Topaz Heat (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) (28 page)

So, Wilson killed James, framed Derrick for the murder, bricked him into a wall, and walked away. Maybe it was a sign to Castolli to go down without a fight. Maybe it was because James wasn’t going to let his father take all of the rap for the numerous crimes committed in the Castolli name. Whatever the case, by framing Derrick, it allowed him to be the suspect no matter when the body was found.

Ginger was obviously a loose cannon, and the one who could tip the scales on Wilson. Intimidation and a monthly allowance hadn’t kept her mouth shut so they had to shut it permanently. But to do so, once Beaumont knew about it, they would have to frame Derrick once again. Piling Sarah’s body into the count would only point the finger more firmly at Derrick, since Sarah was completely removed from any part of Derrick’s past and anything to do with the Castollis.

He reached the end of the alley and looked up and down the street, praying for spiritual guidance. To his right, traffic picked up, pedestrian and automotive. A shopping district started at the end of the street, and several businesses operated above restaurants and boutiques.

To his left, the buildings slowly became more worn down, less attractive, less populated. A few beat up cars sat under a few inches of snow and trapped in the drifts created by the snow plows. Sending Beaumont a quick text, Derrick turned the collar up on his coat and started at a half-run, half-walk down the street, careful not to slip on patches of ice and, in one case, not to trip over a drunk’s legs.

Three blocks down, he saw the sedan he’d seen in Sarah’s neighborhood. He crossed the street and approached the building where it was parked more slowly, trying to appear casual. He paused at the corner of the block and looked up at the buildings and around him, seeing no movement, almost sure no one stood guard.

He cautiously approached the building and tested the door. It was locked tight. Looking around him, he knelt and inspected the lock, then pulled out his knife and the screwdriver. More than ten years had passed since he last picked a lock, but his hands remembered even if his mind tried to disengage the notion, and in seconds he cautiously inched the door open and slipped inside.

He held his breath against the stench and let his eyes adjust to the interior. As soon as he could see, he raced across the lobby and up the stairs. He knew from the time they entered the lobby to the time they started talking to Wilson, they were at least two floors up. So, he lost what he thought was precious time moving quietly and steadily over the second floor. Halfway through checking the rooms, he remembered. Her shoe! It hadn’t been a full minute from the time she lost her shoe to the time she’d started talking to Wilson, so wherever he found it, he would also find the floor they were on.

Racing back to the stairwell, he moved as quickly as he could, as quietly as he could, until he came upon the stair where her foot had gone through. Reaching in between the rotten wood planks, he retrieved her shoe and went to the top of the stairs. His phone buzzed in his hand and he saw the message from Beaumont informing Derrick that help was minutes away. It seemed when seconds counted, the police were always just minutes away.

Through the muffled confines of Sarah’s scrubs pocket, he heard Wilson say, “Kill them both.”

“THIS
is going to end here.” Gianni waved the gun between Wilson and Matty. “You’re going to be implicated, and so is your boy.”

Sarah’s heart fluttered in her chest. Panic tried to gurgle up and choke her, but she forced it back down. Die or live, she wouldn’t give in to hysterics. Watching Darlene’s grace in even the most trying of circumstances through the years taught her how to put her back up and maintain an outward appearance of stoicism.

“Why kill me?” She turned toward Gianni. “Why not just give the authorities the information you have?”

His insane eyes met hers. “DiNunzio owes me. Nobody quits Gianni. Nobody gets to just turn in a two week notice and leave. I figure I kill you, then we’re even, him and me. Besides, killing him wouldn’t hurt him as much as losing you would.”

“No,” Sarah whispered, fear closing her throat.

“Do you even know who he is? Do you know the things he did for me?”

Regaining her control, she lifted up her chin. “I don’t care. What he did is in the past. Who he was 10 years ago has no bearing on the man I know today.”

Gianni threw back his head and laughed. “You’re like a child. Let me explain something to you. You don’t just get absolution for some crimes.”

“You do from God.” Derrick’s voice startled everyone in the room. Sarah gasped and started toward him, but Gianni clucked his tongue and waved his gun. She stopped with her foot outstretched, then set it back down.

“Well, hello there boy. Been a while.”

“Not long enough.” Derrick held a knife in one hand, resting it against the side of his leg. “Sarah, come over here, sweetheart.”

“You will stay put,” Gianni said loudly. He waved his gun at Sarah and then leveled it to point at Wilson, who had started inching around the room. “You will all stay put.”

“What are you going to do? Shoot everyone here?” Wilson spoke with authority as he nonchalantly straightened the collar of his coat. “Matty, let’s go.”

“Do not!” Gianni stepped forward and cocked the pistol in his hand. Sarah kept her eyes trained on Derrick. His face looked like it was set in stone, and he watched Gianni intently. When he lifted his hand and waved her forward, she didn’t hesitate.

Derrick silently prayed that Sarah would move out of the line of Gianni’s fire when he gave her the signal. He prayed she wouldn’t hesitate, that she would react and come to him, to the door, to a close exit that would remove her from the madman’s sight. Out of sight, out of mind, he thought. As he barely lifted his hand and gestured, not looking at her, he peripherally saw her move toward him immediately.

Gianni saw the movement too, and spun on his heel, his gun moving in a wide arc as he turned his body. Derrick let his knife slide down his hand until he clutched the blade instead of the handle. He tested the weight, remembering a decade gone by, recognizing its feel, measuring the distance.

As Gianni aimed the gun at Sarah’s back, Derrick drew back and let his knife fly, watched it whirl through the air.

In the same breath, Derrick stepped in front of Sarah, shielding her with his entire body, using his other hand to push her behind him and toward the door. Gianni flinched toward Derrick and the room filled with an unbelievably loud noise as the madman pulled the trigger and fired.

Time slowed down.

Derrick saw the lightning bright muzzle flash fill every corner of the room with pale light. He smelled the burned cordite, the sharp smell of extinguished gunpowder that reminded him so much of burning orange peels. His ears filled first with the sound of echoing thunder then the high pitched whine of noise induced deafness.

He witnessed the business end of the pistol buck in the older man’s hand as his thrown blade continued to tumble in the direction of his target.

Then something shoved him backward very hard and very suddenly, and he stumbled into Sarah’s fleeing back. In the next heartbeat, Derrick’s knife came to an abrupt halt, embedding itself into Gianni’s forearm.

Time sped back up to normal as Derrick stumbled, turning and pushing Sarah into the hallway as they fled. With a roar of pain, Gianni dropped his smoking gun to the floor. Derrick turned his head to watch as Gianni reflexively gripped his wrist with his uninjured hand. He stared at Derrick in shock as he fell to his knees, trying desperately to retrieve his pistol from the floor with fingers that no longer wanted to respond to his mental commands.

Sarah felt nothing except for Derrick’s arms wrapping around her, shielding her from any harm with his muscular body, protecting her and preserving her at risk of his own life. Behind them, she heard Matty attack Gianni.

In the hallway, Sarah saw Detective Beaumont leading a team of policemen in full body armor rushing toward them. In the space of a breath, she witnessed Derrick and Beaumont exchange some silent and very masculine communication, using only eyes and the nodding of heads to convey whatever message they conveyed.

Beaumont and his team rushed into the room with pistols drawn, yelling baritone commands to those within, commands that would be obeyed or else someone would pay dearly. Someone would pay with his very life. The ordered shouts that followed settled down until Sarah heard the metallic clicks of handcuffs in the sudden stillness.

Derrick winced and put his arm around Sarah’s shoulder. He grinned stoically and said, “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart.”

“As quickly as we can,” she said with a smile, her breath hitching as tears flooded her eyes and choked her throat.

Derrick’s smile faded and his voice went low. “I’ll try very hard not to lean on you too much, but we need to get to the street soon. I bet there’s an EMT down there.”

Sarah was confused but only for a second. She looked Derrick up and down and finally saw the crimson stain spreading on his chest, getting wetter and darker and wider with every heartbeat. “He shot you!” She breathed. “Derrick, he shot you!”

Derrick grinned. “Better me than you, sweetheart.” The color had started to leave his face. Sarah recognized the early symptoms of shock. “I think I can make it if we hurry.”

Sarah knew better. The wound looked dangerous. It looked like the bullet had entered through the front of his left shoulder, possibly shattering the clavicle, possibly puncturing the lung which could result in a tension pneumothorax, or splintering a bone that could possibly endanger his heart. If it wasn’t a through and through, the bullet could endanger all kinds of vitals in his thoracic cavity and end his life in seconds. “Sit down and put your back against this railing.”

“Sarah…” Derrick protested.

“Do it. Carefully.” Her tone brooked no further argument. All of her medical training took over and her voice barked with authority. She pulled his shirt out of the way and yelled, “Beaumont! I’m going to need some help here!”

“Sarah,” Derrick grinned, “I know you’re a good nurse but I’m not having a baby.” His head lolled backward and the grin faded from his face.

Sarah ignored his attempt to jest and became all business. She ripped his shirt out of the way then applied pressure to the wound with her bare hand. “Sit forward for a second.” Derrick leaned forward and she inspected his back. No exit wound. The bullet was still inside. He had taken the bullet instead of her. He had put himself between a madman with a gun and her. He had probably saved her life. “Sit back … slow. Easy does it.”

Beaumont walked calmly into the hallway. “It’s okay. We’ve got them all in custody.” He saw Sarah’s arm and Derrick’s chest covered in bright red blood and his words froze. He drew his radio like a firearm and said, “I need EMTs to the third floor now! Right now! We have a man down.”

He holstered the radio and his eyes met with Sarah. “How is it?”

Sarah didn’t move. She said, “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Beaumont nodded and raced down the stairs.

Derrick leaned back and coughed abruptly. Sarah felt a tight dark circle of fear when she saw foamy blood tinge the corners of Derrick’s lips with the cough. His lung had been punctured. “Derrick, listen to me. The bullet didn’t go through. It’s still inside. Your shoulder feels a little crepitus, which means that your clavicle is probably shattered. That means you have bone splinters and a bullet rummaging around in there. We need to get you immobilized and then they are going to need to operate. In the meantime, you need to take slow, shallow breaths. Okay? Slow and steady.”

Derrick grinned, “My heart is racing but it isn’t because I’m shot.” Sarah’s eyebrows knotted. She wondered if he was starting to lose his lucidity.

“Don’t talk,” Sarah ordered.

Derrick covered her hand with his own. “I love the way you touch me.”

“Derrick…”

“I love you, Sarah.”

“I love you, too, Derrick. Now please shut up!”

Derrick chuckled and it turned into three sharp coughs. Then he said, “Let’s pray.”