Sandra Brown - Smoke Screen

He wiped his nose again. “It came as a shock to us that we were made out heroes,” he said with a laugh that was negated by the tears rolling down his face. “We thought that, as soon as the fire was out, we’d be arrested. So you can imagine how we felt when…Well, you know how it was. That photo,” he said, looking at the picture on the wall.

“We told ourselves there must be a reason for it turning out the way it had. A higher purpose, Jay called it. Some such bullshit,” he said scornfully. “Anyhow, we made a pact. No one would have to know. No one could tell. Ever.

“We thought we’d be okay. We thought we’d get away with it. Brunner seemed satisfied with our explanation about Jones.” He sighed and looked across at Raley. “But you were stubborn as hell and too fucking good. Jay tried stalling you, but on the issue of Cleveland Jones, you just wouldn’t give up and let it go. You had us scared shitless.”

Slowly Raley nodded. “So you devised a way to discredit me.”

Britt wanted to know what the latest news from Columbia was, but the judge insisted on hearing what she had to say first.

So for the past ten minutes, Candy Mellors had listened as Britt gave her a rushed, almost breathless account of the last few days, beginning with her meeting with Jay and ending with her and Raley fleeing the attorney general’s house. Knowing the constraints on the judge’s time today, she had economized on words, divulging as many details as she could as concisely as possible.

She finished by saying, “Raley and I got the hell out of there.”

Candy sat back and took a deep breath, as though she’d been the one doing all the talking. “Sweet Jesus. I understand now why you’d be hesitant to surrender to the police.”

Britt nodded.

“Where is Raley?”

“He hopes to bluff George McGowan into thinking that Fordyce ratted him out. He took the camcorder, thinking he may get McGowan on tape admitting his role in all this, and incriminating Fordyce at the same time.”

“Any such recording wouldn’t be admissible in court.”

“I realize that, and so does Raley. But having it is better than not.”

“You have the tape of your interview with Fordyce?”

Britt pulled the small cartridge from the pocket of her jeans and handed it over. “Fordyce doesn’t actually own up to his participation. But if Raley can get George McGowan’s admission, then the AG’s role will be exposed, and we’ll have him on video lying about it, which would at least strengthen any prosecutor’s case against him.”

“It’s a high body count,” the judge said, shaking her head. “I’m dumbfounded by the extent of their perfidy.”

“Even more astonishing is that they’ve got away with it for these five years.”

“The man who responded to Cobb Fordyce’s summons this morning, the fake security guard, you’re certain he was in Jay’s town house that night?”

“Positive. My memory came back the instant Fordyce opened his front door and I saw him there on the threshold. Some of my recollections are still hazy. Segments of time are missing, but I remember him with perfect clarity because he laughed while his partner was molesting me.”

“Molesting you? You didn’t mention that before.”

“It’s not easy to talk about.” Speaking woman to woman, Britt described the experience.

The judge frowned with distaste. “That must have been awful for you. You’re certain that if you saw this man again you could identify him?”

“Without question.”

“Would he look anything like that?”

Britt, puzzled by the question that was seemingly nonsensical, turned her head, following the direction of the judge’s nod.

He had entered the room unheard and was standing with his back to the closed door, leering at her, just as he had when he violated her.

“Britt,” the judge said, “I believe you’re intimately acquainted with Mr. Smith.”

GEORGE SEEMED TO HAVE LAPSED INTO A STUPOR. WITHOUT his noticing, Raley set the camcorder on the edge of the desk, left it recording, and gave George a verbal nudge. “You had to stop my investigation, so you set me up with Suzi Monroe.”

George took a heavy breath and released it slowly. “Jay’s idea. Two birds with one stone, stop you from finding out what we did to Cleveland Jones, and give ol’ Jay a free shot at your fiancée.” He winked a bloodshot eye. “His plan worked, too, didn’t it? That was our Jay. Everything always went his way.”

Raley recalled the morning he’d awakened to find the girl dead beside him, how Jay had been calmly drinking coffee and reading the Sunday newspaper. Remarkable, that he could be that blasé after having sacrificed a young woman’s life.

“Did Jay kill her?”

“She killed herself.”

“He just supplied the dope.”

“Pat and me, actually.” George’s reply was matter-of-fact. “Jay was to get the girl, we were to get the coke. That was our deal. Jay wooed her into slipping you the Mickey. Told her it would make you last all night, and it damn near did. Finally you passed out. Then we gave her the coke. Urged on by Jay, she…” He sobbed again. It took a moment for him to collect himself enough to go on.

“Next morning she was dead, and it worked out just like Jay had promised us it would. Your life went from sugar to shit. We were off the hook.” George had begun to slur his words, but he was fully aware of what he was saying. He focused his bleary eyes on Raley. “How long before you figured it out?”

“A while. At first I denied it was possible. I didn’t want to believe my best friend could do that to me. Not then, not now.”

“But once you caught on, you didn’t get over it.”

“No, I didn’t get over it.”

George sighed. “Well, I can’t say as I blame you. In your place, I probably would have done the same. Truth be known, I wish you had started with me.”

Maybe George wasn’t as lucid as Raley had thought. Perplexed, he said, “Started what with you, George?”

“Your vendetta.”

“My-”

“I’m relieved, you know. Ever since Pat Senior got popped in that alley, I’ve been waiting for my turn, wondering how you were going to take me out, and when. Gotta hand it to you, the way you dispensed with Jay. That was poetic, man. Using that newswoman and giving her the drug like we gave you. Very clever. Sent us all a message that caused some puckered sphincters, let me tell you.

“After Jay, the rest of us knew we were screwed, that it was only a matter of time. Even Miranda and Les have been nervous, and those two are never rattled. But I can sense it. They’re on edge, wondering if their relationship will be revealed once I’m exposed as a fraud. See, having a big, strapping hero for her husband is the perfect cover for them. And Pat Junior has been about to have a stroke. Of course, he’s as frightened of everybody learning he’s gay as he is of your revenge.”

“George, what the hell are you talking about?”

But by now the man had become lost in the boozy maze of his mind. Raley’s interruption didn’t draw him out of it. “One thing I can’t figure, though. Why’d you cap Cobb Fordyce this morning? He wasn’t even there when we did Jones. He was the real hero of the fire, the only hero. He had nothing to do with Suzi Monroe, either. He even gave you a pass on that. So why’d you do him? No, no, don’t bother answering. Screw it. I don’t really care.”

Suddenly, he raised the pistol and poked the barrel under his chin. Reacting instantly, Raley vaulted over the desk and caught George’s wrist just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide and bored a hole through the paneling.

The desk chair with both of them in it went over backward, crashing into a trophy case. Shattered glass rained down on them. Trophies attesting to George’s athletic ability tumbled from their display shelves. A heavy silver cup hit Raley hard on the head, but he barely felt it. He was intent on his struggle over possession of the pistol.