Marly’s hair swung in the lamplight as she shook her head. “I don’t think so, Carter.” Her clipped tone took the starch right out of him.
“Sit down,” Sam ordered.
Carter slumped into the nearest chair and stared at Marly. “I only helped Duncan because of you.”
“Pardon me if I can’t find appropriate thanks.”
“It’s the truth. When Johnny offered me money to play a few pranks and make a couple of calls, I agreed. I thought you would turn to me for help. I want to marry you,” he whined, but his fear was evident in the shifting of his eyes.
“Hell of a wedding present,” Sam muttered. “A sacrificial goat and a hurt little boy.”
“I didn’t hurt any of the kids! I wouldn’t do that. And I wasn’t going to kill the goat, either. I told Johnny that. He was crazy. He was so pissed off because of her husband, he could hardly think straight.”
“What does Matt have to do with anything?”
“Didn’t you know? He was sleeping with Duncan’s wife every chance he got.” Carter turned his gaze to Marly.
There had been a time, long ago, when those words would have hurt. Now, all Marly felt was annoyed.
“What do Matt’s sexual conquests have to do with me?” she demanded.
Carter shrugged, but he kept his wary eyes on Sam. “Duncan hated Matt. He hates everything connected with this place. He blamed your youth program for the fact his kids got into trouble last year.”
“Does he hate her enough to kill Porterfield?” Sam questioned.
Carter jerked in surprise. “No! Why would he do that? I thought you killed him.”
“Sam didn’t kill anyone,” Marly stated angrily.
Carter looked pointedly at the gun in Sam’s hand, his fear obvious. “Well, I sure didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Do you think Duncan killed Porterfield?” she asked Sam.
“What would he have to gain?”
“He’s a cop,” Carter protested.
“So am I, but you’re willing to believe me guilty of murder,” Sam pointed out.
Carter swallowed nervously. He looked at the gun, and his eyes shifted to Marly. “Look, this is all a mistake. I was just trying to help you, Marly. You have to believe me.”
Sam made a rude noise. Carter flinched. He wiped at a bead of sweat that trickled into his left eye.
“I figured if I could get you to dump the youth program you’d spend more time on the horse farm. I could build this farm into a showplace. I wouldn’t cheat on you like Matt did, and I wouldn’t be sidetracked by some outside job. We could have it all.”
“Pretty brave words for a man on the other end of a gun,” Sam said. But he had to admit that, though Carter was obviously scared, his words rang with sincerity.
“You really believed that?” Marly asked.
Carter’s eyes lit with hope. “Sure. We can still work things out. I can forgive you for sleeping with him—” he nodded in Sam’s direction “—and after he’s gone we’ll build the farm into—”
“You’re fired, Carter,” Marly told him.
His mouth dropped open in shock.
“Did you call the police when you realized we were here tonight?”
His eyes shifted restlessly once more as he struggled for words.
“Of course he did.” Sam uttered an oath. “Emma, have you got any rope or—”
“Those cords we bought to fix the drape rod should work, Emma. I’ll get them,” Marly offered, but Emma bustled away, returning minutes later with two packages of cord.
“Are you going to kill me?” Carter whimpered.
Sam handed Marly his gun without a word. “Keep it pointed at him. Squeeze the trigger if he moves. Hands behind your back, Carter.”
Carter swallowed hard, looking from one face to the other. “What are you going to do?” His voice cracked in fear.
“Truss you up and lock you in the bathroom,” Sam told him. “Now turn around.”
“I won’t.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to shoot you,” Sam said with an easy nonchalance.
Emma brought up her gun, stopping Carter’s forward motion.
“Hurry, Sam,” Marly urged.
Carter looked stricken as Sam bound his wrists with a speed that amazed her. All the fight seemed to have gone out of the foreman.
“Into the bathroom,” Sam ordered.
Carter cursed. “It won’t do you any good. You’re too late, you know. Duncan’s probably already here.”
“In that case,” Marly replied, “I’ll give Emma a raise if she shoots you before I do.”
“Sam?” Chris stopped them outside the bathroom door. “Someone just opened the front door,” he whispered, eyes wide with fear.
“Johnny D.! Back here!” Carter yelled.
Chapter Twelve
“Marly, get the others out the bedroom window.”
Sam gave Carter a hard shove, sending him sprawling into the small bathroom. As the door closed, Sam whirled around and Marly thrust the gun into his hand. She was already herding Chris and Emma into the bedroom. They could plainly hear the sounds of someone running in their direction.
Sam muttered a curse. With an apologetic look at the women, he fired the gun into the ceiling. The footsteps stopped. Everything stopped. Marly turned back to him with a shocked expression. Chris looked terrified. Only Emma nodded. She grabbed Chris by the hand and continued on into her bedroom.
“Go,” Sam whispered to Marly.
After a moment’s hesitation, she followed Emma.
“Carter?”
The voice that called out clearly belonged to Duncan.
“Stay where you are, Duncan,” Sam warned.
“Walker?”
Sam placed him inside the kitchen. If he was following procedure, he’d be standing with his back against the wall, outside the door, ready to storm the room.
“I’m armed, Duncan. Not an easy target, like Porterfield was.”
“What are you talking about? You killed Porterfield.”
“It won’t work, Duncan. Your buddy in here did some talking. We know all about your wife and the pranks and calls. Even the goat. With a little research, we should be able to nail you for Matt Kramer’s murder.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“You want to come through the doorway and find out just how crazy I am, Duncan?”
Sam yanked the overstuffed chair around, placing it between him and the bedroom door. From behind it, he could cover the hall if Carter left the bathroom and the main entrance to Emma’s apartment at the same time. All he had to do was sit tight and buy Marly some time. She would be smart enough to get Chris away and call for help.
“I’ve called for backup, Walker.”
“Really? Not your usual style, is it? You’re a hotdogger.”
Sam knew Duncan hadn’t killed Matt Kramer. Chris would have known if he was the cop at the scene that night. But Sam wasn’t so sure about Bill Porterfield. Marly might have been right. Maybe they were dealing with two different murderers.
“Look, Walker. What do you say we make a deal? I’ll let you go if you send your hostages out unharmed.”
Interesting.
“Why’d you kill Porterfield, Duncan? Did he catch you in the barn that night? Was it an accident?”
“You’re outta your mind,” Duncan snarled.
Well, he couldn’t dispute that comment at the moment.
“I thought it was strange when you showed up so quickly after we found the body,” Sam continued. He glanced over his shoulder at the bedroom. The window was open, and so was the gun case against the far wall. The bedroom itself was empty. He smiled in satisfaction.
“I was coming home from a poker game with some fellow officers when I heard the call,” Duncan said.
Duncan’s voice now sounded muffled. Sam knew his time was up. “Great alibi. Was Kramer sleeping with their wives, too?”
Sam stood, raced into the
bedroom, and climbed through the window. It was a short drop to the ground. He ran along the side of the house toward the front. Duncan’s cruiser was parked at an angle across the driveway. As he hesitated, Sam saw three shadows move inside it. Suddenly the engine started up.
With a dry chuckle, he ran around to the driver’s side. Chris beamed up at him as he slid inside.
“I saw his keys in the ignition,” he told Sam proudly.
Sam grinned. “Remind me to thank him later.”
Marly shoved something that looked suspiciously like a small automatic into the pocket of her skirt as he threw the car into gear and tore off down the driveway.
“Are you okay?” she asked before he could question her.
“Yeah. Sorry about the hole in your ceiling.”
“I’ll take damages out of your paycheck,” she promised.
Chris clambered into the back seat with Emma as Sam turned the cruiser onto the main road.
“Can we turn on the lights and siren?” Chris asked hopefully, leaning back over the seat.
Sam released another chuckle, and Marly turned to ruffle his hair.
“Much as I’d like to oblige, kid, I don’t think that would be wise at the moment. Maybe later.”
“Put your seat belt on, Chris,” Marly admonished. Then she turned to Sam. “Now what?”
“Now we turn ourselves in.”
“No,” Chris protested.
“It’s okay, kid. This time we’ll go to someone I can trust.”
“You trusted Lee,” Marly reminded him. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we go to Matt’s old boss? He’s a nice guy, and he’d be a disinterested party. I know he’d help us.”
“Is he married?”
Marly made a face.
“Sorry, love, but where your husband is concerned, I’m not real sure there are any disinterested parties around here. I can count on George to go by the book, even when he doesn’t want to.”
Emma made a soft grunt, and Sam saw her scowl in the rearview mirror.
“Look, gang, we’re fresh out of choices here,” he said in some exasperation. “At this point, we need protective custody. We’ve got enough information to send the investigators in several directions.”
Marly tipped her head, disbelief clear on her features. “Yeah, but will they look, or will they just grab you and be satisfied?”
“Not with Chris here to tell them what he saw that night. What do you say, Chris? Will you help us?”
Chris looked solemn as he snuggled up against Emma. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Thatta boy.”
The radio spat a stream of unintelligible words. Marly lifted her eyes in question.
“The dispatcher is requesting backup. Duncan phoned in and reported his car stolen.”
“Is he gonna get in trouble?” Chris asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Marly smiled and heard Sam cough to cover up a laugh. “So, where are we going? The Metro station again?” she asked.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t think so. I need to find a telephone.”
Silence radiated through the car.
Marly spoke slowly, picking her way through her tangled thoughts. “Sam, out of the hundreds of troubled inner-city youths, why would Porterfield send Chris to my program?”
Sam muttered something pithy under his breath.
“If this was a mystery novel, I’d put it down right now,” she continued. “There are too many coincidences for me. We know Porterfield didn’t kill Matt, right. Chris?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And we know Duncan didn’t kill him, either.”
Sam nodded. “It had to be whoever stole the stuff from the evidence room.”
“Or we’re dealing with separate crimes.”
“You keep saying that.”
“You don’t listen.”
“I’m listening, Marly. I just don’t necessarily agree with you.”
“Well, who does that leave us with, except Lee?”
Sam fell silent. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a tired gesture as they sped down the empty road.
“I’m tired of playing mouse to Lee’s cat Why can’t we have a turn being the cat?” Marly caught Emma’s approving expression as Sam flashed her a worried look.
“Now wait a minute—”
“Let’s go get him, Sam. Let’s turn the tables. Let’s get Lee, and beat the truth out of him, if we have to. Then we’ll call your captain. Your captain has to play by the rules, but we don’t. Not anymore.”
Sam braked for a red light and twisted to stare at her. His array of expressions was almost comical. “You’re serious.”
“Darn straight.”
Suddenly he began to chuckle, and the chuckle soon became a full throated laugh.
“Did I ever tell you you’re a bloodthirsty little thing?”
Marly lifted her chin. “Yes.”
“Smart,” Emma put in.
“She is that. Sorry, Emma. It looks like if we ever get out of this mess I’ll have to marry her instead of you.”
“Good.” Emma sat back with a smug expression.
“Ha!” Marly said, conscious of the sparkle of excitement dancing through her stomach at his words. “What makes you think I’d have you?” He was only teasing, but the image hung in tantalizing clarity. Was she crazy? She was never going to get married again.
“I want to go beat up the bad guy,” Chris announced.
“No way,” Sam insisted. “We are not going after a probable murderer. We’re going to get smart and do this by the book.”
SAM RUBBED HIS EYES and stared through the glassedin lobby doors of Lee’s apartment building. He watched in resignation as Emma strode up to the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk stepped forward to greet her.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Sam muttered.
“Emma will be fine.”
“I don’t even remember for sure that Kathryn is the first name of Lee’s aunt.”
“It doesn’t matter. Lee will either tell the guard to send her up, or he’ll come downstairs to see who Emma really is, and she’ll tell him you’re waiting outside with Chris—”
“And he’ll tell the guard to call the police.”
Marly shook her head. “With a cruiser sitting right here in plain sight? I don’t think so. He’ll come out here to investigate. You know he will. You said he would.”
“I’m exhausted. I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. This is a stupid plan. It will never work.”
“Of course it will work.”
“I must be out of my mind.”
Emma left the desk and headed back outside alone.
“See?”
Marly didn’t respond.
“Not there,” Emma announced, getting back inside the squad car.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s probably out looking for us.”
“Does this mean we don’t get to beat him up?” Chris asked.
“It means we do things my way,” Sam told them.
“We can wait until he comes back.”
Ignoring Marly’s suggestion, Sam started the engine. “I’m calling George and turning all of us in.”
“Are they gonna throw me in jail?” Chris asked in a troubled voice.
Marly turned quickly to reassure the boy. “Of course not, honey. The police will only ask you some questions. You have to tell them the truth. Then they’ll keep you safe until they arrest Lee.”
Sam’s brows raised cynically, but before she could remonstrate with him, Chris said, “I wish all cops were like Sam.”
“Me, too,” she agreed.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, kid.”
Marly frowned at Sam. “Most cops are good, caring people, honey.”
“My brother says you can’t trust nobody.”
His brother was probably wise beyond his years.
“We’ll just have to trust my captain,” Sam stated. “Let
George set a trap for Lee.”
“I don’t trust George,” Marly protested.
“You don’t know George.”
“He’s a cop.”
“So am I. Despite this situation, didn’t you just tell Chris most cops are the good guys?”
“Intellectually, I know that. The reality is, like Chris, I don’t trust anybody associated with you right now.”
“I’m too tired for this argument.”
When Sam turned onto a residential side street, Marly tried to uncurl her fingers. He pulled into a parking lot behind a church, drove down to the bottom of the lot and backed the car against a line of bushes and evergreen trees. They were in the darkest corner of the parking lot, facing outward.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping the car out of sight. There’s a pay phone on the corner. I’m going to call George to pick us up.”
She placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you sure about this?”
“Nope. But I think we’re out of options, unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“None you want to hear.”
Sam leaned over, tilted her chin and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “It’ll work out. You’ll see.”
His hand stroked her cheek in a soft caress that brought a film of moisture to her eyes. She wished she could still believe in happily-ever-after endings. She watched him walk away with that long, sexy stride of his and felt an overpowering premonition of danger.
Chris yawned and Emma drew him against her body. She smiled at Marly and settled back against the seat, closing her own eyes. The stress factor was taking its toll. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe they were all too tired to think straight.
Minutes ticked past. Both Chris and Emma looked asleep. Marly shut her eyes, as well, and leaned her head back against the headrest.
Sam opened the car door a few minutes later, and Marly nearly screamed in surprise. “We’re all set,” he said quietly. “Hey, take it easy. Were you sleeping?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
He turned on the ignition, and the radio crackled to life. Sam listened closely, then relaxed and turned the volume down low. He must have seen the question in her eyes, because he gestured toward the radio. “I want to make sure George doesn’t decide to call for backup. If a call goes out or they switch to another frequency, I’ll know we’re being set up.”
Man Without A Badge Page 19
