It’s what any brother and sister would do.
Phin found the expressway, riding the shoulder and passing cars while squinting against the wind. I figured our best shot was setting up Phin someplace elevated, far enough away that she wouldn’t see him. We’d never finished zeroing out his scope, but hopefully he’d learned enough in our brief tutorial that he’d be able to compensate.
If not, Harry and I were dead.
And, surprisingly, I realized I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live a long, happy, fruitful life, as something other than a cop. I wasn’t sure what yet. While lying in my holding cell, I actually toyed with the idea of opening up a bar, maybe with some pool tables. With a name like Jack Daniels, how could it lose?
But now I could lose. I could lose a future I never even dreamed I could have. And I was scared.
I tucked my head down and turned away from the wind screaming in at us, blowing my hair into Medusa snakes. If there was the possibility I might be killed, I needed to make a call first. I hit speed dial. She picked up on the third ring.
“Mom?”
“Jacqueline! You’ve got to come on a cruise with us! We’re having a fabulous time!”
Mom sounded loaded. Happy, but loaded.
“Mom, I want to tell you something. Something important.”
“Is it about your father? We bumped into each other at bingo. He told me he was gay. Can you believe it? I married a homo!” Mom laughed. “He never told me all of these years because he didn’t want to hurt me. What a sweet man. We’ve been having such a wonderful time together. Did you know he was at your wedding?”
“Yes, Mom. Glad you two made up.”
“There’s a senior social to night. We’re going to cruise men together. I’m letting him do my hair. He used to do that back when we were married. How could I have not guessed he was gay?”
“Is Dad there?”
“He just went to the bathroom. I wonder which one. You think it was the men’s or the women’s? We’re having such fun! They make a drink called a cherry bomb. We’ve been drinking them all morning. I wish you were here with us. The whole family together again. We simply must go on a cruise when I get back, if my liver is still working.”
More giggles. I closed my eyes. Last goodbyes were really goddamn hard.
“Mom, I need you to tell Dad that I love him. It’s important that he hears that. Okay?”
“I will, Jacqueline, but don’t you think you should tell him yourself? He told me you hadn’t said that yet.”
“I need you to tell him, Mom. And I love you too. And I…I want to thank you.”
“Thank me? What in heavens for?”
I choked up a little bit, then got it under control. “For raising me. For loving me. For being my hero. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and it’s been such an honor being your daughter.”
“You’re such a sweetheart. Have you been drinking too?”
“Just know that I love you, okay?”
“Okay, honey. My phone is dying, so I’ll call you later to night. If I don’t call, it means I’m getting lucky. Bye-bye.”
“Mom?”
The phone went dead.
I closed my eyes, letting the wind blow away the tears on my cheeks.
Then I reached into the backseat to check the rifles.
CHAPTER 54
“HEY! NORMA BATES! You’re the one who needs to cover up her face, not me.”
Alex sets down the blasting cap, walks to Harry—taped to his computer chair with a red velour pillowcase over his head—and punches where she thinks his nose is. His head snaps back and he makes a satisfying grunt.
“I thought we were clear, Harry. Every time you talk, I hit you.”
“If I answer, are you going to hit me again?”
Alex sighs. She has a good reason for keeping McGlade in the dark, but realizes she should have gagged him first.
“This pillowcase smells like monkey pee,” Harry says.
“Jesus, McGlade, do I have to cut out your tongue?”
“If you did, I could still make sounds with my throat. See? Wooooaaaaaaaaaoooooo!”
Harry continues to moan like a ghost, and Alex questions whether it isn’t better to simply kill him right now. Instead, she finishes hooking up the detonator and then gives Harry another punch in the face.
“If I take off your hood, will you shut the hell up?”
“I can’t make any promises. Your face is pretty frightening. I may scream.”
“You’re going to scream anyway,” Alex says, yanking off his hood.
McGlade opens his mouth, no doubt to make some smart-assed comment, but instead his eyes begin to wander around the RV. Alex has used every last bit of Lance’s explosives decorating the interior. It’s sort of like Christmas, except with dynamite, det cord, and PENO instead of tinsel, ornaments, and colored lights.
“Jesus H. Tap-Dancing Christ,” Harry says.
“Impressed?”
“No. I just forgot how ugly you are.”
Alex gives Harry’s cheek a not-too-gentle pinch.
“Don’t worry, Harry. You’re not going to die here. This is all for Jack. I’m taking you with me. We’re going to spend some real quality time together before I punch your clock.”
“I’ve got a question for you, Alex. And I’d really appreciate an honest answer.”
Alex waits.
“You’re a chick,” he says. “Do red velour sheets make you hot?”
Alex swings a leg over Harry, straddles his lap.
“Do you know what will make me hot, Harry? Using some pliers to peel all the skin off of your face.”
“But what about the sheets? They match those hooker boots you’re wearing.”
Alex gives Harry a peck on the forehead, then climbs off. His stupid jokes don’t bother her. He’s scared out of his mind, trying to use humor to cope. Once she starts drawing some serious blood, the joking will be replaced by begging. She was more impressed by how he found her than his current bravado. Tracking the cell phones through the SIM cards and a Bluetooth signal was clever. As soon as he told her, after a liberal application of the stun gun, she switched off her Bluetooth and call forwarding. Alex doesn’t want Jack to find her before she’s all set up.
She turns, going to check the bedroom one more time. That’s where the second Claymore is. But before she gets two steps away McGlade tilts his chair over, falling onto his side. He reaches out an arm—his fake hand had apparently been able to break through the duct tape—and hits the release button on the monkey’s cage door.
“Get her, Slappy! Like I trained you!”
McGlade points at Alex. The monkey leaps out of the cage, screeching like a hellspawn. Then he runs right past Alex, jumps through the side window, and tears down the street, disappearing into the distance.
Harry frowns. “There’s six hundred bucks shot to hell.”
“I think you paid too much.”
“It was him, or a gibbon with just one limb.”
“The gibbon couldn’t have run away.”
“Point taken.”
Alex checks her watch. Almost time to call. She hopes Jack is late, because Alex feels a little jumpy, and severing a few of Harry’s fingers would help take the edge off. She unclips her folder knife, thumbs open the blade.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t have my blowtorch handy this time. So it looks like we’re going to get blood all over your carpeting.”
“It was pretty much ruined anyway.” Harry’s voice is an octave higher. The fear is taking over.
“Which one should we start with? The thumb?”
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you take that knife and jam it right up your—Slappy! I knew you’d come back, buddy!”
Alex checks the window, and sure enough, the monkey is perched there, teeth bared. He slaps himself in the head a few times, giving Alex a pretty good idea of how he got his name.
“Attack, Slappy! Attack!”
&nb
sp; Slappy hops into the RV, screeches at Alex, then runs into his cage and grabs the sweater. Two seconds later he’s out the window again, dragging it behind him and running off into the distance.
“You really should have went with the gibbon,” Alex says, closing and locking the window.
Then she fishes out her cell phone to call Jack.
CHAPTER 55
“IT’S AN ABANDONED LOT,” Alex said. “On Old Higgins Road, just northwest of the airport. Look for the recreational vehicle.”
Old Higgins, I mouthed at Phin. Into the phone I said, “I want to speak to Harry.”
“He’s busy bleeding right now.”
“Put him on, or this isn’t gonna happen.”
A pause, then, “The whole place is wired to blow, Jackie. Get the hell away from—”
Another zapping sound, and McGlade crying out. The poor bastard.
“Two minutes,” Alex said, then hung up.
We made it to Old Higgins in ninety seconds, while I fussed with the walkie-talkies. The area resembled a war zone: crumbling buildings, overgrown lots, cracked concrete. Through some tall weeds, about a thousand yards away, I saw the Crimebago, as out of place as a beached whale.
Phin hit the brakes. I tried to find the words, tried to tell him that maybe I was wrong about us after all, maybe we should be together, but I wimped out and instead said, “Your last shots were too high. Aim lower. And compensate a little for bullet drop. It’s a much longer distance than you’ve tried before. Remember you’ve only got four shots. Wait for my signal.”
“What’s the signal?”
I considered it. “When I say Latham, let her have it.”
Phin nodded. His face looked pained.
“Be careful,” he said.
“You too.”
We stared at each other for a few more seconds. I shivered. Not from the cold. From fear.
Phin clipped the walkie-talking to his front pocket and reached for the door handle, ready to climb out of the truck.
Dammit, Jack. Say something.
“You know,” I managed to sputter, “a little while ago, I was going to try to talk you into still staying friends.”
Phin turned, looked at me.
“Is that how you feel now?”
“No. Now the only thing I want in the whole damn world is for you to kiss me like you mean it.”
He leaned over, his lips finding mine, his tongue finding mine.
I was sure he meant every second of it.
“Don’t die on me, Jack.”
I smiled at him, my eyes glassy. “Just try not to shoot me.”
He grabbed his rifle and climbed out of the truck, blending into the weeds. I crawled over to the driver’s seat, shifted gears, punched the gas, and headed for what ever hell Alex had in store.
I parked a dozen yards away. McGlade was in the parking lot outside the Crimebago, next to the side door, taped to his computer chair. Alex crouched behind him. She had a gun in one hand, holding it to Harry’s temple. The other held some sort of detonator, the wire trailing from it and into the open side door of the RV.
I made sure the radio was on, the talk button depressed, and hung it under my armpit, clipping it to my sports bra. The sweatshirt was loose enough that you couldn’t tell it was there. I hoped. Then I grabbed my gun and climbed out of the truck.
“Hold it! Drop the gun! Hands over your head!”
I let the gun clatter to the pavement.
“Raise your hands, turn in a full circle!”
I complied, searching for Phin when I faced his way. I didn’t see him. And then I had a really bad thought—did he grab the right rifle? If he took mine by mistake, the sights would be way off because they’d been configured for me. And with his bad elbow…
“Walk toward me slowly, Jack, keeping your hands raised.”
Her gun had switched from pointing at Harry to pointing at me. Right at my heart. Alex liked the chest shot. I felt a cold, dead spot where the bullet would hit if she pulled the trigger. It made me want to run into a corner, curl up fetal, and suck my thumb. I managed to get my legs moving, even though they felt like wet noodles.
“Stop there.”
She made me halt ten feet in front of her. Alex was an excellent marksperson, and at this distance she might as well have been holding the gun directly up my nose. She wouldn’t miss. Even if Phin fired on her. My only chance was if his first shot was a kill shot.
I didn’t hold out much hope for that. This plan was looking worse and worse. It would have been smarter to just drive up really fast and run her over.
“Let Harry go,” I said, with a lot more strength than I felt.
“I’m going to.”
“You’re going to?” Harry said. “My ass.”
Alex patted him on the head. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you eventually. But Jack and I are going to go away for a while. I’ll send you some pictures. Maybe you’ll even be able to recognize her, under all of the blood.”
I shook my head slowly, my eyes fixed on her gun. “I’m not going with you, Alex.”
“Yes you are. You’ll do what ever I tell you to do. You’ve given up, Jack. You’re a shell of your former self. I knew that when I saw you at Latham’s funeral.”
I tensed, waiting for the shot. It didn’t come. Was I in Phin’s line of fire? Or did he know that was Alex talking, not me?
Was the walkie-talkie even working?
Jesus, this plan sucked.
“Even if you kill both of us, I’m not going anywhere with you, Alex.”
“You can walk over here, Lieutenant. Or I can shoot out both your knees and drag you over here.”
“No you won’t,” I said. And the fear washed away, being replaced by cold, hard anger. “This is for Latham.”
The shot came from my left, plugging into the Crimebago only inches above Alex’s head. She reacted instantly, ducking down and diving inside through the door.
Phin fired again, his shot aimed at where she disappeared.
Save your last two, I thought, willing him to hear. Then, in a crouch, I ran toward Harry.
Phin fired again, apparently not hearing my telepathic message, his shot pinging into the side of the RV.
“Stop firing, you knucklehead!” Harry screamed. “The whole thing is one big bomb!”
I grabbed Harry’s chair—which thankfully was on coasters—and began to pull him back toward the Bronco. My thanks were short-lived. The parking lot surface was rough, uneven, covered in gravel. It would have been easier tugging him through mud.
“Dammit, sis, pull!”
“I’m pulling, McGlade! There are rocks stuck in the wheels.”
We’d only gotten halfway to the truck when gunfire erupted, coming from the RV. Bits of asphalt flew up from the ground, peppering my legs, making me fall. It felt like being hit with a birdshot. I clawed my way back to my feet, calves bleeding, and dragged McGlade another few steps.
“Try pushing me!” Harry ordered.
I thought about telling him to shut up, but every ounce of energy I had was being expended trying to get him away from the bomb. One of the coasters snapped off, forcing him off balance and making him tip onto his side. I let go, pitching forward, my legs screaming at me. I crawled back to Harry, meeting his eyes.
“Come on, Jackie. You can do it. We have to get farther away.” He grinned at me. “I ain’t heavy. I’m your brother.”
I thought—absurdly, considering the situation—that Harry had kind of a nice smile.
Then the Crimebago exploded, tossing us through the air like rag dolls.
CHAPTER 56
I OPENED MY EYES, stared up at empty sky.
A moment later, the sky wasn’t empty. There was a plane flying over me. A jumbo jet, so close I could almost touch it.
But I couldn’t hear it. All I heard was a dull, droning hum.
Then the pain hit.
My head felt like it had cracked open and was leaking. My arm was behind m
y back, twisted at a funny angle. My legs were on fire.
I blinked. Checked my head. No major leaks, but a helluva lump, and my stitches had opened up. My arm hurt, but didn’t seem to be broken. And my legs weren’t actually burning, just cut up.
I looked left. I was lying next to the Bronco, when I’d been several yards away from it before.
I looked right. The Crimebago was mostly gone, leaving a smoking crater where it had been parked.
The lot had become a debris field. Harry’s scorched sofa. Part of the Murphy bed, red velour sheets still clinging to it. Half a computer monitor. The top part of a bucket seat. A severed human leg.
I squinted at the leg. It wore jeans, and a red boot with a stiletto heel.
The boots Alex had been wearing.
“Told you I wasn’t going with you,” I said to the leg.
I sat up, the world spinning, making my stomach unhappy. After swaying a little, I found my balance and began looking across the landscape of detritus for Harry.
He was ten yards to my left, taped to the broken remains of the chair.
I crawled to him, wincing at a dozen kinds of pain, navigating bits of engine and a burning spare tire that stung my eyes and nose.
“McGlade…”
His eyes were closed, his face a mess of gore. But he was bleeding. That meant he was alive.
I wiped some of the blood off his face, and was horrified that his nose came off in my hand. I resisted the urge to drop it—maybe surgeons could sew it back on somehow. I turned his head down, so the blood dripped away and not into his lungs, and then checked his pulse.
It was strong. I might have actually smiled a little.
Harry coughed, wet and garbled.
“Jackie?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“I can’t…I can’t feel my nose.”
“It, uh, it came off, Harry.”
“Fuck me. Where is it?”
I held up his nose, for him to see. He grunted, and I realized he was laughing.
“You got my nose,” he said.
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