“You want me closer? No problem!” Riley shouted at her right as he dove for her feet.
He collided with her knees before she could lift them out of the way. Olivia went down hard against the floor, her hip bumping painfully against the old wood and her head bouncing with enough force to make her see stars. Her vision began to blacken at the edges as though it was curling in on itself. She was going to pass out. He was going to kill her and make it look like she had killed herself. It just wasn’t fair!
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Duke had broken every traffic law on the books getting to Olivia’s apartment. He only knew where she lived because of a passing comment she’d made about the place. It wasn’t enough to make him really sure where he was going through. He could not help but be afraid he would get to the supposed destination only to be sure he was somehow wrong.
Henry’s big engine roared down the narrow, twisting road to the old cabin complex. There were a dozen cabins, but most of them seemed deserted at this time of night, no doubt their occupants still at work in the brightly lit Branson maze of family fun centers and the theater district.
Then Henry heard the gunshot. Not just over the cell phone he’d put in the cup holder of his center console, but outside in the night. He shouted something incoherent to him at the time. He just felt the rawness of his throat as he struggled to get to Olivia as fast as he could. The truck tires shrieked to a stop in front of the only brightly lit cabin in the complex.
Duke shoved his way out of the truck and sprinted for the doorway. He had all of the intellect of a charging bull. He hit the door with his shoulder and sent it splintering into pieces as it bounced off the wall and nearly smacked him a second time. But none of that mattered.
Olivia was on the floor. Riley was on top of her. He had the gun in his hand, pressing it tightly to her left temple as she tried weakly to bat his hands away. She seemed punch drunk, her movements erratic and powerless.
Duke’s anger bubbled over and he leaped into action without worrying about his own safety. He grabbed hold of Riley Saunders’s thin arm and wrenched the entire man off the floor.
The power behind that hit carried Riley and Duke both across the room. Riley slammed into the wall as Duke jerked his hand up into the air and tried to remove the gun from his grip. For the rarest second, Riley was stunned and Duke thought this might end without bloodshed. Then the light of recognition came into Riley’s eyes and he began to fight like a cornered polecat.
Struggling hard, Riley’s feet were beating against Duke’s calves, the toes of his boots hitting the sensitive spots on Duke’s knees as though the man had had some kind of training in self-defense. Riley’s free hand sought purchase on Duke’s nose, trying to grab his nostrils and rip them wide open.
Duke twisted his head and applied as much force as his taller, broader frame offered to Riley’s gun hand. The revolver went off, the popping sound smacking Duke’s eardrums and echoing around the room. It went off again. Three. Four. There were only two bullets left in the weapon. Soon it would be useless and the fight would be over.
As if Riley knew that too, he redoubled his efforts to struggle against Duke. Kicking and screaming and shouting, Riley tugged and yanked at his own arm as though he were a wild animal in a trap. Duke’s training kicked in. He folded Riley’s arm behind his back, trying to slip the gun out of Riley’s hand just as the man fired off one last shot.
The copper stench of blood filled the room. Riley stiffened against Duke and then went totally limp. Duke removed the gun. The sixth bullet was still in the weapon. It was hot. But the user wasn’t going to be firing the weapon again. He was shuffling slowly to the floor, his eyes glazing over in death even as he tried to speak. There was blood bubbling from his mouth, evidence that the bullet had gone through a lung.
“Riley?” Olivia’s tone was frantic. “Duke! Oh my God, are you okay?”
She was crying, sobbing as she ran at Duke. He looked down and realized he was covered in blood. “Not my blood,” he said breathlessly. “It’s not my blood.”
Olivia wrapped her arms around Duke and squeezed tightly. She buried her face against him and sobbed as though her heart was breaking. There was a huge goose egg on the back of her head that Duke could feel as he cradled her against him. He tried not to push on the bump. No doubt it hurt like hell. She had probably been nearly passed out on the floor when he got there.
“You came,” she whispered against him. “You came. I wasn’t even sure I had gotten through.”
“I got the call and got in the truck as soon as I realized what was happening,” Duke whispered.
He pulled back enough to examine her for damage. She had some bruises on her face. Her lip was bleeding and swollen. Yet she still looked perfect to him. He could not stop touching her, examining her hands and her arms and touching her delicate shoulders before running his fingers through her curls.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. Then she peeked around his bulky shoulder to look at her uncle. “Are the police coming?”
“Yes. Do you hear the sirens?” Duke looked toward the door. Then he looked at Riley on the ground. “I should be doing first aid. I should be trying to save him.”
Olivia pulled away and knelt at her uncle’s side. She lightly touched his neck at his pulse point and Duke could see her hold her breath. Then she looked up at him and shook her head. It was no wonder. The blood. God, the blood! The floor was covered in it. It covered Duke too. As if Riley Saunders had bled out as he was falling to the ground. He was saturated with the stuff. The room reeked.
“Let’s wait outside,” Duke suggested quietly. He took Olivia’s hand and led her away from her uncle’s body. “You should not have to look at this.”
“Why did they let him out?” Olivia whispered as they stepped onto the little front stoop of her cabin. “Why did the police let him go?”
“I don’t know,” Duke muttered. “That is something that Titus and I will be asking the boys in blue when they get here. I can assure you of that.”
The flashing lights were visible long before the police cruisers arrived at the scene. They were still in Taney County. That mean Branson PD was responding. Titus’s truck pulled up about the same time as the two cruisers stopped in front of the rundown cabins. Titus was out of the truck and all the way to Duke’s side before Sergeant Caprico and Detective Sellers had even gotten out of their vehicles.
“You’re on your feet,” Titus noted gruffly. “Are you shot anywhere?”
“No. Some bruises,” Duke acknowledged. “Olivia got pushed around a bit. Riley’s inside. We were struggling over the gun. He shot himself.”
“Got it.” Titus turned and folded his arms over his chest. “Good evening, gentlemen,” Titus said to Caprico and Sellers. “It’s really great the two of you made it back here to get a second chance to pick up the same suspect you collared a few hours ago and then had the idiocy to let out on bail.” Titus glared at the policemen. “At least I’m assuming you bonded or bailed him out and that he didn’t just walk out or escape. I know Branson PD has its issues, but I don’t think that’s one of them.”
Sellers pointed at Titus and growled. “You’d better watch yourself, Holbrook. You’re on our list.”
“Really?” Titus said sarcastically. “Because that suspect that we collared for you earlier is inside, dead by his own gun after trying to shoot my client and one of my agents.”
Now Caprico and Sellers shared an uncomfortable look between them. Then Sellers cleared his throat. “I find that difficult to believe. Mr. Saunders called his legal counsel, made bail, and then left. He was content to go home and perfectly calm.”
“Yeah, well he’s really calm now.” Titus glared at the cops. “You need to call the meat wagon and not the EMTs on this one. He’s dead.”
Caprico glared over at Olivia. “Did you shoot him? You’ve had a grudge. I can’t say I’d be surprised that you’d shoot him.”
“No, she did not.” Duke
felt a roaring wave of anger so powerful it left him needing to remind himself that wringing the necks of these officers with his bare hands was not actually a solution. “Riley showed up here with a gun that once belonged to Olivia’s deceased father. Riley’s plan was to make it look like Olivia had committed suicide.”
“And you know this how?” Caprico sneered. He moved closer to Duke, getting right up in Duke’s face. “Are you clairvoyant now? You going to get your own palm reading booth at the Landing?”
“No, dumbass,” Duke retorted. “I know because Olivia was smart enough to call my phone and leave the line open so I could hear what was going on while I drove over.”
Caprico looked taken aback. His confidence flickered for a moment and then came back as he twisted his lips into a look of derision. “You know, lying to us is a bad idea when we can check a call log to back it up.”
“You want to check my call log?” Duke gestured to Henry. “My phone is in the center console. The call is still active.”
Sellers nodded to Caprico. But Titus shook his head. “Oh, hell no you little shit. I’m not letting you hang up and then erase the call as though getting rid of evidence was just some game you play when you’re bored with your damned job.”
Titus ran to Henry and reached in through the driver’s door. He returned a moment later with the phone cradled in his hand. He showed it to Sellers who looked as though they’d just told him Christmas was canceled.
Sellers gestured to Caprico. “Go and grab Ms. Houghton’s phone. Don’t end the call. Just bring it here.”
Caprico disappeared into the little cabin. A moment later, he returned with Olivia’s phone. He put it to his ear. He spouted off a few words and Duke could hear them come through loud and clear on his own phone in Sellers’s hand.
“Okay,” Sellers told Duke calmly. “So, you killed Riley Saunders in self-defense.”
“That’s right.” Olivia seemed to be getting her gumption back. “Uncle Riley had already taken a few shots at me. There is—or rather there was a bullet hole in the front door.” Olivia glanced at Duke. “Duke had to break the door down to get inside. He was just in time. Riley had tripped me and I banged my head against the floor. He would have killed me. He had the gun to my head.”
“On the left side though,” Duke mused. “You’re right-handed. So even if he had tried to make it look like you shot yourself, it wouldn’t have made sense for a right-handed person to shoot themselves in the head from the left hand and left side.”
“Everyone is a crime expert these days,” Sellers muttered. The lights of a big van came slowly down the road. “There’s the county coroner’s office. Fortunately, they don’t have far to come. The lot of you had better wait around to give statements though. And Ms. Houghton, I’ll have to confiscate that gun as evidence.”
“I don’t care,” Olivia told him with a shiver. Duke put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Take it. Keep it for all I care. I don’t want the thing.”
Titus watched the officers that slowly began to arrive on scene. It was getting late and the adrenaline was crashing and Duke felt like the only thing he wanted to do was go home.
“Boss, can I please take Olivia home with me now?” Duke rumbled at Titus.
Titus held up his hand to tell Duke to wait a second. Then he signaled to Detective Sellers. “Hey, you going to take statements? Ms. Houghton is done in and I think it’s getting a little ridiculous for the lot of you to keep her here when she hasn’t even had a chance to be looked over by an EMT to get an accurate picture of her injuries. She could have a concussion.”
“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” Olivia moaned.
Duke gently cupped her face. “You have to, angel. They need to document your injuries for the case.”
“What case?” she muttered. “He shot himself on accident. Case closed. There were two witnesses.”
“I know that,” Duke whispered. Once again, he wished he could just put her in his pocket. She was so adorably exhausted and thankfully she was all in one piece. “But we have to play by the rules here.”
“Titus Holbrook, imagine finding you here at the scene of a crime.”
It was Titus’s turn to roll his eyes as Hilary Allenwood appeared from what looked like the woods surrounding the cabin. It was almost like she’d walked in from a few streets over just to get a few pictures of the dark and foreboding area for her newspaper article.
“Hilary!” Detective Sellers actually looked glad to see the reporter. “I’d be happy to give a statement if you want.”
“Oh goodie,” Hilary said mockingly. “See Titus? Some people like to cooperate so they don’t always come out looking like the bad guy.”
“Meaning,” Titus growled, “that they play your games so you don’t paint them into the criminal position in your articles.”
“Whatever.” Hilary started snapping off photographs.
Duke carefully positioned himself between Hilary and Olivia so she couldn’t get a view of anything but his back. “You’ve seen enough, Hilary. Move on or be moved.”
“Is that a threat”
“I don’t make threats, you muckraking moron.” Duke’s patience had run out sometime in the last few hours. “Either you move along or I will move you along. End of story. I don’t have to be rough about it. How’s that. I’ll just pick you up nice and easy and move you to somewhere a little less annoying.”
Hilary waved her middle finger at Duke and then moved toward Caprico and Sellers. Olivia tensed when she saw the three of them with their heads together. Duke knew she was worried about what kind of extra story details they might decide to come up with, but the truth of the matter was that this was all over. Over and done with.
“It’s going to be all right now,” Duke whispered to Olivia. He wished he could make her believe it. “It doesn’t matter what any of them want to say, Olivia. We know the truth and we have each other to make sure the right version of the story gets told.”
“I hope you’re right,” she told him. Then she gazed up at him for a long moment. “And I really want it to be over because I just want to start over.”
Chapter Thirty
By the time Duke pulled up in front of a quaint little house tucked into the hills not all that far from Olivia’s own rundown apartment complex, it was very, very late. He didn’t seem to be in a rush. He took Henry out of gear and let the truck idle for a minute with the air conditioning running on low, just enough air to keep the cab from getting stuffy. The air outside was so humid that the windows were fogging over on the outside.
“Olivia?” Duke was staring at her with a strange intensity she’d never seen in his expression before. “I don’t want you to feel as though there are any expectations here tonight. I’ve only brought you here because this is the one place I can be sure is safe and secure and totally free from—well whatever we could imagine I suppose.”
Olivia offered Duke a smile. It was a tired smile. She felt as though the muscles in her face were almost too exhausted to move. She reached over and touched Duke’s hand. “I know you don’t expect anything. That’s not what you’re like. If you were like that, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be back at my place trying to forget there are bloodstains on the floor.”
She shivered at the thought of it. The big pool of dark red staining the old wood in her little cabin was never going to come up. She was sure of it. She would have to have the floors refinished because she couldn’t go back there. For the moment, her entire mind was consumed with that thought. She could not go back. She couldn’t. Riley’s ghost would be there waiting for her. She was sure of it.
“How could he do that?” Olivia whispered into the darkness. “How could he plan to murder me so casually? Like I meant nothing.”
There was a long moment of quiet between them. She respected the fact that Duke did not feel the need to wax-poetic about the nature of criminals. He was just content to sit in the dark with her. He had shut off the headlights so almost
no light, save the bright moon and stars above, filled the space. She felt so tiny down there on earth. Tiny and alone.
There were no tears. Somehow, this bothered Olivia. She should have been crying. She should have been at least mourning her uncle’s passing. She was going to have to plan his funeral. How did that even happen? To have to plan the funeral of a man who had not only taken shameless advantage of her during her life, but who had tried to murder her and make it look like suicide.
“Let’s go inside,” Duke whispered. “We need to get you sitting down with your feet up. Do you want some tea? I think I have tea.”
He was chattering at her in his low, soothing voice. She liked it. He exited the driver’s side of the truck and came around to Olivia’s side of the vehicle. He helped her down, making her feel tiny and petite and so very feminine as he set her lightly on her feet and kept his hands around her waist to make sure she was steady enough to stand.
“Tea would be nice,” Olivia said absently.
Just the sight of Duke distracted her. The feel of him. The way his voice rumbled in his chest so deeply and with such resonance that she could feel it beneath her palms when she touched him. She was fascinated with him. He was a man. Not just a paper cut-out of a man, but a real one. The sort of man who knew how to make a woman feel like a woman. A queen among women.
He escorted her to the front door of his house. The old A-frame structure sagged a little with age, but there were bright lights in the two front windows and the deep front porch looked as though it had been recently built. The wood was still pink and smelled faintly of sawdust. A porch swing hung from the space on the right. Olivia could imagine nights with her legs curled beneath her in the porch swing as the two of them swayed back and forth without speaking. Duke Dunbar was the sort of man who would appreciate that.
Rock Wolf Investigations: Boxset Page 22
