The China Doll (26 page)

"I’m afraid I don’t," the man answered
quietly. "But it might be of some comfort to the man in question
that there is no death penalty in this state. And isn’t it
wonderful how many appeals you’re allowed?"

"That’s if he confined his crimes just to
this state," Richard said, holding Jessie’s hand. "Or country."

The man smiled. "Oh, you’ll be sure to find
that so many other countries don’t have a death penalty."

"But is their appellate system as generous?"
Richard narrowed his eyes again. "I’m sorry to stare, but can you
tell us again, why did you need all that work done?"

"A car accident. Just awful."

"Right," Richard said softly. "But you
weren’t alone in the car, were you?"

"I’m afraid I wasn’t."

"And what happened to the other
passenger?"

"He didn’t pull through."

Jessie crossed her arms. "What was his name
again?"

"I’m sorry?"

"The man in the car with you? What was his
name?"

The man blinked and looked at both of their
faces. "John."

"That’s common enough," Richard said. "But
what about his last name?"

He blinked again. Then he fixed his eyes on
Jessie. And then Jessie recoiled as he smiled. "Leighton. John
Leighton."

"Small world," Jessie spat.

Richard pressed onto the table and leaned
forward.
Enough
. "This is going to be easier on you if you
cooperate. Tell me about my father. Tell us about the poem, you
perverted little man."

Tom stood up. He looked Richard right in the
eye. "You wouldn’t dare speak to me like that if I didn’t have
these cuffs on. Consider yourself lucky, you skinny little—"

The door swung open. Lucy stood in the
doorway and Robert was right behind her. She slammed the door but
didn’t take her eyes off of him. "I want to make something
perfectly clear," she said, and Jessie had never been so in awe of
her. "Don’t you ever threaten my son again."

She didn’t need to state consequences. She
never did. "Hello, Luce. Good to see you," Tom said with a smile.
Richard closed his eyes, then squeezed Jessie’s hand.

The next sound Miranda heard was a groan. She
looked up. Michael was sleepily smiling at her. She smiled back. "I
had a dream," he said wearily.

She put her chin on her fist. "Unfortunately,
the part about you getting shot wasn’t a dream."

"Yeah, I figured that out. But I had this
dream about you kissing me."

"I think they gave you some pretty heavy
sedation. Boy, the lengths you’ll go to for a high."

"Tell me about it." He touched her face. "But
it was a really good dream. I think you even told me you loved
me."

"It was a dream, Michael. I wouldn’t kiss you
after you were such an idiot. And don’t you know how to take
directions?"

"You mean that part about not doing anything
stupid?"

"Yeah, that. For the record, struggling for a
gun is stupid."

"And what about you? That little maneuver is
cute in a club, but did it occur to you that he might have done
something like shoot you?"

"I didn’t hear him unlatch the safety. I
thought he was all show."

"Oh, thanks a lot." He caressed her neck. "So
I guess this is all your fault."

"You could have been more specific when you
called and said 'dangerous'."

"Excuse me for thinking that ‘danger’ might
be a code word for you to stay away."

She shook her head. "Not if Jessie was with
him."

He grabbed the back of her head. "Yeah, I
know how that feels." He pulled her into a kiss that she could have
easily resisted but didn’t. He pulled back after a minute. "You’re
right. I must have been dreaming before, because that kiss was much
better."

She kissed him again. They both jumped a
moment later when the door opened. Richard and Jessie walked in.
Miranda looked guiltily at Jessie, but still held Michael’s hand.
Jessie looked at their hands, then shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

Richard bowed his head a little bit.
"Really?"

Jessie sighed. "I suppose getting shot while
trying to rescue my friend is, well, you know, enough." Jessie
looked at Michael and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Michael." She
paused. "But in case it wasn't obvious, if you hurt me, Miranda or
anyone else again, I'll shoot you somewhere much worse than the
shoulder."

Michael nodded as a tear trickled down the
side of his face. "Thanks, Jessie."

Jessie nodded. "Yeah." She turned to Miranda.
"But you and I really need to talk. Right now."

"Um, okay." Miranda got up, but kissed
Michael again before she let go of his hand. She hugged Richard on
her way out, then closed the door as she and Jessie left.

"A little help," Michael said as he tried to
sit up. Richard helped him up, then fluffed his pillows. "Thanks,"
Michael said as he eased back.

"Are you ready for the ‘I told you so’ speech
now?"

"Um, no," Michael said with a laugh, then
hissed in pain. "How about I take a rain check for my next screw
up?"

"You realize, of course, that people are now
going to start looking at you like someone who might not screw up?
Certain people might use the word ‘hero’ when talking about
you."

"That I don’t think I’ll believe until I hear
it, and then I still might not." But Michael was happy. "So what
happens now?"

"He’s giving a DNA sample as we speak. I have
a feeling it’s only a matter of time before he’s finally put away
for what he did."

"Are you sure it’s him?"

"I’m positive." He tightened his jaw. "He
raped her while their daughter was still in the house. He didn’t
care about Jessie, ever. The day she was hiding with me, he didn’t
say one word about her. She...I think he was in the middle of it
when Jessie woke up. He let Josie go just long enough to get her
back to sleep."

"How do you know?"

"It was something Jessie said that very day.
I didn’t get it until I saw the first note. That was a lullaby
Josie used to sing to her when she was a baby."

"Between that and whatever they gave me, I
might throw up. Why the notes then?"

"I think he wanted to make sure that Jessie
didn’t remember. I didn’t think she did Michael, I swear. But now I
understand why she had a breakdown when she was at school."

"But why? It doesn’t make sense."

"He wanted to come back," Richard said
simply. "He wanted to come back to the life he thought his wife had
stolen from him." He shuddered. "It never occurred to him how much
he’d stolen from her."

"Does that make it okay?" Michael asked
quietly. "She tried to kill him."

"Michael, did you or did you not just take a
bullet for the woman you loved? Imagine now that it’s your child.
What do you think you would do?"

Before Michael could answer, they both heard
Miranda shriek from behind the door. "What?!?" A moment later,
Jessie walked in.

"What’s going on?" Michael asked in
alarm.

Jessie shook her head and looked at Richard.
"Why did I have to be the one who had to do that?"

"Because she was less likely to shoot the
messenger if the messenger was you."

"What is going on?" Michael repeated.

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "Looks like dear
old Dad wasn’t the only demon."

~~~

Miranda walked into the waiting room. Emily
ran up to her. "God, Miranda! The next time you leave work to
confront a psychopath, can you at least let us know how long you’ll
be gone? Jesus, you could have been killed!" Emily hugged her while
Carlos, Jordan and Vijay gathered around.

Mitch ran in. "Miranda, are you alright?"

"I’m fine," she said wearily. "I’m not the
one who was shot."

Emily put her hands on her hips. "That man is
full of surprises."

"Who was shot?"

Emily reluctantly turned to her husband.
"Michael Abbot."

"Are you serious?"

Lucy walked in a moment later. Miranda had
never seen her look so exhausted before. "Are Richard and Jessie
here?"

Miranda nodded her head. "They’re in
Michael’s room."

Lucy pursed her lips a bit but Miranda’s gaze
didn't waver. Lucy nodded at last, then walked in the direction of
Michael’s room.

Emily rubbed Miranda’s arm. "I called Zainab
and told her what happened. She’s on her way."

"Thanks, Em." But Zainab wasn’t the person
Miranda was waiting for.

One minute later, Robert walked in. "Miss
Harel, has the doctor checked you out?"

"Detective, I’m fine," Miranda said with
unconcealed disgust. "Shockingly, Jessie seems to be okay as well.
Michael, even, is going to be able to leave in a few days. So why
don’t you get out of here now before you can inflict any further
damage on anyone?"

"I understand you’re upset, Miss Harel, but
I’m going to need a statement from you and Mister Abbot."

"Then you’re going to have to wait until I
have an attorney present."

"Just let me know, Miranda," Mitch said to
Robert.

"What a hero," Emily muttered before she
walked off.

"Emily." Mitch looked at Miranda and then
walked after Emily.

Miranda turned back to Robert. "And, by the
way, if I find out that you’ve gone near Michael before I get back
to him, I am going to rip you to shreds. Are we clear?"

Before Robert could answer, Miranda lifted
her chin and narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me, Detective," she said
before she stalked off towards Alex Sheldon.

He was about to follow when he saw Zainab
come in. Their eyes met, and she walked over to him. "What are you
doing here?" she asked quietly.

He smiled shyly. "Just here to close up a few
loose ends."

Zainab looked over to Emily who was heatedly
telling Mitch to leave her alone and Miranda glaring at Alex while
he squirmed. She knew where Michael was and she had a pretty good
guess about where Richard and Jessie were. "Was it worth it?"

"We got our man."

"That wasn’t what I asked."

His smile drooped a bit. "It’s nice to finish
something."

"Never mind the cost?"

"I told you, I have regrets, if that’s what
you’re asking. But they might be different from what you’re
thinking."

"What are they?"

"I hurt someone who didn’t deserve to be
hurt."

"You already told me that one, actually. And
I can think of about five or six other someones."

"Maybe," he conceded, "but right now I can
only think of one."

"Is that it?"

"No." He shook his head. "I regret that I’ve
lost that person’s respect."

"Then take some advice Detective—"

"I’d prefer if you called me Robert."

"Take some advice, Robert. Regret can really
eat you from the inside out. By definition, it’s about something
you can’t fix. Best you can do is learn from it and then leave it
alone, never to be repeated. Otherwise you’re liable to become an
empty shell."

"Are you sure about that?"

"About it ruining your life?"

"No. About it being something I can’t
fix."

Miranda had caught up to Alex before he could
enter the waiting room. "I know," she said.

"Miranda, what were you thinking going after
him? Why not call me or tell Richard? You could have been
hurt."

Miranda seethed. "And you wouldn’t want that
would you? Because you don’t like to see people hurt unless you’re
the one hurting them."

"Darling, I thought we talked about this last
night."

Miranda struggled not to be repulsed by the
memory of lying in his bed. "We did talk. You talked. And what was
it you said exactly? Something about never hurting Richard
purposefully? That if you’d known, you’d never have done it?"

"And it’s true."

"No, it’s not." Alex had never noticed before
how cold her eyes could be when she was angry. But she had never
been this angry before. "Lucy thought it was Tom, your friend, who
outed her to her husband. So Richard asked him." Alex took a step
back. "And it wasn’t him. It was you."

Alex searched her face for some sign of
uncertainty and found none. He was undeterred. "Why would you take
his word for anything? After what he did to his wife, his daughter
and you?"

"Because it’s something you’d do." He
swallowed. "You told Annabelle Abbot that her husband was having an
affair with my mother. You were wrong, of course, but I guess you
get some points for not realizing that—"

"Miranda, don’t."

She shook her head. "You had nothing to gain
when you did that except the knowledge that you’d hurt them. But
maybe you did have something to gain when you told Richard’s
father. Because then Lucy—everyone—would know how far you were
willing to go. That you didn’t make empty threats. So why, Alex?
Now I’m asking. Why did you do it?"

"Because my grandfather had just died."
Miranda turned to see Richard behind her. He was holding an
envelope. "Isn’t that right? Grandpa Hendrickson had just died, and
you’d just bought up his company. And now Mom was starting to think
about living her life, finally. She was thinking about leaving Dad.
That’s what Tom told you. And you just couldn’t have that, right?
Because then it would only be a matter of time before the whole
world knew how you got everything you had."

"It wasn’t that simple." Miranda felt like a
rope had just snapped.

"It never is," Richard said. "Just tell me
one thing: did you know what Dad might do?"

Alex shook his head, but Miranda didn’t
believe him. "I never would have—"

"Save it," Richard said and thrust the
envelope into Alex’s chest.

He looked at the envelope. "What is
this?"

"I’m returning something I don’t want. But
thanks anyway." Richard took Miranda’s hand and they turned and
walked away.

Alex looked at the envelope, then at Miranda.
She wasn’t going to turn around. After a long moment, he walked
away. "I tried," he said to himself as he walked out to the
street.