Текст книги "Shroud of Roses"

Автор книги: Gloria Ferris

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

CHAPTER

forty-eight

“Dwayne! Are you okay? Get up!”

“Can’t breathe – got hit in the vest. Open … door to the hallway. Need … to find cover.”

I did as he asked, and helped drag him out of the atrium. Faint alien light shone from the plant rooms, turning the corridor a sickly green. Dwayne crawled toward the closest doorway – the women’s washroom. The sound of smashing glass from the atrium sent my heart rate into triple digits.

“No! We’ll be trapped.” The washrooms had solid walls.

I flung open the door to Plant Room F. We were assaulted by warm, humid air that smelled of earth and vegetation. The ventilation system whirred and the lighting tracks hummed, helping to mask our movements. I hoped. Chest-high, broad-leafed plants filled the space, and there were narrow paths between them for the workers to walk along. Tables lined the room, with more plants standing against them.

The intruder had a gun. I had … what? A bottle of herbicide spray? I needed to find a weapon, but I saw nothing else other than flower pots, bags of earth, and a few hand trowels.

“Get under this table closest to the door,” Dwayne gasped. “The door opens against it. It’s my best chance of taking the guy down.”

Was he nuts? I pushed aside some plants and helped Dwayne crawl under the table. I followed him, then pulled the pots back into place. There wasn’t much light under the table, but I tried to get a closer look at Dwayne.

He wasn’t bleeding, but he held his right arm at an awkward angle. “The bullet is stuck in your vest, Dwayne.”

He looked down and groaned. “The impact may have broken some ribs. Radio…. My coat is in the atrium.” He managed to pull his gun out but couldn’t lift his arm.

Where the hell was my cell? My costume had no pockets … it was in my tote in the washroom. Shit! “Dwayne. Do you have your cell on you?”

He felt around with his left hand and pulled it out. I snatched it from him. “What’s your security code? Type it in!” I whispered. I tapped the texting app. “What’s Redfern under?”

“I don’t text him. Let me have it. I’ll phone him.”

Thank God, Redfern answered right away. “Chief, there’s an intruder at the greenhouse. I’ve been shot. We’re in the plant room nearest the women’s washroom. Under a table.”

I could hear Redfern shouting at him. I removed my high-heeled sandals.

“She’s okay, but I don’t know if I can use my gun. I’ll try. Hurry.”

“Okay. Let me have it back. I have to turn off the sound now.” I’d almost come to grief once before when my cell rang at an inopportune moment, and it wasn’t going to happen again tonight.

He slumped onto the floor, his eyes fluttering. He was going into shock.

Shit!

I shook his shoulder. “Give me your gun. It’s our only chance.”

His eyes opened. “No. I’ll lose my job. An officer never gives up his gun. Never.”

His hand wrapped around the Glock’s hand grip, but loosely. His index finger had fallen away from the trigger. I pulled the barrel away from his body. His fingers twitched but he couldn’t reach out.

“Bliss … You can’t …”

“Quiet!”

The door opened. I tried to remember facts I’d heard from Redfern and other cops, but never paid attention to. The Glock was a .40-calibre semi-automatic pistol. No safety, so it was ready to go. One pull on the trigger produced one bullet. The magazine contained fifteen rounds. It had been more than three years since I’d held a gun and aimed at a paper target. Would I be able to shoot a human being? I guess I’d find out.

I put one hand on Dwayne to quiet him. A pair of boots halted not eighteen inches from our hiding spot. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the cry of surprise. Jimmy Choos! Suddenly everything made sense. I wanted to punch myself for not understanding sooner. The Weasel wasn’t getting his own hands dirty.

I scampered through the warren of table legs, depending on the overhead humming and whirring to mask the sound of my movements. I hoped that the tropical potted plants lined up in front of the tables prevented Andrea from catching sight of me. I prayed that Dwayne didn’t cry out in pain and give his position away. I had no doubt Andrea would shoot him again. No time to think about Redfern or where he might be. I couldn’t count on anyone else to save me. At that moment, I knew I could put a bullet in her chest to save my life, or Dwayne’s. No more doubts.

“Bli-iss?” Andrea was clearly trying to pinpoint my position. “You know I’m going to kill you and your uniformed minder. Two more deaths don’t matter to me. I heard you talking about the photos hidden in the glitter ball. I came back for them. Finding you here is just a bonus. Saves me time. Since the ball has been sliced open, you must have the pictures on you.”

I was under a table directly opposite the door – opposite Andrea and her gun. My hands, as I held Dwayne’s Glock, were becoming slick with sweat. “Why kill Sophie and Kelly Quantz?”

As I spoke, I crawled forward. Just in time, it turned out, as a bullet hit the tropical plants directly in front of the spot I had just vacated. That made two bullets she’d used. It didn’t matter whether she had a second Mauser or a Sauer. Both chambered eight rounds. Six more to go. If she had another pistol that chambered more than eight, I was beyond screwed.

“After that girl’s body was found in the locker, Sophie was going to tell the authorities.” Andrea snorted derisively. “She was there when Michael accidentally knocked the girl down. At the time, Sophie promised not to say anything. She knew Michael didn’t do it on purpose, and it would destroy his future if people knew. She should have kept her promise. I met her in the church instead of Michael. It was so easy. Same with her drunkard husband. He tried to blackmail Michael. I met him at the swamp and took care of him. Even easier. I thought that was the end of it, so I threw the Mauser away. I didn’t want it found in my possession. Not registered, you see, so can’t be traced back to us. It was my grandfather’s, but I had no choice.”

So far, Andrea hadn’t moved from the doorway. I could see the lower part of her body weaving from side to side as she talked. She was trying to pinpoint my location. The next time I spoke, she would know I was making my way toward her, toward the door.

“What about me, Andrea?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I doubled back, toward Dwayne.

Her third and fourth bullets would have hit me had I stayed where I was. Every inch of my skin poured sweat and I was sure the Glock was going to slide right out of my grip when I finally pointed it at her.

“You’ve been making trouble for Michael since he threw you out like the piece of trash you are. You were there the night that girl died, and your snooping has caused us trouble ever since. As long as you’re around, our political career is in jeopardy. I decided to kill you after Kelly Quantz turned out to be so easy. I just ran home and got another gun. It was my grandfather’s, too. So fortunate that it uses the same ammunition.” She laughed, almost gaily. “I’ll throw this one away as well. After. Then your boyfriend won’t be able to connect us to either gun.”

Andrea’s chattiness dwindled into silence. I tried desperately to think of something else to say. “Why did Mike argue with Faith?”

This time, I fast-crawled in the opposite direction until I was close to the door, on the opposite side of the room from Dwayne.

Two bullets smashed into the row of pots. Several exploded, throwing plants and earth under the table. A pain shot across my calf and I stifled a yelp. Did a piece of flying clay hit me? How many bullets was that? Six?

Andrea spat with contempt. “She was pregnant. Can you imagine? The slut was pregnant. She wanted Michael to help support her bastard.”

I heard what she said, but the information didn’t shock me. What now? She had at least two bullets left. I could shoot her legs from under the table. Yes. That’s what I’d do. But I preferred to wait until she was out of bullets.

“I want the pictures. And I am going to kill you.”

Dwayne groaned, and I watched her body swing away from me, toward the corner table. She couldn’t see him yet, but in just a few precious seconds, she would find him.

Still, she stood in the doorway. I watched her Jimmy Choos pivot in the direction of Dwayne’s hiding spot and she took a step. With one foot, she shoved a couple of pots aside. From across the room, I saw Dwayne’s hand move limply. She saw it, too.

I didn’t make a conscious decision. I wasn’t even sure the damn Glock would fire when I pulled the trigger. Maybe Redfern didn’t allow Dwayne to carry a loaded gun. Maybe I was going to fucking dine with my ancestors tonight. But I crawled out from under the table and stood up. Somebody screamed, “Drop the weapon.” I thought for an instant that it was coming from me.

Right, I was a fucking Dirty Harry. Make my day. She spun around and we both fired.

I missed. She didn’t.

CHAPTER

forty-nine

Dwayne had taken the 4 X 4. No way would a cruiser get through the heavy drifts covering the highway. The concession road was sure to be worse, and the end of the greenhouse driveway into the parking lot – impassable.

Neil spotted a massive municipal snowplow idling in front of the Wing Nut. He ran toward it, shouting for Thea and Bernie to follow him. He banged on the door of the truck. When the window lowered, he recognized Fang Davidson.

He looked up into the bearded face. “I need to get to the greenhouse, now! Dwayne and Bliss are there with the killer. Dwayne’s been shot. Drive us.”

“Man, I don’t think I should do that,” Fang began. “I’m municipal, not authorized to drive on the highway past the town limits…”

“Did you not hear me? This is an emergency situation. I’ll take responsibility.”

“Jump in, and let’s ride! Nobody threatens our Bliss and gets away with it.”

Fang agreed so readily, Neil figured he was up for it all along, even eager. He called another officer over. “Get an ambulance over to the Belcourt Greenhouse. I don’t care how they do it. Get another plough if you have to. We have an officer down. Maybe more. And get as much backup over there as possible.”

The front seat of the behemoth was wide enough to fit the four of them comfortably, albeit without seatbelts. Fang swung around the accident vehicles still waiting to be processed. A hundred metres farther, he manoeuvred the truck around the highway barrier.

Once past the barrier, Fang lowered the plough and hit the gas. Snow flew to the side of the highway. Industrial windshield wipers scraped the curtains of falling snow aside almost before they hit the window. Fang took his foot off the gas to round the corner onto Concession 10, then sped up again.

Neil turned to Bernie and Thea. “Go in with your weapons ready. I’ll try to take him out with the Taser. If I can’t … I’ll get out of your way.”

Fang looked away from the road long enough to catch Neil’s eye. “If this is the guy who killed Faith, shoot the bastard. Never mind your sissy-ass Taser!”

On one level, Neil agreed, but he wanted the suspect alive. There were too many unanswered questions about all three deaths. If Dwayne and Bliss were dead, all bets were off. He shook off the cold paralysis of fear that threatened to shut down his ability to make the correct decision. He needed to remain clear-headed. Bliss couldn’t be dead.

“Did you raise Dwayne on the radio, Chief?” Thea’s voice was steady, but Neil knew she had to be sick with worry for Dwayne. He should have brought someone else with him, but Thea – and Bernie – were his two most experienced officers at the accident scene.

“No. He called me on his cell instead of the radio. I don’t want to chance using it now. It might put them in more danger.”

Fang gave the steering wheel a hard yank to the right. The plough hit the eight-foot snow drift that covered the entrance to the greenhouse parking lot. It cut through without hesitation, throwing snow fifteen feet sideways. Fang stood on the brakes and the truck shuddered to a stop.

The iron light standards surrounding the parking area were dark. The front of the greenhouse where the foyer and offices were situated was cloaked in darkness. A faint greenish light emanated from the interior of the greenhouse, reflecting up through the high glass roofs. On a clear night, the glow could be seen for miles, but tonight’s heavy snowfall absorbed it like a white shroud.

“Stay here,” Neil ordered Fang. To the others, he said, “We don’t want to announce ourselves by breaking in through the front entrance. We’ll go around back to the atrium.”

The path to the back door of the atrium was completely covered over with snow, heavy as sand. They slogged through it, with every nerve in Neil’s body screaming for speed. Fear gripped his heart.

The atrium door was locked, but a section of glass wall had been smashed in, the opening large enough for them to squeeze through. “Quiet now. Weapons ready.”

Was he making a mistake carrying a Taser in his hand instead of his Glock? Both Thea and Bernie were good shots – on the practice range. Neither of them had used their guns on a person. Neither had he.

They ran silently across the atrium. As Neil’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw a helmet and a parka by the door. Not Cornwall’s or Dwayne’s. Good. Maybe he’d have a chance with the Taser. He peered into the hallway. A woman’s voice. Not Bliss. “Subject is female. Sounds like Andrea Bains. She may have killed two people. Consider her dangerous,” he whispered.

He ran into the corridor, Thea and Bernie on either side.

He reached the open doorway to the first plant room. If Andrea Bains glanced up, she would see the three cops bearing down on her. But she was looking at her feet, pointing a gun at something on the floor. No, not the floor, she was aiming under the table.

Before he could shout a warning, Bliss crawled out from beneath another table, directly behind Andrea. She held a Glock in her hand. He readied the Taser and sensed Bernie and Thea fan out on either side.

He yelled “Drop the weapon,” but didn’t wait for compliance. He threw himself into the plant room and hit the floor. Bernie and Thea crouched on either side of the doorway, taking aim. He pulled the trigger the same instant Andrea whirled on Bliss and they both fired.

Bliss’s bullet crashed through the glass over their heads. Then she fell.

CHAPTER

fifty

The bitch had shot me twice. Or, more accurately, she had winged me twice. If the medics don’t have to dig a bullet out of you, you’re winged, not shot. That’s what the intern told me when the ambulance dropped me off. He slapped a couple of dressings on and said I’d have to wait to have my shoulder stitched up and my calf treated. They had to look after the cop first. Then they shoved me into a cubicle with a curtain around me, alone. I couldn’t stop shaking and I was so cold. What I wouldn’t give for my jeans, sweatshirt, and a heavy blanket.

The injury to my calf hadn’t been caused by a piece of flower pot after all. That’s how close the bitch’s bullet came. I still buzzed with adrenaline, and replayed again and again the sight of Andrea’s body jerking when Redfern zapped her with the Taser. Then Bernie handcuffed her while she was still vibrating. Excellent! I think she might have peed her pants. I was only sorry I didn’t have video.

I heard a moan, close by and familiar. Wrapping the thin cotton blanket around me, I slid off the bed and peeked around the curtain. Across the room was another curtain, another bed. I scuttled over the cold tile in my bare feet. My calf hardly hurt.

“Hey, Dwayne! How goes it, buddy? What’s the damage?”

Dwayne lay propped against a nest of pillows. While I had to wait for medical treatment, they had rushed him into x-ray, then wrapped his chest with bandages. Oh, to be a cop.

His face twisted in pain. “Three broken ribs. They taped me up. But you’d think they’d give a guy something for the pain. I feel like my lung is punctured. What about you? You’re bleeding.”

“Yep. Shot twice! And not even stitched yet.”

“You look pretty bad. But if I were you, I’d lie down and try to bleed a bit more. When the Chief gets back, we’re in for a world of trouble. You might want to wash your face, too. Maybe take a weed-whacker to your hair.”

“In trouble for what? Almost being killed?”

“For you taking my gun. They can charge you with lots of things. Like assault with a weapon, possession of weapons dangerous to the public, careless use of a firearm. Me? I gave up my firearm and I think that’s a hanging offence. This might even mean my badge.”

I leaned out to make sure no ears were in flapping distance. “That’s bullshit. But here’s what we’re going to do.” I couldn’t believe how sharp my mind was, considering the past few hours. “We’re going to tell Redfern that you were unconscious and I took your gun to defend our lives. If I get charged with anything, bring it!” I was a pro at doing forlorn and pathetic. The judge would give me a medal. Maybe ask me to marry him.

He mulled that over, then said, “I’ll go for that. I lost consciousness due to the pain of my injury. You tried to save us both. Too bad you aren’t a better shot, Bliss. If the others hadn’t arrived in the nick of time, we would both be dead now.”

I heard voices in the hall, getting louder. I pointed at Dwayne and said, “Remember, zip it. Volunteer nothing.”

I was back on my bed by the time Redfern pulled back the curtain. I took one look at his face and burst into tears. Again. Crap, this had to stop. I hadn’t seen him since the bitch shot me. Suddenly, Redfern had been there by my side, touching me, brushing my hair back from my face. Then the EMTs arrived and scooped me up with Dwayne and transported us to the hospital where I had been waiting for hours by myself. I cried harder. Oh, man, I hated myself. I was turning into a wimp.

He went into the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp washcloth. “Come on, now, Bliss. Everything’s fine. You have a few little injuries, nothing a couple of stitches won’t cure. We have Andrea Bains in custody. She’s being processed right now.”

I wiped my cheeks and was horrified at the mess on the cloth. I had forgotten the face paint. God, I hope no one took pictures. “She told me she killed Sophie because Sophie was going to come forward and tell you that Mike killed Faith. She said it was ‘accidental’. Then she shot Kelly Quantz because he tried to blackmail Mike.”

“That’s about what we figured. Did she happen to mention why she was after you?”

“I threatened Mike’s political career or something equally lame. Do you know about the Polaroids in the glitter ball?” I wiped the makeup off my eyes.

“Uh, no.” Redfern disappeared again and returned with another damp cloth. He scrubbed at my chin. “Sorry to wipe off the lizard tongue. It was kind of hot.”

I told him what Chico had done on grad night and just remembered today. “Andrea heard Chico tell me during the fundraiser this afternoon. That’s the main reason she came back. Finding me there was just a bonus, she said. And Dwayne wasn’t important.” I stopped and we listened to the loud groaning from the other side of the room.

I’d like to say I have a flair for the dramatic, but the truth is, I just remembered the Polaroids because they were scratching my sensitive parts. I reached into my tights and withdrew them, one at a time, enjoying the expression on Redfern’s face. “How many is that? Ten? I thought there were more.” I fished around and, sure enough, two more had slid down, almost to my knees.

“I didn’t have a chance to look at them. Do they show anything helpful?”

He looked at each one in turn, before passing them back to me. “Maybe a photography expert could raise some images, but I doubt anything will show up clearly, even if we get the funds for it. Unless one of them showed Mike Bains actually shoving Faith Davidson into the bathroom sink, they wouldn’t help in court anyway.”

“I was married to a murderer for eight years. Thank God he traded down for an older model. I may be scarred for life, though.”

Redfern actually smiled. “I doubt it. But you will have two new physical scars to add to the one you got last summer saving my life.” He ran his fingers along the still-sensitive area on my forearm.

“You saved mine tonight, Redfern. Guess that makes us even.”

He took my hand. “I’m sorry I left you here so long by yourself. I wanted to call on Mr. Bains and tell him the news about his wife’s arrest for two murders and two attempted murders. He’s admitting nothing, and I doubt his wife will confess he was aware of her actions. Their residence is being searched right now in case there are more prohibited weapons. If so, we have him on that anyway.”

“But she told me he was responsible for Faith’s death! Can’t you arrest him for that?”

“I need some evidence, something more than hearsay and speculation. I’ll speak to the Crown Attorney in the morning. We’ll decide how to proceed. In any case, I’m quite sure his political career is over.”

“That’s not enough.”

“Agreed. But the truth is, we cops bag ’em, we don’t convict ’em. All I can do is present the Crown with as much evidence as possible. The rest is up to the prosecutor.”

I remembered something else Andrea had said, something that had barely registered at the time. “Faith was pregnant. With Mike’s child. That’s why he killed her. I don’t believe it was an accident.”

Redfern didn’t look surprised at this news bulletin. What else did he know that I didn’t? “We’ll never know for sure, but would Sophie lie for Mike all these years if she watched him cold-bloodedly murder her classmate?”

I threw myself back onto my pillow. “You’re right. We’ll never know the facts, will we? Never.”

“I have one question for you.” His navy eyes were serious.

“Yes?” Shit, what now?

“Have we reverted to using each other’s last names? I only ask because I don’t want to get into trouble again.”

I thought about that. “What do we care what other people think? We’re comfortable using last names, right? It’s natural for us. It doesn’t mean we’re putting up emotional barriers. When I say ‘Neil’, I’m thinking ‘Redfern’ anyway.”

“Okay by me. You’ll always be my Cornwall.”

I reached up and ran my hands through his spikes. They looked sharp, but were anything but. Our lips touched and heat surged through my chilled and battered body. I really think somebody should write a research paper on the effects of adrenaline on sexual arousal. I’d sign up for that study.

There was the sound of a throat being cleared, and when we looked up, a figure stood on our side of the curtain. It was Dr. Fingers, and he looked official. Gloved, gowned, and – no way was he touching me. I pulled the skimpy hospital blanket over my chest.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Bliss. I was in the OR with an emergency C-section. Just a few stitches in that arm, and I’ll have a look at your leg. Then you can get out of here.”

“Hi Ed,” Redfern said. “Have you heard? We found our killer. Killers, I should say, but only one of them may be convicted.”

“I was talking to Thea in the waiting room. She told me. Glad you were on hand to save your young lady, here.” His eyes twinkled icily at me through his sparkly clean glasses. I restrained myself from reaching up and placing a thumbprint on each lens.

Instead, I squeezed Redfern’s arm. “Get me a real doctor!”

He and the quack exchanged amused glances. That really ticked me off.

I grabbed Redfern’s tie and yanked his face down until it was inches from my own. “He’s a fucking gynecologist!”