Knock Me Off My Feet (35 page)

Marjorie had a gun.

Audie got the briefest glimpse of Marjorie's empty, cold face before Quinn threw his body against her and she heard the
pop!
and her overwhelmed mind explained it away as a tire blowout or fireworks, but then the screams began and a dozen
pop-pop-pops
exploded from behind her. Audie couldn't breathe
…
couldn't breathe
…
because Quinn had fallen on her, dead weight on top of her, and it was then that she felt the heat seeping through the fabric of her dress. He was bleeding all over her.

* * *

Audie held his hand in hers and squeezed.

Drew's face was ashen. He looked broken and ill, but he'd stopped crying. And Audie was suddenly filled with a rush of love for her brother she had never thought possible.

The last few hours had provided answers to questions Audie didn't even know she had. Drew had told her everything that he'd been through. The police had made a copy of Marjorie's suicide note for them, and they'd read and re-read the horrible truth about their family and their mother's death until it finally seemed real.

For the first time, Audie could look back on the arc of her life and
understand.
She didn't like most of what she saw, but at least it made some sense. No wonder her parents' marriage seemed strained! No wonder Drew had been so bitter and unpleasant. No wonder Helen didn't have time for her daughter—she was too busy living the world's most elaborate lie!

Drew and Audie sat for several moments in stunned silence, only vaguely aware of the busy humming and clanking of the hospital just outside the door. The police had found a quiet office for them, and except for Audie's frequent trips to the nurses' station for news on Quinn, that's where they'd stayed.

Audie looked down at herself again and groaned with sadness. Her gown was saturated with Quinn's blood, though it was hardly visible. Not for the first time, she wondered if Marjorie had intentionally selected a dress that wouldn't show bloodstains. Marjorie's own preference for the evening had been white. And she'd been shot so many times…

"I'll go up there with you if you want, Audie."

She blinked away the gruesome image. "What?"

"I'll go with you to see the Quinns."

She smiled at him and shook her head. Drew was right. It was time for her to face the Quinns and whatever huge crowd had formed in the surgery waiting room. The problem was, she had no idea what awaited her up there.

Did the family think she'd slept with Tim Burke? Did they know Quinn had taken that bullet to save her life?

She closed her eyes and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Audie. He's going to make it."

She nodded silently.

"You're perfect for each other."

Her eyes went wide. "Huh?"

Drew chuckled a little at the shock on her face. "The guy's funny and smart and he loves you. I knew it the first time I talked with him. Go for it."

She stared at him.

"Go on up there. You're wearing his ring, and if you're going to marry him, you'll have to deal with the Hibernians from hell sooner or later. So go."

"You'll be OK?"

"Fine. Please call me at the house when there's news."

She kissed Drew on the forehead and left. On the way to the bank of elevators, she saw a wooden door with a stained-glass window and a brass plaque that read simply: "Chapel." She sucked in her breath and slipped inside. Audie slid into a pew toward the back and listened to the steady mechanical breath of the air-conditioning vents as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She saw a few solitary forms toward the front.

OK. She was going to try to have faith now. So she folded her hands and tried to say a prayer.

Not that she'd ever prayed for anything in her life. She didn't know who or what to send her prayer to or what words to use or feelings to feel. Maybe God would understand that she sucked at prayer.

She bowed her head and gripped her hands tight in her lap, and the tears plopped from her eyes onto the dark silk of her dress.

Quinn would live. She had faith. He had to live.

It was ridiculous, she knew, but when she thought of Quinn she saw just two things—the green fire in his eyes when he pulled her close and said, "Come here to me," and the wooden swing set in his backyard.

Stupid. Quinn's face in passion and a swing set—but that's all she saw, all she felt, all she was, and she focused on those images as if they would save her, save him.

"God, please let him live," she whispered out loud, not caring if anyone heard. "Please give me a chance to love him."

Next, she asked for courage—a lot of it. Then she took the elevator to the waiting room to face the Quinns.

The place was packed. She saw Jamie, Michael, Sheila, Kiley, and Little Pat, Aunt Esther, plus Stanny-O and Commander Connelly and an assortment of faces she recognized and many she didn't, and she realized she was just standing there, her chest heaving, her heart breaking, a ridiculous woman in a ball gown the color of blood, standing where she suspected she wasn't welcome.

Suddenly little Kiley stepped out from the row of chairs against the wall and ran to Audie, gripping her skirt.

She took in a sob of breath to ask the only question that mattered. "Is there any news?"

Michael narrowed his eyes at her and answered in a wooden voice, "Nothing more."

She nodded. Staring at her were at least two dozen members of the Garda Band, many of the
Beverly
neighbors she had met at the party' several Area 3 detectives, and a half-dozen uniformed officers.

Audie began to absently stroke Kiley's dark curls, hoping the rhythm would remind her to breathe, then lowered her head. "Oh, God. Quinn," she whispered to no one.

Pat then entered the room and stood off to her side. She looked up at all of them, stopping on Pat's face. He seemed the most receptive.

"It's my fault."

The tears poured down her cheeks and trickled down into the bodice of her gown, but she didn't have the energy to brush them away. "If it weren't for me—my stupid case, my stupid life—he wouldn't have been shot. I'm so sorry."

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Audie looked to Sheila's pale and trembling face and then to Michael, who'd been transformed into a stranger by the pain. She couldn't even think of looking at Jamie.

She sought out Patrick again and said, "I screwed up. I'm not very good at this—at love—and I made a huge mistake. I was scared. I was scared that there was something wrong with me and that I'd only hurt him one day—hurt
all
of you—so I ran away from him." She choked back a sob. "And I ended up hurting everyone anyway."

The room was utterly silent. Everyone stared at her blankly, waiting. Audie was certain they could hear her heart pounding and her blood roaring.

"But at no time did I betray Quinn with Tim Burke." Audie raised her trembling chin. "That I did not do."

How ironic was this? She didn't have the courage to admit that she loved a man as they lay in bed, alone, in the dark. So this is what it got her—she had to spill her guts to a hostile crowd that included children and strangers, in a public place, under fluorescent lights!

"I love Stacey Quinn," she announced in a steady voice, looking from face to face. "He's the first man I've ever loved, and it's the most frightening thing in the world for me to admit, but also the most magical experience of my life. I love him more than anything in the world, and I'd do anything—" the tears kept coming
"—anything
to get
one more chance to earn his love and forgiveness. And yours."

Her shoulders were shaking. She barely heard her own plea. "Just one more chance to love him."

They remained silent.

Then Kiley looked up at her, her eyes brimming with tears, and she said, "I've missed you, Audie. Can you stay this time?"

Pat was moving toward her with one hand extended, but Jamie threw out an arm to block him, and his voice filled the room. "I'll do it, Patrick."

Kiley let loose and ran back to Sheila.

This was
it.

Jamie was a huge man, a man in agony—a man who had said Audie wasn't worth the trouble. What had Sheila once said about him? "If you're stupid enough to go back on your word or hurt one of his boys, God help you."

Audie stood tall, ready for whatever was about to happen, when Jamie grabbed her hand and pulled her fingers up to his chest. He stared for a moment at the ring on her finger—the one he'd given his wife so long ago—and with an unreadable expression, gently released her. His palm was coming toward her face, and she braced herself.

"Put your head here, lassie," he said.

Jamie pressed Audie against his chest as a big, cool palm stroked her cheek and her hair. Then he brought both arms around her and squeezed. Kiley returned to her place on Audie's legs, and Little Pat was holding one of her hands and Sheila and Mike and Pat and Aunt Esther and Stanny-O had gathered around them in a circle, all clutching to one another.

Audie breathed in Jamie, heard him whisper, "Please forgive me, dear girl," and allowed the dam to break inside her heart, once and for all.

Audie's body shook with sobs of sorrow and joy and she clung to him, clung to everyone, as the realization washed over her.

She wasn't alone anymore. She was one of the Quinns.

"Excuse me."

The voice cut through the safe cocoon of Audie's brand-new world and she stiffened. Everyone pulled apart to stare at the waiting room doorway, where Tim Burke stood alone, visibly trembling.

Michael was already stumbling toward him in a rage. "Of all the unholy—"

Jamie's big paw reached out and grabbed his son.

"I came to inquire about Stacey." Tim's voice was soft and shaky, and he sent a grateful nod toward Jamie.

Tim looked wilted and pale. His tuxedo shirt was missing several studs. His bow tie was lopsided. He appeared deflated—like somebody had stuck a sharp pin in his ever-ballooning opinion of himself.

It was then that Audie noticed the angry red swelling, around his left eye and cheekbone. Quinn had been right—it
had
been a nice cut.

"I came to apologize, set things right for Audie's sake, but it looks like she's done OK on her own." Tim straightened his shoulders, and for the first time in more than a year, Audie saw a trace of something redeemable in Tim Burke. Something that approached decency.

He met her direct gaze. "Marjorie has been forging little notes from you all year—saying you missed me, thanking me for the flowers, inviting me to your appearances. Honestly, Audie, I never would have harassed you. I just thought you were talking a while to make up your mind about me."

Audie took a step toward him, Kiley still hanging on her dress. She knew he was telling the truth—just like he had on the ballroom steps.

"I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I never intended to hurt you." Tim dropped his gaze to the mauve indoor-outdoor carpeting under his feet and tugged at his shirt collar. After a moment he raised his head, his expression bleak, and directed the next remarks to Jamie.

"I did mean to hurt Stacey, however. Marjorie and I made up that letter from Audie, Mr. Quinn. I wanted him to be jealous. I wanted him to turn away from Audie and never look back. I wanted—"

Michael was breaking free from his father and Commander Connelly had to add his muscle to Jamie's.

"But Marjorie
…"
Tim shook his head in wonder and moved his eyes to Stanny-O. "I turned my back for five minutes and that crazy old bitch copied all those notes in my computer. Then when you and Stacey showed up with the search warrant, I realized she'd handed me the opportunity I'd been looking for! I mean, all I had to do was keep my mouth shut for as long as it took for you two to drag my ass to jail, charge me, and sacrifice me on the altar of modern journalism, right? Then I could turn Marjorie in, sue the pants off everyone for slander and false arrest, and ruin Stacey's career, all while earning the sympathy of every goddamned registered voter in the city of Chicago! I couldn't have planned it better myself!"

Tim shrugged. Then his voice softened. "Jesus—I had no idea what Marjorie had up her sleeve, but Stacey figured it out on his own and ended up getting shot. Believe me, I didn't mean for that to happen. Anyway, I thought I owed you the whole story."

The room was deathly silent except for the sound of Michael's labored breathing. Audie suddenly felt the little hands on her skirt relax and watched in amazement as Kiley marched right up to Tim Burke.

Kiley's fists were balled at her sides and she raised her chin to look into his eyes.

"You're nothing but a double butt face," she said with conviction. "Nobody here respicks you very much. You better go home."

Tim nodded and left the room.

"The doctor's coming out."

All heads whipped around at Stanny-O's announcement, and for a second Audie wondered if she was strong enough to stay standing. But Sheila's arm came around her waist and Jamie's hand covered hers in a vice grip.