Sandra Brown - Ricochet

“He liked you for your mind?” he said sarcastically.

She laughed softly. “Actually, yes. The club operates almost entirely on a cash basis. The manager was pocketing several hundred dollars a night, and it went unnoticed. I gave him the choice of turning the bookkeeping over to me, or my exposing his embezzlement to Savich, who’s a silent partner. The club manager was stupid, but smart enough to know that he wouldn’t live long if Savich learned of his stealing. The first option had much more appeal. So he went to Savich with a request for an assistant and told him I seemed to have a head for money management. Once in the position, I devised ways to cut expenses and increase profits.”

Duncan stopped for a traffic light and noticed her staring wistfully at a group of children on a playground. She waited until the light changed before continuing. “Eventually I earned Savich’s respect and trust. As much as Savich trusts anyone. I certainly didn’t trust him, and I despised him for what he’d done to Chet. I could barely stand to be near him, but at least he doesn’t disguise himself. With Savich you know what you’re getting.

“By contrast, Cato sits in that courtroom every day and judges other people. He wears the robe. He bangs the gavel. He looks stern, and wise, and righteous, an advocate for the laws of the land, the commandments of God. His hypocrisy is sickening. To me, he’s by far the guiltier of the two.”

Duncan had found the Wal-Mart and had pulled into a parking space, but neither of them made a move to leave the car.

“Getting Savich will be easy for you now,” she said.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“But this time you have an eyewitness,” she argued. “I saw him commit cold-blooded murder.”

“ Napoli,” he said. “Tell me again what happened on the bridge.”

“I forgot where we left off.”

“Pick up where you managed to get Napoli ’s pistol away from him.”

“I yanked it out of his hand and threw it over the wall into the river.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I was just wondering…”

“What?”

“Why you didn’t just shoot him with it?”

SHE TOOK OFFENSE, HER EYES TURNING BRIGHT WITH ANGER. “I shot Trotter because he gave me no choice. He fired first. But I had Napoli ’s pistol. Do you think I would shoot an unarmed man? Even now, you believe me capable of that?”

He looked away from her. “Back to the bridge, you took off running.”

“Answer my question, Duncan.”

He responded just as testily. “I’ll answer your question when I have answers to all of mine.”

She stared at him for a long moment, but finally tamped down her anger and continued. “I ran for my life. Even wearing only one shoe, I managed to outrun him. When I glanced over my shoulder, he turned around and was running back toward the car. I suppose he gave up trying to catch me on foot and planned to chase me in the car. Just then I became aware of an approaching vehicle.”

“From which direction?”

“From town. I was running in the opposite direction, toward Huchinson Island. I thought, thank God, help has arrived. I was about to turn back and flag down the driver. But when the car pulled even with mine, it screeched to a halt and Savich got out. I was stunned. He was the last person I expected to see there. I ducked into the shadow of the tower.”

“Why? You and Savich are friends. Okay, acquaintances,” he corrected when he saw she was about to object. “Why didn’t you shout his name, run toward him with arms waving?”

She thought about it, then answered slowly, “I don’t know. The…the purpose with which he was walking toward Napoli. His expression. His being there in the first place. I knew it couldn’t be happenstance.”

“How long did it take you to reason through all this?”

“Seconds. But I didn’t reason it out. Instinct kept me from revealing myself.”

He thought about that, then said, “Okay. He didn’t see you?”

“No. I’m certain of that or I would be in the morgue. He stepped over the wall dividing the lanes and walked over to my car, where Napoli was sitting half in, half out the driver’s seat. They exchanged a few words.”

“What few words?”

“I couldn’t hear what they said. But I heard the gunshot. Savich stood there looking at Napoli, I suppose to make certain that he was dead or soon would be. Then he leaned into the car.

“That’s when I moved. I climbed down the ladder there beside the tower and crouched down on that thing underneath the bridge.”

“Weren’t you afraid? I’ve been on that ladder. It’s scary as hell.”

“I didn’t stop to think about it. I was more afraid of Savich.”

“Okay, so you’re hiding under the bridge.”

“Less than a minute after the gunshot, he closed the car door. Seconds later I heard another car door close. His. I thought I heard him drive away, but my heart was pounding so loud in my ears I wasn’t sure.

“But I couldn’t stay there forever, so I took a chance and climbed back up. There was no sign of Savich or his car. I ran to my car, looked in at Napoli, and knew he was dead. I didn’t stop to think twice. I didn’t even think to retrieve my purse. I ran.” She stopped, took a breath, and looked at him. “You know the rest.”

“How long did all this take?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “Hard to say. It seemed to take forever, an eternity, but I suppose it was only a few minutes, maybe three or four, from the time Napoli forced me out of the car until I ran off the bridge.”

“And there were no other vehicles on the bridge?”

She shook her head.

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“We’ve been over that, Duncan. I had no proof. You hadn’t believed anything else I’d told you.”

“Then why did you come to me last night?”

“I hoped that you would be so glad to see me alive…” She let that thought trail off, then said, “But you didn’t believe me last night, either. Not until you saw another woman’s body that Cato claimed as mine.”

He couldn’t argue with that. He sat for a moment, thinking.

Savich had leaned into the car to place Napoli ’s feet inside. He had also retrieved Elise’s wristwatch, which Napoli had been told to take from her for later identification. He had closed the car door, returned to his car, driven away. The whole thing could have taken ninety seconds or less. The puzzle was taking shape, but there were still pieces missing.

“You’ve explained how you won Savich’s confidence. When and how did you place yourself in Cato’s path?”

“You don’t have to put it delicately, Duncan. I placed myself in his bed. When I failed to glean anything incriminating from Savich, I considered how best to get close to the judge. I’m sure you and Detective Bowen heard some juicy gossip about our courtship.”

He didn’t bother denying it.

“Probably most of it is true,” she said. “I lured him. I had to marry Cato in order to get inside his house, inside his head. But, as I learned, he’s scrupulously careful. He never leaves behind a trace of his connection to Savich. No notes, bank deposit slips, receipts of electronic transfers, nothing.

“Twice recently he’s caught me meddling in his study. The night of the awards dinner. Then again the last night I was at home, shortly before you called and told him to bring me in for questioning the next day.

“All the time we’ve been married, I’ve pretended to be an insomniac so I would have a reason for going downstairs at night while he’s sleeping. I’ve searched every room and closet of that house, thoroughly, numerous times, always being careful to cover my tracks.”