“You bastard!” Mary felt a surge of fury and slammed the brick squarely into his nose, hearing it crack.
His hands flew up reflexively. Blood geysered from his nose. He stumbled backwards, collapsed, and fell to the hard pavement, clutching his face.
Mary dropped the brick, picked up the gun, and aimed it at him. Neil was lying on his side in a fetal position. Blood spurted from his wound and ran in watery red rivulets over his face, making a horrifying mask. The gun had a lethal heft, but Mary was a lawyer, not a vigilante, and she needed answers that only Neil had.
“Who killed Fiona and why?” Mary shouted, keeping the muzzle pointed at his temple. “Why did you pay Lonnie to take the fall?”
Suddenly the blare of police sirens cut through the rain. Neil’s head turned away from her, and blood ran into his mouth, darkening his teeth. “I want a lawyer,” he said weakly, then closed his eyes.
“Neil, tell me!” Mary leaned over him and caught the faint ringing of a cell phone. On impulse, she flipped aside his jacket.
“No!” Neil’s arm flailed for the phone, but he was too weak to make contact.
Mary reached into his inside pocket, took his BlackBerry, and looked at its lighted screen, which read, RICHARD GARDNER. She pressed Answer and held the phone to her ear.
“Neil?” Richard asked, his tone tense. “Tell me it’s over.”
Mary felt heartsick. Richard had to be talking about Neil’s killing her. So Richard had to be involved in Fiona’s murder, in the slaughter of his own niece. Mary wanted to scream at him in revulsion, but she didn’t answer because she didn’t want to tip him off. He had the money to flee or even leave the country. So she pressed End and said nothing, but she was dying to say:
It’s not Neil, it’s Mary. And it’s not over. It’s just beginning.
Chapter Forty-eight
Mary hurried into the bustling Homicide Squad room at the Roundhouse, Philly’s Police Administration Building, with a uniformed cop who had taken her here from the scene. Her jaw hurt, and she felt shaken and wet, but she wasn’t about to delay giving Weber a statement. Neil Patel had been arrested at the scene and taken to the hospital, but Mary had declined treatment, for the time being. She was the only one who knew about Richard Gardner and she’d made sure that the cops bagged Neil’s BlackBerry, to use as evidence against him. Tonight’s attack had transformed her from lawyer to fact witness, and she prayed that her statement could free Lonnie Stall.
“We should’ve gone to the hospital first,” the cop said, for the umpteenth time. “This isn’t procedure.”
“I’m fine, I just need to see Chief Weber.” Mary scanned the large squad room, where detectives, staff, and uniformed cops hustled this way and that between cluttered metal desks, old desktop computers, and battered file cabinets. She didn’t see Weber. “She said she’d meet me here.”
“Wait here, I’ll find her,” the cop said, going ahead just as the door to one of the interview rooms opened and Weber emerged with a cadre of assistant district attorneys, all in suits from work.
“Chief!” Mary hurried after the cop, and Weber turned, her eyes flaring in alarm.
“Mary, My God, look at you!” Chief Weber came forward and gave Mary a brief hug. “You didn’t say you were injured, on the phone. You need to be seen.”
“I will, after we talk. Where can you take my statement?”
“In the interview room. Let’s go.”
Later, Chief Weber and two A.D.A.s took rapid notes on their legal pads and laptops while Mary told them in detail what had happened, from how Neil had delivered the check to the church, to how he’d tried to kill her, to what Richard had said to her on Neil’s phone. Weber asked her plenty of questions, eliciting the details with concern.
“So, Chief,” Mary said, when she was finished, “what happens now and how does it affect Lonnie Stall?”
“First, I’d like to thank you for the doggedness and determination that you showed in pursuing this case.” Weber set down her pen in a final way. “I can’t say that I expected the day to end this way, after our meeting this morning. You took me seriously, I’ll tell you that.”
“Thanks.”
“You risked your life, and as grateful as I am, please don’t do it again.”
“Okay.” Mary still wanted an answer to her question. All this talking was hurting her jaw, but she wasn’t about to stop now. “So what now? Do you go pick up Richard Gardner now and take him in for questioning? Will you offer him a deal to confess or will you offer Patel one, or play one off against the other? And regardless of who killed Fiona, doesn’t the fact that the guilty plea was bought and paid for mean that you reopen the Lonnie Stall case?”
“Not so fast.” Weber raised a palm. “It doesn’t happen that way. This is only the beginning of the investigatory work that has to be done, and it could take time.”
“Why?” Mary knew Weber was giving her the party line and didn’t understand why an innocent man had to stay in jail a minute longer than necessary. “Whether Neil or Richard killed Fiona, now we know that Lonnie Stall isn’t guilty. I don’t expect you to unlock Stall’s cell tonight, but at least tell me that you’ll reopen the investigation.”
“I can’t discuss with you the next steps we’ll take, and I know you will understand that that’s confidential.”
“Even after tonight?” Mary couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Weber’s expression softened. “We appreciate all that you did, and don’t think we don’t. You paid the price, and I promise you, the Commonwealth will reap the benefits of your efforts.”
“It’s not about me, it’s about Lonnie Stall. What benefits will he reap?”
“I understand that, and I’m on the same page. That’s all I’ll say. Obviously, this is a matter of utmost confidentiality, and since you’re not representing Lonnie Stall, don’t expect any updates, officially.”
Mary blinked in surprise.
“Yes, I know you’re not his lawyer. I’m smarter than I look.”
“But what about Neil Patel? Are you going to offer him a deal to give evidence against Richard Gardner?” Mary tried to guess their strategy. “I’m not asking as a lawyer, I’m asking as a crime victim. I have a right to know that, don’t I?”
“Yes.” Weber pursed her lips, their lipstick long gone. “Any deals offered eventually to Neil Patel in return for his testimony will be discussed with you, as his victim, but he isn’t talking. However, in connection with his attack on you, we expect to charge him tonight with attempted murder, aggravated assault, assault with a deadly weapon, and firearms offenses.”
“Good.”
“And it’s important you understand that at this point, Neil Patel has not been charged with Fiona Gardner’s murder. He is merely a person of interest, and that’s what I’m telling the media, when it starts circling. I’m not breathing a word about Richard Gardner, of course, and neither are you.” Weber arched an eyebrow. “We’re clear on that, correct?”
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and they all looked over. The door opened, and a detective stuck his head inside the room. “Gloria, you have a phone call.”
Weber recoiled with a frown. “Jake, I’m taking a statement here.”
“You’re gonna wanna take this call. It’s from a lawyer.”
“Patel’s?”
“No.” The detective half-smiled. “Richard Gardner’s. He wants to come in and talk.”
Chapter Forty-nine
Mary sat up on the examining table in the ER bay while the doctor finished typing into a laptop on a plastic standing desk. The hustle and bustle of the busy ER emanated from beyond the patterned curtain, which encased her examining room like a medical cocoon. She’d been so busy with the police and the doctors that she hadn’t had a chance to phone anyone. There were so many people to call that she didn’t know whom to call first. Her mind flipped through the possibilities. Mary could call Rita first, to tell her that she
’d found the real killer, but that the car was an accordian. Or Anthony, to tell him that she had an excellent reason for missing drinks. Or Judy and Lou, to tell them that Neil Patel and Richard Gardner were the bad guys, not Tim Gage. Or her parents, to tell them that they should positively, definitely, not turn on the TV to hear a story about her attempted murder. Or Bennie, to tell her that her new partner had cracked the Gardner case. Or Allegra, to tell her that she wasn’t as crazy as everybody thought. Or John and Jane Gardner, to tell them that their legal counsel was also their daughter’s killer. Or El Virus, to tell her that she wouldn’t be caught dead in that hideous wedding dress, even after a night when she was almost caught dead.
“Okay, Mary,” the doctor said, hitting a key on the keyboard. He rolled the standing desk against the wall, walked over to her bedside, and smiled pleasantly down at her. He was about thirty years old, had short, dark hair, and weary blue eyes behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You’re doing fine, but I’d like you to have an MRI and a neck X-ray and I’d like to admit you for observation until tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“How’s that jaw feel?”
“The Advil helped.”
“Good. I’m ordering it for you to keep the swelling down and help you rest tonight. Do you have any other questions?”
“No, but I should probably call someone and let them know I’m here.”
“Of course you should.” The doctor frowned. “Didn’t the triage nurse ask you who you want us to call?”
“I didn’t see the triage nurse. The police hustled me in pretty quickly.”
“My apologies, then. It’s the weekend, so we’re busy, but that was an oversight on our part.” The doctor slid a ballpoint and a pad from the pocket of his lab coat. “Now, who should I call? I’ll do it myself after I admit you and I’ll make sure to tell them your room number.”
“Can you call more than one person?”
“Big family, eh?” The doctor smiled. “I know how that goes, but we’re busy tonight and I usually call one, then they do a daisy chain.”
Mary tried to imagine a daisy chain that included both Jane Gardner and El Virus.
“Who’s your first call?” the doctor asked, waiting.
Mary thought a minute, and her heart answered for her.
Chapter Fifty
“Hey, honey,” Mary said, choking up when Anthony rushed into her hospital room, his dark eyes wide with alarm.
“Babe, what the hell happened?” He hurried over to the bed, sat down heavily, and scooped her up in his arms, rocking her back and forth. “My God, what happened? How did this happen? Who hurt you?”
“Aw.” Mary buried herself in the warmth of his neck, blinking away tears that caught her by surprise. The smell of beer and other people’s cigarettes clung to his oxford shirt, but she didn’t mind. “Were you out? Sorry I couldn’t make it.”
“Oh my God, who cares?” Anthony held her close to his chest, resting his cheek on her head. “I can’t believe this! I thought you were okay!”
“I thought I was, too.” Mary sobbed, but she sensed they weren’t talking about the same thing. She’d thought she was fine, having been installed in a nice private room after her MRI and X-ray, and she hadn’t realized she was upset until she saw him. Maybe that’s what love was, after all. It struck her that whoever you cry in front of, that’s who you love.
Anthony pulled back, his eyes filming as they searched hers. “Honey, somebody tried to kill you? Are you okay? What the hell is going on?”
“How did you find that out?” Mary wiped her tears, with a final sniffle. “The nurse didn’t tell you that, did she?”
“No she just said it was a car accident, not serious, and you’d been admitted. But there’s reporters outside, and it’s going to be on the news tonight.”
“Oh no, my parents.” Mary felt stricken. “I don’t want them to find out that way. I just got put in this room, and the phone and TV aren’t signed up yet. I don’t have my phone.”
“Don’t worry.” Anthony caressed her arm, his touch soothing. “I called your parents and told them you were in the hospital, and when I found out what the reporters said, I called them from the lobby and told them that, too. They’re up to speed.”
“Thank you so much.” Mary breathed a relieved sigh.
“They’re on their way with my mother and The Tonys, and I also called Bennie and Judy, who called Lou, Anne, and Marshall.”
“Thanks so much.” Mary realized she did have a daisy chain, after all.
“Now, what happened, and when did it happen? Your message said you were in a church.”
“I was.” Mary thought of how she wrecked Rita’s car and felt teary all over again. “Do you have a cell phone? Lonnie’s mother lent me her car and she’s expecting me to bring it back, and that’s the car I crashed. I have to tell her that she shouldn’t worry about the damage. I’ll pay for whatever isn’t covered.”
“Lonnie Stall’s mother? What were you doing in her car?” Anthony’s expression changed, and he frowned, puckering his lower lip with regret. “Wait, I forgot, your car got towed the other day. Honey, I’m so sorry. I should’ve gotten a parking space a long time ago. We’ll rent a space in the garage from now on, I promise. We’ll get two, or maybe five. Whatever you want, you got it.”
“It’s okay.” Mary smiled, touched, as Anthony reached into his back pocket and handed her a cell phone.
“Here, I’m so sorry, really.”
“No, I’m sorry, I was so caught up.” Mary accepted his BlackBerry, scrolled to the phone function, then realized she didn’t remember Rita’s cell-phone number, because it was in her phone. “Give me a second, okay?” She called information, got the church’s main number, and let it ring before it went to voicemail, when she left a detailed message for Rita and hung up. “I hope she gets that.”
“I’m sure she will.” Anthony gave her another hug and put out his hand for the cell phone. “You finished with that?”
“Yes.” Mary handed it back, then hesitated. “Wait a minute. I’d love to call Weber and see what’s going on at the Roundhouse. I have to believe she’ll reopen Lonnie Stall’s case now, but she wasn’t making any promises when she threw me out.”
“Really? That’s awesome!” Anthony’s eyes widened, and he handed her back the phone. “Do it. Make whatever calls you need to.”
“Thanks.” Mary took the BlackBerry and scrolled to the phone function again, then stopped short, having second thoughts. Weber would have to reopen the case, after what had happened at the Roundhouse tonight, and Mary didn’t need a call to confirm what she knew was inevitable. Instead, she looked up at Anthony, and when her eyes met his, an empty space in time was created, one that was filled not by phone calls, but by the depth of their connection and the love she felt for him. And in that moment, Mary eyed his handsome face, with his patient and loving expression, and she learned something she hadn’t known before. She set the phone aside, leaned over, and kissed him gently on the lips, then harder, with enough emotion to hurt her bandaged jaw.
“Wow!” Anthony grinned, startled, when the kiss was over. “What was that about?”
“Believe it, baby. You just got tongue, in a hospital room.”
“I know.” Anthony burst into laughter, a deep masculine sound that emanated from his chest, even his heart. “What did I do right?”
“Everything, and when we get home, you might get attempted-murder sex.”
“That sounds even better than partnership sex.” Anthony laughed again.
“Oh, it is. It involves the element of danger, plus a major felony.”
“Yowza!” Anthony lifted an eyebrow.
“Partnership sex is for lawyers. Attempted-murder sex is for badasses.”
“Listen to you!” Anthony grinned crookedly, reaching over and moving a strand of hair from her jaw bandage. “You’re a badass now?”
“Yes, I am. I hit people in the face with bricks. I’m a changed woma
n.” Mary felt momentarily proud of herself, which was all she was allowed. “At least temporarily.”
“I love you, and I love any woman you want to be, even temporarily.”
“I love you, too,” Mary said simply, and then she found herself adding, “And by the way, where the hell is my engagement ring?”
Anthony’s happy grin evaporated, and he looked at her with newly serious eyes. “You sure you want that ring? Any idiot can see that you haven’t exactly been psyched about getting married.”
Mary felt a lump in her throat, pained that she had hurt him. “That was before, but this is after, and after, I know how lucky I am.”
“MARY, MY POOR BABY!” came a shout from the doorway, then, “Maria, cara!”
“Pop! Ma! Everybody!” Mary called back, as her parents, The Tonys, El Virus, Anthony’s brother Dom, Bennie, Judy, Lou, Anne, and Marshall piled into the not-so-private room, filling it with hugs, tears, and contraband baked ziti, until everybody settled down, finding chairs, beds, and window ledges to sit on while Mary told them everything that had happened, editing out the scary parts so she didn’t give her favorite senior citizens a collective cardiac arrest.
“MARE, WE’RE SO PROUD A YOU!” her father said when she was finished, hugging her again, and Mary would have thanked him, but everybody talked at once, like an Italian happy ending.
“Si cara, ti amo!” her mother said, hugging her next in line.
“Mare, you did a great job!” Feet grinned, from his wheelchair.
“Mary, you’re the bee’s knees, get it?” said Tony-From-Down-The-Block, but nobody laughed.
“Maria, che magnifica, bravissima!” Pigeon Tony blew her a kiss.
“Mary, you’re the best daughter-in-law I could ask for!” El Virus said, tears in her eyes, and Dom looked over.
“You mean, ‘daughter,’ Ma. Mary’s a lawyer, and you gotta keep it legal.” Dom turned to Mary with a toothy smile. “By the way, great job, Mare. You did the Rotunno name proud.”
Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel Page 32
