Catherine Coulter - Backfire

How could she get Savich to agree to fifteen years now he knew she was terrified of Xu?

She managed a bit of lather out of the crappy soap bar as she considered what she’d say to Savich. Better to leave Clive out of it, let him deal on his own. She’d known yesterday Clive wanted to tell Savich and Barbieri everything he knew, down to Xu’s sock size. And she’d stopped him. Had that been a mistake? No, no, tomorrow morning it would be fine. She knew Savich would interview Clive separately soon enough after her to make sure she’d told him the truth.

She’d still try to bargain for fifteen years. No more, fifteen years. It wasn’t a lifetime of years. She could get through it, she would get through it. If only Mark Lindy hadn’t found out what was happening and freaked out-

Cindy put the bar of soap back on the shelf and turned to see a tiny Asian woman she’d noticed hovering in the background since yesterday, always deferential and polite to her, trying to get Cindy into a conversation. What was her name? She couldn’t remember. The woman was standing naked in front of her, something in her hand. In a blur Cindy saw it was a blade. She jumped back, but she wasn’t fast enough. The blade sank into her chest even as she slipped and fell on her back onto the wet tiles. She stared at the woman, whispered, “Why did you do that?”

The woman said, “For my son. I’m sorry.”

Xu, she thought. Xu had done this. Her last thought was of Clive. Was he dying, too?

San Francisco General

Monday night

Clive Cahill was dead, and Cindy Cahill was fighting for her life in surgery because of a stupid mistake, and it was all her fault, no one else’s.

Eve sat in the waiting room with Harry, playing the “if only” game-if only she’d stayed longer with the Cahills at the holding cells on the twentieth floor of the Federal Building, if only she’d thought to read the Cahills’ transfer papers from San Francisco jail carefully enough, Xu would never have found them.

No, Miss Brilliance had looked with only one eye and half a brain at the transfer papers, never seen the error that had to be there that returned the Cahills to the San Francisco jail instead of leaving them right here. She had only glanced at the paperwork, really, then trotted out with Harry, excited to think she’d finally see his house. She hadn’t even thought to double-check; no, she’d happily hopped into Harry’s Shelby and gone with him without another thought about the Cahills’ safety. Her fault. She’d fire herself if she were her own boss.

Cheney walked into the surgical waiting room with Sherlock and Savich behind him. Before Eve or Harry could open their mouths, Cheney said, “We don’t know yet who got to Clive. It was clean and fast, and before anyone knew anything, the guard heard a yell and there was Clive lying dead on the shower floor, a shiv lying beside him in bloody water.

“They found an Asian woman by the name of Lin Mei standing over Cindy, crying, still holding a bloody homemade blade. Lucky for Cindy she stuck her in the chest just once with it, then jerked the blade right out.”

Eve said, “Did she say why she did it?”

Savich said, “Lieutenant Clark in the San Francisco Sheriff’s Custody Division spoke to her while the EMTs were transporting Cindy Cahill to the hospital. He said her voice sounded like she was drugged or in shock, that she couldn’t seem to speak above a whisper. She told Clark a man who looked American told her in fluent Mandarin in the calmest voice she’d ever heard that he would slit her son’s throat if she didn’t stab Cindy Cahill to death. He handed her a photo of her son shooting baskets in a friend’s driveway. He even told her where she would find a blade to stab her with tonight-in a drain next to the women’s shower. She said she didn’t have a doubt he’d do exactly what he said if she didn’t kill Cindy.”

Sherlock said, “It seems so unlikely, but we know now that Xu looks American. No one who’s seen him thought he looked Asian, but he was always wearing glasses before. So it means he’s Chinese American, with Causasian features.”

Eve said, “So Xu visited this woman in prison?”

Savich shook his head. “Clark told me that Lin Mei had been out on bail until yesterday. Then she showed up after missing her court date, on purpose, it looks like, told by her court-appointed lawyer, who told her she’d see a judge in the next couple of days and be rebonded. Xu approached her while she was working at her job at the bakery at Whole Foods. He waited patiently until she was on break and stepped in front of her.”

Savich shook his head. “Do you know she was arrested for kiting a check for her brother to get him out of trouble with a Chinese gang because she didn’t have any money? Now she’ll be up for murder.”

Eve said, “Hopefully attempted murder with mitigating circumstances. Didn’t she think about what would happen to her and her son if she got caught?”

Cheney said, “Caught? She never tried to hide that she’d stabbed Cindy. She was paralyzed by what she’d done, that she’d just tried to kill another human being. Lieutenant Clark said after she described what she’d done and why, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted. When she woke up she didn’t say another word. He said he asked her over and over why she hadn’t come and spoken to one of the guards, but she only looked at him with great sadness. He had her brought here to the emergency room.”

Eve looked up to see her boss, Marshal Carney Maynard, standing in the doorway. He looked tired, she thought, and unhappy, and she couldn’t blame him at all. Maynard said, “There aren’t any nurses around who know anything about Cindy Cahill. Is she still alive?”

“She’s still in surgery and hanging in,” Eve said. “That was all the OR nurse could tell us. She said when the surgery’s done, the surgeon will come out and speak to us. It’s nearly one a.m., sir, you didn’t have to come.” Of course he had to come, you idiot. He’s here because of you.

Maynard said, “I did have to come, Eve. Cindy Cahill is here because my people screwed up.”

Nice way of putting it. “No, sir, your people didn’t screw up. I screwed up, and I’m singular,” Eve said, and looked him straight in the eye. “Let’s do this in front of everyone, I deserve it.”

Marshal Carney Maynard eyed her back and frowned. “How do you figure you suddenly rule the world, Deputy Barbieri?”

“Sir, the truth is I only glanced at the transfer papers. I should have studied them as carefully as I would if they had been papers bringing Qaddafi’s body to the U.S., but I didn’t.”

Maynard waved a hand to cut her off. He was more frazzled than tired, and here was Barbieri desperately trying to shoulder all the blame. It’d be easier if he could heap it all on her head, but he couldn’t. He said, “Since the proverbial buck stops with me, Deputy Barbieri, I’m the one responsible. I knew the importance of this transfer, but I was watching the Monday-night football game. This was the classic definition of a snafu. I’d hoped never to have one with such disastrous results under my watch, but it’s happened, and now we all have to deal with it.

“So dial it down, Eve.” He laughed. “We’ve given our FBI contingent a fine show. Here’s what happened. Turns out we had a new deputy driving the prisoner van. His partner didn’t look closely at the paperwork, and so they did the run they normally do. They drove Clive and Cindy Cahill straight back from one of our holding cells to the San Francisco jail. That simple. No, Deputy. You did your job. I didn’t do mine.”