When the Devil Comes to Call (A Lars and Shaine Novel Book 2) (18 page)

Shaine followed Lars’s directions, unsure whether Lars even knew the address or only spewed out street names from a blood-loss induced fog. Every time he called out an intersection, though, she found it right in front of her. She knew it would take a lot to kill Lars, still she worried that now she’d seen exactly how much.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” She asked.

“No,” Lars said, and left it at that.

Shaine guided the Mercedes to a halt in front of Earl Walker Ford’s house. She got out and went to the passenger side, opened the door and found Lars in a pool of his own blood. He hadn’t complained on the entire ride from Greenwich to Massapequa, but he looked in bad shape.

The trip had taken too long, the distance too far for someone in his condition.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather go to a hospital and risk it?”

“He owes me a favor.”

“For what?”

“Long story.”

Shaine sighed. “Can you stand?” she asked.

“Might need something heavier than Van Halen this time.”

“Forget the soundtrack. Let’s go.”

Shaine reached down and draped his arm over her shoulder and lifted. He helped the best he could, which wasn’t much. He left behind a seat soaked with blood.

Shaine hadn’t checked the time before she got out, but it had to be past midnight. She had no idea how this would go over with an FBI agent, but Lars seemed to think the man owed him something. They made their way up the brick walk. Shaine balanced Lars as she pulled on the door knocker three times. She waited, not knowing what to expect.

“You can leave me and take the car,” Lars offered.

“No way,” she said. He smiled at her with something like fatherly pride.

“Maybe you should.”

“Forget it. I owe you a favor too.” She lived every day of her life knowing if Lars hadn’t taken extreme action, she’d have been dead on a browning lawn beside her dad two years ago.

“You’ve paid in full, little lady.” Lars’s voice grew weaker.

Shaine shook her head. A debt like hers could never be fully paid off. She hoped Special Agent Ford felt the same way.

The porch light came on.

The door eased open a crack, then came fully open. A tall black man stood there, a gun casually in his hand. He looked from Lars to Shaine like he couldn’t be sure if he was still dreaming or not.

“Can you help us?” Shaine asked.

Lars looked up at Ford, smiled at him with bloodstained teeth. “I’m not trying to put you out. You say go and we’ll go. I’m about out of friends right now, though.”

“What happened?” Ford asked.

“Cut himself shaving,” Shaine said. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

From inside the house, “Who is it, Earl?”

“Never mind. Go back to bed.”

“Everything all right?” the woman’s voice said.

“On second thought,” Ford said. “Get a few towels. Lay ‘em out in the backseat of the car. I’ve got to go out for a bit.”

“We have a car,” Shaine said.

“Is someone looking for it?” Ford asked.

“No.” Anyone who might be is dead. She hoped he got the rest of it from her stare. Ford gave it right back.

“You’re her, aren’t you? Shaine.”

“That’s right,” she said.

Ford took in the sight of her. All these years.

“I don’t care whose car we’re taking,” Lars said. “Or where we’re going, but can we get a move on?”

The woman from inside arrived at the front door behind Ford. She gasped and put a hand over her mouth, pulled her thin white robe even tighter around her. “My God.”

“It’ll be all right, Denise. Just get the towels.”

“Who is he?”

“Never you mind about that,” Ford said. “He needs my help is all that matters.”

The woman scurried away back into the house. Shaine looked at Ford, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “Thank you,” she said.

“Told you he owed me one,” Lars said.

***

Ford drove quickly, but controlled. Shaine sat in the back seat with Lars pressing a fistful of hand towels into his gut to staunch the bleeding.

“Do I want to know who?” Ford asked.

“I don’t know, do you?” Shaine said.

“Just tell me, was it Nikki?”

“No.”

“Guess I’ll read about it in the papers then.”

Lars kept his eyes closed, concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. “I promise you, once I’m patched up, we are out of here for good,” he said.

Ford parked in the Emergency lane at the hospital. He got out waving his FBI badge at the orderly who came out of the double doors.

“This man needs help. Government business. Move it, son.”

The orderly spun, struck mute by the power of the badge and went back through the doors, returning a few seconds later wheeling a gurney and with two more men in blue scrubs to help him.

Shaine stood back and watched as they gently eased Lars out from the back seat. She had to admire the old man. Never once complained. She thought about cueing up some more AC/DC on the iPhone, but instead she let the professionals do their work.

She followed the gurney inside while Ford went to park the car.

“You should go,” Lars said as the wheeled him in. “While he’s gone.”

“Are you crazy?” she said.

The gurney pulled ahead and into an ER bay where a doctor, an intern and two nurses crowded around.

“What’ve we got?” the doctor asked. The men wheeling the gurney had no idea, other than a man with an FBI badge ordered them inside. Lars did his own triage call.

“Gunshot wounds to the abdomen and right triceps. The arm is a through and through. Bullet’s still in my gut though.”

“How long ago?” the doctor asked, seeing the even coat of blood staining nearly every inch of Lars’s clothing on the left side from armpits to kneecaps.

“More than an hour. Maybe two. It was a .38. Close range.”

“Okay, roll him,” the doctor said. They rolled Lars and checked his back. No exit wound. They moved him from the gurney to the ER bed using the bed linens like a hammock. He almost looked comfortable.

The doctor started calling out medications, tasks for each person to do. Shaine stood by and watched as the head nurse on duty approached her, clipboard in hand.

“You came in with the guy with the gunshot?” the nurse asked.

Shaine felt a hand on her shoulder.

Ford led with his I.D. as the officer approached. “I got this one. Witsec case. Needs to stay out of your report. This one only goes in mine, you hear me?”

The nurse examined the I.D. closer than the orderlies did. Satisfied, she nodded. “You the one who shot him?”

“Not this time,” Ford said.

As the nurse turned and walked back to her post, Shaine spun and pressed her face into Ford’s chest, sobbing.

The moon looked blue, jagged clouds scraping against the circle of brilliant, bright light. Shaine felt the cold from the window as she leaned closer, resting her head on the glass. Her view went dim as her breath fogged the window and dripped tiny beads of water like she stood inside a glass of melting ice water. The cold felt good on her forehead, kept her awake for a while longer.

An hour had passed, no word from the doctors. Lars had been taken up to surgery once they stabilized him in the ER. The doctor seemed confident, but then they always did. She hated hearing the doctor talk with his Long Island accent. No matter how much medical jargon he threw in, he only sounded stupid to her.

Shaine turned and walked back to the waiting room row of seats. Orange and blue material over flat cushions on fiberglass seats that were probably very stylish in the seventies. She sat next to Ford who seemed to hold a calm she knew Lars would be jealous of.

“Do you do yoga?” she asked him.

“No. Why?”

“Just wondering. You’re so chill.”

“Us getting worked up out here isn’t gonna help him any.”

“I guess not.”

She slumped in her seat, any burst of energy from the cold window already gone. She felt Ford looking at her.

“I’m trying to be respectful here,” he said. “But there are a few things I gotta ask.”

“Go ahead.”

Ford shifted in his seat, turning to her. “Well, now that I’m here, I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ll think of something.”

“Did he kill your father?”

Shaine sat up straighter. “No.”

“It was the kid. Trent.”

“Yeah.”

“And you went with Lars willingly?”

“Not at first.”

“So he kidnapped you?”

“No. He saved my life. I just didn’t know it at the time.” Shaine picked at her fingernails.

“We had a lot of people out looking for you,” he said.

“So did they.”

“Y’know,” he said. “If you wanted out, I could get you protection.”

“Like you did with my dad?”

Ford turned in his seat, faced forward. “Fair shot. But I’m serious. You don’t need to run anymore. I can help you.”

“By putting me in protection? What do you think that is if it isn’t running? I lived my whole life like that until I went with Lars. I think we’re doing fine.”

“Two bullets in him would say otherwise.”

“That wasn’t his fault.”

A shrill voice on the PA system interrupted them with a call for a certain doctor with a long Pakistani last name.

“So whose fault was it?”

“Nikki. He’s the reason we’re here. He called him. He put him back to work.”

Ford nodded his head. The double standard of his job. Protecting the bad guys only because they gave up the names of more bad guys.

“But this is no life for you,” Ford said.

“How do you know what my life is like? My life is fine. My life is better than it was when I was under your protection.”

“Will you at least take my card and call me if you change your mind?” Ford reached for his wallet.

Shaine turned to him. “Does this mean you’re not going to arrest us?”

“I should,” Ford said.

“But are you?”

Ford held out the card for her to take. “No. Not tonight.”

“Because he didn’t kill you?”

“A little bit. Mostly because you’re here. You’re alive. I know he did that. I know he saved you when we didn’t. When we should have. Because I believe in second chances and in change. Because if I did arrest you it would be a whole hell of a lot of paperwork.” He smiled.

Shaine took the card, folded it into the pocket of her jeans.

The doctor pushed through the double doors into the waiting room. He seemed proud of the blood still staining his scrubs from the operating room. Shaine and Ford stood up.

“We got the bullet. I took out a small section of liver I couldn’t repair, but nothing major and it missed his kidney by an inch. He’s gonna be fine.”

Shaine smiled and dropped a few happy tears down her cheek.

“Can I see him?”

“In the morning. He’s still asleep right now and we’ll keep him that way the rest of the night. He’ll be in a lot of pain so it’s best he rests.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Shaine said.

Ford held out a hand to shake. The doctor took it and said, “Someday I want to hear the whole story on this one.”

“Classified,” Ford said. “We were never here.”

“Now I really want to know,” the doctor said. He turned to Shaine. “Get some rest. We’ve got a bed set up for you in the room next to his.”

“Thank you so much,” Shaine said.

The doctor left them, walking tall as he went.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” Ford asked. “You’ll be here, right?”

“Afraid we’re gonna skip town?”

“Not so much with him the way he is. You, I’m still not so sure about.”

She smiled. “I’ll be here. I wouldn’t leave him.”

“I’m seeing that.”

When the sun broke through the morning it seemed almost warm outside. Lars woke before Shaine, the pain medication wearing off. He pressed a button hanging from the bed near his right hand and a soothing softness started in his arm where the IV pierced his skin, then spread through his body masking the sharpest pain. The dull throb in his gut remained, centered beneath the snaking scar that ran in a semicircle from his front to his back, held together with staples.

His arm thrummed with each pulse where a bullet had torn through his muscle. He checked, expecting to find himself handcuffed to the bed frame. Ford must have stayed true to his word. But then Shaine was nowhere to be seen. Had he left Lars alone and taken her back into custody to right the wrong on a two-year old unsolved case file?

He pushed the call button and a nurse stepped into his room only seconds later.

“So, the mystery man is awake. You got my station on high alert there, pal.” She was middle aged, experienced, he could tell. “Now, I know you don’t need pain meds since I can see you already had some.”

“Do you know where the girl I came in with last night is?” His voice came out raspy like a two-pack-a-day smoker.

“She’s right next door. We got strict orders not to bother you or her. Orders right from the FBI.”

“Can you go get her for me?” he asked. “What’s your name?”

“Mary. And I was told not to bother either one of you.”

“I’m saying it’s okay.”

“All right. It’s on you, though.” Mary went to a door joining his room and the room next door. She tapped twice and then entered. A moment later Shaine appeared in the same clothes she wore yesterday. They both smiled when they saw each other.

“You look like shit,” she said.

“Thanks.”

Mary chuckled. “I’ll let you two do some catching up,” and she left.

Shaine went to his bedside. She stopped short of holding his hand.

“How are we? Where’s Ford?” Lars asked.

“At home. He’s not going to arrest us.”

“He told you so?”

“Yeah. And I believe him.”

“Good,” he said. Lars already felt tired in his muscles, tired in his bones. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

“It’s fine. I wanted to come.”

“I know. I still shouldn’t have let you. I let myself get caught up in an old grudge. It’s not good. I’ve never done a contract before where I’m involved, personally. I lost my sight there for a while.”

“But you did it for Lenore.”

“Yeah, but she’s not around to appreciate it. So, did I really?” Lars let his head fall back to the pillow. “More like I did it for myself.”

“And . . .? Did it work? Do you feel better about it?”

“About Lenore? I don’t know.” Lars said. “Maybe. I mean, I’m glad Leo paid for what he did. I don’t know. I’m not sure what’s worse – to carry around all that anger for so long, or to let anger make you do stupid things. I guess, in the end, I’m glad I came back.” Lars laughed a wheezing laugh. “Of course, I can say that now since I seem to have made it out alive. And you’re okay.”

Shaine studied him in the bed. The tubes, the needles, the bloodstained tape around his wounds. “But letting a thing like that fester, that’s not good, right?” she asked. “Better to have some sort of closure on it.”

“I guess. I can’t tell any more. All I know is I liked the job better when I knew nothing about the target.”

“But Leo needed to pay.”

“I suppose so,” Lars said and closed his eyes for a little rest. The medication tried to drag him back to sleep. He fought it, but his resistance grew weak.

“I think he did,” Shaine said. “I think you wasted a lot of time carrying it around with you. If you’d have know sooner, you would have done it then, right?”

“I don’t know, Shaine. I’m kinda done talking about it.”

“But, if you knew who killed her and knew you could do something about it. Then it’s the right thing to do, right? I mean, an eye for an eye, right?”

“I know Bruno had to go. I know that much.” His speech slowed down. He forced his eyes open and looked at Shaine standing over him. “Hey, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” she said, blushing slightly. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

“Next time,” he said. “I don’t leave you downstairs.”

Shaine smiled and nodded.

There was a single knock on the door and Earl Walker Ford entered, tucking away his FBI I.D. into his jacket pocket.

“Well, well,” he said.

Here it comes
, thought Lars. The handcuffs. The backup. The excuses. I had to. It meant my job. They would have found out.

“How you feeling the day after,” Ford asked.

“I’ve had a lot of days after in my life,” Lars said. “None of them quite like this.”

“Guess we both got a second chance at living yesterday.”

Lars nodded, feeling ashamed for ever arriving at Ford’s house intending to kill him. “Guess we did.”

“Oh, before I forget,” Ford said. He reached into his pocket and took out the keys to the Mercedes. He handed them to Shaine. “I couldn’t get it cleaned or anything, but here you go.”

“Thanks,” Shaine said, taking the keys.

“Is this where you ask when we’re leaving town?” Lars said.

“No. You need to recover. I’ve told the staff here not to bother you. The only number they have is mine. I confiscated all the records. They all listed a John Doe anyway, but, y’know, in case.”

“Hey, Ford,” Lars said. “I know the risk you’re taking.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Probably a stupid move.”

“Well, we won’t do anything to jeopardize what you’ve done for us,” Lars said.

“I appreciate that.” Ford looked to Shaine. “I’m gonna get a coffee. You want anything?”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back. And then,” he said to Lars. “I want to ask you about a few dead bodies they found last night in Greenwich, Connecticut. Some people you may know.”

“Doubt I can tell you anything.”

“Well, we’ll see how far these favors go two ways, huh? And who owes who now.”

“Off the record?”

“For my files, but anonymous. I figure maybe if I can provide a little insight, they might give me a little bump and make my pension go higher.”

“In that case, I might know somebody who knows something.”

“I figured you might. Be right back.” Ford left with a smile on his lips.

Shaine held the keys, squeezing them until her palm hurt. Ford hadn’t cleaned it. That meant there would still be blood on the seats, but did it also mean Lars’s gun still lay on the floor? Was Ford trying to tell her something? Probably not.

Lars would get better. They would go home. His job complete, his grudge settled. Hers unsettled.

Some people deserved to die. Lars had been trying to teach her the difference and now she finally knew. Leo deserved to die for what he did. Lenore hadn’t. Her father hadn’t. But Nikki did.

She gripped the keys, played a map in her head of the route back to White Plains. To Nikki’s house.

“Lars,” she said.

“Yeah.” He looked up with sleepy eyes and a slight smile on his face.

“I know you’ll understand. Maybe not right away. But you will.”

“Understand what?”

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “He doesn’t deserve a new start. He doesn’t deserve to ride into the sunset. Not any more than Leo did.”

“I don’t know what—”

“I’ll come back. You can decide what you want to do then. But I won’t leave you alone here. I’ll come back and whatever you decide.”

Shaine walked back through the door joining their rooms.

Lars sat up in his bed, his body reminding him of the pain. The realization crept over him like the drug in his veins. Slowly at first, then bursting over his whole body.