Night Thunder

by Jill Gregory

  “You brought a cop?” Anger whistled through Ricky’s low, strained voice.

  “He’s a friend first, and a cop second,” she said quickly, praying like hell it was true. “Come on, Ricky, sit down. We have to talk.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “He’s not going to arrest you,” she said, slipping into her own seat as Ricky sank down, scowling, on a chair. “He and I have a deal. He’s trying to protect me and to help you. Ricky, I need you to tell me, where did you get that diamond?”

  “Shit, Josy. Keep your voice down. So you unwrapped it, huh? And then you told him about it?” He glowered at her, and Ty leaned forward, a hard light entering his eyes.

  “She told me enough to know you’re in way too deep to keep running.”

  “I can run as long as I need to, Sheriff.” Ricky’s tone was as hostile as Ty’s.

  “Maybe. But you’d damn well better give Josy an explanation for why the hell you involved her in something like this.”

  “You think I wanted to involve her?” Ricky snapped. “It was supposed to go down a completely different way.”

  “And Archie wasn’t supposed to die, either, was he?” Ty said.

  Ricky’s skin turned a little grayer. “What’d you do, blab the whole thing to him? Jesus, I thought I could trust you.”

  He shook his head at her and Josy felt herself flushing. But for the first time, anger burst through her.

  “Ricky, some goon nearly killed me last night. I’ve been involved in a murder—I watched a man die while I was standing right next to him—” Her voice broke, but she recovered it after a moment and continued more strongly. “I’ve had to hide out for my life, leave my job, my friends—”

  “Well, you made some new ones, didn’t you?”

  She stared at him. “What’s happened to you? You’re different.”

  His laugh was so jaded, so full of cynicism, it made her shiver. “Life happened to me, Jo-Jo. I did my job and I tried to get the bad guys, and look what happened. They set me up. And you know why they were able to get away with it? Because another cop—a precinct captain, some asshole named Becker—was in the back pocket of the man calling the shots.”

  “All the more reason you need to go back. Ty and I will help you. There has to be some evidence to—”

  “Not anymore—Becker got rid of it first thing.”

  “If you’re telling the truth, there’s other ways of verifying it. Running away isn’t the answer.”

  “Yeah? I didn’t think so either, until I realized that these guys are a lot bigger than little old me. And they have a lot of money to throw around, a lot of people working for them. Sometimes you gotta fight, kid, and sometimes you gotta run.”

  “And the diamond?” Josy asked quietly. “What was that for? To help you run?”

  “Yeah. Insurance. If I couldn’t prove my case and I was going down, I needed enough money to get out of the country and live wherever the hell I wanted—so long as it was someplace with no extradition.” He shot Ty an ice-cold frown. “I’ve got a buyer lined up, ready to pay me a fortune once I deliver the diamond. Good thing, too, because my case is a lost cause. I don’t know how many people Tate and Becker paid off, but the evidence I had is long gone, and now it’s my word against theirs. You tell me, who’s a judge going to believe?”

  “Internal investigations is checking it out,” Josy protested. “Shouldn’t you wait and give them a chance to—”

  “Josy, I wanted to wait. I wasn’t planning to run at first, but then . . . oh, hell. I can’t explain it all now. Just give me the diamond and this will all be over.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Ty’s gaze bored into Ricky. His voice was pure flint. “Your pals found Josy. She’s in danger until you turn yourself in, until they know for certain they can’t get the diamond back.”

  “Once I’m gone—with the diamond—they’ll leave her alone,” Ricky snapped.

  “Who’d you steal it from? Caventini? Or Tate?” Ty prodded.

  Ricky studied the other man a moment, as if evaluating his determination, then apparently realized he wasn’t about to be put off. He shrugged.

  “From Tate. He’s the one pulling the strings. He’s as bad as Caventini, maybe worse. And Becker is zipped up tight in Tate’s thousand-dollar Gucci pocket. Tate’s a fanatic collector—he’s got a treasure room in that Southampton mansion of his that you wouldn’t believe. It’s got a secret door, security cameras, the works. There’s art in there, jewelry, antique weapons, you name it. All of it is rare and some of it’s priceless. And most of it’s stolen.”

  “Including this diamond?” Josy whispered.

  Ricky nodded. “He stole it from a Peruvian drug dealer who made a fortune and hired someone else to steal it from a legitimate private collector. For some of these guys, the millions, the houses, the cars aren’t enough— they want more possessions, they want what no one else in the world has, things that no one else can ever touch or even see. Tate is like that. I stumbled onto him during my investigation into Caventini and started connecting some dots. But as soon as his name turned up in one of my reports to my contact—bingo. Everything went haywire.”

  Ricky shifted restlessly in his chair, like a man unaccustomed to staying in one spot too long. He glanced over his shoulder at the doorway before continuing. “Caventini tried to have me killed, and I knew the gig was up, but when I turned over my evidence and wanted protection, Becker suddenly claimed I’d gone over to the other side. They framed me but good, Josy.”

  Hunching over the table, Ricky spoke even faster. “I needed a backup plan in case I couldn’t prove my innocence. And that included the means to get out of the country, somewhere none of them could find me. To make that happen, I needed the diamond.”

  “Not to mention that stealing the rock was going to be a poke in the eye to Tate,” Ty remarked. “Am I right?”

  “Damn straight.” Ricky smacked his fist softly on the table, revealing bruised knuckles. “And I had it planned perfectly. I had no problem bypassing their security system all to hell, but there was one little hitch. Tate and his wife and kids were supposed to be in their villa in Cancún for a whole month when I took the diamond. I figured by the time he came back and found out it was missing, I’d either have hit on a way to prove I’d been set up, or I’d be long gone.” His eyes shone dark as a wolf’s in the dim light of the saloon.

  “But the bastard came back early—one of his kids got sick and they wanted him checked out in the States. He found out only five days after I took it that the diamond was gone and it didn’t take him longer than a New York minute to figure out who was responsible.”

  “So this guy who’s after Josy works for Tate?”

  “Describe him to me.” Ricky turned to Josy.

  “He’s huge—six foot two or three, shaved head, sharp features, eyes like an arctic lake. He likes knives—”

  “Dolph,” Ricky interrupted her. “He’s Tate’s number one guy. Shit, did he hurt you?” He peered at her intently all of a sudden, and for a moment, Josy saw the old Ricky there—the Ricky who had looked out for her all those years ago.

  “Not too badly,” she mumbled, aware that her hair hid the scratch Dolph had put on her ear.

  “But he’d have done a lot worse if not for Ty.” Her hands were clenched, her nails digging into her palms. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Archie.”

  “Yeah. Archie.” Ricky rubbed his neck. “Don’t you think I feel bad too?”

  “How was he involved in all this?” Ty asked, his gaze still trained on the other man’s beat-up face.

  “He used to be an informant of mine.” Ricky’s lips twisted. “He was this decent kid who’d been hanging with creeps. Hanging on the sidelines kind of stuff. After he started snitching for me, I tried steering him in another direction. He got a job at a community center, then decided to take some paramedic classes—you know the drill. The kid was actually turning his life around. When I found out Tate h
ad come back early and knew the diamond was gone, I knew I needed to get it out of your hands fast, Josy. I was too far away to get it myself, but I set up the meet with Archie at his uncle’s place so you’d at least be out of it. I never dreamed they’d be on to you so soon. These guys . . .”

  He shook his head. “They’ve got too much to lose— they don’t fool around.”

  “Then it’s time you stopped doing just that,” Ty said curtly.

  “You mean turn myself in? I’d be dead in forty-eight hours. Becker’s men caught up to me once—after Josy ran. How do you think I got these bruises? They wanted Josy—and the diamond. After they worked me over for a while I gave them a false lead, and while they were checking it out, I managed to get away. Next time, Barclay, I won’t be that lucky. So next time . . . it ain’t gonna happen. I’m outta here.”

  Ricky eyed the duffel bag. “Is it in there, or is that a decoy?”

  “It’s there,” Josy replied, but as he reached for the bag, she touched his arm. “Ricky, you said before there’s a time to fight and a time to run. So think about this again— it really is your time to fight. You have me on your side— and Ty.”

  “Josy, come on. A hick sheriff from Nowhere Creek?”

  She glared at him, but Ty looked unperturbed.

  “He happens to be a former Philadelphia police detective—who’s been decorated—and he has friends at the NYPD. If you go back with me—with us—if you let us call in the authorities, we’ll make sure you get a fair hearing. If all three of us go in together and tell everything we know, surely someone will listen. Every officer in internal affairs can’t be under Becker’s thumb—”

  “Maybe you’re willing to take that chance but I’m not!”

  Suddenly, even as he spoke the words, Ricky made a grab for the duffel, but Ty moved faster, jerking it out of his reach. In that instant, the doors to the saloon burst open and a dark-complexioned man with long wiry black hair and a face like a ferret crashed inside, a second man with crew-cut red hair close behind him. Both carried guns, and the moment they spotted Josy, Ty, and Ricky across the room, they started shooting.

  Ty was already dragging Josy down below the table before Ricky yelled, “Get down!”

  Shots exploded through the saloon. Ty knocked the table onto its side and ducked down behind it along with Josy, drawing his revolver and returning fire. Ricky was shooting too, as the other men dove for the floor and rolled, while the waitress, the kid at the pool table, and the paunchy cowboy all scrambled behind the bar.

  Josy’s heart was in her throat as she squatted on the floor with Ty, the duffel bag in front of her. The two men had taken cover behind a bigger, rectangular table that they’d shoved onto its side, and somehow Ricky had edged into the alcove that led to the exit door. There was now a cautious lull in the shooting as everyone held his position and looked for an opening.

  “Give us the diamond, Sabatini, and we’ll let you go,” the ferret-faced man shouted.

  “Like hell you will,” Ricky yelled back.

  Ty wondered how many of Tate’s men were closing in on Wheatland this very minute, headed to this very bar. He had to get Josy out of here and as far away from the saloon as he could.

  “I’ll draw their fire,” he instructed softly, his tone so low only Josy and Ricky could hear. “When I do, Josy, I want you to get back there with Ricky and get the hell out of here. Sabatini, what are you driving?”

  “A red Jeep.”

  “If I’m not out there in one minute, take Josy and head back to Thunder Creek. I’ll call ahead and have the state troopers meet you on the interstate. Ready?”

  “No, you can’t do this, Ty, it’s too dangerous.” Her face was whiter than chalk. “I won’t go without you. I’ll stay here and we’ll call the troopers—”

  “I’ll be right behind you, baby,” he said swiftly. “Soon as I nail these guys. Now go.”

  He leaped from behind the table and sprinted, dropped, and rolled in a blur as rapid-fire shots rang out.

  Josy dodged back into the alcove with Ricky, her blood pounding in her ears. But instead of dodging outside in those precious seconds Ty had bought them, Ricky unexpectedly lunged back toward the table and scooped the duffel bag from the floor, then he shoved Josy out the exit door into the cloudy afternoon light.

  She glanced back at the last instant and had a final glimpse of Ty, sprinting behind the jukebox, drawing more fire.

  “Run!” Ricky ordered, seizing her arm as he sprinted toward the car, dragging her with him. But they never made it that far. As they raced toward the parking lot at the front of the saloon, they both froze.

  A helicopter was zooming toward the field, and a deafening clamor enveloped them. The copter was landing, Josy realized in shock, but as she and Ricky spun toward his Jeep, they were confronted by a motorcycle roaring up the road toward them.

  Ricky fired at the driver as the din from the helicopter blasted across the field. But his shot missed and the driver braked behind the Jeep. He jumped off the bike, taking cover, a Luger materializing in his hand.

  “Drop your weapon, Sabatini,” he yelled above the din. “Or I’ll shoot the woman.”

  Behind them the helicopter had set down on the field, and as the motor shut off and the noise died away, she heard another voice, rusty as old nails.

  “You heard him. Put your weapon down now.”

  The pilot of the helicopter, a stocky blond man with sideburns, ran out at a crouch from beneath the spinning blades, an automatic rifle slung across his shoulder.

  And suddenly in the complete and utter silence that filled the parking lot, Josy spotted the other car—the car that hadn’t been there before, the big black Explorer that would always be in her nightmares.

  It was parked right outside the doors of the saloon and she realized in horror that the men shooting at Ty inside had come here with Dolph. Dolph had waited in the parking lot, in case they ran, hoping they’d run . . .

  Her knees wobbled as he slid out of his car and smiled at her.

  “So,” he said in a pleasant tone that sent needles of terror ripping down her spine. “Josephine Warner, we meet again.”

  Chapter 26

  “YOU DIDN’T THINK I’D FORGET YOU QUITE SO easily, did you?”

  Dolph’s smile deepened as he saw the terror flash through Josy’s eyes. Realizing this, she fought back the fear. She forced herself to ignore her racing heart and the tightness in her chest, and spoke in a voice that sounded every bit as even as his.

  “If you touch me again, I’ll make you sorry.”

  The motorcycle guy laughed and came out from behind the Jeep, his gun still aimed and ready. “Oooh, Dolph, you scared yet?”

  “Shaking in my boots.” Dolph’s eyes were still riveted on her face. They held a gleam that made her stomach turn over.

  The stocky blond man near the helicopter had started walking forward with slow, easy strides, the automatic rifle trained on Josy.

  “She doesn’t have anything to do with this anymore,” Ricky said roughly. “Now it’s between you three and me.”

  “Think so? Why don’t you hand over the merchandise you stole,” the stocky man suggested. “And then we’ll see.”

  Instead Ricky swerved, pointing his gun at Dolph. Josy didn’t know how his arm could be so steady.

  “It’s not going to work that way, Len,” Ricky said. “First you let her go. She drives away in my car—I stay and turn over the diamond.”

  “What’s to stop me from shooting you right now and taking the diamond—and her?” The stocky guy—Len— demanded. The smug smile on his face reminded Josy of a college fraternity jock playing a prank, except that there was something chilling and off in his searing blue eyes.

  “This baby right here.” Ricky kept his gun trained on Dolph. The motorcycle guy was edging closer. “Hold it right there, Armstrong, or I shoot him,” Ricky barked.

  Armstrong paused.

  “Dolph’s top dog here. If you shoot
me, he’ll die too,” Ricky promised. “I’ll take him out before I fall.”

  “Yeah? And what’s to stop me from shooting the bitch?” Len demanded, keeping the gun level with her chest.

  “Same thing. I take out your leader. Tate wouldn’t like that. Dolph’s his number one guy.” Ricky hadn’t taken his eyes off the big man with the shaved head. “Isn’t that right, Dolph? Or are you ready to die?”

  “Give me the diamond and the girl, and you can go,” Dolph said softly.

  “Not going to happen.” Ricky stared him down.

  Her stomach clenching, Josy flicked a glance at the saloon. What was going on in there? She hadn’t heard gunfire in the last minute or two. She prayed that Ty hadn’t been shot. But he hadn’t come out—and neither had the other men . . .

  “Seems like we’re at an impasse,” Len said. “Except . . . we’re really not. Armstrong?”

  “Yeah?” The motorcycle guy brought the Luger up a few inches, smiling.

  “Kill him,” Len ordered. “Now.”

  Armstrong aimed the gun—at Dolph—and as Josy watched in shock he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 27

  “STAY DOWN!” TY YELLED TO THE PEOPLE crouched with the bartender behind the bar. The bullet in his arm burned like hellfire, but he ignored it, just as he ignored the blood soaking his shirtsleeve, dripping onto the floor.

  “I just called 911,” the waitress shouted back. “You bastards are all fried.”

  Tate’s hit men answered by pumping more shots toward the jukebox. “Come on out,” the ferret-faced man called. “Or we’ll kill all those nice folks behind the bar.”

  “Try it. You’ll be dead if you so much as stick your nose in the air,” Ty said coolly.

  But he felt anything but cool. Josy was out there with Ricky and who knew what the hell they were going to find outside. These two shooters might not have come alone. And he sure as hell didn’t trust Ricky Sabatini—not when the stakes were this high. And not when Ricky found out—

  The roaring whir of a helicopter interrupted his thoughts. Ty swore under his breath. It sounded like the damned copter was landing right on the roof. He had to finish this and get out there to Josy.