by Alexi Venice
“It’s coming together,” Amanda said, as they walked down the hallway toward Tommy’s suite. “If Ryan can get Kara to tell us something, even if she turns on Voss, that would put the nail in the coffin.”
Tommy checked his watch. “I’m giving him an hour to get ahold of her and set up a meeting.”
“Text me when you have something,” Amanda said, as she left him for her own office.
She felt energized, ready to take on the world. Then she remembered she didn’t have to take on the world, just Kara Montiago and Vincent Voss. That realization lightened the weight on her shoulders. No need for cigarettes today.
She nodded to a few staff as she strode through the DA’s Office. With this investigation in the can, Jen and I can enjoy ourselves at Chance and Kip’s party next weekend.
She walked into her office to find Mel standing behind her desk. “Hi,” Amanda said, then did a doubletake at the phone in Mel’s hand, pointed at Amanda’s computer screen.
Mel looked at Amanda with a mixture of surprise and guilt.
“Watcha up to?” Amanda asked, giving Mel the benefit of the doubt. After all, she was new and had recently messed up.
“Just…ah…pulling up your Microsoft Outlook to give me permission to accept or decline meeting invites for you,” Mel said.
Why is her eye twitching? Why is she stuffing her cell phone in her pocket? Something isn’t right. “Didn’t we do that the first day you started?”
“Yeah, but there were some upgrades to the system, and the other assistants told me that your meeting invites were bouncing back to them.” A nervous look. Tense body language.
Amanda didn’t believe Mel’s explanation. “Let me just come around and help you.”
When Amanda rounded her desk and looked at her computer screen, she saw a lengthy email from Jeremy Jones about a new case file against a known mobster. Amanda had not been reading that when she left her office. “Doesn’t look to me like you’re in the program to set permissions.”
As if in slow motion, Amanda watched in horror as Mel opened a side desk drawer and removed Amanda’s Glock Zev Dragonfly, quickly pulling back the action and chambering a bullet.
Holy fuck! Amanda stared in disbelief and slowly raised her hands. “Now, Mel. Let’s not get crazy.”
“Crazy?!” Mel spat in a falsetto pitch, pointing the gun with a steady hand at Amanda. “You mean crazy like you killed my father crazy?”
Amanda shook her head. Father? Despite being terrified, she found her voice. “What are you talking about, Mel?”
“My father, Eddy Valentine. You fucking shot him on China Beach.”
Amanda’s insides slid to her toes, and her mouth went dry. “You’re Eddy Valentine’s daughter?”
“Yes. The only daughter of the man you shot in cold blood,” Mel snarled. “I read the media reports. There were eyewitnesses who said you shot him after you disarmed him and questioned him—”
“Let’s not jump to con…clusions,” Amanda stammered. I’m fucked.
Suddenly, Tommy bounced into the room in mid-sentence. “Hey, Amanda, I thought of something else…” He didn’t finish his sentence when his eyes registered Mel pointing a gun at Amanda, his brain quickly processing the uncanny scene.
Instinct took over, and he reached for the gun on his belt.
But not in time.
Mel fired a shot at Tommy, hitting him in his right arm. “Fuck,” he yelled as he dropped his gun and fell to his knees.
Amanda dove on Mel, going for her wrist and snapping it down like she’d been taught in self-defense class. The gun fell to the floor, but Mel landed a punch to Amanda’s jaw. After a flash of stars, Amanda’s head filled with an infinite amount of fiery rage. She went into overdrive, driving her fists into Mel, not caring where they landed, just so they connected.
Mel, more skilled at fighting than Amanda, rolled Amanda over and pinned her shoulders to the floor, sitting on top of her. Just as Mel was bringing her fist back to punch Amanda in the face, they heard another thundering crack. Mel was thrown off Amanda, landing against the wall with a bullet in her chest.
Disoriented, and her ears ringing from the shot, Amanda struggled to figure out what had just happened. She tilted her head sideways, and saw that Tommy was on his knees with his gun in his good hand…still pointed at Mel.
Tommy is still alive?! He shot Mel?! Ignoring her aching ribs and jaw, Amanda got to her knees and crawled over to Tommy. “Oh my God, Tommy. You saved my life!”
He handed her the gun and fell back against the sofa, holding his right arm.
Suddenly, there were several cops crashing down the hallway and into her office, guns drawn. They were initially confused, seeing Amanda with a gun, and Tommy and Mel with bullets in them. Amanda slowly set Tommy’s gun on the floor and raised her hands. “Just holding Tommy’s gun. He shot Mel, who was trying to kill both of us.”
Tommy nodded for the benefit of the officers. “When I came in, Mel was pointing a gun at Amanda. I reached for my gun, and Mel shot me in my right arm. I went down but scrambled for my gun and used my left hand to shoot her. By that time, Mel was on top of Amanda, pummeling the shit out of her.”
Well, she wasn’t pummeling the shit out of me, Amanda thought. She had only gained a temporary advantage. I could’ve taken her.
Before Tommy could say more, officers swarmed him, attending to his gunshot wound.
Amanda got to her feet with the help of an officer and brushed her hands down her slacks. An involuntary shake overtook her, like a deer that had just been spooked.
Assessing the damage, she moved her hand to her jaw, the searing pain reminding her how strong Mel’s young fist was. Amanda turned and looked at Mel, lying limp and slack-jawed on the floor, dead as dead can be. Eddy Valentine’s daughter. How the fuck did she pass a background check for this job?
Chapter 41
San Francisco Community Hospital
Amanda sat across from Ryan in the sticky, vinyl chairs next to the bed that Tommy was lying on while Dr. Lane Wallace attended to the bullet hole in Tommy’s deltoid.
“The bullet shaved off a good piece of skin and muscle, but your biceps tendon is still intact,” Lane said, as he sutured the wound closed.
“Will I lose any function?” Tommy asked.
“Only temporarily,” Lane said. “In six weeks, you’ll be drawing your six-shooter as fast as you ever have.”
“Not fast enough to beat a secretary at the O.K. Corral,” Ryan muttered.
“She was Valentine’s daughter,” Amanda said, “skilled and dangerous—probably from the age of two.”
“Which makes me wonder why you hired her.”
Amanda felt her cheeks sting with embarrassment. “You and me both, Ryan.”
At that moment, Jen came rushing in. “How is he? What happened?”
Amanda jumped out of her chair and embraced Jen like it was their last, preventing Jen from getting to Tommy. The adrenaline of fighting with Mel, bringing out the worst in Amanda, had boiled into a hot mess in her chest. She suddenly felt bare and very guilty. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”
Jen’s strong hands immediately soothed the back of Amanda’s head. “It’s okay, babe. I’m sure it isn’t your fault.” Jen quickly scanned Ryan’s face. He shook his head in a not-even-close way.
Jen glanced at Tommy and saw that Lane was focused on a very small wound and Tommy’s bare torso looked free from any damage.
“I…my assistant, Mel,” Amanda stammered, “was Eddy Valentine’s daughter…out to get me.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know how she passed the background check to get hired in the DA’s office, but she did.” Amanda took a calming breath. “I think she was sabotaging my office, and when I caught her looking at my emails, she pulled my gun on me.”
Jen pressed her eyes shut and comforted Amanda, who was shivering like a wet puppy. “Where was Tommy shot?”
“Through his right deltoid,” Lane said. “No bone or
arteries involved. Biceps tendon looks good.”
“That’s a relief,” Jen said. “I’d love to take a look.”
“He’ll live,” Ryan piped up. “Part of the job.”
“Today wasn’t part of his job,” Amanda said, still holding on tightly to Jen. “He was only coming back to chat with me in my office. He didn’t deserve to get shot.”
Jen looked at Tommy over Amanda’s shoulder, and he raised his head enough to wink at her. “Thanks for coming Jen.” He lay his head back against the pillow.
“It’s just so…” Amanda mumbled into Jen’s shoulder, now damp with tears.
“I know…” Jen patted Amanda’s back. “And, Mel? What happened to her?”
“She’s dead,” Amanda whispered. “Tommy shot her dead.”
Jen nodded against the side of Amanda’s head. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here.”
“No wonder Mel said she liked my beard,” Tommy said to no one in particular.
“That should’ve been your first clue,” Ryan said. “No one likes your beard.”
The levity softened Amanda’s vice-like grip on Jen. “I can’t believe we hired Valentine’s daughter. Now we know why she put the evidence sticker on the dog ashes–to sabotage the arson case, not because she thought it was her job.”
“Dog ashes?” Jen asked.
“It’s a long story,” Amanda said nervously, suddenly dropping her hands from Jen’s waist and turning to look at Tommy. “I’ll fill you in later.”
Jen gave her a quizzical look but used the break to go to Tommy’s side.
“I bet she’s the one who’s been stealing from the Evidence Room too,” Tommy said.
“Navarro’s team is looking at the security cam footage,” Ryan said.
Jen grabbed Tommy’s hand and gave it a squeeze, making him smile.
Amanda’s phone chirped with an incoming text. “Frank is here and needs permission to come in.”
“Of course,” Tommy said. “Ryan, will you go get him?”
“Now I’m your errand boy?” Ryan slipped out of the room and returned a minute later with Frank.
“Hey Tommy. Heard you shot Valentine’s daughter,” Frank said.
“Not before she got me,” Tommy said.
“You gotta learn to duck faster, my friend.”
Tommy laughed at the dark humor. “What’s new?”
“I found the other Tyche exec, Chris Galindez.”
“Frank is working on this case?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah. He’s been helping us out,” Tommy said, covering for Amanda. “Is Galindez dead or alive?”
“Alive and well. He’s at the Hall in an interrogation room. I found him in a bar in Half Moon Bay,” Frank said. “He’s very talkative and cooperative.”
“What did he say?” Ryan asked.
“Galindez had an affair with Kara too—”
“Who hasn’t slept with the woman?” Ryan interrupted.
“Anyway,” Frank continued, “Galindez and Carlisle blackmailed her with their sex videos. Carlisle was their spokesman. Kara’s lawyer, Voss, planned to meet and pay them in return for a confidential release.”
“How much did they demand?” Ryan asked.
“They each asked for $500,000, but Galindez didn’t attend the meeting at Carlisle’s house the night of the murder. He got drunk at a bar with friends and blew it off.”
“That was probably the best decision he ever made,” Tommy said, as he watched Lane tie off the last suture.
“Why didn’t Galindez come forward?” Ryan asked.
“He knew something was wrong when Carlisle didn’t return his texts. Then he saw the news coverage and went into hiding because he was afraid of Kara and Voss.”
“I’m ready to arrest those fuckers,” Tommy said, raising himself to a sitting position.
“Like hell you are,” Ryan said.
Lane put his hand on Tommy’s back for support. “Take a deep breath and sit here a minute.”
Jen inspected Tommy’s wound. “Nice closure, Lane.”
“Thanks.” Lane opened a large bandage and carefully adhered it to the skin around the wound. “Keep the wound clean. You can shower with the bandage on, then replace it with a dry one. The sutures will dissolve in a few weeks.” Lane gave Tommy a few extra bandages.
“Thanks,” Tommy said. “I’m ready to go.”
“You’re ready for a leave of absence,” Ryan said.
Jen grabbed Tommy’s shirt from a hook on the wall and helped shrug it on. She flicked his hands away and buttoned it for him, stuffing the extra bandages in his shirt pocket. “Take care of yourself.”
He looked at her tenderly. “Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime.”
“Let me show you how to put on the sling.” Lane adjusted the straps for the lightweight fabric and slipped it over Tommy’s head and around his elbow. “Take it off in the evening when you’re home.”
“Thanks.” Tommy slid off the end of the table and stood. He rolled his shoulders back and shook his head, clearing the cobwebs. “Let’s go arrest Voss.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Ryan said. “The second you shot Melanie and took a bullet yourself, you were officially on administrative leave.”
“Don’t pull that bureaucratic shit on me,” Tommy said. “This is my case.”
“I’m sure Frank and a few uniforms can arrest Voss and Kara,” Ryan said. “I’ll mention you in our press conference. In fact, you can stand next to me, wearing your sling as a badge of honor.”
“That’s not what this is about, and you know it,” Tommy grumbled.
“Be that as it may,” Ryan said, “you’re officially sidelined.”
Tommy glared at Ryan but held his tongue.
“Frank, do you have time to arrest Voss and Kara?” Ryan asked.
“I’d be delighted. I say we arrest Voss first.”
“I agree,” Ryan said. “Give me a few minutes to order some units to the scene. I want plenty of backup there.”
“I’d welcome the company,” Frank said. “The address is 580 California Street.”
Ryan nodded and texted.
“I’m coming with you,” Amanda said.
“Be careful,” Jen said of to both of them, but her eyes were on Amanda.
“We will.” Amanda angled up and kissed Jen’s cheek.
The group made their way to the front entrance of the hospital and stopped at the revolving doors.
“Wait a minute,” Amanda said. “I don’t have my car. I came with you, Ryan.”
“Let me call an officer to bring a cruiser for you.”
“I’m not riding in one of those,” Amanda said. “I’ll text Officer Rodriguez. I’m sure she can be here in a few minutes.”
“Sonja?” Ryan asked.
“Yes,” Amanda said.
“She’s good,” Ryan said. “Up and comer on the force. I met her girlfriend the other day—works in the Clerk of Courts Office. Nice girl.”
Amanda’s eyes flew to Jen, who was staring at her with a see-I-told-you-so look. While answering Ryan, Amanda maintained eye contact with Jen. “That’s nice. Sonja is a good driver.”
Jen squinted once, giving Amanda a warning shot, then turned and pushed through the revolving doors to return to her clinic full of patients.
“I saw that look,” Tommy said. “I’d be careful if I were you.”
“She has nothing to worry about.” Amanda quickly texted Sonja.
“Several squads are on their way to Voss’s law office,” Ryan said to Frank.
“Great,” Frank said. “We should be at the Hall with Voss in about an hour. Then we’ll drive down to Palo Alto to collar Kara.”
“See you then.” Ryan turned to Tommy. “Do you need a ride home?”
“We can drop him,” Amanda volunteered. “His place is only a few blocks from Voss’ office.”
Ryan eyed her suspiciously. “Can I trust you?”
“Of course,” she said.
“We’ll drop him at his place. Go on.”
“Stay in touch with me,” Ryan said.
“Will do,” Frank replied for all of them.
They watched Ryan push through the doors and get into his chauffeured police car.
Amanda consulted her phone. “Fantastic. Sonja has been waiting for me in the Emergency Department lot.”
“She’s quite the mind reader,” Tommy said.
“I know, right?” Amanda said.
As they exited the revolving doors, Sonja pulled up. She walked around the idling car and opened the back door for Tommy and Amanda. Frank got in the front.
“I heard what happened,” Sonja said.
“Thanks for coming,” Amanda said.
“My pleasure.” Sonja waited until Tommy and Amanda were secure in the back seat then closed the door and returned to the driver’s seat. “Where to?”
Frank turned and looked at Amanda.
“580 California Street,” she said. “Voss & Baker Law Office.” She patted Tommy’s leg in conspiracy.
Frank cocked an eyebrow at her.
“What?” Amanda asked. “I didn’t tell Ryan we’d drop Tommy before we arrested Voss. I just said, ‘We’ll drop him.’ We can easily bring him to his house after we arrest Voss.”
Frank smiled.
“Tommy, you’re going to be there in an unofficial capacity, so no heroics,” Amanda said.
“I could take that lawyer prick drunk at midnight with my hand tied behind my back,” Tommy said.
“Well, it almost is, but you don’t have to prove it,” she said. “You’re an observer only.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Tommy said.
She ignored him and addressed Frank. “How is this going to go down?”
“We storm Voss’ office and arrest him,” Frank said.
Tommy smiled.
“Think it’s going to be that easy?” Amanda asked.
“It never is, but we can pretend.”
“Are you packing?” Amanda asked.
“Of course,” Frank said.
“Do you have cuffs on your belt?”
“Do I look like a rookie?” he asked.
She laughed. “Zip ties in your pocket?”
“Never,” he said in a tone that belied his denial.
She wondered how deep his pockets were, because they seemed to hold one of everything an officer could possibly need.
