Gabriella bowed her head and closed her eyes. "Thank you. If you give me her phone number, I'll call her tomorrow." She turned to her daughter. "Why don't you say goodbye to Ms. Taylor, baby, then change out of those wet clothes," she said softly. "Then we'll have a snack and you can go to bed."
Bella stepped away from her mother and threw her arms around Raine. "Thank you, Ms. Taylor," she whispered.
"I'm glad you called, Bella. You did the smart, brave thing." She pressed a kiss on the girl's head, then stepped back. "I'll see you in school tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay." Bella took a deep, shaky breath and unzipped the hoodie she wore. "I need to give you your jacket, Ms. Taylor."
Raine held up her hand. "You can bring it to school when you're done with it." Her gaze touched the black hoodie, now faded and soft from many washings. "My sister gave me that hoodie. She passed away, but it always makes me feel better to wear it."
Genie would be smiling right now. She'd like that the jacket she'd given Raine was bringing comfort to a girl who was a victim of domestic violence.
"Okay." Bella curled her fingers around the sleeves of the jacket. "Is it okay if I keep it for a few days?"
"As long as you need it," Raine assured her.
Bella finally smiled. "Thanks, Ms. T."
"You're welcome. See you tomorrow."
After Bella ran up the stairs, Raine turned to Gabriella. "If you have a piece of paper and a pen, I'll give you Emma's phone number." She hesitated, then added, "I told Alex Jennings I was bringing Bella here. Not why," she added quickly. "I'm in the middle of a...a situation, and he needed to know where I was going. He knows all the girls on the team. He might stop by to see how she's doing."
To her surprise, Gabriella's cheeks turned pink. "I know Detective Jennings. I've seen him at the matches. It's okay if he stops by."
"Good. That's good." Raine glanced out the front window, but the street was still deserted. "I'm going to let you spend some time with your daughter, Gabriella. You can call me if there's anything you need, okay?"
"Thank you again, Ms. Taylor."
Raine smiled. "Please. I'm Raine."
***
Connor sank onto the steps of the three flat and pulled out his phone. Red and blue lights flashed from both ends of the blocked-off street, and more than a dozen detectives and uniformed officers still swarmed the scene. The crime lab techs combed the block, too, looking for shell casings and other physical evidence.
The final ambulance had finally pulled away, no sirens, no lights. Headed for the morgue. The victims who'd survived the shooting were in the hospital, attended by a couple of detectives hoping to get their statements. The two ambulances holding the other bodies had left a few minutes earlier. The uniformed guys were still canvassing for witnesses. Finally, after more than six hours, he could sit down and call Raine.
The text message icon on his phone said he'd missed three messages. Two missed calls. His gut churning, he stabbed the message icon and read the messages. Two from Raine, one from Jennings.
His hand shaking, he listened to the missed calls.
God damn it all to hell.
He sprang up from the step and punched Raine's number, but it rang and rang as he paced. Finally it went to voice mail. He sent her a text, then shoved his hand through his hair.
She'd had to help Bella. He got it.
But Northrup had gone missing.
After the warrant had come through, Bellstair had gone to Northrup’s house. Not there. Belly was waiting in a squad car, but Connor’s gut told him Northrup wasn't coming back. Somehow, he'd realized they were closing in.
The guy might be running, but he’d go after Raine first. Bastards like that didn’t like to lose. And he’d blame Raine for his fall from grace.
Connor was stuck at this scene for the foreseeable future.
His heart pounding, he punched his sister's number as he headed up the sidewalk again. After what felt like hours, Mia answered. "Hey, Con. What's up?"
"You at the station?"
"Yeah, just off shift."
"Thank God. I need a favor."
"What?"
Right to the point. The ache in his shoulders lessened. "Raine went out tonight because one of her kids needed help. But I can't get hold of her and Northrup's in the wind. I need you to use the GPS on her phone to find out where she is and go there. Stay with her until I can get there."
"Right. What's her number?"
Connor rattled it off, then said, “And Mia? Light 'em up”
“On it. Already figured lights and sirens”
Connor thanked Mia again and hung up.
"Hey, Donovan," one of the uniforms called. "Found someone who recognized the car."
He shoved the phone into his pocket and got back to work.
***
It started to sprinkle again as Raine drove home. Barely enough to require her windshield wipers, but enough to make the road slippery. It forced her to pay attention to her driving instead of the cars behind her.
Where had all these cars come from? She gripped the steering wheel with suddenly cold hands as she glanced in the rear view mirror again. Rain fell harder now. The darkness and the smear of water and road grime on the back window made it impossible to identify anything behind her. The cars were nothing more than a blur of headlights and movement.
She turned two streets before hers, and suddenly there was only blackness behind her. No headlights. Her grip on the steering wheel loosened. Her hand ached, and she flexed her fingers on one hand, then the other.
She didn't want to park her car and walk to her building. Not alone. Not at this time of night. But she didn't have a choice.
The parking place near the front gate had been taken, as she'd expected. There were no other spots on the block. Not the next block, either. Even the 'no parking' spots were taken.
She finally found a space along the curb. Almost three blocks away. Fingers drumming on the steering wheel, she studied the street, the apartments and houses, the entrances to the alleys.
If she were Peter, she'd wait in an alley.
She wished she had a weapon other than her hands and feet. Connor had been right. Hands and feet were useless against a knife. Or a gun.
Rain fell harder as she stepped outside of the van. The door clicked shut, and raindrops drummed on the roof. Rain pelted her scalp and her bare arms like tiny needles. She hunched her shoulders and walked down the middle of the street. Away from the parked cars. Away from the alleys.
As she walked, she watched. Everywhere. Her head never stopped moving. A shadow moved behind a hedge on her left side, and she froze. Gathered herself. As she waited, taking deep, steadying breaths, a tail appeared above the trimmed bushes, moving quickly away from her.
A cat out in the rain. Looking for shelter. Swallowing down the ball that had lodged in her throat, she turned and walked more quickly in the other direction. Suddenly, her foot slipped on the rain-slicked street. She skidded a couple of feet, her arms flailing, and finally regained her balance.
Her heart racing, her breath quickening, she walked a little faster. A spot of oil, opalescent in the light from the streetlamp, glistened on the asphalt in front of her. She avoided it as she continued to scan the quiet, deserted streets.
Another alley loomed. An unmoving shape darkened the shadows beside the first garage. Much bigger than a cat. Raine slowed.
The faint flash of something metallic glittered for a fraction of a second. Her skin prickled and the hair at her nape rose. She stopped. Stared at the shadow, as if focusing harder would make it visible.
Her pulsed thrummed. Adrenaline poured through her. She took deep, steadying breaths. Prepared herself.
She pressed the call button on her phone and shoved it into her waistband. Connor was the last person she'd called. If she was lucky, he'd hear what was going on.
If she was unlucky, he'd hear her murderer.
She began walking again, never taking her gaze off
that shadow. As she reached the alley, a pebble bounced along the ground. The shadow disengaged from the garage and stepped into the light. The man held a gun, pointed at her chest. His familiar face was smiling. "Hello, Raine."
Chapter 31
"Peter." She stopped and planted her feet wide. Ready to attack. "You here to kill me? Like you killed Genie?"
Light glinted off the gun as he shifted. Moved a little farther away from her.
Fierce triumph made her take a step closer to him. He might still shoot her, but he feared her. If she was smart, if she could control her racing heart and shaking limbs, she could use his fear.
"Stay where you are, Raine." He aimed the gun at her. It was out of her strike distance. His hand was rock steady. As if threatening another human being with a gun was like a handshake. A form of greeting. Something people did without thought.
"Afraid of me, Peter?"
A mistake. His mouth thinned and his hand tightened around the gun. Okay. Don't suggest the psychopath is afraid of anything. Especially her.
"Why would I be afraid, Raine?" He'd recovered quickly. "I'm the one with the gun."
She wanted to point out that he was the one who'd backed up, but she kept her mouth shut. “I can see that. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to tie up loose ends.”
“Really?” She shuffled her feet to creep a few inches closer. “Instead of taking off? Why bother with me?”
“For fun, Raine. You think you’re untouchable. That you’re better than I am. You thought you could bring me down. I’m proving that I’m better than you.
“You’ve been a thorn in my side for six months. I promised myself that I’d take care of you, and I always keep my promises.”
A surge of anger made her slide her feet a little closer. “Not always. You promised to honor and cherish Genie.”
“I changed my mind. It wasn’t working out for me.”
He was talking about her sister. As if killing her had been no more than using a tissue and tossing it into the trash. She clenched her hands into fists.
Relaxed them. He wasn’t going to goad her into doing something stupid. She could keep it together. She’d done it for six months. She could manage a few more minutes.
“So you’re here to kill me, too.” She nodded at the gun. “Why do you need that? I thought you liked to kill up close. With your hands. So you can see the lights go out."
He tilted his head as he watched her, and a smile played across his face. "You're right. I'll miss that," he said. "But I don't have time to linger tonight. So I need to make this quick."
If he was going to kill her quickly, she had nothing to lose by taunting him. And if she could make him angry, make him lose his cool, it gave her an advantage. "I thought it was because you didn't want to face me like a man. Because you're afraid I'll kick your ass."
"I'm not afraid of you, Raine." Anger flashed in his eyes. The gun wobbled for a moment. Okay. He didn't like that. Good. She slid another few inches toward him. He didn't notice as he adjusted his grip on the gun.
She had no idea what kind of gun it was. Connor would know.
Connor wasn't here.
She swallowed. She was on her own. No one would be riding to her rescue. She had to get out of this jam herself.
“So after you kill me, you’re going to run away?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m not running away. I’m starting a new life. All my money’s in the Caymans. I have the passport with my new name.” He patted the pocket of his jacket. “Just one last piece of business, then I have a plane to catch.”
"I'm curious, Peter. Why did you kill Genie? Beatrice doesn't get much right, but she was right about that. Why not just divorce her? It would have been a lot simpler. A lot less messy."
His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. "The bitch wanted a divorce."
Her sister had finally found the strength to leave him. But it had been too late. "I lost track of how many times I told her to divorce you. She never would. Why then?"
"She found out about Meredith." A muscle in his jaw jumped. "She had proof. She would have taken half my money. Half my retirement account. I'd have to sell the house. And she would have turned Beatrice against me."
Her heart raced and her legs felt like spaghetti. But she dragged her feet another small step forward. "Really? You killed her because you wanted Beatrice to like you? That's pretty weak, Peter."
"I wanted Beatrice to leave me her money. Which she would. She loved Genie. Not you. And the feeling seems to be mutual."
She ignored the tiny pinch in her heart. She didn’t have time for sentiment. "So after you kill me, Beatrice is next?"
"Not immediately. That would be a red flag, and I’m smarter than that." He smiled. "We'll comfort each other first. Become very close in our shared grief.”
“Hard to do from the Caymans.” Raine flexed her shoulders. She was almost close enough. Peter hadn’t noticed – he was too busy telling her how smart he was.
“I’ll be back. Your family is either dead or estranged from you. Who’s going to care about your death? They’ll work on it for a week, then put it aside.”
Connor wouldn’t. He’d promised to take her to his family dinner next month. She would make sure she was alive to go with him.
She rolled her shoulders and wiggled her fingers.
Peter was smiling. “I’ll be Beatrice’s only family. Of course she’ll leave me her money.”
"Good luck with that." She edged forward. "You know moths fly out of Beatrice's wallet when she opens it."
"What else is she going to do with it? Leave it to that yappy little dog of hers?"
"Beatrice has a dog?" she asked, then mentally kicked herself.
His smile widened. "I see I never had anything to fear from you on the inheritance front."
"Of course you do," she said. She took a deep breath. She was almost there. Almost close enough for a kick. Another foot would do it. "Beatrice is very traditional. She'll find someone else in the family tree. Someone who shares her genes."
"I can be very persuasive," Peter said. He motioned with his gun. "Speaking of which, you need to back up."
"Why? I'd think you'd want me closer. Less chance of missing me."
"I don't miss."
"Really? How often have you shot someone?"
His mouth thinned again. "I've been going to a firing range. Practicing."
"Shooting at paper targets? I guess they always listen when you tell them to move back, right?"
She needed to get closer. "One more thing I'd like to know before you kill me. How did you convince Genie to go to that club? She wasn't a clubber."
His face lit up, as if pleased with himself. Raine slid a little closer. Her toe nudged a stone away, and it hit another stone with a faint crack. Peter didn’t hear it. He was too busy telling her how clever he was. "That was the beauty of it. She told me she was going there. Told me she was going to pick up a guy and screw his brains out. I found a guy there who was so drunk he could barely stand. No chance he’ll remember me. I slipped him a hundred bucks to get her into the alley. I told him I wanted to surprise her." He chuckled, and the sound made all her hairs stand up.
"You did that," she said, her voice flat. She needed two more steps. "I bet she was surprised as hell to see you."
Peter glanced at her. He was shocked at how close she was – she saw it in his eyes. He stumbled backward. "Not another step, Raine."
She followed him. He raised his gun, but his hand was shaking now. "Stop."
She needed another step. Just one more to be close enough to be sure she’d nail him.
Sweat glistened on Peter's forehead. He didn’t like her this close to him.
Good. She took another step, and the gun steadied in his hand.
"I've enjoyed our little chat, Raine, but it's time for me to go." He aimed it at her chest. "I have a plane to catch."
Peter was not going to kill her. She loved Connor
, and she hadn't told him yet. Peter wasn't going to steal that from her, too.
His finger tightened on the trigger and she leaped into a kick. The gun went off as her foot connected with his hand. Her side burned, but she ignored it. She kicked again, this time connecting just beneath his chin.
Peter's head snapped back and bounced against the garage door. He began to slide to the ground, and Raine was on him.
Before she could strike him, he shoved her away. As she stumbled, he scanned the alley. Looking for his gun.
She wouldn’t let him get it.
Gathering herself, she kicked out again, hitting him on his left knee and sweeping his feet out from under him. He crashed onto the asphalt.
She dropped on top of him and jammed a knee into his back. He reached back with both hands, grabbing her with his left. He tightened his fingers around her left arm, just below the elbow, and squeezed as he tried to yank her off. She ignored the pain as she put her right hand to his throat and pressed until he went limp.
Her breath sawed in and out of her throat and her head spun. She rolled off Peter’s back and struggled to her feet as her heart tried to leap out of her chest.
Why?
It had taken two kicks to knock Peter to the ground, a few more seconds to disable him. Why was she so winded? So weak?
She looked around for help, but there was no one in sight. No one had heard the gunshot. No one had looked out a window.
She touched her side, found the rectangular shape of her phone. Still there. Still transmitting to Connor's phone, she hoped.
But she couldn't check. Couldn't hear Connor's voice yet. She had to make sure Peter couldn't get away.
There was nothing in the alley to use to tie him up. She wore only her yoga pants and a tee shirt. She fumbled at Peter's waist and felt a belt.
Rolling him over, she unbuckled it and yanked it off his pants. Then she flipped him face down again and used the belt to tie his hands.
Trust Me (The Donovan Family Book 4) Page 28
