Sandra Brown - Ricochet

“See you in hell, Savich.”

“All right, all right,” Savich screamed. “I…I did Morris.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than several uniformed officers, led by Detective Worley, barged into the room. “Shame on you, Savich. I think that means you’re in a world of hurt.”

The uniformed officers eddied around the desk and surrounded the criminal. Duncan tucked his pistol into his waistband, saying, “He needs an ambulance.” Then he rushed across the room to Elise and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you all right?”

She leaned against him and nodded shakily. “I didn’t expect him to pull a gun on me.”

“Christ, I should never have agreed to let you do this. If I’d been a few seconds later-”

She placed her fingers on his lips, so he wouldn’t complete the thought. “But you weren’t. I knew you’d be here.”

He hugged her tighter, then let her go abruptly and rounded on Worley. “You took fucking long enough! DeeDee was about to shoot me, and I was afraid she would while I was stalling and running out of bullets.”

“Hey, there was traffic,” Worley said defensively. “I was standing by, waiting for her call, just like you told me to do.”

DeeDee was looking at all of them with astonishment. But especially at Duncan. “Just like you told him to do? When? What the hell’s he talking about? What’s going on?”

Worley shifted his toothpick and said, “She’s ticked, all right. Have fun explaining, Dunk. I gotta follow up on that search warrant you asked for. Should be ready soon.” He stepped out of the office to use his cell phone.

DeeDee hadn’t taken her eyes off Duncan. “When did you call him?”

“From my house when I picked up the six-shooter.”

“You never intended to pull this off, just the two of us?”

He shook his head. “No, but I wanted you to think so.”

“Why?”

“In order for Savich to be convinced that I’d gone over the edge, you had to be convinced I had.”

“So you used me.”

“I relied on your professional integrity and adherence to the rules.”

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“It is bullshit,” he admitted. “I used you.”

“How could you not trust me?”

“But I did, DeeDee. I trusted you to do the right thing, and you did. I knew you’d call for backup. I had Worley standing by, ready to roll.”

She nodded toward Elise. “What about her?”

Duncan bent down and retrieved Elise’s handbag. “He searched me, but thankfully he didn’t check my bag,” she said as he withdrew a small tape recorder and passed it to DeeDee, who stared at it with bewilderment.

“My grandmother’s. But we checked it out and it works.” He turned to Elise. “I arrived in time to hear him talking about his partnership with Laird. What about Napoli?”

“That’s why he was about to kill me. He said it was more efficient to kill an eyewitness than to make a deal with one. Just like Napoli, I was a loose end he needed to tie up. It’s all on the tape.”

“Wait,” DeeDee said, holding up her hand. She was gaping at Elise with awe. “You came here and told Savich that you witnessed Napoli’s murder?”

“That was the plan. Duncan was against it.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

She gave him a soft smile, then said to DeeDee, “It was the only way. You mistrusted me from the start. Rather than try and persuade you otherwise, I talked Duncan into staging what would look like a double-cross. We counted on you believing that I had betrayed him to Savich.”

DeeDee assimilated that. “The argument between you two over who was the bigger fish, Laird or Savich, was also staged for my benefit?”

“As well as my heavy-handed encounter with Laird,” Duncan said. “Not that I didn’t enjoy having him by the balls.”

“How’d you know I would show up at your grandmother’s house today?”

“My mom left me a text message on my cell. She was second-guessing telling you where I was. I knew you’d show up. Elise and I had discussed how we would play it out when you did.”

DeeDee still looked resentful over being left in the dark, but there was also grudging admiration in her expression as she sized up Elise. “By coming to see Savich alone, you laid your life on the line.”

“Which I was willing to do. I have a stake in this, too, remember. My brother.”

“Yeah, but that took guts,” DeeDee said. “And frankly, I thought…well…”

“I know what you thought. And I understand.”

“All the same, I owe you an apology.”

“Not really. I’d given you absolutely no reason to trust me.”

DeeDee acknowledged Elise’s graciousness with a brusque nod, then turned to Duncan. “As for you, partner, you’re an asshole.”

Before he could take issue with that, he noticed that another officer was reading Savich his rights. “Hold on. I want to do the honors.”

Savich was still seated in his desk chair. He’d been handcuffed, but someone had wrapped a handkerchief around his bleeding hand. He was in obvious pain, but Duncan, thinking of the victims he had either terrorized or murdered, wasn’t moved to pity. He felt nothing except supreme satisfaction as he Mirandized him.

Savich sneered. “You never would have fired that sixth bullet.”

“Now, Bobby,” Duncan said in a singsong voice, deliberately using the diminutive of his name, which he knew Savich loathed. “You didn’t sound so confident about that sixth bullet a few minutes ago when you were screaming like a girl.”

“That confession is worthless to you. It was made under duress. This cowboy act of yours was for nothing.”

“Wrong. But in any case, I would have done it just for fun.”

“You wanted to impress your new girlfriend.” He slid a glance at Elise, then gave Duncan a sly smile. “Does she let you come in her mouth?”

Duncan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know what, Savich? You’re still pissing me off. And, you may be right. That confession may not hold up in court. Besides that, it looks to me like you’re trying to escape.”

He whipped the pistol from his waistband, aimed it at the bridge of Savich’s nose, and pulled the trigger.

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, ROBERT SAVICH STILL APPEARED as shaken as he’d been the previous night when he was hauled out of his office in handcuffs. After a brief stop at the ER, he’d spent the night in the detention center, no doubt shivering on his cot, reliving that split second when he’d experienced the mortal terror he had inflicted on so many others.

“Orange isn’t his color,” DeeDee remarked.

She and Duncan were sitting in the gallery of the superior court room, watching with interest as Savich was escorted to his place at the defense table for his bond hearing. Earlier in the day, in another court, he’d been arraigned for the murder of Meyer Napoli. Not surprisingly, on behalf of his client, Stan Adams had entered a plea of not guilty.

During his previous trial, conducted in this same courtroom only weeks earlier, Savich had been dressed to the nines each day. Today he looked like a different man, wearing the orange jail jumpsuit and sneakers without laces. Despite the thick bandage on his right hand, he was shackled. His ankles were connected by chains to the bands around his wrists. His hair hung loose. The diamond was missing from his earlobe.

“Yeah, but ain’t he a pretty sight?” Duncan stared at the man’s profile, willing him to turn and look at him, knowing that Savich wouldn’t. Duncan had won. Savich couldn’t endure his victory.

“Stop fidgeting.” DeeDee clamped her hand over his knee to keep it from bobbing up and down. “Why are you nervous?”