming.

  I figured a night with Solomon would be wildly entertaining; but come the morning, he would just be an indentation in the pillow and mattress. He intrigued me. I knew he could make the perfect shot and drive a motorcycle. I knew he was smart and I knew his name. I suspected it would be fleeting and brilliant, but exciting and untamed didn’t stick around. I wasn't sure that was what I wanted.

  Maddox, however, seemed like a man who would happily wake up with a woman, snuggle, make breakfast and do the whole nine yards. I knew plenty of cops like him. I understood his life. I understood that type of man. That’s what I wanted. I had thoroughly enjoyed waking up with him this morning, even though it had only gone two yards. I would have enjoyed it a lot more if Solomon hadn't arrived. My resolve weakened a little more. I wondered what Lily would say about my predicament. She would have loved it.

  "We need to rotate shifts," explained Maddox. "We don't get a lot of sleep doing this."

  I nodded, collecting plates from the drainer, passing them around, though I suddenly didn't feel hungry at all. Solomon didn't eat with us this time, but he stayed a while, then left, saying something about needing to sleep before getting an early start on the mounting evidence. I was still picking at dinner when he left, wondering how much punishing exercise I would need just to work off all the fast food.

  "You're quiet," remarked Maddox. "Should I be worried?"

  "No."

  "Will I have to handcuff you to the bed tonight?"

  I looked up. "Kinky."

  "To stop you from running, but now you mention it..."

  "I don't think there's a headboard."

  "Too bad."

  "Should I be worried about you?"

  "No, my intentions towards you are very, very good."

  "What a shame," I said, leaving the room to go splash some cold water on my face.

  Maddox cleared the kitchen while I was in the bathroom and when I came out, I found he had set up the DVD player on his laptop. "This doesn't seem like you," I said as the credits rolled. "Shouldn't you be watching hardboiled detective shows or Die Hard Twenty-Nine?"

  "I don't watch a lot of TV. Work doesn't leave much room for a life."

  Not what a potential girlfriend wants to hear. "So what do you do in your spare time?" I asked.

  "Go to the gym. Catch a movie once in a while."

  "You're such a man."

  "I like cooking, too."

  "The surprises never cease. What do you cook?"

  "Meat."

  "Ahh. Man cooking."

  "I'll cook for you some time, then you can eat your words."

  "I like them sautéed."

&n
bsp; “Do you now?”

  “You know I’m going to hold you to that?” I answered.

  "Do that," said Maddox, leaning in and I was suddenly aware how close I was sitting to him. I could feel his body heat radiating against me. The evening was certainly looking up now, and I thought he was about to kiss me. Then he leaned back, frowning. "Do you hear that?"

  It was a tinny beep from his laptop. He pressed a few keys and the film disappeared, leaving the four-screen display of the outside cameras. One quarter fizzled with static. "The feed on camera three is down. I've got to check it out."

  "Is that safe?" I asked. "Won't someone from your team come?"

  "Sure," he said. "It happens sometimes. These are only temporary units. I can fix it before anyone from the team gets here." All the same, he took a small gun out of his ankle holster and laid it on the coffee table. "I'm going out the kitchen door. Watch the feed and shout when it's back on." He pulled a screwdriver out of his bag, slipped it into his pocket and walked out. I stayed in the hallway until I saw him exit the back door, then returned to the living room to wait for him. As I watched the screen, the upper right camera blinked out, replaced by static.

  It struck me as very unlikely that both feeds would have loose wires at the same time. Instantly, I was on alert. Angling the laptop so I could see the screen from the doorway, I crept to the door and peeped out. As I did so, a loud crack sounded outside, then the thud of something heavy dropping. I fell to the floor, my breathing fast and shallow, crab-walking until I was next to the sofa.

  Instinctively, I knew what I heard was a gunshot. I wasn’t sure about the heavy thud.

  The back door opened and closed and I held my breath, waiting to hear Maddox's voice, but there was nothing.

  I looked around for some place to hide, but there were barely any hiding places, just the couches and the coffee table. Behind the couch would be the first place they looked in this room.

  Soft footsteps came through from the kitchen into the hallway and stopped. I heard them move into another room. Grabbing Maddox's cell phone from the coffee table, I huddled into the far corner, vanishing into the shadows. It took me a couple of attempts, but I managed to scroll through until I found Solomon's number, my heart pounding as it connected.

  "Solomon."

  "It's me." I whispered. "I need help."

  "Why are you whispering?"

  "Someone's in the house."

  "Where's Maddox?"

  "I don't know. He went outside."

  "Can you get to a gun?"

  "Yes." I shot forward, grabbing the gun Maddox placed on the coffee table and checked the small barrel. It was fully loaded.

  "I'm on the way."

  Solomon didn't disconnect, so neither did I. Instead, I placed the phone in my back pocket, scuttling backwards until my back hit the wall, and prayed that Solomon had no problem with breaking the speed limit. I knew I didn't have any way out. My only exits were the front and rear doors, which involved moving through the hallway, where someone now stood, the floorboards creaking with every step.

  I looked around. The windows were locked, the room sparse. All I could do now was wait and hope Maddox overcame whatever was stopping him. Unless, the bullet… No, I couldn’t think about it.

  The footsteps grew closer and the door creaked as it suddenly pushed wide open. A man stepped into the room. Shorter than Maddox and bulkier, he wore all black. Black camo pants, a hooded top and a knit cap pulled down low over his brow. Despite being in the shadow of the door, ominously, in his gloved hands, I could see he held a gun, the shape of it quite clear in his hand. I saw the whites of his eyes flicker as they swept the room and settled on me. With my hands behind my back, I stuffed Maddox's small gun up my sleeve and tried not to quake with fear.

  "Stand up," said the man, his face hidden in the shadows. "Stand up slowly and keep your hands where I can see them."

  I raised my hands above my head, as the gun jolted down my sleeve, and stood up slowly, my knees protesting after being cramped. There was something awfully familiar about his voice.

  "Palms flat," he said, stepping forward into the light.

  I uncurled my fingers and my mouth dropped open. "Vincent?"

  Green Hand's accountant took another step closer, his gun pointed at me. His eyes darted around, scanning the room, registering that we were alone. He stepped to one side, and, with the gun still aimed at me, checked behind the couch just in case anyone else was concealed, repeating the strategy with the other couch.

  "Where's Adam?" I asked, trying not to panic. My best bet was to stall for time. If Solomon got here before Vincent shot me, I would be okay. If he got here moments after I was shot, I stood a better chance of surviving; and that's what it all boiled down to now: Solomon's speed and my oral skills. I was so glad I hadn't said that out loud. Lily would say it was totally Freudian.

  "Shepherd? Shot him in the yard," said Vincent bluntly.

  My breath caught. "Dead?"

  Vincent ignored my question. "You're my last loose end," he said. "If it wasn't for your meddling, I'd have my money by now and I'd be outta here. Where is it?"

  The final puzzle piece clicked into place. Vincent was the fifth man. The unnamed suspect responsible for blackmailing, then killing the rest of the fraudsters. I saw it so clearly now. He was the man Maddox chased down the alley, the man who forced Tanya Henderson to Flames. He was also the one person who knew how to access all the cash, and as an accountant, he knew how to hide it. It was more than enough to buy his precious Spyder and and then some.

  "I'm not alone," I stalled.

  "Yes, you are. I've been watching the house. I knew Adam Shepherd, or whoever he really is, was mixed up in this somehow. I saw him earlier, when he was supposed to be out of town, and all I had to do was follow him. Imagine my surprise when I saw him talking to a couple of detectives, thinking no one spotted him. Actually, I wasn't surprised at all. I’m smart, see? I'd already figured out he was a cop and when I saw you at Flames, I figured out you were part of it too. Everyone thinks I'm just Vincent the dull accountant, but they're wrong. They're all wrong!"

  "I never thought that."

  "I asked you out a bunch of times and you turned me down."

  "I... was seeing someone else."

  "No, you weren't. You just didn't want to go out with me, even after I left you all the gifts to show you how much you meant to me."

  "What gifts?" I asked, confused.

  "The flowers, the screensaver I put on your computer. The chocolates. Is nothing good enough for you?"

  "You left the dead flowers on my car?"

  "They weren't dead!"

  "They didn't have heads!"

  Vincent sucked in a breath, and his mouth pinched in frustration. "Those punks! They must have ripped the heads off when I left. The good for nothing little assholes! I left you twelve red roses!"

  "I just got thorny stems!"

  "What about the screensaver? That was great!"

  "It was creepy! It said, 'I'm watching you.'"

  "You didn't like the animated hearts that came up after it?"

  "What hearts?" I screeched, my voice slightly hysterical.

  "When the note screen faded out, it erupted into hearts. I programmed it myself. I learned how to at night school."

  "I went to get coffee right after I got creeped out!"

  “So you didn’t get coffee just to bump into me?” Vincent’s face crumpled.

  “No.”

  "I left flowers in your place." He watched me closely. “I arranged them in one of your vases.”

  "You burgled my apartment!"

  "I didn't,” he sniffed. “I didn't take anything I just wanted to know what you knew. And I thought I'd leave your flowers for you. I was being nice!"

  "Well, gee, thanks, Vincent."

  "Did you at least get the chocolate?" he asked. "I stopped by later to see if you were okay. Maybe you needed a guy to lean on. It's been a rough week."

&nbs
p; I didn't like to point out that it had been a rough couple of weeks entirely because of Vincent, but I couldn't help saying, "The ones with a great big car tire print across the box?"

  "I only ran over them once and it was an accident, I swear. They were still okay to eat. I checked."

  "OhmiGod! Vincent!"

  Vincent was quiet for a while, his gun wavering slightly. "So, you'll still go out with me?" he asked hopefully. “The concert will be great.”

  "You just killed Maddox," I said in a small voice.

  "For fuck's sake!" Vincent steadied the gun. "I give up. Wooing you is hopeless. I've tried everything. You're impossible! Give me the key. I know you have it. I saw you take it from Tallulah. I'm going to be rich. I have millions. I can get anyone I want now. Have anything I want."

  "I don't have it with me," I said, stalling for more time. "But I can get it."

  "Tell me something. Does the money make me appealing now?" asked Vincent after sighing. Clearly, his plan was dissolving fast, but I didn't have the heart to laugh. Not with Maddox outside, alone. Dead.

  I had to be honest. No. Billions wouldn't have made Vincent any more appealing, never mind millions. But I couldn't say that with a gun pointed at my head. Not when I who knew how many murders he was responsible for.

  "Figures," said Vincent when I hesitated. "But no matter. All I have to do is shoot you and all the witnesses will be gone."

  "Where will you go?" I blurted. I could feel my forehead breaking into a sweat as my eyes crossed to the barrel pointed at me.

  "Hawaii for a nice vacation. I've always wanted to go. I won't be coming back to Montgomery, that's for sure. I've lived in this town all my life. I've worked at Green Hand ten years and what recognition do I get? Nothing. Even the bimbo temp won't go out with me. Maybe I'll go to LA or London or Paris, after that. Finally, see the world."

  "Sounds nice," I said.

  "Shame you won't be coming. What's with the hair, by the way? And where's the key?"

  "It's at my place," I lied. "What's wrong with my hair?"

  "Nothing. It's okay. I liked the blonde more is all. You had the whole fabulous thing goin’ on."

  "I felt like a change." And it's all your fault, I added mentally. I could feel tears pricking at my eyes again and had to fight to keep my chin from quivering.

  "The key?" prompted Vincent.

  "I said it was at my apartment. I can take you there."

  "No, it isn't. I searched and it wasn't there. It's here, isn't it? I told you I'm smart! I told you! You can't fool me! I'll get it when you're dead. I’m armed and dangerous, you bitch!" Vincent shrugged and pointed, his finger scraping the trigger guard.

  At the same moment, I dropped my arm, tipped the gun into my hand and fired, yelling, “And I’m armed and fabulous!”

  Vincent screamed as his shooting arm dropped. I saw a blur behind him, just a shadow against the wall. Like slow motion, I watched Vincent steady himself, position his finger, extend his arm slightly forward and then... there was nothing.

  When I came to, it was to look into beautiful blue eyes. I raised a hand to my head, brushing my fingertips across my forehead then down to my chest, feeling for a bullet hole and finding none. Next, I pinched myself hard. Yep. That hurt all right. And was probably a very good sign that I was still alive. Just to make sure, I pinched the man holding me.

  "Ow," he said and Maddox's face swam into view. "I've been bashed over the head and shot. What was the pinch for?"

  "Just checking."

  Maddox helped me sit up. I looked over, following the sounds of grunting and swearing. Vincent was flat on the floor, face down. His glasses had fallen off and lay, the frame twisted, a little to his left. His hands were cuffed behind his back along with his ankles. He drew his legs up so his heels bounced off his butt as he struggled against the bindings. Solomon knelt next to him and delivered a punch to Vincent's side, which stopped him struggling for a moment. Solomon looked up briefly and I think he smiled.

  "What happened?" I asked. I was dizzy and sick and really, really angry. And in pain. Oh boy, the pain that hit me suddenly was enough to knock me off my feet.

  "When I went out to check the camera, Vincent came up behind me and knocked me over the head. I went down and the bastard shot me."

  "That is so rude," I said, commiserating with him, overjoyed that he wasn’t singing with the angels. "What else happened?"

  "When I came around, Vincent was inside the house already, and I could hear him talking to you. I snuck up behind him. You fired. I went for him as he fired. Great shot, by the way. You got him in the hand."

  It turned out that when I crumpled to the floor, Maddox thought I'd been killed. As it was, Vincent had squeezed off a shot, the bullet slicing past my arm, causing a very bloody, but not life-threatening wound and I'd simply passed out from shock. A few stitches, some rest, and I would be right as rain.

  Maddox helped me to a sofa and filled me in on what happened in the minutes I was out. There had been a brief struggle, during which Vincent had turned on him and stuck his finger into the wound in his shoulder, causing Maddox to nearly pass out from the pain.

  Maddox managed to grab the gun from him, throwing it into the dark hallway just as Solomon came to the front.

  Ranting and raving about how I’d spoiled everything, Vincent didn't know whether to go for his glasses or the gun, so it had been easy for Solomon to subdue him. I don't know where Solomon was when I called, and he didn't volunteer the information, but it was close enough that he'd beaten the rest of the team who were on their way.

  "You're just a temp," spluttered Vincent, lifting his face off the floor enough to stare at me. His face was bright red and he puffed angrily, pulling against the restraints from where Solomon had him hogtied. "How could you have figured any of this out?"

  Maddox had one hand clapped to his shoulder. I could see blood seeping through the rag, blooming between his fingers. I could only imagine I must have mirrored his bloody image. We were lucky Vincent was such a crap shot. "She may be a temp, but she's also a highly trained government operative," said Maddox, his voice quietly menacing.

  Bless him. He was such a good liar. And he had my back too. He was really growing on me. Well, the kissing helped define my opinion, but the whole saving my life thing helped too. Obviously. Maddox looked at me with mutual admiration.

  "Really?" said Vincent, his voice belying surprise.

  "No," I said, with a painful shrug. "I'm just a temp."

  "Christ," said Vincent as he stopped struggling, his cheek resting on the floor. I think I heard a sob escape from him.

  "I didn't figure it out," I told Vincent, just to add to his misery. "Not all of it anyway. I didn’t know it was you. I only knew for certain when I saw you here. If you'd gotten the money and disappeared, I may never have put it together. You could have been in Hawaii, home free in weeks. Instead, you'll be sending me a postcard from the big house."

  That sounded so cool, the way I said it. Unfortunately, the first part was true. I had no doubt that the taskforce would have pieced everything together, and that Vincent's name would have come up in the investigation, but it would have been too late by then. He and the money would have vanished. We were lucky that in his desperation, he made the wrong move as Maddox anticipated.

  Solomon hauled Vincent to his feet. For a serial killer, he looked so pathetic with his shirt untucked, his hair mussed up, and a bloody rag wrapped around his hand from where I shot him. "Will you visit me?" Vincent asked.

  "Are you kidding?"

  He looked so perplexed, I nearly laughed. "No," he said, his forehead marred with frown lines. “I’ll write you!”

  Solomon hauled Vincent away before he could embarrass himself any further.

  I heard sirens approaching, paramedics I hoped for Maddox and me, and a ride to the can for Vincent. Once word got around that he'd attacked a Graves, his stay at the precinct wouldn't be pretty. I struggled to care, but couldn’t.
<
br />   "Let's go to the hospital and get patched up," said Maddox, his arm sliding around my waist.

  "It's a date."