Watch Your Back (63 page)

It was no way to start a life together.

Nor was this the way to protect Cordelia. Because if her daughter ever asked for the truth about Robinette’s death, Stevie couldn’t lie any more than she’d ask Clay to.

Are you sure?
she asked again, this time to herself.
Be very sure. You’ll never have this moment, this opportunity again
.

‘Clay, are you all right?’ she called behind her, her decision made.

‘Jim Dandy. You?’

The words came out tight. Agonized.
He’s been bleeding all this time. Hell. I am the worst girlfriend ever
. ‘I’m okay.’

Quickly she took the cuffs hanging from her belt. ‘I’m going to back up,’ she said to Robinette. ‘You’re going to roll onto your stomach and put your hands out to your sides where I can see them.’ She eased back on one knee, pulling the gun out from under his chin, keeping it trained on his heart. ‘Roll over. Now.’

With a hateful glare, Robinette started to roll, but kept rolling and too late Stevie saw the gun tucked at his back in his waistband. Then it was in his hand, pointing squarely at her face.

She didn’t stop to think. Just did what she was trained to do, adjusting her aim, squeezing the trigger and watching as he jerked backward, his eyes gone wide with shock as her bullet connected with his forehead. Before she could suck in her next breath, two more shots shattered the air, both kill shots.

Robinette’s head had suddenly become well ventilated. He wasn’t getting back up again. Ever. Stevie crawled backward to get to Clay. He was lowering his gun, his face deathly white.

Oh God. Not Jim Dandy. This is much worse than I thought
.

Memories of December swirling in her head, Stevie gave a quick, frantic look for her phone while she ripped off her flak jacket. ‘He took my phone and threw it, the bastard. Let me stop this bleeding and then I’ll get help.’ She pulled her long-sleeved T-shirt over her head, revealing the Kevlar she wore under it. ‘How much blood have you lost?’

Clay had rolled to his back and was struggling to sit up. ‘Who fired the other gun?’

Stevie stared at him. ‘I thought you fired both shots.’

‘No, just one. Who fired the other one?’

‘I did.’ Hyatt pushed open the gate and stepped through. ‘I also contacted 911. The EMTs will be here any minute.’

‘How long were you there?’ Clay asked, grimacing as Stevie tied her T-shirt around his leg exactly as he’d done for her that day on the courthouse steps.

‘Most of the time. I heard the shots, but couldn’t get a clean bead on Robinette until Stevie stuck her gun up under his chin.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were there?’ Stevie stared, then understood. ‘You would have let me kill him too, wouldn’t you?’

Hyatt shrugged. ‘You deserved justice. I brought Silas and Elizabeth into my department. Never saw them for who they were. I let them run unchecked for years.’

Stevie focused on Clay’s leg, putting pressure on the wound. ‘It wasn’t your fault, sir.’

‘I disagree. If I’d listened to you eight years ago about Robinette, you’d still have your husband. And your son. Standing down today, it was the least I could do.’

Not sure what to say to that, she bent closer to Clay, checking his wound. The bleeding seemed to be slowing, but he’d lost an awful lot of blood. His pants were soaked with it.

‘I couldn’t do it,’ she admitted in a low voice. ‘Couldn’t kill him in cold blood. I’ll probably regret it later, because I had my chance and didn’t take it, but . . . I just couldn’t.’

Clay gripped her arm, getting blood all over her Kevlar. ‘If you’d been sure, I would have supported you, no matter what. But if you weren’t sure, you did the right thing. There are some things you can’t undo.’

She leaned in, brushed a kiss over his mouth. ‘Thank you. Once again you gave me the time and space I needed to think.’

‘Always.’

Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, but don’t cry. I’m not dying. I just got you. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Damn straight you’re not.’ She could hear the sirens now. ‘Except into an ambulance.’

He closed his eyes wearily. ‘Stay with me, Stefania.’

‘Always.’

Thursday, March 20, 9.15
A.M.

Sam froze, his hand poised an inch from the knob on his mother’s front door. ‘I don’t think I can do this, Ruby.’

‘You can. And I’m going to help you.’ She twisted the knob, let them inside. ‘Hello!’

His mother came around the corner, stopping short when she saw Ruby with him. ‘Sam. I didn’t expect you until tonight. Why aren’t you at work? And who have you brought to see me?’

‘This is Ruby Gomez, Mom. She and I . . . well, we are . . .’ He stuttered to a helpless stop.

‘I’m his friend,’ Ruby said. ‘It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs Hudson.’

His mother smiled. ‘Well, this is a lovely surprise. Come in, sit down. Can I get you some coffee? Tea?’

‘No, thank you. I’m fine. You have a beautiful home.’

‘Thank you, Ruby. It seems awful big and quiet these days, though. Now that Sam’s off on his own. He grew up here, you know.’

‘I know. He told me.’

Sam felt awkward in his childhood home as he followed Ruby and his mother into the living room. His mother sat in her favorite chair and Ruby sat on the sofa, patting the cushion. ‘Have a seat,
papi
,’ she said, quiet encouragement in her voice.

Sam sat beside her, gathered his courage. ‘Mom, I . . . I need to talk to you.’

‘Oh dear,’ his mother said, distressed. ‘Are you pregnant, Ruby?’

A surprised laugh burst from Ruby’s throat, one she quickly turned into a cough. ‘Oh no, ma’am. I’ve only known Sam a few days.’

‘Oh, well, good. Not that I’d mind, you understand.’ His mother gave him a meaningful look. ‘I’d like to be a grandmother.’

‘Mom,’ Sam groaned softly. ‘Please.’

‘I’m just sayin’.’ His mother’s eyes suddenly widened, her mouth rounding in horror. ‘You’re sick. Oh my God, you’re sick.’

‘No, Mom, it’s not that. Let me talk. This isn’t easy. I met Ruby a few days ago. I was at the ME’s office. The medical examiner,’ he clarified.

‘I watched
Quincy
,’ his mother said, her voice trembling. ‘I know what an ME is.’

‘Ruby was helping me get some information. She’s stuck with me from the beginning. She’s a good person, Mom.’

‘Sam,’ Ruby murmured. ‘You’re making this worse for her. Just tell her.’

Ruby was right. His mother’s skin had gone an alarming gray. ‘This is about Dad.’

His mother took a long look at Ruby before returning her gaze to his face. ‘He’s dead then. We knew that, Sam. If that’s what you’re afraid to tell me, I already knew.’

He shook his head. ‘There was something in that package we got on Saturday, something that didn’t belong to Dad.’ He told her about the matchbook, about the time he’d lost, about his search for the truth. And then he told her the truth.

His mother’s breathing had become shallow, but when he told her about Paul Mazzetti and his son, she began to cry. ‘Oh my Lord. Sam. How can this be true? How could he do this thing? This horrible, evil thing?’

‘Someone threatened to hurt me if Dad didn’t kill Mr Mazzetti. He was protecting me.’

She covered her mouth with her hand, tears rolling down her cheeks like rain. ‘He wouldn’t have needed to if he’d never done the drugs to begin with. Poor Mrs Mazzetti. Does she know?’

‘Yes, she does.’

His mother’s tears continued to fall. ‘My husband took her husband. Her child. How can I ever make amends for this?’

‘She doesn’t expect us to, either of us. She called me this morning to tell me so.’ And Sam had been so impressed. With all the woman had been through in the past few days, she’d taken the time to call him. She had been so incredibly kind and concerned for his mother. ‘She told me to tell you that you aren’t responsible. That she doesn’t want you to feel any shame over this. She was concerned this news would be bad for your heart.’

Sam’s mother blinked, wiping her cheeks with hands that shook. ‘Mazzetti? I’ve heard that name, very recently. She’s been on the news. She’s the one people have been trying to kill.’

‘Yes,’ Sam said.

His mother’s eyes sharpened. ‘Why her? Why did someone threaten John to make him kill her husband?’

Not only had Stevie Mazzetti consoled him, she’d given Sam permission to tell his mother what she needed to know. The news media would have it soon enough, she’d said.

So Sam told his mother, watched her eyes grow wide again, then heartbreakingly sad.

‘It’s so hard for me to understand how people can be so bad,’ she said quietly. Then she frowned. ‘How did she know about my heart?’

That’s a good question
. Sam glanced at Ruby. ‘I suspect you had something to do with it?’

‘I stopped by the hospital this morning to see her.’ Ruby shrugged. ‘I was there anyway, to transport a body. I’ve known Stevie Mazzetti for years and she’s one of the good ones. And I knew Sam was dreading telling you about your husband, Mrs Hudson. He was afraid it would trigger another heart attack. I knew Stevie would want to help. I hope you aren’t upset that I told her about your heart.’

‘No, of course not.’ His mother patted Ruby’s hand. ‘It was very sweet of you to care.’

‘Mom, this is going to be all over the news. There was a shootout last night and the man who orchestrated the murder of Paul Mazzetti was killed. Dad’s name will come up. You need to be prepared.’

‘The media may paint him as a victim of sorts,’ Ruby said. ‘It might not be so bad.’

‘However the media paints it, I’ll handle it,’ his mother said firmly. ‘You stop worrying about me, Sam. I will be fine. I mean it. You deserve a life of your own. A family of your own. Of course, a grandchild to hold would be an immense source of solace.’

‘Mom,’ he groaned.

Ruby laughed. ‘I don’t mind, Sam. Why don’t you go get your mother some tea? She can ask me all the questions that I know she’s wanting to ask.’

‘I’d love some tea,’ his mother said with a smile. ‘And I have lots of questions.’

Sam dropped a kiss on the top of his mother’s head as he got up. ‘I’m sure you do, Mom.’

‘So, Ruby,’ he heard his mother say as he went into the kitchen. ‘Who does your nails? They’re incredible.’

‘They’re press-ons. I can get you some.’

His mother laughed. ‘I’d poke my eye out.’

Sam found himself smiling. It really was going to be all right.

Thursday, March 20, 12.30
P.M.

Clay’s eyelids weighed five hundred pounds. He struggled to lift them, but it was worth the effort because Stevie was the first thing he saw. She’d fallen asleep in the chair next to his hospital bed. He took a long moment, just to look.

She seemed carefree in a way he’d never seen her. In a way he’d always wished for her. Finally it looked like things were going to be all right.

He took a brief check under his sheet. Everything was intact, which was a big relief.

‘Find what you’re looking for?’ Stevie asked, her voice sexy and rusty with sleep.

Clay grinned weakly. ‘Just checking.’

‘It’s all there,’ she said, holding a cup to his lips. ‘Sip. Don’t gulp, or you’ll throw up.’

‘Yes, Mom.’

She pretended to scowl, but didn’t quite pull it off. ‘The doctor said you came through the surgery just fine,’ she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘They were able to repair all the damage and you should be out of here tomorrow at the latest.’

He searched her face. She had some bruises and a cut on her temple that someone had treated with a butterfly bandage. But everything else seemed . . . ‘Perfect,’ he said huskily. ‘You look perfect.’

‘I’m a little banged up, but all in all, damn lucky. You were, too. The doc said that if the bullet had been a little to the left, you would have had the same injury I did. We’d have to get matching canes. “His and her” physical therapists. We could drag each other up the steps.’

She said the latter lightly, but he could hear her worry. ‘I know you want to run again,’ he said, ‘and we’ll work on that once I’m out of here. But understand that if you never do, if this is as good as your leg ever gets, it doesn’t matter to me. I take you, gladly, just as you are.’

Stevie swallowed. ‘That’s . . . wow. You really do know how to say the right things to me.’

‘Of course I do. I love you.’

Her smile set his heart at ease. ‘I love you too.’ She caressed his face, stroking her fingertips along his jaw. ‘So. You want the scoop after all the dust settled?’

He leaned back against the pillow. ‘Hit me.’

‘Robinette had escaped with Brenda Lee Miller. He got out at her son’s school when she went to pick him up, just like Joseph thought. She may have been able to spin Robinette into a “respectable philanthropist”, but she folded quick when she heard Fletcher had been caught by the Germans with the sarin. She didn’t think Robinette had killed his wife, though. She really believed that Levi had done it. When we told her about the bullet we found in that Rubik’s cube – and that DNA from the blood on it matched Rene Broussard’s – well, she broke down.’

‘She realized that Robinette had been using her from day one.’

‘Yeah. She seems to have a smidge of conscience left, but just a smidge. She knew about the sarin. Joseph got her to tell him where to find the accounting ledgers for the “other side of the business” by promising he’d do what he could to get her imprisoned close to her son.’

‘Kids are the biggest vulnerability to the parents who love them,’ Clay murmured. ‘Did she accept that Robinette set Levi up?’

‘Yes. She took that hard, too. She also had believed he loved his son.’

‘I’m not sure Todd Robinette loved anyone other than Todd Robinette.’

‘That’s the truth. She said that each one of the four of them – herself, Fletcher, Henderson, and Westmoreland – owed a personal debt to Robinette. He’d pulled her out of a burning personnel transport vehicle. He’d fixed a crime for Henderson. Apparently her drinking was nothing new. She was suspected of killing a former lover after a drunken brawl, but the MPs could never find the body and Robinette was her alibi.’