Eviscerating the Snake - The Complete Trilogy

by Ashley Fontainne

  Light at the end of the tunnel, I see you!

  THE AGENTS LEFT AFTER a few minutes of preening and crowing at Eric’s demands, informing me that they would be in contact soon with more questions should any arise after I recovered from my “wounds.” I thought the older agent was going to choke when he said that, and for a few seconds, I wondered if a fistfight might ensue as he and Eric stared each other down. It was all quite dramatic and hilarious at the same time.

  Although I was relieved when they walked out of the room, I was faced with having what I knew would be an awkward conversation with Eric. I still couldn’t believe he showed up. When the Feds left, he came over and stood at the edge of my bed, his face betraying his thoughts. Love and compassion oozed out of him while he stared at me, his words held at bay by his nervousness. It was obvious that he was waiting to see what my reaction to his presence would be, and I was trying to figure that out myself. The mixture of emotions swirling around inside was making me feel off-kilter and I hated the sensation of losing control of myself.

  There was a part of me that was ecstatic he came for me. That tiny of me wanted to leap off of the bed and run into his arms, melt into his embrace, and experience once again the passionate fire that we seemed preordained to share. Obviously, he heard about what happened and came back.

  But that part of me was so small, it was easily crushed out of my mind. What I really wanted to do was knock the living bejesus out of him, eliminating that pathetic puppy-dog look off of his face. Who the hell was he to think that he could just waltz back into my life and pick up where he left off? My decision to ruin him had been made last February the moment I decided to take over Winscott. After he left, that course of action was set on the backburner of my brain as I immersed myself with taking out Audra. After I made the decision earlier to get the hell out of the frying pan while I had a break in the flames, my thoughts of ruining Eric Jenning’s life ceased to exist.

  Until he walked back into my life with that pathetic look on his face. It was time to start a new game with previous players; I just needed to play my cards right.

  “What are you doing here, Eric?” I said, the question spouted out with my usual decorum.

  He smiled, the relief on his face evident at the ice finally breaking between us.

  “I heard you needed a ride back home. Your chariot awaits, my Queen.”

  “What does Elaine think about your decision to chauffer your ex-lover?”

  He cleared his throat as he moved from the edge of the bed to stand beside me. His hand slowly inched its way toward my own. I almost laughed when I noticed it was slightly shaking. I knew then what was going to come out of his mouth next.

  “What Elaine thinks anymore is none of my concern. I left her, Nikki. Being without you the last few months was horrible, but I made it through by telling myself that I would still run into you now and again since we travel in the same social circles and all. I tried forcing myself to change, to for once in my life not think with my dick or pocketbook. To be a good husband to her was my goal, but I realized when I saw the news that was just a lie. My eyes opened right then. I was forced to face the fact that I really did marry Elaine for her family’s money and there was nothing between us…not even sex anymore. But the most important thing that hit me was my love for you. I started thinking with my heart when your name flashed across the screen. Love overcame everything, and I was on the first flight back here. I can’t live in a world where the woman I love doesn’t exist.”

  A small tear emerged from his beautiful, blue eyes, tracing a path down his leathery cheek and dripping down onto his hand that was holding mine. It was the first time in all the years that I’d known him that I ever witnessed him cry, and for a nanosecond, it almost swayed me.

  But then I regained my sanity.

  “So, you left her, huh? And it only took me almost dying to make you realize how much I meant to you? Goodness, Eric, I’m flattered,” I said, yanking my hand out of his and exiting the bed from the other side. The wounded look on his face was hilarious, and I suppressed the urge to laugh again.

  “Nikki, I know I hurt you, and I know you have every right to be angry and not to forgive me. I may be pushing hard on sixty-five’s door, and I don’t know how long I will be around, but I don’t care. If it takes me the rest of my life—however long that is—I will spend it by proving to you what you mean to me. And I promise you, I will wait forever just to hear you say you forgive me and still love me.”

  I moved to the doorway and replied, “If that’s true, then your first order of business is to get me the hell out of what can’t even be considered a town. I don’t ever want to step foot into Summerset, Arizona, again.”

  His face lit up like a Christmas tree during the holidays in Louisiana, his enthusiasm making me nauseous. He practically ran to the door and opened it, his limping gait slowing him down only a fraction.

  “You bet,” he said, holding the door as I walked out.

  A few moments of thankful silence ensued while we rode the elevator down to the main level. I felt my pulse quicken when I thought about all the reporters and the glaring lights, their questions pounding me as they spat them out. Oh man, I wasn’t sure I could handle that and maintain my composure. Eric seemed to sense my apprehension and gently touched my shoulder.

  “If you are worried about the press, don’t be. They weren’t in the back at the emergency room exit when I arrived. Seems the Feds have called a press conference that starts in ten minutes, and they all converged on the front entrance, waiting for the latest juicy morsel. I overhead that from one of them when I arrived. That’s how I knew they were here. I didn’t realize they would be in your room; I assumed they were with Audra. The entryway was abuzz with the news that she regained consciousness.”

  I didn’t say a word, afraid my true thoughts would emerge about the status of the little bitch’s condition, so I simply followed his lead out to his car, semi-surprised to discover he was right: there wasn’t a reporter in sight. Once inside his car and out on the highway, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  We rode in silence for about ten minutes before he spoke.

  “When we get back to Phoenix, where do you want to stop at first? I assume to pick up your car?”

  I groaned inwardly, thinking about how much I needed to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours.

  “I am not even sure it is still where I left it. Besides, I don’t have my keys since they were in my purse, which is god-knows-where at the moment. Guess the first thing I need to do is borrow your phone and make some calls.”

  Not waiting for his approval, I grabbed his cell from the console and looked up Zargento’s number. Within minutes, I discovered that, indeed, my car was still in their parking lot, which mildly surprised me since I assumed it would have been towed away. I told the manager that I would be there later in the afternoon to pick it up.

  “Well, that solves one problem. Now the fun part of calling the police and being passed around from one idiot to the next while they try and figure out where my purse is at.”

  He smiled and replied, “Take a look in the backseat.”

  Sitting in the seat behind him was my purse, which I then grabbed and began rifling through it, making sure everything was still there. I noticed a small bag that contained the broken pieces of my cell phone which would never be of use anymore, but the memory card seemed to be intact.

  “How did you…”

  “Connections, baby, connections. A phone call to Captain Tatum was all it took. He still owes me a favor from years ago that revolved around getting him a huge tax refund after some careful doctoring of his tax return.”

  I snorted, “You always were the best at cipherin’ numbers, baby.”

  His smile at my use of the word baby was almost pitiable if I still was able to feel pity for others anymore, which I wasn’t.

  “I guess that since I have my house and car keys now, the first stop would be Zargento’s to get my car, then to
the nearest store so I can get another phone. I hope the SIM card still works.”

  His grin became more pronounced. “Look in the glove box.”

  Inside, a brand new phone sat there, right next to an unopened pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I was so excited that I didn’t know which little treasure to open first. Nicotine won out and I fumbled with the pack and lit up, inhaling the calming chemicals deep into my eager lungs.

  “Oh god, that is better than sex.”

  “I figured you were jonesing for one, especially after the last few days. I know you like the back of my own hand. But, better than sex? Wow, you really have missed me.”

  I forced a smile in response to his laughter at his own joke. We may never have suffered from boredom in the bedroom, but I had other things to focus my appetites on, and getting sweat upon and poked by an average-sized penis was not one of them.

  I ignored his attempt to steer the conversation to his favorite subject. I took the last drag into my eager lungs, then flung the smoking remnants out the window and picked up the new cell phone from the glove box. If I were a typical woman, I would feel something for Eric’s attempts to display his love for me by trying to take care of my every need. Of course, I was a cold, hard bitch, and it wasn’t working, although his little peace offerings were making my to-do list shorter. Within seconds, I inserted the SIM card and the new phone blinked to life, and I was back in business.

  “Are there other hidden treasures lurking inside the car?”

  He laughed, the familiar rumble deep from within him reminding me of the past. “Nope, that’s it in the car.”

  His allusion to something later intrigued me, but I decided not to inquire. I had other things that needed my attention and no patience to play games with him.

  I didn’t respond and just let the subject and conversation die, and we slipped into silence. I didn’t feel like conversing with him anymore, so I feigned sleep while I just let my thoughts wander. Earlier jumbled images about what to do about my situation, which finally settled on my plans to leave the country, were gone and replaced by new ones that I never thought would be possible. Ones that, once again, had a scapegoat for me to finish what Kevin and Piper started. Beside me sat the perfect patsy that unknowingly was giving me the thing I craved the most—the chance to kill the bitch with my bare hands and walk away without a trace, never having to look over my shoulder again.

  The plan was taking shape beautifully. Thanks to Eric’s generous foresight, some of the more time-consuming hurdles were gone. He may have chased away the nosey Feds for a while, but they would be back in no time, like an annoying mosquito that you keep shooing but won’t leave without feasting on your blood. I could tell that the younger, inexperienced agent had been buying into my tale, but the one that counted, didn’t. The look on his face made that clear as day. But my lie was plausible, and hopefully, it would take a few days for them to pour through all the evidence and realize I was lying through my teeth.

  I had no idea how long it would be for the results of the autopsy to come back on Kevin, but when they did, I knew I was screwed. I didn’t know what it was that Audra shot him full of, but between that and the fact that she cracked his skull like a walnut, rendering him in no way capable of firing a weapon, didn’t really matter. They would know. Then the truth about the shooting would emerge and my remaining days would be spent in prison, which didn’t gel exactly with the retirement plans I had envisioned. I had about five days, at best, to solidify a plan and execute it or give up my malicious dreams of killing that blonde bitch and just flee the country. But the lure of ending her life was just too great of a temptation for me to pass up, and the wheels of deciding her fate were in full gear.

  About ten minutes into my pretend slumber, I felt Eric’s cool hand wrap gently around mine, then his voice whispered, “I love you.”

  I held my fake charade of sleeping perfectly while I thought, too bad for you.

  LATE THURSDAY AFTERNOON

  SPECIAL AGENT LUCAS KENDAL sat at his desk while he stared at the mound of notes he had written as he poured over every detail of the case. After almost twenty years on the job, he knew he should have more patience when waiting for the forensic team’s results, but the wait time on the case was close to ridiculous. He needed some answers yesterday. How much longer did he have to wait?

  A light rap on his door made him look up and he hoped it was someone bringing him the autopsy results. His face showed his disappointment when he saw Agent Doster walk in empty handed.

  “Tell me some good news,” he said.

  “Okay. I just won the office pool after the Cardinal’s win last night,” Agent Doster said, his impish grin infectious to most that saw it—except for Special Agent Kendal, who was in no mood for frivolity.

  “On the case.”

  “Well,” he said, pulling up the chair on the other side of the desk and scooting closer, “McCrae just informed me that after his initial pass through the computers, he is relieved that his daughter turned down the internship that Winscott offered her a few years ago.”

  Special Agent Kendal glowered at him, and Agent Doster held up his hands in mock surrender.

  “Sorry, just trying to lighten the air.”

  “I’m tired and haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, which means you are treading on some thin ice. What, if anything, has McCrae’s team found that might actually be useful to our case?”

  Agent Doster rose and walked over to the large whiteboard that sat in the corner. He pointed to it and began.

  “Unraveling the mess has proved to be quite interesting. We already knew, based on the interviews that we have conducted, that Winscott and Associates was full of deplorable people, especially the upper echelon. McCrae’s team found numerous phone records between Kevin Robertson and Piper Rancliff, mostly late night conversations where he called her cell phone. They also found a document that appears to have been written by Robertson to his wife, apologizing for what he had done and begging her to forgive him and take him back.”

  Special Agent Kendal let out a heavy sigh, followed with the question, “And why is that of importance?”

  “Well, sir, he also intimated what he was about to do in that letter, and it sort of segued over to a suicide note, if things didn’t work out. Perhaps he harbored guilt or had a premonition that their plan might not work out in his favor.”

  S.A. Kendal leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes.

  “You are still regaling me with information we already know.”

  “Sir, if I may be frank?” Agent Doster said, returning to the chair. S.A. Kendal nodded, his eyes still closed.

  “We have enough evidence to call the case wrapped. We know that Piper killed Dr. Moore and stole the rattlesnake venom. We know that she then used that venom to kill her former colleague, Robert Folton. We know she was responsible for the death of Gabrielle Lincoln and the clerk at the gas station. We also know that she and Kevin devised a plan to kidnap Audra and make it look like she committed suicide. We know, from the evidence found at the scene, Piper hoped Audra’s falsified admission to lying about her rape would free Olin from prison. After all, that seemed to be what Piper was shooting for at least—his freedom. And we know that Kevin hoped to attain the title of managing partner at Winscott after they killed Nicole Simmons in a car accident. So, why are you winding yourself up into such a tight ball over this? What am I missing, sir?”

  S.A. Kendal opened his bloodshot eyes and stared for a full minute at the pup sitting in front of him. Agent Doster may have several degrees on his wall, but he lacked the instincts of a seasoned cop. What was missing here seemed obvious to him, and how Agent Doster wasn’t connecting the dots was bugging the shit out of him.

  “I believe you left out one thing there, junior.”

  Irritated at the jab yet unwilling to show it, Agent Doster replied, “And what is that, sir?”

  “Weren’t you with me in the hospital when we interviewed Ms. Simmons, o
r did I dream that?”

  “You don’t believe her story? I admit, it is odd, but then again, nothing about this case is normal. You think she was in on this whole deal?”

  S.A. Kendal let a snide grin form on his lips.

  “Don’t you think her story was just too convenient? Wait, don’t answer that. Think for a moment, Doster. Recall her every move, her responses to our presence, and the fact that the first thing out of her mouth was a lie. Are you trying to tell me that you swallowed that line of bullshit she fed us and didn’t even have one hair stand up on the back of your neck?”

  Agent Doster cleared his throat and responded, his eyes narrowed slightly while he forced back a smart ass reply.

  “Sir, being candid again, no, I didn’t get that type of vibe at all. I believe that her rendition of the events of early Saturday morning line up with the evidence found at the scene, and I believe we should consider this case closed. Pending the autopsy results, of course.”

  “Well, that right there is exactly the reason I am a Special Agent and you aren’t. Now, don’t come back to my office again with your doe-eyed viewpoint of the world unless you are bringing me Kevin Robertson’s autopsy report. You should use your free time honing your instincts better, or you will never make it far in the Bureau.”

  Agent Doster was infuriated but never said a word. He rose out of the chair and left the room; the only noticeable trace of anger arose when he shut the door too loudly. S.A. Kendal shook his head in disgust at the boy. He would learn—over time. It only took a few slaps in the face with your inabilities to find ways to overcome them.

  S.A. Kendal stood up and walked over to the small coffee pot in the corner of his office. He refilled his stained mug and took a long, slow swig of the hot liquid and stared out the window. He knew as soon as those results were back, he would be proven right once again. In twenty years, the knot in his stomach was never wrong.