Finger Prints (41 page)

“Then your wife will. She’s loaded.” She smirked at the last. “I understand she’s got a terrific house. That should be worth something.”

“She’s my
ex
-wife. And her money is hers, as is the house. You won’t get anything from her.” He paused, calculating. “I guess you’ll have to hope Tom can come up with something.”

“Tom’s got nothing to do with this,” she snapped.

“He’s my brother. And he should be arriving here shortly.”

Sheila blanched. “Here? But I only called you, and you must have left immediately. How would Tom know anything about this?”

“Tom was with Sam.”

“With Sam? How would
Sam
know anything about this?”

“Sam was the first one I called when I got home and found that Carly wasn’t there. I was already on my way when he and Greg—”

“
Greg
?” Sheila’s eyes were wide with horror. She was oblivious to Theakos’s slow simmering nearby.

Goaded by her obvious discomfort, Ryan went calmly on. “He and Greg went to Carly’s place. Tom joined them there.”

“Sam, Greg
and
Tom?” Sheila asked, then turned her eyes away and murmured, “I never dreamed they’d all get together. I never dreamed you’d go to Sam in the first place!” She looked back angrily. “I thought you distrusted him. That was what Carly said.”

Carly tipped her head up to respond, but Ryan held her quiet. “She didn’t tell you everything.”

“I’ll say,” Sheila grumbled, eyeing Carly with an irrational hatred. When she raised her gun, Theakos uncoiled to stop her.

“Kill her now, and they’ll be all over us in no time. Wait. You gave ’em a deadline. Just wait.”

Sheila’s lips gave an ugly twist. “She ruined everything. Don’t you see? She ruined everything!”

“Not her,” Ryan injected. “You. You weren’t quite smart enough, Sheila. That’s all there is to it.”

Sheila leaped to her feet. “You…shut…up,” she gritted, holding the gun, now aimed at Ryan, with both hands.

He was undaunted. “You know, Sheila. Some day, when Carly and I are happily married, I might be able to forgive you for what you’ve done to her.” His voice grew sharper. “Tom’s something else. You might as well aim that gun at
him
and pull the trigger. He loved you.”

Nearing his limit, Theakos threw his hands in the air. “Goddammit, I’m sick of hearin’ that. Who in the hell cares if he loved her or if she loved him. You—” he pointed a finger at Ryan “—screwed that up by bustin’ in here.” The finger moved toward Sheila, though the eyes stayed on Ryan. “She can’t go back. Whoever he is, the guy’s history for her.” Finally, Theakos shifted his narrow gaze to Sheila. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sit down and shut up yourself. He’s trying to get you ruffled, or din’t that occur to you?”

It hadn’t. She’d been too busy trying to sort things out, trying to absorb what was happening. Suitably chastised, she slumped back into her chair and stared glumly at the couple by the foot of the bed. It wasn’t fair—he in his business suit that was barely wrinkled despite the tussle he’d had with Theakos, she in her skirt and sweater, seeming fragile and all the more feminine for it. And the two of them, in an absurdly tense situation, looking like lovers at ease in a room glowing with vague flickers of red and blue….

“How’re ya doin’?” Ryan whispered, tucking Carly more securely in the crook of his shoulder.

She tipped her head back. “Okay.” It was the first word she’d said since Ryan had saved her from what had seemed to be certain death. Her whisper was slightly hoarse, her throat was dry. “How did you get here so fast?”

He grinned. “I sped.”

“You could have been killed that way.”

“Uh-uh,” he murmured in the same hushed tones she was using. “My mission was a good one. God watches out for his own.”

“Is He still watching? I think we need help.”

“It’s coming. Have faith.”

As though in answer, a faint hum arose outside the cottage. As it neared, it took on a choppy tone.

Crossing to the window, but being sure to stand carefully to the side, Theakos peered out. He saw nothing. But the sound couldn’t be mistaken. “Helicopter,” he grunted. “Maybe the banker.”

It wasn’t the banker. Within minutes, the bullhorn blared again. “
Sheila. It’s Sam. Come to the door
.”

Sheila sat in her chair, nostrils flaring, jaw tense.

“
Sheila. Come to the door
.”

Still she made no move.

“
Something can be worked out, Sheila. You’ve been under stress. We can make a case for leniency
.”

“Hah,” Sheila snorted, talking to no one in particular. “That’s a pipe dream if I ever heard one. He’s been out to get me since I arrived in Boston. Now he’s suddenly on my side?”

“He’s right, though,” Carly said softly. “There’s always a chance—”

“Oh, keep still,” Sheila grumbled, and for a while, everyone did.

Ryan held Carly tightly, biding his time. He knew that to make a break for it now would be suicide, for himself and Carly. There were two guns and they were in the wrong hands. All he could do was to put his faith in the troops outside.

“
Sheila. It’s Tom
.”

“Oh, God,” she said, but her tone was beseeching.

“
I have to speak to you
.”

She clenched her hand in her lap, propping the gun on her knee.

“
Sheila. Please
.”

Had he sounded angry or commanding, she might have resisted him. But even the bullhorn couldn’t hide his anguish. And it cut through her as nothing else could.

Bolting from the chair, she reached for Carly’s arm.

“Whadya think you’re doing?” Theakos demanded in a vicious growl.

“I’m going to talk to him,” she replied shakily, as she pulled Carly up and headed for the living room.

Nudging Ryan up, Theakos quickly followed. “Don’ do it. It’s dumb.”

“I have to.”

“It’s a trap.”

They were in the living room now, with Sheila fast approaching the front door. “Tom wouldn’t hurt me,” she half-whispered, unable to think clearly.

Holding the gun to Ryan’s back and pushing him forward, Theakos caught up. “You’re crazy if you think that. He’s lost you and he knows it. Hell, it was his brother’s girl you were gonna kill.”

“
Sheila. I have to talk to you
.”

“And I have to talk to you,” she whispered, barely aware that Theakos had taken up position at the side window. With Carly as her plate of armor, she inched the door open. “Tom?” Her voice quavered on the single name.

“
I’m coming
,” was the quick reply and Sheila scanned the glare of headlights and flashers for sign of him.

“Get him away,” Theakos growled from the window, his own eye trained toward the mass of lights.

“It’s okay,” Sheila soothed.

“Get him away!”

A figure separated from the maze of cars, approaching slowly, arms spread wide to show that he was unarmed.

“Get rid of him!” Theakos yelled. His fear came from the sure knowledge that the man who approached was Sheila’s Achilles heel.

“I want to talk—” Sheila began, only to be interrupted by Theakos’s coarse threat.

“I’ll kill him. You want that?”

Sheila cast a quick glance to the side and saw that while Theakos had his gun pressed to Ryan’s neck, he could as easily shift it and shoot. Then she looked forward again to see Tom continuing his slow, steady approach.

Her hand trembled on Carly’s arm. Somehow there seemed nothing more important than to talk with Tom, to try to explain.

“I’m going,” she whispered.

“Don’t…you…dare.” Theakos paused. Everything was out of control. He didn’t understand it. He’d killed before and gotten away free and clear. But he’d always been dealing with the low life. That was it. These people were different and they were going to kill
him
. “He takes one more step and I shoot,” he warned a final time. The cold steel in his voice said he meant every word.

Again Sheila looked at Theakos, and suddenly she was frightened. She knew his type. There was a madness in him. There was a madness in
her
. She couldn’t let Tom suffer because she’d been weak.

“Don’t, Tom!” she yelled. “He’ll shoot!”

But Tom kept walking.

“Stop him,” Theakos growled.

“Tom! Please! No farther!”

Tom was on the front path and walking.

“Tom!” A hint of panic tinged her nasal cry. Then she heard Theakos’s gun cock. Thrusting Carly to the side, she raced from the cottage.

The shot was deflected by Ryan, who batted at Theakos’s arm split seconds before twisting and diving in Carly’s direction. In the same instant, the night air was rent by a barrage of gunfire and splintering glass. Scrambling across the floor on his belly, Ryan covered Carly’s quivering body with his own and pressed them both flat.

As quickly as it had erupted, all sound died. The silence lingered for an awesome eternity. Then there were the sounds of running feet, on the path, on the front steps, into the cottage.

“Carly?” It was Sam’s voice.

Ryan raised his head. “We’re here,” he mumbled, half afraid to move farther. “What happened?”

Joined now by half a dozen troopers, Sam moved to examine the body that lay in a tumbled heap in the middle of the room where the force of bullets had blown it. Moments later, he was back, kneeling by Ryan and Carly. “Is she all right?”

Carly lifted her head and Ryan pulled her to a sitting position. “She’s fine,” he said, turning her to him and holding her convulsively. “She’s fine.” Without releasing his hold, he stood and glanced to the side. “Is he…?”

“Dead.”

“How’s Tom?”

“Unhurt.”

“And Sheila?” Carly whispered.

When Sam didn’t answer, she tried to break from Ryan. But he wouldn’t let her go. “It’s okay, babe. It had to be. It’s better this way.”

“My God,” she breathed. “Oh, my God.” Again she tried to escape Ryan’s protective hold. Though he refused to allow it, he began to move her toward the door.

The scene outside was gut-wrenchingly still. Police seemed all around, but Tom was alone, kneeling over Sheila’s lifeless form.

An anguished cry broke from Carly’s throat. This time, when she pulled away, Ryan released her. On trembling legs she ran forward, falling to her knees beside Tom, staring down at Sheila’s bullet-riddled body.

“She was crazy and unconventional,” Tom murmured brokenly. “There was always that mystery about her. But she was exciting and warm. I loved her.”

“I know,” Carly whispered. She put her arms around him, and in that instant, yielding to grief and terror, she began to cry. Slowly, Tom’s trembling arms circled her and held her with the force of his own emotions.

Throat tight, Ryan watched and waited until at last they stood. Only then did he approach, slip his arm around Carly’s waist and, with a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder, lead them away from the place which, for all three, was best put behind.

When they left, Greg approached to gaze a final time at the woman who had, in her way, bewitched him, too.

The night was far from over. There were long hours spent at the local police station, then a weary drive home. It was dawn when at last Ryan and Carly returned to Cambridge.

“Want to sleep?” he asked as they entered her place.

“I don’t think I can,” she said tremulously.

Ryan smoothed a wave behind her ear. “Maybe you should try.”

She shook her head. “I’d only have nightmares.”

“But I’ll be there to hold you.”

“Oh, Ryan,” she whispered, sagging into his arms, “it was so awful. I keep thinking of that cord and the guns. If you hadn’t come just then—”

“I did come. That’s all that matters.”

She rubbed her face against his neck, trying to dispel other images. “I still can’t believe Sheila planned it all.” The hurt lingered, a raw wound festering with sadness. “All that time we were together she was so friendly. I guess Sam was right in distrusting her.” She faltered, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I wish they hadn’t had to kill her.”

“She came out with a gun,” Ryan reasoned gently. “They didn’t know she would never have used it on Tom.”

“Poor Tom…to see her die like that right in front of him. Will he be okay?” Tom had stayed with them during the questioning at the police station, then had returned to Boston with Sam and Greg.

“He’ll be fine. It may take a while, but he’ll be fine.” Ryan paused. “He really came through for us, didn’t he? He had to know the risk he was taking, coming forward like that.”

Hearing the note of deep affection and admiration in Ryan’s tone, Carly looked up. “He’s a good man. You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” he said hoarsely, then buried his face in her hair until he’d regained his composure. “We’ll have to keep him close. He may need it for a while.”

Lapsing into silence, he led Carly toward the bedroom. “Come on. Let’s lie down. I just want to hold you.”

Fully dressed, they stretched out on the bed. Ryan’s body was as tense as Carly’s. With their minds viewing and reviewing all that had happened, relaxation remained elusive.

“Ryan?”

“Mmm?”

“Will it be all over the papers? I don’t want the publicity. Everyone will know who I am—”

“Shh,” he soothed. “I spoke with Sam about that. There’s bound to be something in the Vermont press, but it’ll be minimal. With both of them dead, the case is over.” He tucked in his chin and looked down at her. “Anyway, you’re safe now. You know that, don’t you?”

“I keep telling myself, but it’s hard to believe.”

“Believe it. Culbert will get his new trial all right, but it’ll be for conspiracy to murder. And the sentence will be for a term after the one he’s already serving.”

“He could hire someone else.”

“For what purpose?”

“Vengeance?”

Ryan shook his head with a conviction that gave his words extra force. “It was one thing when he thought he could wipe you out as a witness. But there’d be no point in it now. Even if he wanted to do something out of pure malice, you can be sure that he’ll be severely restricted as to visitors and calls. He won’t be
able
to do anything. Besides, chances are Theakos didn’t have a chance to tell him your new name. He’s probably being interrogated right now. We’ll know more in time.”