Finders Keepers Losers Die

by Carolyn Scott

  "What about robbery?"

  "Not for me, Cat. The job with Lou taught me that. I couldn't spend twelve years locked up." He grinned like a schoolboy. "But I couldn't resist lifting a few dollars from the petty cash tin. Thanks to Tanya, it was easy. She was just as lazy as you, but ten times dumber."

  I groaned. "Now I feel bad for accusing her."

  "Don't. She hates you."

  No shit.

  Funny. I'd never had such an in-depth conversation with Carl before. We'd exchanged words, but never really talked. But having a deep and meaningful didn't change the fact he was an asshole with a few screws loose.

  "So what happened to your brother and his family?" Keep him talking, just keep him talking.

  "Huh?" He rubbed his eyes and blinked at me. "Oh, he got out and ran off with his parole officer. His wife married an insurance salesman and now they're rolling in it. The kids even go to a good school."

  So the moral of the story is, crime does pay, but only if it's not your crime. "Give me another drink."

  He held the bottle to my lips and I coughed as whisky hit the back of my throat.

  "This would be easier if you unlocked the cuffs," I said.

  "Nice try, Cat, but no can do. Keep drinking." He belched loudly and patted his stomach.

  "Okay by me." I drank again. "But you might as well satisfy my curiosity since you've gone this far."

  "Curiosity killed Cat." He giggled so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

  "Why did you kill Lou if you needed his key?"

  His laughter died. "That was a bit premature. When I saw Roberta at the office, I guessed she was really after the money. It was a piece of luck that she found my business card among Lou's stuff. Anyway, after I saw her, I went to Lou to get him to hurry up and get the money out before she got to it through you.

  "But he tricked me. He didn't trust me. He thought I didn't want to split the money and I was going to double-cross him. So he lied about where the key was and I killed him before I checked it out." He shrugged. "He was right. I did want to double-cross him. I found out that safety deposit boxes with two signatories only need the signature of one of the parties if the other dies. But I needed both keys and the entire box number, obviously. Anyway, turns out the key and number weren't where he said."

  He pointed the bottle at me. "Do you know, he thought you were involved? He thought you were my girlfriend because we worked together. Then when Roberta came to you, he was convinced we were all trying to dupe him. Just goes to show what a stupid bastard he was. The world's a smarter place without him."

  "But Roberta didn't specifically want me. She only came to Knights when she found the old Sinclair's business card in Lou's things, like you said."

  "Yeah, but he didn't know that."

  "So that was your card, not Dad's?"

  "Will hadn't got around to changing them until a couple months after I started. I visited Lou in jail and left it for him so he knew how to contact me in case he decided the money was too hot in the deposit box and wanted me to go get it. Wishful thinking."

  "So you told him about Roberta hiring me. That's why he started following me! Before he died, I thought I saw his car outside the office."

  Carl nodded. "Yep. He thought you were the weakest link."

  "But later, when you saw I'd found the box, why didn't you come after it then? Why follow me around?" I shook my head which didn't help ease the ache. "I don't get it."

  He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Cat, you're smarter than that." He waited but I said nothing. "Okay, I'll explain. Yes, I knew you'd found the box and was almost certain the key and number were in there. But, you see," he pointed the middle finger of the hand that held the bottle at me, "I didn't know which bank to look in. I was hoping you'd find that out for me. Since you had a link to Roberta, I thought she'd tell you."

  "But you didn't want me to give her the number. In fact, you encouraged me to hand it over to you." I remembered all the times he'd offered to help, and all the times he'd tried to scare me into giving it up to him—the fire, the near hit-and-run. "Why?"

  "I wanted you to give the key to me, not Roberta. I only wanted you to get the bank details out of her. And I tried to help you because I thought two heads were better than one. I thought scaring you might encourage you to come to me, trust me."

  "Guess you don't know me as well as you thought."

  He looked at me for a long time then said, "What you don't know is, I convinced Will many times not to take you off the case." He stretched out his legs and put one arm behind his head, leaning back into it. "Ah, he'll be cursing himself when he finds out I was the danger all along."

  Out of instinct, I tried the bonds again. No use. "I really will give you the number," I said. "I love Mom and Gina. I don't want them hurt. I know you'll follow through on your threat, Carl. I've learned that much today."

  Our gazes locked for a beat before I looked away. I couldn't stare him down. His eyes were too clear and colorless, like shallow pools over hard, rocky ground.

  "Tell me where the key and number are," he said again.

  I shook my head then closed my eyes against the nausea the movement produced. When I opened them again, he was smiling at me.

  "You're drunk," he said.

  I hiccoughed. "Just a teensy, tiny, incy, wincy widdle bit. Listen," I said, trying on a drunken yet serious face. "Showing you is my insurance. Besides." I looked around the cabin. "This place is scary and it's getting dark."

  "Little pussy Cat is 'fraid of the dark." He giggled.

  I giggled too, biting back the pain in my cheek.

  He stood and stumbled toward me. He fished the key out of his pocket and undid one of the cuffs. I threaded it through the bar and he re-locked it around my wrist again before I had a chance to stand. He jerked me up by the cuffs. I winced as pain spiked.

  "So who's more drunk?" he asked. "You or me?"

  "Don't you mean you, me or your twin?"

  He snorted a laugh. "I must be drunker."

  "But I'm seeing double."

  "I'm seeing triple."

  "You win."

  We walked together out the door to the car. Darkness had fallen and the trees seemed to lurk like sinister figures on the perimeter, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. I wondered if anyone knew about the cabin. Maybe Carl had mentioned it to Will and he was on his way. No, better yet, he was hiding behind one of the trees with a S.W.A.T. team.

  But no one jumped out and rescued me. Carl shoved me into the driver's seat, withholding the keys until he slipped into the passenger seat. I buckled up my seat belt and drove slowly along the path. I leaned over the steering wheel but the car still hit a few pot holes and swerved into the bushes. It wasn't easy with my hands unable to part more than a few inches and my senses dulled by pain.

  "Jeez, Cat, don't kill us."

  "At ten miles an hour?"

  He rested his gun on his thigh, pointed at me. Occasionally he rubbed his eyes or took another drink from the bottle. He didn't offer me any more. We drove in silence as I slowly back-tracked to the main highway.

  Even as we drove further away from the cabin, I still held hopes that Will would find me. But by the time I hit the highway, I knew I was completely alone. I felt it. If I was going to get away, I had to do it on my own.

  But I had no idea how to escape or even where to drive to. Eventually, I had to stop somewhere. Then I'd have to tell Carl the truth.

  And if he was angry at me last time, he'd be downright furious when he learned I'd lied to him again.

  CHAPTER 18

  When the glow of Renford appeared on the horizon, I knew I didn't have much time before Carl found out the truth and I became his next victim. I had to do something.

  He was a depressing drunk. Some people get friendly and exuberant when they have too much to drink—Gina and I fell into that category—and others close down the shutters and see the world as their enemy. That was Carl. He sat round-shouldered and morose beside me,
as if his only friend was the bottle in his lap.

  Until he finished it. He threw it out the window and it smashed on the side of the road. He turned the volume of the radio up but it didn't fill the tightly strung silence between us.

  I was all too aware of the gun resting on his knee and the drunken twitch of his limbs. At one point I thought—hoped—he'd fallen asleep, but no such luck.

  Occasionally he made a threat like "You better not be lying to me again, Cat." But mostly he said nothing, just watched me. At first I thought he stared because he was worried I'd jump out of the moving vehicle, but then I realized he was too calm. He simply watched and said nothing.

  I couldn't stand it any longer. I screwed up my face and placed a hand to my stomach. "Oh," I moaned.

  He ignored me.

  I pressed my abdomen again. "Oh, God." I bent over the steering wheel. "Ohhh."

  "Stop bullshitting me, Cat, you're fine."

  I shook my head but that really did make it hurt and my stomach lurched as a result. "I think I'm going to be sick."

  "Go on then."

  It was a challenge. You know how I love those.

  I'd learned how to cry on demand and act dead, but being sick on cue wasn't a skill I'd mastered. I had to improvise.

  I pressed my sore cheek and nearly fainted at the slicing pain. Nausea followed. I groaned and lost concentration. When Carl grabbed the wheel, I realized I'd swerved into the next lane.

  "Jesus, Cat, pull over. You're green."

  It was too dark for him to see my color but the power of suggestion can be a wonderful thing. I stopped on the side of the road and got out. The temptation to make a run for it was so strong I nearly took off into the woods, but common sense won out. Running would only get a bullet in my back.

  I moved away from the car. Carl followed and scanned the bushes. Two vehicles whizzed passed but I didn't dare flag them down. I lurched to the left a few paces and bent over. I squatted on my haunches and emitted a cacophony of sounds I hadn't made since the morning after an all night bender with Gina on her twenty-first birthday.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carl's shoes take a step backward then I heard the sound of unzipping followed by a trickle. He was peeing only a few feet away.

  Perfect. Gross, but perfect.

  I grabbed the arm-sized branch I'd deliberately knelt next to and with all my remaining strength and speed, I swung it at his legs.

  He cried out and his knees buckled. He flapped his arms to regain his balance. I struck again and he fell to the ground. I stood on his arm. Instinctively his hand opened and the gun fell out. I kicked it away. He roared in pain and anger and tried to toss me off but he was weak, especially after I hit him again. He groaned loudly and went still.

  Bright lights momentarily blinded me as a car stopped beside Carl's sedan.

  "Hey, what's going on here?" yelled the driver.

  "Have you got a phone?" I asked.

  "Yeah. Why?"

  "Call the cops. Then come over here and help me get out of these." I held up my hands and the metal of the handcuffs twinkled like tinsel in the headlights.

  ***

  By the time the cops arrived, the passerby and I had Carl tied to a tree, his fly still unzipped. When he regained consciousness, a string of curses and threats spewed from his mouth.

  I told the cops to call Scarface, and he and Stankovic took over when they arrived. Scarface took one look at my face and swore. "Christ, Will's going to go nuts when he sees you."

  That seemed to be the theme of the night. "I look that bad?"

  He drew me into his arms. He felt warm and solid and I didn't want to let go. Until Will arrived.

  "Did you call him?" I asked Scarface when the familiar SUV slid to a stop on the gravel.

  "He's been calling me every five seconds since he got your message. As if I didn't have enough to do."

  Will jumped out and ran to me, scooping me into his arms. His hug was a little too tight for comfort, but I didn't care. He was safety and familiarity, like a favorite blanket on a winter's night.

  But all that comfort and attention wasn't good for my new tough attitude. Much to my horror, I burst into tears against his chest. He brushed back my hair and rubbed my neck until my sobs subsided. So far, he hadn't said a word. When my tears eased and I drew away, he gently caught my face between his hands and looked at me.

  "Fuck," he muttered. It sounded innocent enough to anyone who didn't know Will. But I heard the edge to it. His body tensed and he glanced over my shoulder, then he marched over to where two cops held Carl between them. Without a word, he swung and punched Carl in the face. He would have done it again but Scarface intervened.

  "Whoa, big fella. You'll get yourself in trouble."

  Will rounded on him. I'd never seen him so out of control before. His stormy, dark eyes peered through the jagged spikes of hair hanging over his forehead. His lips were bloodless and taut. He looked like a fire-breathing dragon with a bad temper.

  "This is none of your business," he growled.

  Scarface rested a hand on his shoulder. "If it were just you and me," he said quietly, "I'd let you have at him, but it's not. Get a hold of yourself or I'll have to arrest you."

  Will shook him off like he didn't matter and wound up for another swing.

  "Will!" I grabbed his hands and rubbed my thumbs over them. The tightness in his body seemed to slip away with every stroke. "Take me home."

  The cops dragged Carl away and Scarface secured the scene. With a deep sigh, Will took my hand and led me to his car.

  Scarface lit a cigarette and blew out a long coil of smoke. "We'll need to speak to her."

  "Tomorrow," Will said.

  We got in his car and he drove me to the hospital. He said nothing the entire journey. He gripped the steering wheel as if he expected it to spin out of control any second. Briefly, I wondered if he was mad at me. Only common sense told me he was directing his anger towards Carl, and possibly inwards. It would be just like him to blame himself.

  The hospital discharged me after stitching up the cut on my cheek and the back of my head and wrapping my wrists in bandages.

  Will drove me to Mom's where she and Gina waited for us. They hugged me and cried and hugged me again. After I showered, Mom plied me with food and fussed over me as if I were still a child. It felt good and I soaked it up.

  "I can't believe it was Carl," Gina said, sitting beside me at the kitchen table. "How could I be so stupid not to notice?"

  "None of us noticed," I said. I glanced at Will. "He was a damn fine actor." And I was a poor judge of character. I'd got Carl wrong, but not only Carl. Will too, and even Tanya, not to mention Roberta and Grimes—although he was scum, just not a murderer.

  I explained the entire story, why Carl worked at Knights, how he'd tried to scare me into confiding in him and give him Lou's key, and finally how I'd escaped.

  "You're also a damn fine actor," said Gina with a wan smile.

  "Your Dad and I always knew you were," said Mom.

  "Dad? Funny, I don't remember hearing him say that."

  "He did. But he hated the idea of you choosing it as a career." She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "He did love you, you know. He just had a funny way of showing it."

  Will's phone rang and he went outside to answer it.

  "He sure did," I said. "If only Dad hadn't been so controlling, we might have gotten along better."

  "It was his way of taking care of you. Of us." Mom shrugged. "I was used to him, and I loved him in spite of his stoicism. Unfortunately, it just drove you away. You were too much like him. Too headstrong and independent."

  My gaze cut to Will out the window, talking on the phone.

  "He's a lot like your Dad," Mom said.

  "I know." I sighed. "And I think our relationship will end up the same way mine and Dad's did."

  "Maybe. But you're older now. It doesn't have to be the same." She stroked my hair. "Once Will learns he can'
t control you, he'll be fine."

  "That's the problem. I don't think he'll ever learn."

  "If he loves you, he will."

  "And he does," Gina piped up. "To the point of obsession."

  "Obsession?" I shook my head. "He's too old for that. Young men obsess over women. There's a big age gap between us don't forget."

  "Trust me, next time you're over at his place, take a look at his DVD collection. He's got everything you were ever in."

  "Really?" Wow! Some of those movies were really bad too. No one with any taste would spend money on the DVD version. "But—"

  Mom held up her forefinger. "Stop making excuses and go out there."

  I knew when I was outnumbered. I joined Will on the front porch as he hung up. The sun peeped over the horizon, bathing the street in an ethereal yellow glow. Suddenly I felt exhausted. I wanted to curl up in bed and sleep all day and all night.

  With Will.

  I wanted Will, and not just sexually. What a surprise.

  "That was Forde. He'll come past later and take down your statement."

  "Will?"

  He touched my patched up cheek with his fingertips. "Yeah?"

  "Be with me when he does. I want you to hear everything. There's probably some stuff you need to know about Carl."

  He half turned away as if he didn't want to hear it. Then he must have thought twice and looked at me again. "Like the embezzling?"

  "You knew?"

  "I guessed. Tanya was pretty adamant it wasn't her, and when I got to thinking about it, I realized she wasn't smart enough to cover her tracks. And the tracks were well covered. If it hadn't been for you, it would never have been discovered."

  "So I'm not that bad after all?"

  He smiled. "You're the best employee I've got."

  I was his only employee now. "Gee, thanks."

  "But I should have known it was Carl all along." He shook his head. "Christ, I knew he wasn't the good guy he always pretended to be."

  "How?"

  He drew in a breath and blew it out in a measured dose as if he didn't want to elaborate. "He had an affair with Tanya while she and I were still going out."