by Amy Vansant
“Sure, spit it out.”
Declan pointed to the hall. “In the back?”
Seamus glanced at Snookie. “Anything you need to tell me you can say in front of her.”
“So you two know each other?” asked Charlotte.
Snookie shook her head. “We met this afternoon.”
Declan stared at Seamus until he sighed and winked at Snookie. “I’ll be right back.”
Declan headed into his bedroom and closed the door after Seamus joined him inside.
“Sorry to show up like this but the bar is a disaster. Between the mess from the party and—”
“As annoying as this really is, believe it or not, you being here is the least of my problems. Jamie’s in town, remember?”
“You know for sure now?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why would she come here?”
“According to Stephanie, she’s here to kill Charlotte and me.”
Seamus pointed toward the front of the house. “I saw the tripwire out front.”
Declan put his hands on his hips. “I meant to ask you about that. How did you avoid it?”
Seamus chuckled. “I’m me.”
“Seriously. I didn’t think I’d totally lost my touch.”
Seamus took a gulp of his beer. “You asked me about the weapons room. I thought you might have the place rigged.” He sniffed. “The tough part was explaining to Snookie why she had to step over a tripwire. Is it tied to a grenade?”
“What? No. It’s just an alert. You think I’m trying to blow the legs off the FedEx guy?” Declan ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe it’s better you’re here. I might need the help. But you can’t endanger your lady friend.”
“Yes, he can,” said a woman’s voice.
Snookie pushed open the bedroom door, holding a badge in her hand. “I’m FBI.”
“Really?” Seamus’s initial expression of surprise shifted to a leer. “Is it wrong that turns me on?”
Declan scowled at him. “What is wrong with you?”
Snookie chuckled before returning to business. “We know about Moriarty. The office asked me to swing by Charity for a nose around. You’re saying you’ve seen her?”
Declan shook his head. “Not exactly—”
“Are you guys having a party I wasn’t invited to?” asked Charlotte, appearing at the end of the hall.
Declan motioned to Snookie. “She’s FBI, here for Jamie.”
Charlotte couldn’t resist it. “Agent Snookie?”
“Hot, isn’t it?” asked Seamus.
Declan slapped him in the chest with the back of his hand.
“You and Jackie broke up?” asked Charlotte.
Seamus nodded. “Something about me being a royal pain in the ass.”
“Sounds about right,” said Charlotte.
Snookie and Seamus exchanged a flirty glance and Declan frowned. “Can we take this out of my bedroom?”
Charlotte led the way back into the living room. “What now?” she asked Snookie as they gathered near the sofa.
Snookie opened her mouth as if to speak, but hiccupped instead.
“Whoops. Excuse me.”
She cleared her throat and started again. “Tell me what you know.”
Declan began. “Jamie’s here and she wants us dead, according to her daughter, Stephanie.”
Snookie frowned. “I talked to Stephanie. She claimed she didn’t know anything about her mother.”
“She’s not really the forthcoming type,” said Charlotte.
“According to Stephanie, Jamie hired a sniper to try and kill us once already,” added Declan.
Charlotte’s focus shifted to him. “What? When?”
He winced, realizing he’d been so busy getting Corentine to safety he’d forgotten to tell Charlotte about the sniper.
“Turns out that lamppost at Angelo’s didn’t just explode.”
Charlotte raised her hand to her mouth. “Thank goodness he was a lousy shot.”
“That might have something to do with Stephanie. I think she interrupted him.”
“How?”
“I wasn’t allowed to ask.”
Charlotte swallowed. “So, we probably don’t have to worry about him anymore.” She turned to Snookie. “We think Jamie tried to frame another woman, so she could blame our deaths on her afterwards. Jamie might have killed two people in town already, setting that up.”
“We sent the woman she was framing away,” added Declan.
Snookie frowned and strolled toward the sofa. “At this point, I think we need to—”
A loud crack! made the group cower in unison. The sliding glass door leading to the back yard spidered into a network of white cracks.
Like a dancer, Snookie pirouetted and collapsed onto the sofa.
Declan heard a howl behind him. The wind whistled across a hole in the center of the shattered, but intact, impact resistant glass.
“What was that?” asked Charlotte, lowering her arms from where they shielded her head.
Declan grabbed her arm and pulled her lower to the ground.
“Stay down.”
Seamus leapt to Snookie’s side. She lay slumped on the sofa, her eyes wide, her hand placed over her heart as if she were saying the pledge of allegiance.
“Is she okay?” asked Declan.
Seamus barked at him. “Stay down.”
“Was it a stone?” asked Charlotte.
He shook his head. “A bullet.”
Seamus pulled Snookie off the sofa to the ground.
A red stain grew below her left shoulder.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Definitely a bullet,” said Snookie through gritted teeth.
Seamus slid Snookie to the floor as she muttered obscenities.
Abby started barking and Declan and Charlotte both raised their heads to investigate why. Finding no intruders, Charlotte grabbed the dog’s collar and ran her to Declan’s bedroom to shut her in where she’d be safe. She couldn’t have the dog underfoot while they were taking fire.
“Sorry sweetie,” she said as Abby protested from her prison.
Charlotte sprinted back toward the living room, staying low even in the hall. As she reached the end she groaned, remembering again she’d left her phone in her smoky bedroom.
She glanced around the corner.
“Who has a phone? Someone call 911.”
Declan had repositioned himself beside the slider windows, gun in hand.
“I’m taking her to the guest room,” said Seamus.
“Gun,” said Snookie, sounding as if it hurt to talk.
Seamus stroke her hair from her face. “I know, darlin’. I’m afraid I’ve brought you here at a bad time.”
“My thigh. Gun.”
“You’re shot in the leg as well?”
Snookie shook her head. “Take my gun. You’ll need it.”
Seamus’s hand slid up Snookie’s skirt and Charlotte saw him gasp.
“Yer packin’.”
Snookie bit down. “Of course I’m packing.”
“Apologies,” said Seamus, his second hand riding higher on Snookie’s leg. He fumbled there a moment before pulling a gun and garter holster from beneath her skirt.
He kissed her forehead. “Is it wrong I’m even more attracted to you now?”
Snookie laughed and then winced. “Keep me alive and we’ll discuss that later.”
“Deal.” He looked at Charlotte. “Help me get her back there. Stay low.”
Tucking Snookie’s gun in his belt, he scooped her by the shoulders as Charlotte wrapped her fingers around the woman’s ankles. Together they carted her to the guest room and laid her on the bed.
“Shutters,” said Seamus.
Charlotte ran to the other side of the bed and closed them.
Seamus gave Snookie’s hand a squeeze and headed for the door. “Keep pressure on the wound.”
Alarmed, Charlotte grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”
&
nbsp; “I have to help Declan. We need to nip this in the bud.” He slid from her grasp and disappeared around the corner.
Charlotte looked at Snookie, who rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“No kidding.”
“Always leaving you when you’re most shot.”
Charlotte bit her lip, staring at the ever growing crimson stain on Snookie’s upper chest. “I’m going to get a towel. Two seconds.”
She shot across the hall to the bathroom and grabbed a stack of towels from the closet. Dropping the bulk of them on the floor beside the bed, she hovered over her patient with one in hand.
“This is going to hurt,” she said.
Snookie nodded. “Hold on a second. Help me roll over a little. Did it come out my back?”
With Charlotte’s help, Snookie rolled to her side, releasing a stifled scream. Charlotte ducked to examine her back.
“No. Nothing there.”
“Damn. It’s still in there.” Snookie let out a breath as Charlotte eased her back to the bed. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Charlotte laid the towel on the wound and pressed, gently at first, and then with growing force. Snookie whimpered and looked away.
“So you’re FBI?” asked Charlotte, trying to distract her from the pain. She hoped it might also distract her from the living room. Who knew what Declan and Seamus were about to do? Who knew who lay in wait outside? It could be Jamie with an entire team of snipers.
Would it be too much to hope she’d taken her shot and left?
The muscle in Snookie’s jaw bulged as she bit against the pain. “Retired yesterday. Figures.”
“Retired?”
“Yep. Except for this last Jamie thing.”
“You and Seamus—”
Snookie released a laugh that sounded more like a snort. “Kinda. Used him to get to you two. Figured you might be a target.” She smiled. “He is adorable though. And just my type.”
“Really?”
“Yep. The terrible idea type.”
“Why didn’t you just talk to us?”
“Wasn’t sure how much you two knew. Didn’t want to spook you. That went well.”
Charlotte nodded. “Hey, do you have a phone up that skirt? I don’t know if they remembered to call 911 now that they’re in commando mode.”
Snookie shook her head. “Phone’s in my purse out there.”
“I should go get it.”
Charlotte lessened her pressure, preparing to leave. Snookie grabbed her wrist. “No. It isn’t safe.”
Declan popped into the room. “How’s it going?” He moved to Snookie’s side and covered Charlotte’s hand, asking her to remove the towel.
“Good. I could use a second opinion,” said Snookie, flashing a smile at Charlotte.
“Is it Jamie? Is she gone?” she asked as he gently lifted the towel.
He peered at the wound as she uncovered it. “We’re going outside to look. That’s what I came to tell you. Did this go through?”
“No,” said Snookie, her fists clenched against the pain of Declan’s inspection.
“Okay. Keep pressure on. Doesn’t look like it hit anything too serious. You’ll be okay. We’ll be back as fast as we can.”
“Did you call 911? Neither of us have a phone.”
“No. I will—”
“Declan, let’s go!” roared Seamus from the other room.
“Gotta go.” Declan grabbed Charlotte and kissed her on the lips, lingering a moment as if he didn’t want to leave. “Stay here. Don’t do anything stupid.”
She looked into his eyes. “Says the guy going outside to hunt the serial killer.”
He pecked her again on the head before striding out of the room.
Charlotte returned to pressing Snookie’s wound.
“You two make a cute couple,” she said.
“Thanks.” Charlotte heard something in the hall behind her. “Oh, he’s back—”
Before she could turn she saw Snookie’s expression change to one of surprise, her gaze locked on something in the doorway.
Charlotte whirled.
A woman stood at the doorway, a gun in her hand raised and pointed at her.
She wore a dust mask over her face, but Charlotte knew exactly who she was.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“All packed?”
Stephanie nodded and rolled her suitcase to the front door of her office. She allowed herself one last look around the lobby.
My lobby.
My law firm.
She sighed.
Jamie put a hand on her shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
Stephanie poked her head through the front door to find the wind whipping the rain into sheets. The palm trees bent, fronds stretched in one direction like hula girls frozen in one position.
She shut the door. “Can’t we wait until the hurricane is over? It’s stupid to drive now.”
Jamie shook her head. “Nope. I’ve already stayed too long.”
“We’ll be soaked.”
“That’s part of the fun.”
“Do you even know where we’re going?”
“Of course I do.”
Stephanie chewed her lip. “And you promise me you’ll leave Declan alone if I come with you?”
Jamie sighed. She seemed annoyed by the questions. “I promise. You’re making the right decision. You’ll see.”
“And you didn’t hire anyone else to kill him while we’re gone?”
“No. You took care of Vince.”
Stephanie frowned.
That’s why I’m so tired.
It had taken her hours to dispose of the body.
Stupid Vince.
She recalled her discussion with Declan and frowned at her mother.
“What about the person you were setting up?”
Jamie suddenly seemed very interested in her luggage. “Hm?”
“Don’t play stupid. I know about the WITSEC you were going to frame for Declan’s murder.”
Jamie sighed. “Oh, her. Okay. You got me. She was backup, but I’ve abandoned that plan. I wish I’d never started it. Killing people and trying to make the deaths look like accidents—pain in the butt.”
“But what if she follows through?”
“How? She doesn’t know anything.”
Jamie looked genuinely confused.
Stephanie wasn’t sure if she’d seen that before. “Nothing?”
“Well, I’m sure she thinks it’s weird she keeps getting called to murder scenes that look like her own. But she doesn’t know about Declan.”
“Or Charlotte?”
“Or Charlotte.”
Stephanie crossed her arms against her chest. “That means you set fire to Charlotte’s house.”
Jamie clucked her tongue “You know about that?”
“It was on the news. You tried to kill her after you promised not to. How can I trust anything you say?”
Jamie chewed the inside of her cheek. “I thought our thing was more about Declan.”
Stephanie stomped her foot. “I told you if you killed Charlotte he’d never forgive me. The end result’s the same.”
“I must have missed that part.”
“You’re so full of—”
Jamie crossed her palms against her chest. “Look, I promise. Okay? I swear on myself. You know that’s the only thing I care about.” She chuckled.
“If they end up hurt after we leave I will kill you.”
“That seems fair. If they’re hurt, I’ll kill myself. How about that?”
Stephanie stared hard at her mother.
Was she lying?
Obviously, she’d never kill herself.
She couldn’t trust her, but she seemed to be telling the truth about letting Declan and Charlotte go. She’d copped to the murders, and if the witness didn’t even know about Declan, he had to be safe...
He is, isn’t he?
She took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, steady stream. “So you promise th
ey’re all safe? There’s nothing you want to tell me now?”
Jamie shook her head. “I promise. Nothing.”
Stephanie’s shoulders released. She’d done all she could to protect him.
I give up.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Jamie threw an arm around her daughter and pulled her close to press their noses together.
“We’re going to have such adventures.”
Stephanie recoiled.
“Stop that.”
Her mother laughed and, with a final squeeze, left the office to sprint through the driving rain to Stephanie’s Viper, covering her head with her arms.
Free from Jamie’s watchful gaze, Stephanie slid her phone from her pocket.
She looked at the image of Declan she used to signify his profile on her phone and touched it with her finger as if stroking his cheek.
Bye, Baby.
She typed a quick text and pushed the phone back into her pocket.
Bracing herself, Stephanie stepped outside.
She turned her back to the storm to lock the office one final time.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Declan called 911 to alert the police and send an ambulance to the house. He rattled off his address and declined to remain on the line.
“Let’s hit the perimeter,” urged Seamus.
Declan’s phone buzzed as he pushed it back into his pocket. A text. He started to pull it back out and then realized Charlotte didn’t have a phone. No reason to check.
No time.
They had to get outside to catch the shooter. Jamie or her gun-toting minions would be closing in by now. They wouldn’t expect them to bring the fight outside. For a little while longer, they had enjoyed the element of surprise.
Weapons drawn, they stepped through the front door and into the hurricane.
Rivers of water rushed down the street carrying leaves and trash from people’s yards. Chunks of palm flew through the air. Someone’s patio chair had found its way into his yard. The horizon flickered as, miles away, lightning struck.
Declan motioned for them to split. Seamus headed right to round the house, careful to avoid the tripwire slung low across the front landing. Declan headed left, gaze sweeping the streets and yards around him. No cars drove past. Nothing moved except debris thrown by the storm.
Finding his side yard clear, Declan continued forward to meet Seamus beside his sloshing lap pool. His back yard had a cement block wall surrounding it.
