"You’re sure he was here?" Shaw asked.
Under normal circumstances, I’d get pissed that I was being questioned, but since Jack wasn’t here and I’d said he was, I couldn’t blame Shaw for his confusion.
"Yes. He was right there. On the ground. Tied up." I glanced around. "Felicia had a gun on him."
"Felicia Kowalski is a troubled young woman," Shaw said quietly.
"Yeah, like I couldn’t figure that out," I said sarcastically. "Listen, what else do you know about all this, I mean, really? That was a nice story and all about Ralph and his bullshit, but Felicia and Ashley Ellis were involved, too. You must know more. Ashley’s dead—someone killed her in your condo."
"I’m aware of that. I spent most of the afternoon with the police."
"Why did you rent the condo to them?"
"They needed a place to live. I needed a tenant. There’s really nothing sinister about that."
Guess not, if you looked at it from a purely business point of view.
"So who killed Ashley?" I asked as a siren sounded in the distance.
"Ralph got your friend Ned involved in things he shouldn’t have," Shaw said grimly.
"He’s not my friend. Anymore," I added. "He killed her?"
"I didn’t say that."
"So Ned didn’t kill Ashley?"
"Ned introduced Ralph to Felicia. Ned knew Felicia had connections with the young people in the projects. He knew what Ralph needed for his scheme. He helped set it all up. But he was just a pawn." Shaw was so damn calm about all this. Why was he making me figure it out when he obviously knew everything that was going on? He wasn’t my goddamn shrink.
"Someone else was involved, right? Someone Ralph was working with. Did Ned know about this other person?"
Some of the puzzle pieces had started to fit, but I still didn’t have the whole picture.
Shaw didn’t have an opportunity to answer. The siren had gotten louder, and the cruiser swung around just beyond the picnic table that sat on a small patch of dead grass in the middle of a paved circle. A uniformed cop stepped out of the car and approached us. As he got closer, I recognized my new best friend, Officer Riley.
"Hey there," I said casually.
He flashed a light across my eyes, then across Shaw’s, stopping on Shaw’s face. "You," he said simply.
I felt a slight tension hanging in the air amid the humidity. Could be racial tension. Riley hadn’t seemed that way earlier, but then again, I didn’t know him too well.
The light scanned the cave after a few seconds.
"Thought someone was tied up here," Riley said.
I shrugged. "Was earlier. No clue where he got off to."
"Detective Behr said you’re both to come with me."
I wondered where the other cops were. I mean, I’d told Tom about Ned and Felicia and Jack Hammer, but he only sent one guy? I asked Riley about that.
He was still eyeing the cave as he said casually, "The Jeep didn’t make it too far. We stopped them at the corner of Wintergreen and Fitch. They sent me on ahead to pick you up."
He herded us into the backseat of his cruiser, and we started down the road. I watched the back of Riley’s head as Shaw stared out the window like we were on a Sunday morning drive.
The drive down made me a little dizzy, sitting in the backseat and all. I never did well in the back. I figured I could keep my questions for Tom, even though it was driving me crazy that I didn’t know everything. I thought about Shaw and his claim that Ralph’s stolen money turned his life around. Could it be true? And why didn’t Ralph turn his own life around?
"He knew he couldn’t," Shaw said, startling me. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud—or, at least, whispered it to myself.
"Why not?" I asked.
"He liked making up that story. He liked the con," Shaw said flatly, watching me carefully. "He was good at it—conning people."
I snorted. "Yeah, he was."
Shaw sighed. "I was the impetus for getting him back here. I thought maybe by coming back to the scene of the crime, so to speak, he could sort it out, sort out what happened with you and, by extension, what had happened to him all those years ago. Instead, he managed to get involved in something worse."
The words scrambled around in my head. Shaw kept talking as if he didn’t notice my confusion. But I was learning that not much got past Shaw.
"He met a cop who got him started with the gun purchases," Shaw said, his eyes lifting up toward the back of Riley’s head. "The cop wanted drugs. He gave Ralph the guns for a trade, plus a little monetary incentive. It was easy. Really easy."
Riley’s ears perked up at that. He cocked his head back a little, listening to us without even pretending he wasn’t.
"My mother said Ralph was going to spill the beans, tell the feds who was in on it with him. Did you have something to do with that?" I asked.
Shaw nodded. "But then he died."
"Who’s the cop?" I asked, more than aware that Riley had slowed down now, waiting to hear what Shaw had to say.
"He’s been closer than you think."
With a lurch, the cruiser slammed to a stop. I hit the back of the front seat with my forehead. I hadn’t bothered strapping myself in. Shaw had landed with more of a thud than I had; his head was bigger.
"What the fuck?" I muttered, sitting back and looking up at Riley.
But I didn’t see him.
I saw the barrel of a gun aimed at my face. I remembered Jamond telling me how "Johnny" had supplied guns to his friend. Riley’s first name was Jonathan.
"Get out," Riley growled.
Shaw had already opened the door, and I scurried out after him, ignoring my hurt leg.
"That way," Riley ordered, cocking his head toward the woods. Major déjà vu. He nudged us forward, staying just inches behind, hitting each of us in the shoulders every now and then with his service revolver to make sure we wouldn’t look back at him.
"When I say so, I want you to run," he said. "To me, you’re Ned Winters and Felicia Kowalski. I didn’t realize that they’d already been caught."
Of course I can’t keep my mouth shut. "But you said—"
"Detective told me to come up here before I heard on the radio that they’d gotten the Jeep."
So he was going to kill us and get away with it with that story. Shit, it would probably work.
"You both think you’re so fucking smart," Riley said. He pushed Shaw forward. "How long would it be before you told the feds who the cop was?"
Riley shoved me as Shaw stumbled. "And you, you have to show me up and climb down your fire escape? I’ll probably get written up for that." He snorted. "Looks like I can get rid of two problems for the price of one."
I had no doubt that I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, even though he’d obviously been jonesing for me since I made him look like an idiot. And I had no doubt he’d shoot us. Shaw didn’t, either, but there was something about the way Shaw was jogging, the way he was holding himself, that made me wonder if Shaw had a plan.
I certainly hoped so, because I didn’t. I was all out of plans. I was tired and hurting and my stomach growled in hunger. I thought about Vinny and that I’d been too scared to tell him I loved him. I thought about Tom and how I would always care about him, but not in the same way as I cared about Vinny.
Jesus. My life really was flashing before my eyes. Well, pieces of it, anyway.
Ned hadn’t worried me like this. Okay, so he did shoot me, but he was a lousy shot and just grazed me. Riley was a cop. He was trained in this shit.
"Annie, listen to me." Shaw’s voice was barely a whisper. "When I say so, run to your right. You’ll meet up with the road. Just keep going down the hill."
I didn’t have time to think. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shaw bend down, pull something out from under his pant leg.
"Run, Annie," he hissed, and the gunshot bellowed through my ears, deafening me as I did as Shaw said: I ran to the right, another sh
ot and then another echoing across the ridge.
We were closer to the entrance of the park than I’d thought. I stumbled through the trees and hit pavement just as a car swerved to miss me, its tires screeching as it skidded across the road. My sneakers betrayed me and I slipped, rolling on my shoulders until I came to a stop just inches from the car.
Tom stared down at me. "Who’s shooting?"
I pointed up the hill. "Riley. He shot at us. Shaw has a gun, too. But he’s the good guy." I could barely spit out the words; I’d managed to land on my face, the side where Ned had hit me, and now every part of me was throbbing.
A cruiser came up behind Tom’s Impala, but he was already gone. I told the two uniforms what was going on, and I was alone again. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, leaning against the back bumper of the Impala, the heat of the tailpipe searing my skin without even touching it. I couldn’t move.
I heard another shot ring out somewhere above me, but I couldn’t even lift my head in its direction. My hair was still damp from the rain; my clothes were stuck to my skin with sweat, my sneakers squishy. I felt like someone had put me in the washing machine and then hung me out to dry.
Shaw’s words filled my head: Ralph, coming back to purge himself of his sins and getting involved in something worse than before. He couldn’t stay away from trouble; it was too alluring. More alluring than that dream of writing for the Times. More alluring than me.
Ned had made everything even easier, even if he didn’t realize it at the time. He introduced him to Felicia, who introduced him to Ashley, who introduced him to Michael Jackson, and that’s where he found the drugs for Riley. Jesus. Riley. There was a story there, and I thought about Dick Whitfield. Maybe Marty would let me on it, at least a little. We didn’t have to tell Charlie Simmons. Did we?
And then I knew. Riley had killed Ashley. I flashed back to last night, when Vinny and I passed the cruiser at the City Point condo complex. The cop had kept his head turned, so I hadn’t been able to make out who it was.
I had spoken to her before that. Maybe she knew him and told him she’d spoken to me. I had a hard time believing she’d known he was a cop, but maybe she did. Either way, I knew he’d killed her. Felicia had gone into hiding. If she’d been there, she probably would be dead, too. Instead, she ran first to Jack Hammer, but Vinny convinced her that Jack was involved, so she then ran to Ned, who wasn’t much better, but the only thing he was really covering up was the fact that he’d helped Ralph stalk me.
I heard the rustling first, then saw movement in the woods, the flashlights bobbing. As they approached, Riley was handcuffed, walking. My eyes skirted around, looking for Shaw, and spotted him with Tom, behind the rest of them. Shaw had saved my life. Like he claimed Ralph had saved his.
Eye for an eye, maybe?
No. I had to admit that I was wrong about Shaw. He had tried to warn me after all.
Tom leaned down and gently took my arm, pulling me up. His face was close, his expression concerned. "Are you okay?"
I nodded. "Sure. Million fucking bucks." My jaw was clenched, and I thought I’d keel over from the pain from just those few words.
Another vehicle arrived, but I wasn’t paying attention as I watched Riley get pushed around by his pals. You get what you deserve, I thought grimly. I knew what it was like to be in bed with Ralph Seymour; now Riley knew, too. It wasn’t the best place to be.
I was so entranced by the scene before me that I didn’t hear him coming up behind me until his hand circled my waist, a familiar hand that pulled me into his chest. I laid the good side of my face on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. I closed my eyes and melted into him.
"I love you, too," I said softly into Vinny’s ear.
Chapter 47
Jack Hammer was eating it up. I sat next to his hospital bed, my notebook in my hand, but I wasn’t taking notes; it was a sort of comfort thing for me. Jack was grinning at the nurse, a gray-haired woman older than my mother who fussed over him like he was goddamn George Clooney or something.
"Thank you so much, Wilma," Jack said, his eyes twinkling. "And can I get some fresh ice water?"
Wilma patted his shoulder, careful not to disturb the bandages that covered it, took the plastic pitcher off the tray table, and waddled out of the room with what she probably thought was an enticing smile.
I slapped him on the leg when she was gone. "You should be ashamed of yourself," I scolded.
He chuckled. He shouldn’t be in such a good mood. He wasn’t totally off the hook. A cop stood sentry outside the door. Jack had admitted he’d seen Felicia put something in Ralph’s martini at the Rouge Lounge, but he didn’t say anything. When I told him how Ralph had died—from the Viagra overdose—he knew what had gone down. But he’d stayed mum.
Felicia had gotten the Viagra from Ned. I remembered not seeing any in Ralph’s medicine chest, even though there were plenty of other drugs.
Felicia had slept with Ned before she got involved with Ralph, so she knew Ned had the Viagra. Riley wanted Felicia to give him the overdose, threatened to tell the cops about her involvement with the gun scheme. He told her if she tried to tell them about him, they wouldn’t believe her. He was one of them. He knew Ralph was going to roll over on him, and he couldn’t take that risk. Felicia was smart, though. She did what he asked, but then decided she needed to disappear, just in case. It saved her life. Not that her life was going to be worth much now.
I picked up my mechanical pencil, poised it above the notebook. "So Felicia shot you after she got you in the Jeep?"
Jack snorted. "She says it was an accident."
"When did you catch Ned watching me?"
"After I left you at your mother’s house. He had a camera; he’d been taking pictures of both of us walking." >
The pictures at Ralph’s weren’t the only ones. Tom found pictures at Ned’s, even more.
Speak of the devil, Tom stuck his head in the doorway, cocking it at me. "Come here." He gave Jack a short nod before disappearing.
I got up slowly. My leg was wrapped up where the bullet had grazed it, and a large bandage covered up the scrape I’d gotten when I’d fallen on my face. I was told there was nothing to be done for my jaw except muscle relaxers—nothing was broken—and it could take weeks before I could eat anything but soft food.
I’d spent the night at the hospital "for observation," but I stopped into Jack’s room while I was waiting for Vinny to pick me up, to make sure he was okay.
"One more question," I said. "How did you know the cops would show up at Ralph’s that night?"
"I didn’t think they’d show up so quickly. I’d called the feds about the guns. Anonymously. Told them what they’d find."
"You said you were there to get something."
"You."
"What?"
"I had to get you out of there."
"You followed me there."
"I saw you leave the restaurant, which way you were headed, had a hunch you might end up on Arch Street." He grinned. "You’re very predictable. Anyway, I wanted you out of there before the feds showed."
"Gee, thanks," I said. "So Shaw was right—you weren’t in on the straw purchases?"
"Not my scene."
No shit. I hobbled past his bed toward the door.
"I hope you’re coming back." Jack winked.
"Don’t think we’ve got some sort of goddamn bond now just because we both got shot," I grumbled through my clenched jaw.
"I can see why that private dick likes you so much. You’re feisty."
I smirked, trying not to smile. I tell Vinny I love him and suddenly I’m a soft touch for male strippers.
Tom was leaning against the nurses’ station, smiling in a way I recognized at a good-looking nurse with fiery red hair and bright blue eyes that twinkled back at him. He didn’t see me as he spoke softly to her, but she spotted me and took a step back, lifting her chin in my direction. Her name tag read EILEEN, and I nodded at her. "Hey," I sa
id.
Tom slipped on his "official" face, but not before the flush disappeared. I wanted to tell him it was okay; hell, he’d seen me with Vinny—I didn’t care if he dated anyone. But because we’d never been particularly good with expressing our feelings in any way except the bedroom, I didn’t say anything.
"What’s up?" I asked.
"We got those ballistics tests back."
I struggled with the desire to open my notebook, which I still held loosely by my side. "Yeah?"
"Got something to tell me?"
"My lawyer’s not here."
"Do you need her?"
"So I went to the firing range. I practiced shooting. I didn’t empty the magazine and left six bullets in it because I got bored. What did you think?" I cocked my head and stared at him.
Eileen was openly listening to us. If she was interested in Tom, then she was going to have to deal with me and Tom, too. Just like Vinny had to.
"Why did you let me find the gun in your car?"
I chuckled. "Jesus, Tom, I didn’t let you find anything. How the hell was I supposed to know you were going to reach under the goddamn seat? The flip-flops were on the floor."
"And one of them was stuck under the seat."
Eileen snorted, and we both looked at her at the same time.
"What is it with you two?" she asked, but the gleam in her eye told us she was cool with it. I liked her. Tom did, too, from the way he flushed again.
"Riley is sitting in a lot of shit," Tom said, taking my arm and turning me away from the nurses’ station—but not before I caught the wink he gave Eileen.
"He didn’t shoot at Ralph with a registered gun, did he?"
"He shot at Ralph with Ralph’s gun. One he bought a week ago in Middlefield."
I frowned. "How do you know it was Riley?"
"We found the gun in his apartment. Arrogant asshole thought he’d get away with it." Tom hung his head. "He was a good cop."
Shot Girl Page 27
