Lisa Gardner - Love You More

“Did you think I’d never connect the dots?” I said. “Why did you demand this whole farce that I claim to have killed my own husband? Because you and your partners wanted me out of the way. You wanted to destroy my credibility, then frame me for the theft. Your mobster friends aren’t interested in shaking me down for money. You’re using me to cover your tracks, letting me take the fall for all the money you stole from the troopers’ union. You were gonna blame me for everything. Everything!

He didn’t say a word.

“You goddamn bastard!” I exploded. “If I went to prison, what would happen to Sophie? You signed her death warrant, you prick. You basically killed my daughter!”

Shane blanched. “I didn’t… I wouldn’t. It never would’ve gone that far!”

“ That far? You stole from the troopers’ union. You screwed your friends, your career, and your family. That wasn’t letting things go too far?”

“It was Brian’s idea,” Shane said automatically. “He needed the money. He’d lost a little too much… They’d kill him, he said. I was just trying to help. Honest, Tessa. You know how Brian can be. I was just trying to help.”

In response, I grabbed his duty belt with my left hand, unclipped the Taser, and held it up.

“One more lie, and you’re gonna dance. Do you understand me, Shane? Stop lying !”

He swallowed, tongue darting out nervously to lick the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t… Ah Christ,” he blurted out suddenly. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I don’t know how it came to this. At first, I’d go with Brian to Foxwoods to keep him under control. Which meant, of course, that sometimes I’d play, too. Then, coupla of times, I won. I mean, I won . Five grand, just like that. Bought Tina a new ring. She cried. And it felt… great. Wonderful. Like I was Superman. So, of course, I had to play again, except we didn’t always win. So then you play more because now you’re due. It’s your turn. One good hand, that’s all you need, one good hand.

“That’s what we told ourselves, these past few weeks. One solid afternoon at the tables and it would all turn around. We’d be okay. Couple of hours even. Just the right coupla hours and we would’ve been fine.”

“You embezzled money from the troopers’ union. You sold your soul to mobsters.”

Shane looked at me. “Gotta have money to make money,” he said simply, as if this were the most logical explanation in the world.

Maybe to a gambler, it was.

“Who did you borrow the money from? Who shot Brian? Who took my daughter?”

Shrug.

“Fuck you, Shane! They have my little girl. You will talk or I will blow off your head!”

“They’ll kill me anyway!” he fired back, eyes finally blazing to life. “You don’t mess with these guys. They already sent me pictures-Tina in the grocery store, Tina going to yoga, Tina picking up the boys. I’m sorry about Brian. I’m sorry about Sophie. But I gotta protect my own family. I might be a fuckup, but I’m not a total failure.”

“Shane,” I said crisply. “You’re not getting it yet. I’m going to kill you. Then I’m going to pin the word ‘snitch’ to your chest. I give Tina and the boys about forty-eight hours to live beyond that. Probably less.”

He blinked. “You wouldn’t…”

“Think of how far you’d go for your sons, and know that I would, too.”

Shane exhaled sharply. He stared at me, and I could tell in his gaze he’d finally figured out how this was all going to go down. Maybe, like me, he’d spent the last few days figuring out there really were multiple layers of Hell, and no matter how deep you’d thought you’d fallen, there was still someplace deeper and darker to go.

“If I give you a name,” he said abruptly, “you gotta kill him. Tonight. Swear to me, Tessa. You’ll get him, before he gets my family.”

“Done.”

“I love them,” Shane whispered. “I’m a fuckup, but I love my family. I just want them to be okay.”

My turn not to talk.

“I’m sorry about Brian, Tessa. Really, didn’t think they’d do that. Didn’t think they’d harm him. Or go after Sophie. I never shoulda gambled. Never shoulda picked up one fucking card.”

“The name, Shane. Who killed Brian? Who took my daughter?”

He studied my battered face, finally seemed to wince. Then he nodded, sat up a little straighter, squared his shoulders. Once, Shane had been a good cop. Once, he’d been a good friend. Maybe he was trying to find that person again.

“John Stephen Purcell,” he told me. “An enforcer. A guy who works for guys. Find Purcell, and he’ll have Sophie. Or at least know where she is.”

“His address?”

Slight hesitation. “Take off the cuffs and I’ll get it.”

His pause was enough warning for me. I shook my head. “You never should’ve harmed my daughter,” I said softly, bringing up the Glock.

“Tessa, come on. I told you what you needed to know.” He rattled his cuffed wrists. “Jesus Christ, this is crazy. Let me go. I’ll help you get your daughter back. We’ll find Purcell together. Come on…”

I smiled, but it was sad. Shane made it all sound so easy. Of course, he could’ve made that offer on Saturday. Instead, he’d informed me to sit down, shut up, and oh yeah, he’d be by in the morning for my beating.

Good Brian. Bad Brian.

Good Shane. Bad Shane.

Good Tessa. Bad Tessa.

Maybe for all of us, that line between good and bad is thinner than it ought to be. And maybe for all of us, once that line’s been crossed, there’s no going back. You were who you were, and now you are who you are.

“Shane,” I murmured. “Think of your sons.”

He appeared confused, then I saw him connect the dots. Such as cops who died in the line of duty received death benefits for their families, while cops who went to jail for embezzling funds and engaging in criminal activities didn’t.

As Shane had said, he was a fuckup, but not a total failure.

Good Shane thought of his three sons. And I could tell when he reached the logical conclusion, because his shoulders came down. His face relaxed.

Shane Lyons looked at me one last time.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” I said.

Then, I pulled the trigger.

Afterward, I drove the cruiser out of the driveway and onto the street, eventually pulling in behind a darkened warehouse, the kind of place a cop might go if he spotted suspicious activity. I climbed into the back, ignoring the stench of blood, the way Shane’s body still felt warm and pliable.

I dug through his pockets, then his duty belt. I discovered a scrap of paper with digits that resembled GPS coordinates tucked beside his cellphone. I used the computer in the front seat to look up the coordinates, then wrote down the corresponding address and directions.

I returned to the backseat, uncuffing Shane’s hands, then placing his duty belt back around him. I’d done him a favor, shooting him with Brian’s Glock. I could’ve used his own Sig Sauer, raising the possibility that his death was suicide. In which case, Tina and the boys would’ve received nothing.

I’m not that hard yet , I thought. Not that stone cold.

My cheeks felt funny. My face curiously numb.

I kept myself focused on the business at hand. The night was young yet, and I had plenty of work to do.

I moved around the cruiser and popped the trunk. State troopers believed in being prepared and Shane did not disappoint. A case of water, half a dozen protein bars, and even some MREs lined one side. I dumped the food in my duffel bag, half a protein bar already stuffed into my mouth, then used Shane’s keys to open the long metal gun locker.