Final Stand

by Helen R. Myers

  As though reading his thoughts, Jessie growled. She sat up and pushed her nose between the sheers to look outside, too. This time she growled louder.

  “Easy,” Gray murmured. “I don’t blame you for resenting his treatment earlier, but we have to be quiet for your lady.”

  As though understanding, Jessie came to him and nudged his hand with her cool, moist nose and then settled her chin on his knee. Gray considered the quiet caramel-brown eyes gazing up at him.

  “You’re a flirt, aren’t you?” He stroked her head and then rubbed her ears with lazy, soothing caresses.

  Pulling away, Jessie grew alert again, but this time looked toward the hallway. That’s when Gray heard the barefoot step he realized he’d been listening for since Sasha had retreated.

  She came to stand beside his chair.

  “Your biggest fan missed you,” he said as a greeting.

  Crouching, she set her gun aside and used her entire body to caress the dog. Gray understood her need to feel another pulse right now besides the one hammering in her head, he just wished he was the one she was reaching for.

  “Thanks for giving me the time,” she murmured at last.

  Her voice held a huskiness and congestion that suggested she was coming down with a head cold. Gray knew it was the result of the tears that hadn’t been audible through the closed door, or else still not shed.

  “You should take some more. You might have eventually managed some sleep.”

  “Not when all I see when I close my eyes is her.”

  “Sasha, chances are she was gone when they put her in that trunk.”

  “I wish I could believe that. And before…how long did they have her? Those last moments…she had to have seen that gun in her face, felt so alone.” Sighing, she retrieved the gun and tucked it behind her into the waistband of her jeans. “I should have been there with her.”

  Her steadiness sent a chill through him. Anguish, even hysteria, would be preferable to this. “Then you’d be dead, too. Maybe you’d have been first. Maybe she found some comfort in knowing they didn’t have you.”

  “More likely, they tormented her by saying they did, that I was gone and how they’d done it. The same as my father.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My father was trying to negotiate with the husband even as the chief and his men burst in. He was executed, not hit by accident. One of the officers told me so when I came to identify the body.”

  Once again Gray dealt with a jolt. “You did, not your mother?”

  “She couldn’t have survived that.”

  Dear heaven, Gray thought, she’d barely been more than a kid. And to lose both of them the same way…He pushed himself up from his chair. “I’m going to get us something to drink.”

  “No alcohol for me.”

  “I meant coffee.”

  While in the kitchen, he checked the door and windows before readjusting the miniblinds, then got a dog biscuit and carried the mugs back to the living room. Sasha rose from where she’d been petting Jessie, murmured her thanks as she accepted her coffee and parted the sheers to look outside.

  Gray gave the dog the biscuit and settled in his recliner. “It’s not a good idea for you to be standing there.”

  “Has Elias been back since?”

  “No.” Despite having questions, Gray couldn’t say he was sorry, either.

  “And it’s been this quiet?”

  “Except for the EMS ambulance that came and went.”

  “When was that?”

  “About an hour after you went to lie down.”

  “And how often has he gone out there like that to the road?”

  “This is the fourth time.”

  Sasha checked the mug halfway to her lips. “I’m going out to talk to him.”

  Setting down his own mug, Gray reached for his .9mm set on the floor on his right side. “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s what I need to find out.”

  Following her to the door, he laid his hand flat against it. “It’s too risky. We don’t know what’s out there.”

  “The dark is my territory, Slaughter. I worked nights.”

  And once upon a time he had occasion to as well. “Okay, but I’ll be right behind you.”

  31

  One thing Gray did insist upon and Sasha was grateful for it—shoes. She berated herself as they emerged from the house, though, taking her forgetfulness as a blunder. Errors killed. She couldn’t afford any more.

  The night air was almost tolerable except for the heat that rose from the baked earth. But dust from the day’s traffic hung in the air and stirred with the slightest movement. Before they’d taken a dozen steps Sasha felt it begin to line her mouth and throat. And with every step came the crunch and bite of gravel beneath their soles serving as sharp reminder that nothing was perfect, for while speed would have been hampered in bare feet, their shoes threatened to expose their presence.

  Out of precaution, Sasha angled toward the deeper shadows hugging the station, her gaze on Elias still out in the middle of the street. “Look at him.” She kept her voice low instead of whispering. “What do you want to bet in a past life he was at Little Big Horn?”

  “You believe in reincarnation?”

  Ten years ago, she could have said maybe…sometimes. But after tonight…? “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

  She eased between the wall and parked patrol car. The vehicle spawned her hushed query, “What’s this doing here?” At his shrug, she paused at the edge of the protective shadow and peered around the front of the building and down the street. Everything was as deserted as when she’d driven through here last night. Leaning her back against the cooling brick, she called a low, “Elias. Chief.”

  He spun around, fear fleeting but real on his angular face. However, the instant he recognized them, the cocky mask slipped back in place. Swearing, he strolled over to them.

  “You two are determined to push your luck. I could have drawn on you.”

  Since his hand hadn’t begun to move toward his holster, Sasha let the bravado pass, instead stepping back to make room for him in the protective darkness, whether or not he had the sense to take advantage of it. She stopped when she felt Gray’s solid body behind her, and welcomed the hand that came to rest lightly on her right hip.

  “Where’s your backup?” she asked, tilting her head to the other patrol car.

  “Kenny’s mother started having chest pains.” Elias rested a hip against the vehicle as though it was high noon and they had nothing but time to shoot the breeze. “Probably faking it, but he’s all she has, so I told him to get her over to Sonora. As for Cox—” he shook his head “—after he looked in that trunk, he turned in his badge and the keys to this honey.” He patted the hood. “He’ll miss it, and the free fuel.”

  His insensitivity aside, the news was worse than Sasha expected, but Gray was the one to voice her thoughts.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” he snapped.

  Elias pretended as though he’d just noticed him. “Look who’s feeling left dangling in the dark now.”

  “Hey.” Since a white flag wasn’t available, Sasha put her hands together signaling a time-out. Nobody would be served by an outright brawl, and it definitely wouldn’t get her the information she needed. “What about the county?” she continued. “They should have sent someone out here by now. Did their crime scene investigator arrive?”

  Once again Elias effected a posture of self-importance. “Can’t yet. He’s tied up back at their jail. Some dumb shit hung himself, only there are prisoners yelling that it wasn’t suicide. Sounds like quite the commotion over there, so Sheriff Gleason doesn’t have the manpower to spare. But he said he was calling in his off-duty people and would send out a couple guys as soon as he could spare them. That was over two hours ago.” He glanced around the building. “Guess they were delayed.”

  Yes, the most coincidental things happened and often more bizarre than in f
iction, but Sasha didn’t like the feel of what Elias reported. “What about the DPS?”

  “We can do without them.”

  Sasha must have made an involuntary move because she felt Gray’s fingers tighten on her hip. It was all that kept her from breaching professional boundaries. “May I ask how you figure that?” she asked icily.

  “Not how, why. I bring them in, and I lose my case like that.” He snapped his fingers. “No way am I taking back seat to those glory hounds. Bad enough I have to bring in the county’s deputies, but at least when they get here, I’ll be better staffed than I was before—unless Gleason’s a smart-ass and sends me two the size of Cox and with about the same thimbleful of brains.

  “One thing worked out smoothly enough, though. The EMS team came and left without incident. By the way, since I was already short one man and that chickenshit Pike refused to stand guard over the site—like he needed to worry anyone was hanging around waiting to be arrested—I collected what evidence I could from the vehicle for the crime scene investigator. Give him a head start.”

  Sasha could only imagine how grateful the detective was going to be. But that wasn’t what upset her the most. “You’re making a mistake if you think the men who killed my mother are gone.”

  “So where are they?”

  “Keep strolling out in the middle of the street and you may find out for us.”

  “Listen, you—”

  “I told you who you were dealing with,” she snapped. “You saw a sample of his brutality. Borodin isn’t going to be satisfied with a half-finished job.” She nodded into the night. “They may not be here in town this minute, but don’t for a second make the mistake of thinking they’re far away.”

  Not wanting to spend one more minute in Elias’s company than she had to, Sasha turned and, touching Gray’s arm to signal she’d had enough, they started back for the house.

  At least sweet-faced Kenny Plummer was out of harm’s way, she thought. She would have been concerned for his safety, his ability to cope. But there was no denying that losing him and Cox put Gray in increasing danger.

  “Hey, hotshot,” Elias drawled after her. “I phoned Vegas.”

  Sasha and Gray paused. While she knew she’d lucked out timewise with that side of things, and that if it was bad news, Elias would have rushed over and taken her into custody, her heart battered at her ribs anyway. She glanced over her shoulder and asked, “And?”

  “Your DC’s gonna have to get back to me. You think things are busy here, they’ve got an officer found dead at your precinct. Now this one definitely sounds like an execution.”

  Needing to hear more, Sasha retraced the few steps she’d taken. “Who? Did they say?”

  “Nope, and I didn’t ask, but the guy I spoke with did use the pronoun ‘her.’ That should narrow things down some, huh? You didn’t by chance phone in some IOU and have that aide bumped off, did you?”

  His snicker followed Sasha back to the house. She was grateful for Gray’s hand at her nape, and conscious of his concerned gaze, but she wasn’t prepared to talk yet. He gave her until he had the front door locked behind them. He returned from the kitchen with a refill of coffee.

  She used the time to reassure a relieved Jessie, who’d been whimpering at the window. She tried to get the dog to go outside for a nature call. The stray refused, going so far as to hide behind the couch.

  “She’s still running a temperature now and then,” Gray said, passing over her mug. “Probably burning up whatever liquid she takes in. I think she’ll be safe for a while yet. What about you?”

  “It’s a little late for you to ask, but I’m housebroken.”

  Gray didn’t smile. “I know Frank tried to push every button he could.”

  “I can live with that. It’s his tendency to bite off his nose to spite his face that worries me. He needs help, only he’s either too dumb or too proud to ask for it.”

  “Well, he’s no great fan of the Times’ crossword puzzle, and he’s never pretended to subscribe to Playboy for the articles. I told you, he was what Bitters could afford.” In a gentler voice he asked, “You think it’s her?”

  “Gloria Carney?” Just saying her name left a bitter taste in Sasha’s mouth. “Must be.” She returned to the far side of the picture window, leaned her left shoulder against the wall and gazed through the sheer draperies toward the street. But all she could envision was what Melor’s idea of “execution” had been this time. “Poor fool. What was she thinking? Once Borodin silenced us, did she really believe he would need her anymore?”

  Gray didn’t return to the recliner, settling instead on the edge of the coffee table, which actually put him closer to Sasha. “Where do you suppose his men are?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t even be sure there are only two at this point. There’s been plenty of time and opportunity to have called in help by now.”

  “That’s what I was afraid you’d say. Any other good news?”

  “I’m not saying I believe they have, but I’m guessing they’re maintaining tight communications back and forth to Vegas. How do they manage that when our wireless phones couldn’t keep a signal? It’s a bit more problematic than driving in to use the pay phone by the convenience store.” The mention of that reminded Sasha of her attempts to contact her mother earlier. Had her mother been dead at that point? They’d been so close it seemed impossible that she hadn’t felt…something.

  “Stay in the present, honey,” Gray said, clearly picking up on her train of thought. “What’s to stop Borodin’s henchmen from breaking into somebody’s house or business, virtually anyplace that affords a view of Main Street, and using the phone there?” He scowled into his mug. “Break in, hell. Too many people here still don’t bother locking their doors.”

  Sasha nodded, having guessed as much herself. “Elias may be right this time. They could have cut their losses and left. There’s been no sign of the Suburban, and these guys tend to be hit-and-run strategists. The last thing they want is any confrontation with the law.”

  “You think it’s possible Borodin could cut his losses and let you go?”

  Sasha recalled the look on his face the last time she’d seen him, blood streaking down his cheek from the key she’d raked across it, those hazel eyes for once not laughing or mocking.

  “Sasha.”

  She could only shake her head in the negative.

  “Then let’s call the FBI ourselves. We don’t know if Sheriff Gleason did send anyone out here. I told you there’s no love lost between his office and Frank. Unless the EMS technicians spoke to Gleason or a deputy and confirmed the seriousness of our situation, he’s probably more preoccupied with the potential scandal going on at his home turf.”

  “Call the FBI with what?” Sasha asked. “I have a wild story that’s technically my word against Borodin’s.”

  “You’re a cop.”

  “Who Borodin has set up to look like a junkie.” Sasha gestured outside. “All of my proof is in ashes, if not mangled or at least contaminated by Elias.”

  “You had some evidence?”

  “When my mother first confessed what was going on, I told her to document as much as she could. It was all in that bag charbroiled on the floorboard of the car.”

  “Let’s go back and ask Frank to see what he retrieved.”

  “No way. I saw the condition it was in. A lot in there was handwritten notes, so what the fire didn’t get, the water—Look, the fewer people who touch the bag the better. Besides, if I told Elias there was important data in there, he would finish turning it into garden compost wanting to see for himself.”

  Gray’s look held increased respect and concern. “You’ve been hit with a lot this evening. Maybe you should try to rest a bit more. I’ll keep watch.”

  “I appreciate that, but I don’t have the luxury of just mourning my mother, Slaughter. The cold fact is that my one witness is dead, and if Borodin’s men don’t get me—and God forbid anyone else in the process—there’s
a good chance I could be looking at hard time, while he moves on to his next scheme. And how long do you suppose I’d last in prison with or without the threat of him? You know cops are always vulnerable there.”

  Gray set down his mug, and resting his forearms on his knees, rubbed hard at his face. “Damn it. How could your mother fall for such a snake?”

  “I told you. He’s whatever he needs to be to seduce.”

  “But after your father…”

  Sasha sent him a sidelong look. “You of all people should understand that desire has nothing to do with what’s in the heart. She never pretended Borodin was a replacement. In fact, just the opposite. She was haunted by guilt believing she was betraying my father somehow, even though by then he’d been gone almost eight years. From there she swung to embarrassment because Melor was considerably younger. But…she had needs, emotional as well as sexual, only amplified because my father had spoiled her so.”

  The past and its wounds were still too close and raw for her, and she had to clear her throat and take another sip of coffee to fight back the paralyzing tightness in her throat and the burning in her eyes.

  “I shouldn’t probe,” Gray said. “And I have no right to judge. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” Despite the heat wave outside, the searing sting of the hot coffee helped. She might as well be back in Minnesota, she felt so cold inside. Regaining her control, she tried to explain who her mother had been. “Did you ever read Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina?”

  He offered a crooked smile. “Sorry. I’m more the Tom Clancy, Michael Crichton type.”

  “I meant maybe back in school. No matter. The thing is that I saw parallels between Tolstoy’s Anna and my mother. Both were prone to melancholia and neurosis. Both had been adored and pampered, which undoubtedly fed rather than addressed their neediness. Not that my father ever minded. He’d seen some of the struggles she’d endured in her home country, recognized the culture shock as she settled with him in the States and felt guilt himself for having taken her away from her only blood relations. He always felt a strong responsibility to compensate for that.