Phillip Margolin - Ties That Bind

The blade sliced into his knee. Castillo shrieked. The next blow took him in the side. Blood spurted from his shoulder, his knee, and this new wound. He crashed to the floor face-first, unable to move his hand to break his fall. Amanda straddled him, screaming with each blow.

"Don't," Castillo croaked as the blade descended one last time. The axe sliced through the killer's throat and cut off his words. Amanda stepped on his shoulder and wrenched out the blade. She prepared to swing again, but footsteps brought her around. The slender man in the Mariners' baseball cap, whom Amanda had seen in the courthouse and thought she'd seen in her garage, leaped to the bottom of the stairs. He swung a gun toward Amanda's midsection and froze. She raised her axe.

"Red! Red!" he shouted. "It's okay, Amanda. You're safe."

The killing rage still had hold of her and she took a step forward. The man lowered his gun.

"They're all dead. You're safe," he said softly. "I'm Anthony."

Amanda gripped the handle. What if it was a trick?

"I've got to get an ambulance for your father. He's hurt. He has to go to a hospital."

Suddenly her arms were too heavy to hold the axe and it clanged to the floor.

"We've got to call for an ambulance," Anthony insisted as he turned and raced up the stairs with Amanda on his heels. While Anthony called 911, she dropped beside Frank and rested his head in her lap. When the police and the medics found her, Amanda was still sitting on the floor with Frank, but Anthony and the Indian were gone. Amanda tried to remember what the man in the cap looked like but she could not recall a single feature.

Chapter Forty-Eight.

Mike Greene's car skidded to a stop and he leaped out. Several lab techs were working in the back of a black van that was parked at the curb by Frank Jaffe's house. A photographer snapped a picture as Mike went by, and the flash illuminated the driver of the van. His head was tipped back. Before the light from the flash faded, Mike saw a jagged red line stretching across the driver's throat.

Lights had been set up on the front lawn where another corpse sprawled face-down. The man was dressed in black. A forensic specialist was peeling off his ski mask to reveal a blood-encrusted wound. In the entryway, two more dead men were being photographed.

"Mike."

Greene looked up and saw Sean McCarthy and Stan Gregaros walking out of the hall that led to the kitchen.

"Where is she, Sean?"

"Upstairs, away from this mess."

"Is she okay?"

"She's in shock. The first cop who got here found her sitting on the floor in the kitchen. Frank's head was in her lap and she was rocking back and forth."

"Is Frank . . .?"

"He was shot twice and bleeding badly, but the medics got to the house in time. He's at the hospital now. The doctors think he'll make it."

"Thank God."

"There's something else," McCarthy told Greene. "There's a dead man in the cellar. Amanda killed him with an axe."

"It's self-defense, all the way," Gregaros added. "The guy in the basement is Manuel Castillo, an enforcer for Pedro Aragon."

"What would Aragon want with Frank and Amanda?" Mike asked Gregaros.

"She was pretty shaken when we talked. I didn't press her," McCarthy answered. "We're hoping that Amanda can clear up everything when she's calmer."

"Shit. It's not fair after what she went through with Cardoni."

"She'll be okay, Mike," McCarthy said.

"I want to see her."

Greene started toward the stairs but McCarthy stopped him.

"Amanda needs a friend, right now. That's why I called you. This is not your case. You've got a conflict. Comfort her, but don't question her. Understood?"

Greene nodded then shook off McCarthy's hand and ran upstairs. Amanda was being photographed by a lab tech. She startled when Greene ran into the room. Greene stared at her blood-streaked face and pajamas.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded but the fear he saw told him she wasn't.

"I'm through, Mike," the photographer said, "but we'll need the clothes."

A policewoman had been sitting with Amanda. "Let's go to your room," she said. "We'll get these things off of you and get you warm."

Mike followed the women down the hall and waited outside Amanda's door while she cleaned up and changed. At the far end of the hallway, another lab tech was examining blood that had splashed on the wall across from the back stairs.

Amanda looked terrible. He couldn't imagine what she'd gone through. She was tough--he'd been there when she'd set herself up as a sacrificial lamb so they could trap the surgeon--but she was basically a decent and gentle person. Mike knew policemen who had killed criminals in self-defense. No matter how justified the killing, most of them were scarred psychologically from the experience.

The door to Amanda's room opened, and she came out dressed in slacks and a sweater. She was pale, and her hair was damp from a quick shower. Mike hesitated, not certain that Amanda would want to be touched.

"Can I . . ." he started, but Amanda cut him short by falling against his chest. He held her while she sobbed.

"Sean heard from the hospital," Mike said as he led her down the hall and into the study, where they'd have some privacy. "Your dad is going to be okay."

"I killed him, Mike. I lost control."

Mike forgot what Sean had said about discussing the case with Amanda. He stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look in his eyes.

"You had to."

"You don't understand. I wanted to kill him. I couldn't stop. My arms just kept moving."

"Amanda, listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong. The man you killed was Manuel Castillo, an enforcer for Pedro Aragon. It was him or you."

Mike was about to say something else when a man knocked on the doorjamb. He was an African American with glasses and a sturdy build, and Greene had never seen him before.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Greene, but I'd like a few words with Miss Jaffe."

"Who are you?" Greene asked.

"J. D. Hunter. I'm with the FBI."

"Can't this wait for later?"

"I've been informed that Ms. Jaffe had been kidnapped by one of her assailants." Mike stared at Amanda. "Kidnapping is a federal crime."

"What's he talking about?" Mike asked.

Amanda put a hand on Mike's arm. "It's okay, Mike. Let me talk to him."

"I'd like to question Miss Jaffe alone, if you don't mind."

Mike knew that he had no business being in the room, but he didn't want to leave Amanda. She flashed him a tired smile.

"I'm still a lawyer. I know how to protect myself."

Amanda squeezed his hand and watched as he left the room.

"Who called you?" Amanda asked as soon as the door closed behind Greene.

"Sean McCarthy," Hunter said.

"It seems like a funny thing to do, calling in the feds at this point."

Hunter laughed. "You don't miss a thing, do you? I heard you were sharp."

"So, what's this really about?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, not yet. But I'd appreciate it very much if you'd take it on faith that Jon Dupre may benefit from my investigation."

Amanda thought about that for a moment. "Ask your questions."

"Tell me about the kidnapping."

Amanda took a deep breath. Her kidnapper was dead but her emotions hadn't fully accepted that yet.

"I was captured in my parking garage a few days ago. The man in the basement and the two dead men in the living room took me out in the woods. They threatened to . . . to do things to me."

Amanda stopped, unable to repeat Castillo's threats.

"Do you know why you were kidnapped?"

Amanda nodded. "They wanted me to throw the cases against Jon Dupre."

"From what I've heard, they're easy cases to win. Why would Pedro Aragon have to fix them?"