The Crush (50 page)

Rennie reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly. "I heard you'd gone to Tennessee to see your daughters."

"A Nashville policewoman met my flight and told me what had happened. I never even left the airport. Took the next flight back. Oren's supervisor met me at DFW and drove me straight here." She paused. "You said "they.""

"What?"

"You said "they" think Oren's going to make it."

"I was referring to the surgical team."

"I thought you--"

"I wasn't even allowed to observe, much less perform the surgery. Under the circumstances that would have been very awkward. But he had an excellent team working on him."

"I would have requested you."

"Thanks for that." Moved to tears, Rennie turned away and punched the elevator button again.

"Is it true, Rennie? Wick did this?"

Sadly she lowered her head, nodding.

Grace said, "That's what I was told, but I thought there must be some mistake. I can't believe it."

"Neither can I. It's ... incomprehensible.

What could have driven him to do this? The two of them have been through so much together, been such good friends. Wick thinks the world of your husband." Head still down, she rubbed her eyes. "Detective Wesley is in ICU and Wick's in jail."

"He's in love with you."

Rennie's head came up quickly.

"He is." Grace held Rennie's astonished stare until an elevator arrived and the doors slid open. "I've got to go."

"Yes. By all means."

Grace quickly boarded the elevator. Rennie waited until the doors had closed before she turned to go. Yesterday's unseasonable rain was a memory. It was blistering hot on the doctors' parking lot. She would never again traverse it without thinking of Lee Howell. His murder had been cataclysmic, but this tragic chain of events had really begun when she'd announced the jury's verdict. "We find the defendant not guilty."

Her house was dark when she arrived. As always, she drove her jeep into her garage and entered through the kitchen door. She went straight to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water. She stood at the kitchen sink until she had drunk all of it.

She passed through her living room, went down the dark hallway and into her bedroom. She switched on the nightstand lamp and undressed. When she was down to her underwear, she went into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucets. She chose a scented gel and took a long shower.

Wrapped in her favorite, most comfortable robe, she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She carried it with her into the living room and sat down in her favorite spot in the corner of the sofa.

She sipped her wine and thought back to the night she'd fallen asleep here and later had been called to an emergency at the hospital. The patient had had a critical stab wound to the back.

Wick. She had caused him so much pain.

Wesley too. He and his whole family. And now ... God, now.

Her head fell back against the sofa cushions.

She closed her eyes, but tears slid through her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. They had all suffered because of her and that damned verdict.

She sat there for a long while, with her head back and her eyes closed. That was how he found her.

Or rather, that was how she was when she sat up, turned, and said, "Hello, Lozada."

He was standing behind the sofa, inches away, looking down at her. "I've been expecting you."

He smiled, pleased. "Have you, Rennie?"

Hearing him say her name, seeing that reptilian smile, almost made her throw up the wine.

Placing the glass on the coffee table, she stood up and came around the end of the sofa to face him.

"I knew you'd come when you heard about what happened to Oren Wesley."

"Your boyfriend can't control his temper. An unfortunate character trait. It was only a matter of time before he self-destructed. Wesley?"

He shrugged. "His problem is choosing the wrong friends."

"How'd you find out? It hasn't been on the news. Security was so tight at the hospital that only a handful of staff knew Wesley's identity and the nature of his injury. You must have an informant in the FWPD. Who told you?"

"A little birdy," he whispered. "He's a cowardly little birdy. I didn't believe him at first, but I've checked out the sad tale, and, alas, it's true."

He reached out to finger a strand of hair that lay against her chest. She forced herself not to recoil, but he must have sensed her revulsion because he smiled that smile again. "You look lovely tonight."

"I don't look lovely at all. I'm tired. Weary, actually. Of everything."

"Your trip must've been exhausting."

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what, my dear?"

"How'd you get from Galveston to my ranch before daybreak?"

"I told you before, Rennie, I don't reveal trade secrets. If I did, I'd soon be out of business."

"It was quite a feat."

He laughed. "I don't have wings, if that's what you're thinking."

When her palm connected with his cheek, it made a sound as emphatic as an exploding firecracker.

"That's for killing my horses."

No longer laughing or smiling, he gripped her wrist so hard she cried out in pain. He whipped her around and thrust her hand up between her shoulder blades. His breath was hot against her ear. "I ought to kill you right now for doing that."

"You're going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"

"How could I possibly let you live, Rennie? You have only yourself to blame. You should have allowed me to cherish you the way I wanted. Instead you chose to be manhandled by that crude cowboy ex-cop." He drew her tighter against him and pushed her hand up higher. "After an insult like that, you leave me no choice but to kill you both. I'm only sorry he's in jail so he won't get to watch you die. But one can't have everything."

The pain was considerable, but she didn't struggle. She didn't even whimper. "They should've locked you up years ago, Lozada. Not for being a killer, but for being insanely delusional.

Don't you get it? I wouldn't have had you near me even if Wick Threadgill didn't exist.

You're a creep."

He clicked open the switchblade and placed it across her throat. "Before I finish with you, you'll be begging me to spare your life."

"I'll never beg you for a damn thing. I might have pleaded with you to spare my horses, but you didn't give me a chance. When you killed them, you played your trump card as far as I'm concerned. I'm over you, Lozada. I'm over being afraid of you."

"Oh, I doubt that." Lowering the knife, he patted the flat side of the blade against her nipple.

Reflexively she sucked in a quick breath.

"See?" he chuckled. "You're very afraid, Rennie."

It was true. She was terrified, but still she refused to show it. "I won't fight you, Lozada. For twenty years, every day of my life has been a bonus. I won't beg you to let me live. If that's what you're waiting for, you're only wasting your time."

"Such courage. And for that, I hate to kill you, Rennie, I really do. You're a remarkable woman. I hope you understand how badly I feel about the way our affair must end."

"We never had an affair, Lozada. As for understanding, I understand that the only way you can get a woman's attention is to terrorize her."

He drew her tighter against him and ground his crotch against her bottom. "Feel that? That's what gets women's attention. Plenty of women."

She remained silent.

"Say pretty please, Rennie." He slid his tongue down the length of her neck.

"Say pretty please and I may let you suck it before I kill you."

"Oh, Lo-za-da."

At Wick's singsong voice, Rennie felt him start.

"Yeah, that's right. That's the barrel of my three-fifty-seven in your ear. Blink and you're history."

"Please blink, Lozada. Pretty please," Oren Wesley taunted from the connecting kitchen door. His handgun was aimed directly at Lozada's head.

"Drop the blade!" Wick ordered.

Lozada chuckled and raised the razor edge back to Rennie's throat. "Go ahead and pull the trigger, Threadgill. If you want to see her blood gush, shoot me."

"That's just like you, you chicken-livered son of a bitch. Using a woman to save your ass.

Attacking her from behind, too. Another of your-what you'd call it?--unfortunate character traits.

"But if that's the way you want it, Ricky Roy, fine by me," he said easily. "When I fire, Oren will, too. See, we've been practicing all day. Ever since we staged that little scene for your pal Weenie. Messy as hell, all that fake blood and all, but obviously convincing.

"Now, here's what'll happen. Our bullets will enter your skull. His may be a thousandth of a second behind mine. But pretty damn near simultaneous, wouldn't you say, Oren?"

"That's what I'd say."

"They might even intersect at some point, Ricky Roy, but in any case, your brains will spatter like shit from a tall goose."

"She'll be dead by then," Lozada said.

"Let her go, Lozada."

"Not a chance."

"What do you think, Oren?" Wick said. "Are you tired of this crap?"

"I'm tired of this crap."

"Me too." And with his left hand, Wick fired a small pistol into Lozada's right elbow, point blank. Bone shattered. Nerves and blood vessels were severed. The switchblade fell from useless fingers. Rennie dropped to the floor, as she had been instructed to do. Lozada spun around, left hand raised, thumb extended, jabbing toward Wick's eye socket. Wick fired the .357 directly into his chest.

Lozada's eyes widened with astonishment. Then Wick said, "This is for Joe," and fired a second time.

Lozada fell backward onto the floor.

Rennie crawled over to him and immediately checked his neck for a pulse.

"His heart's still beating." She ripped open his shirt.

"Leave him."

She looked up at Wick. "I can't."

Then she turned back to Lozada and set about trying to save his life.

Chapter 34

It was eight o'clock the following morning before Rennie left the hospital. Wick was outside waiting for her in his pickup truck with the engine running. He leaned over and opened the passenger door for her.

They had timed her departure to coincide with Oren's press conference so the media would be occupied and she could make a clean getaway. As they pulled away from the hospital, they saw news vans lining the street and a cluster of reporters and cameramen surrounding the lobby entrance.

"What's he telling them?" she asked.

"That the FWPD pulled off a flawless sting operation, with the cooperation of Tarrant General Hospital personnel. One of the city's most notorious criminals, one Ricky Roy Lozada, died from gunshot wounds he received while resisting arrest."

Before turning him over to paramedics, Rennie had heroically worked to keep his heart beating. She had ridden in the ambulance with him to the emergency room, but upon their arrival he was pronounced dead. Wick had personally escorted his body to the morgue.

Rennie had then insisted on examining Wick, even ordering a CAT scan to check for internal bleeding. He'd told Oren not to hold back, to make their fight look authentic. Oren had taken him at his word. He felt like a punching bag, but Rennie's examination had turned up nothing worrisome.

"Oren's going to try and keep your name out of the story," Wick told her.

"I will appreciate that."

"But it might be unavoidable, Rennie."

"If it's unavoidable, then I'll deal with it."

Their destination had been predetermined. She wouldn't be returning to the house in which Lozada had died. Once they were headed west on the interstate, Wick reached for her hand. "I died a thousand deaths while he was holding that knife on you."

"I was afraid that something had happened to detain you, that you and Oren wouldn't be in place. When I got home I was tempted to look in the kitchen pantry and under the bed to make sure you were there."

"Hell couldn't have kept me away."

"It was a daring plan, Wick."

"I just thank God it worked."

He had resolved that he and Rennie had no hope of a future until the problem of Lozada was resolved. In other words, until he was taken out of the picture. And that had been the key phrase: out of the picture. His mind had snagged on those four words. It occurred to him that if Lozada thought he was out of the picture, and Oren was out of the picture, he would make a move on Rennie.

"The toughest part of the plan for me was the necessity of placing you in danger."

"But I was already in danger."

"That's the conclusion I finally drew. And you were going to remain in danger unless and until I forced Lozada's hand." Yesterday morning, he had got up well before dawn, called Oren, and outlined the plan. Oren had liked the idea, made a few suggestions of his own, and put things into motion.