Dark Ambition (58 page)

She punched her fists against his chest. "How did you think I was going to make the calls? I have two little kids. I can't just leave them by themselves. I should have told you to call Alexandra and Gwen yourself. Killing Winthrop was your idea. I never even met that man."

"Don't be a goddamn moron. I explained it to you six times. If Winthrop told the President about us, we could have kissed it all good-bye. Our dream together."

"Big fucking deal," she cried. "Right now our dream's been flushed down the toilet."

"Oh, forget it," Slater said, exasperated. "I'm leaving. This isn't why I came to see you. Call me if you come to your senses."

He was about to walk away when she caught the lapel of his coat. "Don't go. I'm sorry, Jimmy." She was almost whimpering. "I shouldn't have said those things."

At last he smiled and kissed her. "Don't worry. I'll always take care of you."

In a quiet voice, against his cheeks, she said, "Then you've got to talk to your friend, the President, and get the cops off my back so they won't prosecute me. You can do it."

He jerked back away from her. "It's not possible," he said in a hard voice. "And don't ever fucking ask me again."

"You dirty bastard," Theo replied, equally sharp. "Either you get me immunity, or I'm going to testify against you and that monster Gwen. I'm going to bring the two of you down to save myself. I can do it. You watch me. You'll both fry."

Slater laughed at her. "For sure you'll be able to bring down Gwen, because the two of you plotted Winthrop's murder, but you can't touch me. I've covered all of my tracks. You'll never even be able to establish we had an affair. You keep your mouth shut, or you and that psychopath witch will fry."

Slater's taunt made Gwen explode. With gun and rope in hand she burst out of the maintenance room and advanced toward Theo and Slater. They were too stunned to speak. While Theo watched in horror, Gwen went directly to the microphone Theo had planted on the statue base. She ripped it off and hurled it onto the grass below.

Then she turned to Slater. "I'm Gwen. Here, let me show you what a psychopath witch can do."

She kicked him viciously in the balls. He made a choking grunt of pain, then toppled to the ground.

Pointing the gun at Theo, Gwen tossed her the rope. "Tie his ankles together and tie his wrists with his arms above his head," she barked.

* * *

In the van they weren't hearing any more sounds from the recorder.

Jennifer was alarmed. "What's going on?"

"Theo must have moved away from the microphone," Traynor said.

"Let's get over there," Ben snapped. "It doesn't matter if Gwen didn't show. We've gotten all we need to nail Slater. Let's close up shop."

Traynor shouted, "Move it," to the driver of their van. Then he told the driver of the second van to remain in place. There was no need for an army at the memorial with just Slater and Theo. Likewise, he told the chopper to remain back for now.

* * *

In the memorial chamber, as a shaking Theo bound Slater's ankles and wrists, Gwen sneered at him. "You're not pinning this on me. You were responsible for the whole thing."

"What do you want?" he pleaded. He was still doubled up in pain, lying on his back, his arms and legs tightly bound. "I'll give you anything."

"What a gutless wonder you are," she said, disgusted. "You know what I want? Your manhood. That's what I want."

Gwen turned to Theo. "Pull down his pants. His shorts, too."

"Oh, Jesus, no," Slater cried.

"Do it, you cunt."

With trembling fingers, Theo complied. Slater's shriveled penis looked pathetic exposed in the cold air.

Gwen took a stiletto from her jacket pocket and pressed a button, springing open the blade. She handed it to Theo.

"Cut off his dick," she ordered. "Then toss it down in the bushes. After that, his balls."

Theo didn't move. Her hands were quivering.

"Do it now, cunt, if you want to stay alive. If not, I'll kill you and do it myself."

As Theo bent down, tears coursed down Slater's face. "Oh, God, please. Not that. I'll give you anything."

On the road below, the van roared to a stop. That was the signal for all of the lights to go on in and around the memorial. Traynor jumped out of the van with a bullhorn in his hand. "Jim Slater and Theo Fulton," he called. "Walk down the stairs slowly, with your hands in the air."

When nothing happened the sharpshooters scrambled out of the green booths and took up positions behind the van. Traynor and Campbell cautiously started up the steps, guns raised, weaving from side to side, with Ben and Jennifer behind.

Up in the memorial chamber, Gwen grabbed the stiletto from Theo. She aimed it for Slater's balls, but as she noticed Theo running away, her eye jumped and she missed, driving it into his abdomen instead. He screamed in agony. Gwen snapped off a shot at Theo, taking cover on the other side of the statue, and Theo went down. Gwen didn't have time to see if she'd killed her.

Gwen heard a rifle shot from one of the sharpshooters below and ducked behind a marble column at the top of the stairs. From that vantage point she saw Traynor and Campbell, with Ben and Jennifer behind. She didn't want to expose herself to the sharpshooters, so she couldn't get a clear shot on the four figures moving up the stairs.

She decided to wait until they reached the top. As Campbell and Traynor appeared, she fired out a burst, which echoed loudly in the chamber. One of her shots nailed Campbell in the leg. Another got Traynor in the shoulder. Both men went down. That left Ben and Jennifer. She waited, but they didn't appear. Where the hell were they? Gwen wheeled around, looking for them.

As Jennifer saw Gwen turn, she hurried to the back wall of the chamber before Gwen spotted her. Alerted by the gunfire, she had run across the steps to the other side. But where could she hide? There had to be a small space between the back of the statue and the wall of the chamber. Had to be. There was no other place for her to go.

There was a space. And it was narrow.

Standing upright, sandwiched in that space, Jennifer clutched her pistol tightly, her heart pounding. What am I going to do now? she thought. I'm no match for her with that machine gun of hers.

To the right, she heard Theo moaning in pain. Jennifer wanted to go help her, but she didn't dare move. She stood still and held her breath. All she had now was the element of surprise.

Suddenly she wondered: What happened to Ben? Had Gwen shot him? Was he hiding?

More shots from the sharpshooters rang out, ricocheting from the column Gwen was behind. Peeking out, Jennifer watched as Gwen reached into her jacket pocket, took out a grenade, and pulled the pin. She threw it down at the van behind which the sharpshooters were taking cover. In another moment the van exploded, sending a large ball of fire into the sky.

In horror, Jennifer watched as Gwen spotted Ben cowering in a corner of the chamber next to the door of the gift shop, breathing heavily from the climb up the stairs.

"Get over here fast," Gwen barked at him.

When Ben stood frozen to the spot, she fired a warning shot over his head. He had no choice but to obey. Slowly, he walked over to her, stalling for time.

She backhanded him hard in the face. Gliding behind him, she looped her arm around his neck. She raised the gun in her other hand until the barrel was pressed hard against his cheek. She had no intention of dying in the electric chair. Keeping Ben in front of her, she started down the stairs.

It's up to me, Jennifer realized. If I stay here, Ben will be killed.

She couldn't let that happen.

Gwen was walking slowly down the center of the first group of twenty marble stairs, making certain that any other law enforcement people on the scene saw Ben and the gun held to his face.

Jennifer moved to the top of the stairs on the tips of her toes. By the time she could look downward, Gwen had reached the first small landing. She's too far away, Jennifer worried. I'll only have one shot. If I miss, we're both dead. Despite the cold, her hand holding the gun was sweating and clammy.

Jennifer waited until Gwen was about to descend the next group of thirty steps.

She dropped to one knee, took aim, and fired. The center of Gwen's back exploded with blood. Her arms flew out to the sides. Freed from her grasp, Ben fell to the side, catching himself before he tumbled down the stairs.

Not Gwen. Still clutching the gun in her hand, she rolled down, hitting the steps one after another like a rag doll. At the bottom she summoned all of her energy to raise her gun one more time. Her face was contorted in a grimace of hatred. She had Jennifer dead in her sights when she was struck by a hail of bullets. The sharpshooters in the second van had arrived. The gun dropped from her hand and she went limp.

Jennifer ran down the stairs, Ben two steps behind her. They stood next to Gwen's body as it gave one final shudder. Even in the throes of death, her face was a mask of cunning evil.

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

Ben and Amy arrived early at Dulles Airport for their flight to Aspen. As he carried Amy, her leg in a cast knocked against his chest. In his other hand he held his guitar case.

At the gate, he looked around anxiously, but Jennifer wasn't there. It was still early, he told himself. Then he recognized what a fool he was being. Of course she wouldn't be here. Three days ago he had asked a messenger to deliver a vase with twelve red roses and a gift-wrapped box to her house. Inside had been a gorgeous white teddy from La Perla. In the tissue paper was an envelope containing a one-way airplane ticket to Aspen and a handwritten note that read,
I hope you can come to Aspen with Amy and me. I lost you once. I don't want to make the same mistake again. Love, Ben.

He had received a voice confirmation from the messenger that the package had been delivered to a woman who had signed for it, Jennifer Moore, but Ben had never received an acknowledgment from her. He had called her four times in the last three days, leaving messages on her answering machine. She didn't even have the courtesy to return his calls. How could he possibly think she would be on the plane? Still, she had saved his life. He was grateful to her for that.

Reaching the front of the line, he was relieved to set Amy down on the counter. "Hey, you're getting heavy, kiddo."

The ticket agent, whose name tag said Dixie, looked at their tickets, and then said to Amy, "Wow, a vacation in Aspen. That sounds like fun."

"We're not on vacation," Amy replied. "My daddy and me are moving to Aspen."

"That's a great place," Dixie said.

"Time to start over," Ben added. "I'm getting out of this nasty town."

Dixie laughed. "All those politicians get to you?"

"Something like that."

She handed him two boarding passes. "We've got a small load today. I gave you an extra seat to stretch out her leg. If the passenger shows for that seat, I'll move her somewhere else."

In the boarding area, waiting for Dixie to call the plane, Ben suddenly saw a messenger in a gray uniform rush up with a box in his hands. "Is there an Amy Hartwell here?" the messenger called out.

"Hey, that's me," Amy shouted.

He handed her the box and quickly departed.

"Wait," Ben called to the messenger, but he was too late. The messenger was gone.

"Can I open it now, Daddy?"

"Sure. It's yours."

She eagerly tore off the wrapping. Inside there was a new Barbie doll with a whole array of clothes. Amy shrieked with joy. There was also a note. Anxiously, Ben read it to her: " 'I hope you have fun playing with your Barbie on the plane.' "

Ben was dejected as he carried Amy on board. Their seats were at the back of the plane: 25A, B, and C on the wide-body. As he got Amy settled next to the window, he tried not to think of who should be in the empty seat. At least she should have had the decency to return the ticket to him, he thought. So he could get a refund.

"I thought you said Jenny was coming, too," Amy commented.

He tried not to snap at her. It wasn't her fault. "I said she might come, honey. She must have gotten busy."

"Like you're always busy?"

"No more, Amy. I'm going to be a different kind of a lawyer now."

"What kind?"

"A real lawyer. Helping people with their problems."

He remained hopeful until the door closed. Then he gave up. Amy quickly became busy putting clothes on the new Barbie. He was glad she couldn't see the tears in his eyes. Fool, he thought, you blew it. You let her get away again.

* * *

They were the last ones to exit the plane. Ben struggled with Amy in one arm and his guitar case over the other shoulder, while his daughter held aloft her new Barbie doll. He was deep in thought, his mind fully occupied thinking about the details of starting a new life, like rental cars and temporary apartments, when Amy suddenly screamed, "Jenny... Jenny."

Stunned, Ben raised his head and saw her standing by the gate, dressed in ski clothes with sunglasses on her head. There was a gift-wrapped box on a chair next to her.