“I understand what you’ve been through, Maggie,” Stone said. “I know you want revenge on Stuart Feldman.” He tried to keep his voice calm. “But not this way. If you stop now, I’ll—I’ll try to help you.”
Maggie’s eyes grew bright, and for a split second Stone thought he had her. Then, “Hey, Dusty, what do you think? An officer of the court says he’ll help us get justice. I reckon maybe we should just give up.”
Stone glanced at Dusty. His lips were glued into a grim line, as if he was struggling not to say something. Stone looked into Champlain’s eyes. His heart sank. She had nothing more to lose.
Then everything happened at once. A shattering noise came from the bedroom. Dusty spun around and fired. Stone saw the orange flash of the muzzle, heard the boom of the shotgun. Dusty twisted around, a crimson flower blossoming on his chest and crumpled to the floor. Filling the space he had occupied was Matt, a Smith and Wesson leveled at Champlain.
She watched her son fall. Still clutching the syringe, she sank down on the couch beside Ricki. Stone’s jaw went slack. Where had Matt come from? How did he get through the window? Before he could think about it, Matt brandished the Smith and Wesson.
“Get away from her,” he shouted to Champlain. “Now.”
Champlain didn’t move, but a muscle in her jaw twitched. She held the syringe up.
***
Matt’s hands curled around the handle of the Forty-five. An itch scraped across the back of his throat. He could take her out, but she had the poison. They were playing a lethal game of chicken.
***
A small smile cracked Champlain’s mouth, and she tossed the Beretta down. “Take the gun. It’s yours anyway, isn’t it?”
“Now the syringe.”
“Sure I will.” Stone saw her fingers twitch. It was only a ghost of a move, but from his angle he could tell Matt didn’t see it.
He dove toward Champlain. As he did, she plunged the syringe into Ricki’s thigh. Stone wrestled her onto the floor, but the syringe remained lodged in Ricki’s leg. A blood-curdling scream cut through the air.
“Noooo!”
Stone pushed Champlain away from him and started rolling away from her on the floor but didn’t get very far. Matt fired. Champlain fell to the floor almost on top of Stone. For an instant Stone didn’t know if the bullet had caught him or her. As he rolled over he saw splashes of color spinning around him, smelled the bite of cordite. He hit the edge of a heavy chair and stopped. Champlain was beside him, writhing and gasping for breath.
Another blast sounded. The struggling stopped. His breath wheezed in his chest. Matt hurried over to the couch where Ricki lay.
Stone raised himself up. Champlain’s body was on the floor. The first bullet had caught her in her throat. Blood still spurted from it. The other shots went in her back, probably puncturing her lungs.
Like a video that’s been taken off pause, activity resumed. Matt lunged at Ricki, pulled out the syringe, and flung it across the floor. Gathering her in his arms, he scooped her off the couch and staggered through the door of the apartment. The men behind Stone separated, allowing him through.
Stone was about to stand when he felt something wet soaking his pants. Some of the liquid had trickled across the floor. Horror gripped him. The poison. An extra vial must have been in Dusty’s backpack when he fell. Now it was pooling on the floor. Stone scrambled up, wondering whether he had traded Champlain’s quick death for a long painful one of his own.
“Everyone evacuate. Now, goddammit!”
Skirting the liquid, men sprinted to the exits, crashed through the door, and clattered down the fire escape. Stone stumbled after them. As he lurched through the door, he turned for a last look. Dusty lay on the floor in a puddle of blood. His mother lay on her side in another pool of blood, unseeing eyes on her son.
Chapter Fifty-five
It was mid morning before they told Matt he could see Ricki. Sipping water through a straw, she looked pasty, her eyes enormous. But she was alive. When she saw him, she set the glass down. Light came into her eyes.
“Thank God.” Matt knelt by her bed.
“It didn’t work. The doctors said there was no poison in the syringe.”
“There wasn’t.”
“What happened?”
“We don’t know. We’re still piecing it together, but we think Dusty substituted something harmless for the toxin.”
“It was a miracle.” She looked at him with wonder. “You saved my life.”
Matt shook his head. “If I had come into your house in Lake Forest, none of this would have happened.”
“It was my fault. I drove you out.”
“No. It was —”
“Stop.” She grasped his hand. “We can sit here forever saying how sorry and guilty we feel, or we can put it aside and go on.”
He smoothed the hair on her forehead. She was like one of those inflatable dummies that pops up after a blow, no matter how harsh. “Stone will be here to question you soon.”
She nodded. “I don’t remember much, and I have a monstrous headache.”
“Probably from the chloroform.”
“Is that what it was?” She said disinterestedly. “The doctor says I’ll be fine in a day or two.” She smiled brightly. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about good things. Like us.”
Matt didn’t reply.
Ricki repeated herself. “Like us.”
He didn’t say anything.
Her smile faded. “There still is an us, isn’t there?”
Matt swallowed. “There—there can’t be right now.”
“I don’t think I like the way this conversation is going.” Her eyes searched his face. “Is it Georgia?”
Matt looked past her, above her, then below her. “It’s because of us—no, not us, me—that she smashed into that barrier.”
Her voice spiked. “How do you figure that?”
“I treated her badly. Especially at the end.”
“But you didn’t love her,” she said crisply, as if that explained everything.
“But I need to make amends. If she lives.”
She was quiet for a moment. “You know, there’s a time when duty ends, Matt. When you’re allowed to find some happiness for yourself. Follow your heart. Choose me. Choose us.”
He looked over. He had to settle his obligation first. So did she. She just didn’t know it.
“So, in saving her, you destroy us.” Her voice was sharp. “Great trade off.”
He reached for her other hand, but she withdrew them both and covered her face. When she dropped them, her face was a mask of fury.
“Your capacity for self-pity and sacrifice is remarkable.”
He recoiled.
“Tell me, does your shiksa go for the Bible stuff too?”
“Ricki —”
“You don’t know who or what you want. And you’re so wracked with guilt about it that you’ll deny yourself— and us—a chance for happiness.”
He bit the inside of his mouth. Perhaps, in some way, he wanted her to rant. It would make what was coming easier. “Ricki, Georgia’s not the only reason we can’t stay together.”
“What is it?” Her face clouded with suspicion. “What now?”
“It’s Laban.”
“What in God’s name are you talking about?”
She was forcing him to articulate it, as if speaking the words was the only way to sever the cord that bound them. “If I condone him, I condone the evil. I can’t do that. Even for you.”
He had put her in an impossible position. To agree with him was to renounce her father; to argue with him was to excuse her father’s crimes.
And she knew it. She shrank into herself; the bed seemed to grow enormous. When she looked up, her face was desperate.
“I am not my father, Matt. I’ll talk to him. Make him see what he did. We’ll start over.”
An ache started in the back of his throat.
“Don’t tell me there�
��s nothing I can do. Don’t.”
But he knew there was nothing she could buy, sell, or negotiate this time.
She fell back against the pillow, her eyes welling up. “Just don’t go—yet.” She whispered.
He sat by her bed while she cried. When she quieted, he backed out of the room.
Chapter Fifty-six
Stone took the Drive down to the hospital the next morning. It had snowed six inches overnight, but the roads were clear and a bright sun made the snowdrifts glitter. As he passed Oak Street beach, he saw sheets of ice extending fifty yards from shore.
He found Matt outside the ICU.
“I came down to say I was wrong.” Stone began.
Matt held up a hand. “You don’t have to —”
“Yeah, I do.” He cut him off. “I didn’t trust you. I thought you’d lost it.”
“You had your reasons.”
“I should have talked to you.”
“I didn’t make it easy.”
“Let me finish.” Stone cleared his throat. “You were the one that came through for us the other night— “
Matt shook his head. “It was a team effort.”
Stone went on. “The State Police are at the apartment. They brought in a hazmat team. No one’s allowed within three blocks. We can’t even move the bodies. Meanwhile, Vaughan is working on finding the Family.”
Matt nodded. “How’s Nelson?”
Stone frowned. “She’s got a hole in her the size of California. But she’s hanging on.”
“She was—is—a good officer.” He looked down. “How did she end up with Brewster’s men?”
“The radios were fucked up. Nelson went to tell Brewster to go on up. She never came back.”
Matt frowned. “What about the poison?”
“There wasn’t any.”
“What happened?”
“Haz Mat found another unopened vial in Dusty’s backpack. The lab ran a test. It was saline.”
“He switched them,” Matt said. “He sabotaged his mother.”
“I guess Mira was right. She said he wasn’t like the others.”
“But how did Champlain let him get away with it?”
“Who knows? Dusty was her son. Parents ignore all sorts of signs in their kids.”
Matt was quiet for a moment. “Why didn’t Romano remember her?”
“It had been twenty years. She looked different,” Stone said. “Romano only saw her once or twice, remember.”
“She was there, right in front of me, returning the tape. I should have known, dammit. I let her slip through my fingers.”
“Anyone would have.” Stone gestured toward the ICU. “How’s Georgia?”
“Stable.”
“That’s great.”
“She had it, John. Ricin. She found it on the Internet weeks ago. She called me down at the station to tell me about it.” His face crumpled. “I never called her back.”
Stone kept his mouth shut.
“Ricki and I had a fight. I followed her back to Lake Forest, but didn’t go in. That’s how they got her.”
Stone shifted. What more could he say? Matt’s grief and guilt had already scraped him raw. He wouldn’t add to his friend’s misery. “So what are your plans?”
Matt didn’t answer for a minute. “I’ll hang out here. Until I know Georgia’s going to make it. Then I’ll be there for her. If she wants me.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Matt looked around the corridor, as if the answer was drifting in the air. “I don’t know.”
Stone cleared his throat. “Don’t do anything hasty, okay? You’re a good cop, Matt.”
Matt didn’t answer.
Stone hesitated. “Well, I’d better head back. Start the paperwork. Don’t worry. Brewster and I can handle it.”
Matt nodded.
Stone made his way to the elevators. The signal chimed. The doors opened. He stepped in. As the doors closed, he glimpsed Matt at the end of the hall, his lips moving in prayer. Stone wondered whether anyone was listening. For his friend’s sake, he hoped so.
THE END
MORE ABOUT LIBBY
http://libbyhellmann.com
THE ELLIE FOREMAN SERIES
“Libby Fischer Hellmann has already joined an elite club: Chicago mystery writers who not only inhabit the environment but also give it a unique flavor… her series continues in fine style… (Ellie)… lights up the page with courage and energy.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Not only has Hellmann created a compelling group of believable characters, but the mystery she places them in is likewise plausible and engrossing. Highly recommended, even if you don’t live in Illinois.”
—David Montgomery, Chicago Sun-Times
“Hellmann owes a debt to fellow Chicagoans Sara Paretsky (complex plotting) and Barbara D’Amato (excellent research)—but she’s the brash young thing making this formula new again. I can’t wait for the next book!”
—Robin Agnew, Aunt Agatha’s
“Hellmann has surpassed herself. Well-crafted, intense and exciting, right up to the last page… a must read!”
—Laurel Johnson, Midwest Book Review
“A masterful blend of politics, history, and suspense… sharp humor and vivid language… Ellie is an engaging amateur sleuth.”
—Publishers Weekly, November 4, 2002
“Ellie is a particularly believable protagonist… she’s a pleasure to spend time with.”
—Reviewing the Evidence
“Libby Fischer Hellmann has indisputably crossed the line into the realm of great crime fiction writers.”
—Crimespree Magazine
Buy An Eye For Murder:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Ellie-Foreman-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B0015ACFCK
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eye-for-murder-libby-fischer-hellmann/1100407509
Buy A Picture of Guilt:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Picture-Guilt-Foreman-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B003E48A4M
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/picture-of-guilt-libby-fischer-hellmann/1100407511
Buy An Image of Death:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Image-Death-Foreman-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B003X27PUK
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/image-of-death-libby-fischer-hellmann/1100407510
Buy A Shot to Die For:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Shot-Ellie-Foreman-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B003F76XAQ
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shot-to-die-for-libby-fischer-hellmann/1102011113
THE GEORGIA DAVIS SERIES
“Hellmann brings to life the reality of hazing and bullying among teenage girls in a story with enough twists and turns to keep you reading to the end. Highly recommended.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“Just what’s needed in a mystery… Depth of characterization sets this new entry apart from a crowded field.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Libby Hellmann can get into the mind of a character, whether the character is a mentally ill man or a teenage girl. PI Georgia Davis, the no-nonsense heart of this tale… finds a darkness I didn’t see coming. This is good stuff, very good stuff.”
—Stuart M. Kaminsky, Grand Master, Mystery Writers of America
“There’s a new no-nonsense female private Detective in town: Georgia Davis, a former cop who is tough and smart enough to give even the legendary V.I. Warshawski a run for her money… Hellmann knows how to distill the essence of a character in a few unadorned but dead-right sentences.”
—Dick Adler, Chicago Tribune
“Hellmann’s done her homework here and it shows: the writing is assured, the voices authentic, and the understanding both of criminal investigations and relationships among cops, lawyers and prosecutors come to life with great urgency. Davis’ arrival on the mean streets is long overdue.”
—Sara Paretsky, author of the V.I. Warshawski series
Buy Easy Innocence:
&
nbsp; Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Easy-Innocence-ebook/dp/B001UE8J4Y
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/easy-innocence-libby-fischer-hellmann/1020032643
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/8485
Buy Doubleback:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Doubleback-ebook/dp/B002SG7OWG
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/doubleback-libby-fischer-hellmann/1020032642
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/8482
SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE
“A tremendous thriller, sweeping but intimate, elegiac but urgent, subtle but intense… this story really does set the night on fire.”
—Lee Child
“Superior… Passion, pain, and protests emerge in vivid detail.”
—Chicago Tribune
“Set the Night on Fire is a compelling story of love, truth and redemption. This will be a break-out novel for this talented writer. Highly recommended.”
—Sheldon Siegel, New York Times best-selling author of Perfect Alibi
“A top-rate standalone thriller… A jazzy fusion of past and present, Hellman’s insightful, politically charged whodunit explores a fascinating period in American history.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Top Pick! Electric! A marvelous novel.”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews
Buy Set the Night on Fire:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Set-Night-Fire-ebook/dp/B004C43IFY
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/set-the-night-on-fire-libby-fischer-hellmann/1024630810
Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/29940
NICE GIRL DOES NOIR, Vol. 1 and 2
“I don’t usually like to read short stories, but these are terrific! My highest recommendation here.”
—Molly Weston, Meritorious Mysteries
“[A] great place to get acquainted with Hellmann’s talent… not only universal but has greater depth and emotional value. Aspiring short-story writers would do well to pay attention.”
—Naomi Johnson, The Drowning Machine
Buy Nice Girl Does Noir Vol. 1:
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Nice-Girl-Does-Noir-ebook/dp/B003NE6E32
Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/nice-girl-does-noir-vol-1-libby-fischer-hellmann/1022594657
GD00 - ToxiCity Page 27
