by Nora Kane
“You could have been killed,” Driver said as he put her gun in a plastic bag and then stored it in the glove box.
“No shit, but I wasn’t.”
“It’d been nice to talk to Cassie’s abductor, though.”
“He didn’t seem interested in talking. I gave him more chances than I should have.”
“If it helps, Cassie backs your story.”
“Then why am I in handcuffs?”
“Cranston thinks you might have coerced her.”
“Did I tie her up too? Put her up in this shitbag excuse for a motel just so I could kill an armed man I never met?”
“I didn’t say I thought you coerced her.”
“Neither does Cranston. He just sees an opportunity to mess with me.”
“You’re not wrong. You still should have called me.”
When Margot didn’t reply, Driver asked, “Don’t you trust me?”
“I’d have more faith if you weren’t about to let your partner lock me up in county while Radcliff is in the hospital.”
“You put me in a tough position on that one.”
“Where you bullshitting me when you said you wanted me to help?”
“No.”
“I can’t help if I’m in jail.”
“You do have a point there. Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“Looks like a bartender from He Just Left by the name of Sherry talked to Mal a few days ago. He was looking for Cassie.”
“To kill her?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Clean found her first.”
“Mr. Clean?”
“The guy I shot. Cassie called him Mr. Clean.”
“I can see it. Is He Just Left a Devil Racer’s hangout?”
“Sure is.”
“I suppose we can talk to her. Do you think this has anything to do with Ames and Radcliff?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
Cranston got in the car behind the wheel. He looked back at Margot and drawled, “So bitch, you ready to go to jail?”
Margot smiled. “Take off the cuffs and call me a bitch again.”
“We’ll see how tough you are on the inside. I hear they love cops in there.”
“Cool it, Cranston,” Driver said.
“Don’t forget whose side you’re on,” Cranston warned him. “Don’t let a decent-looking piece of tail derail you with the department.”
“It’s not that…”
“Sure looks like it to me.”
Cranston started the car, but just then there was a knock on his window. He looked over to see Thaddius Wolf standing there. He rolled down the window and asked, “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to know where you’re taking my client?”
“Your client?”
“Ms. Harris.”
“I thought you were Cassandra Cole’s lawyer. That’s what you told me.”
“I said I was an attorney and I wanted to talk to Cassandra.”
“I assumed you were her attorney.”
“I’m not responsible for your assumptions. Back to my original question.”
“We’re taking her to jail for the night, and if there is any justice in the world, it’ll be a lot longer than that.”
“Why?”
“I know the crime scene is off limits, but there’s a dead man inside, courtesy of your client.”
“Do you mean the man who kidnapped Ms. Cole and tortured her? The man who in all likelihood was going to murder her? Are we talking about the same man who threatened my client with a firearm and ignored multiple requests for him to put the firearm down?”
“That’s for the court to decide. Right now, I’ve got a dead body and a shooter. That’s all I need.”
“I think I’ll have all I need as well. More probably.”
“Need for what?”
“After the criminal charges, a civil suit.”
“Criminal charges?”
“Ms. Harris exposed your corrupt partner. This arrest is part of a pattern of harassment born either out of your embarrassment of not realizing the extent of your partner's criminal behavior or to cover up your role as an accomplice.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“When did your shift end?”
“I don’t know if you noticed, pretty boy, but murderers don’t strictly abide by a nine-to-five schedule.”
“So, your shift ended some time ago?”
“Did you miss what I just said?”
“Were there no detectives available? Did your boss call you in?”
Cranston didn’t answer.
“Or did you tell someone to alert you if Ms. Harris’s name came up on a call?”
Again, Cranston didn’t answer.
“So, we have you coming to answer a call off your shift to arrest my client and make sure she goes to jail even though all the evidence points to self-defense while in the process of saving a young woman’s life?”
“You don’t know what the evidence says…”
“I know what the crime scene tech told me.”
“You talked to them too?”
Wolf shrugged. “Are you ready to release her into my custody?”
“Just let her go, Cranston,” Driver said. “We both know nothing criminal happened here on her part.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Sounds like he’s on your side,” Wolf told him. “He’s keeping you out of trouble.”
Cranston shook his head and gave everyone a nasty look before he got out of the car.
“You know, maybe you shouldn’t be going out of your way to make enemies out of cops,” Cranston said to Wolf as he unlocked the back door and helped a handcuffed Margot out of the car.
“You say that as if cops don’t need lawyers too.”
Cranston undid the handcuffs and stepped back.
“Someday you’re going to do something and even Mr. Slick over here isn’t going to be able to save you.”
“You might consider I’m trying to help,” Margot told him.
“Don’t. You’re not a cop. Do everyone a favor and stick to catching cheating husbands.”
“I think Ms. Cole would strenuously disagree,” Wolf replied.
“So would tonight’s cheating husband,” Margot added.
“If not for Ms. Harris’s actions, the young woman would have likely been tortured to death and the perpetrator of the torture would be nowhere to be found,” Wolf added. “Instead of trying to toss her in a cage, you should be thanking her.”
“Not going to happen,” Cranston muttered as he climbed back behind the wheel.
As he and Driver left the scene Margot said, “That actually went better than I could have imagined. Thank you.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be thanking me in billable hours that you’re not going to bill me for.”
“I’m good with that.”
“I don’t suppose you need a ride home? I brought the Porsche if you need a lift.”
“You parked a Porsche at the Lucky Irish?”
“I turned on the alarm.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got my car.”
“I wouldn’t mind a ride,” Cassie said, coming up beside him. “Even if I wanted to stay here, I don’t think it’s an option since my room became a crime scene.”
“I suppose I could do that. Where do you want to go?”
Cassie let out a short humorless laugh. “That’s a damn good question. I don’t really have anywhere at the moment.”
“You can take her to my place,” Margot told him.
“Your place?” Wolf asked.
“Sure, why not.”
“A better question is why?” Cassie added.
“You need somewhere to go, and the more I think about it, the more I think that until I find Mal, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“I’m your prisoner?”
“M
ore like a personal bodyguard.”
“Maybe you should take her up on that one,” Wolf told Cassie.
“You never did give me that interview you promised…” Cassie said to Margot.
“Maybe while I’m trying to figure out who wants you dead and how it ties to Mal and Radcliff, I can work it in.”
“Okay, can I still ride in the Porsche? No offense, but it’s a way cooler car than your Prius.”
“If you say so.”
Chapter 11
By the time they got to Margot’s place, both women were exhausted. However, both also knew the events of the past few days and hours would make it hard to sleep. With this in mind, Margot poured them both a glass of Maker’s over ice.
“Do you ever drink anything different?” Cassie asked as she took a sip and made a face as the whiskey burn crawled down her throat.
“Why mess with perfection?”
“For variety? I hear it’s the spice of life.”
“My life has been too spicy lately. I don’t need more.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Cassie agreed as she took another sip.
“Do you want the couch or the bed?”
“Couch actually sounds awesome right now. I’ve been mostly sleeping in my car since that crazy bitch shot my roommate and my boyfriend.”
“Couch it is. If you go in the kitchen, you can find a few holes in the wall where she tried to do the same to me.”
“You know, if I’d stayed in my car, they might have never found me. Going to the Lucky Irish was my biggest mistake.”
“You should have gone to a nicer place not frequented by criminals and low lifes.”
“Sadly, my budget and the criminal low life budget is pretty much the same.”
Margot nodded and sipped some more whiskey.
“Do you think they killed Burke on my account?” Cassie asked.
“How would they have known he was there? Mal wasn’t his case; the tip went to Ames and Radcliff. Burke looks like collateral damage right now.”
“What if the tipster didn’t set them up?”
“Always possible, but Driver seems sure. No one had been in the room since someone booked it over the phone using a stolen debit card to pay the bill. They waited for them to come out, according to witnesses.”
Margot’s phone buzzed. She immediately thought of Radcliff’s brother and checked the text, which read:
If you’re awake you should get down here.
“What is it?” Cassie asked.
“Probably not good news,” Margot told her. “I need to get to the hospital.”
“Your detective friend?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come along? I don’t know if I can handle being alone yet.”
“You sure? You can take the bed and get some rest.”
“Yeah, I’m still freaking out about the whole thing.”
“As long as nothing that happens at the hospital ends up on your show.”
“I don’t think after all this there’s going to be a show. Getting tied up by a murderous psychopath took all the fun out of it.”
Margot took a gulp of her drink and stood up. “Let’s go.”
On the way to her car, she texted Ron, “I’m coming.”
She drove too fast to get there but made it without a ticket or a wreck. Ron met her in the lobby.
“He’s been asking about you.”
“Asking about me? Does that mean he’s awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Your text made it sound like bad news.”
“Sorry. They’re only allowing family in the ICU, but I’m sure if you’re with me they’ll let you come up.”
They both looked at Cassie.
“I’ll grab a nap in the waiting room, or try to anyway.”
Margot nodded and followed Ron to the elevator. Before it shut, Rodriquez joined them.
“I hear your brother is awake,” she said as she caught the door before it closed and stepped aboard.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Knowing things is my business,” she said and then looked at Margot. “I hear you rescued Cassandra Cole and killed her abductor.”
Margot shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Rodriguez didn’t have any more to say so they all rode silently up to the ninth floor.
While it was certainly better than seeing him dead, seeing the young strong detective laying in a hospital bed hooked to multiple machines with numerous tubes running out of his arms looking pale and weak was not a pleasant sight. Margot looked at the machine to his right displaying his vital signs and didn’t like what she saw. Everything was down at levels that could best be described as barely alive.
Margot figured the last thing he needed was to see her break down, so she did her best not to cry as she approached the bed.
“I found her,” Ron said as he walked up and stood next to the bed.
Radcliff tried to sit up to see her, but Margot moved into his field of vision so he could see her while remaining lying down. Radcliff tried to smile, but it appeared that hurt as well.
“Good to see you,” he whispered.
Margot took a deep breath to keep it together before she replied, “Good to see you too.”
Rodriguez stepped up and Radcliff whispered, “Chief.”
“Can you tell me who did this to you?” she asked.
“A guy in a white car, a big sedan, I think, but I didn’t see what kind. Ames or Burke had a better look than I did. I’d just left the room before the shooting started.”
Spitting out this sentence seemed to exhaust him.
Rodriguez and Margot looked at each other, wondering if they should tell him and if they should, who should do it.
