Chapter Fourteen
Jake marveled that Senator Westingly didn’t flinch when Penny introduced herself as Jianna Ricci. His practiced smile, the one seen on the front page of newspapers, remained intact. In light of what Penny had said about the man, the trust-me blue eyes were steely, calculating, and his plastered-on expression appeared sleazy.
He addressed Jake. “And you are?”
Standing firm and as tall as his five ten frame allowed, he answered, “Jake Winters, a friend.”
The senator seemed to assess him for a moment. Then the older man’s eyes squinted, glanced beyond him, and he licked his lips. Although the smile never quite left Westingly’s mouth, the slightest show of unease bolstered Jake’s confidence.
“All right, Ms. Ricci. Please come in.” He nodded at the two suits guarding outside the door. “Why don’t you two get some refreshments? You both look thirsty.” He stepped aside for Jake and Penny to enter the windowless room, glanced into the outer crowd for a moment, and shut the door.
The senator stepped behind a desk and pointed at two chairs, the only furniture in the twelve by twelve room, except for a file cabinet. “Please have a seat.”
“I prefer to stand, thank you.” Penny’s voice was clipped.
He stopped mid-sit, and righted. “Have it your way. What can I do for you?”
“You know who I am, don’t you?”
Jake inched closer to her and slipped his hands into his coat pockets. His pulse kicked up when his fingers brushed the gun.
“Ricci. The name is familiar.” He dragged out the syllables of the last word.
Jake clenched his jaw, recognizing the subtle taunt.
“I used to know a Larenz Ricci.”
Penny’s chin jutted upward. “I’m his daughter. The one who got away.”
“Got away?”
“Please don’t insult me and play dumb.” Her hand slipped lower on the shoulder strap of her bag. “You know what I mean.”
Jake’s weight went heavy on the balls of his feet as if ready to spring. The muscles tensed across his shoulders, and he made a silent plea for Penny not to go for the gun she thought was in her purse.
Westingly’s gaze twice darted past them toward the door. His chest heaved with an intake of breath and a slow release. “Ms. Ricci, I have no intention of insulting you. I’m just not sure what you’re talking about.”
“It’s over, senator. I’ve hidden from you for thirteen years, and I’m done.” Penny fingered a bracelet on her wrist, twirling it jerkily, while her voice caught slightly when she said thirteen years. “I was a scared little girl when you had my family murdered, but I’m no longer afraid. And I’m not going to let you get away with murdering my family or my best friend.” She fisted her hands and ended on a defiant tone.
The senator’s face remained neutral. Penny canted forward, and although Jake couldn’t see beneath her winter clothing, it was obvious every muscle in her body tensed as she glowered at Westingly.
Jake took his left hand from his pocket and brushed her arm, but she seemed oblivious to his touch as she continued.
“Your hit man shot the wrong woman, and I plan to tell the world. I know every fact and figure from your days of stealing from the government. Once the FBI confirms what I know, I think they’ll be more than happy to look closer at the dead people you’ve left behind in your climb to the top of the political ladder.”
Behind them, the sound of the door opened and closed. Jake turned to face Special Agent Vince Elams. He heard Penny’s gasp. His own reaction was confusion. What was the agent doing here?
“Ah, Agent Elams.”
Did he hear relief in the senator’s voice?
“Come in. Your timing is impeccable. Ms. Ricci just explained to me how the FBI is going to investigate me.”
The agent silently crossed behind and around to the side of the desk. He faced them. His dark eyes bore down on Penny. “You really should’ve saved your story for me this afternoon.”
Jake peered at the senator. His body language appeared too calm for the situation. The agent coming in at this exact moment was all wrong. An overwhelming urge to haul Penny out of there shivered down his arms.
Penny glared at the FBI agent. “Did you follow us?” She spat the words.
“Yes, I did.”
“Then you know we made another stop before coming here.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“The editor was very helpful.” Her normally seductive, pouty lips curled in a malicious sneer.
“You didn’t find someone foolish enough to believe you, did you?” The agent asked, his brow slightly furrowed.
“My details are so exact anyone would be a fool not to investigate. It won’t take an Einstein to confirm my facts. The good senator’s name will be mud.” She turned her sneer on the politician. “It helped that the editor is not exactly a fan of yours, Senator Westingly.”
“What the hell is she talking about, Elams?” For the first time, the smile fell from the mouth of the freckle-faced senator.
“Ms. Ricci and her friend visited the Arizona Daily Sun before coming to see you.” One corner of the agent’s mouth twitched as if suppressing a grin.
Penny had been right all along. Elams and Westingly were obviously well acquainted. His chest muscles constricted and breath came in short huffs. Penny confronting a politician was one thing. Confronting an FBI agent with a gun was quite another.
When her hand went to the bag on her shoulder, Jake started, and gripped the gun without thinking. His fingers relaxed when she lifted one of the sets of copies of her notes.
Penny tossed them on the desk. “Have a look. Once the digging starts, you’ll be six feet under in trouble.”
Stone-faced, the senator skimmed the first page. “Did you know about this?” He waved the papers in Elams’ face.
The agent’s eyes narrowed at the senator. “I haven’t read it, but you aren’t surprised, are you? You assumed she knew as much.”
Westingly opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. The agent’s steady stare, tight-jawed and lethal, seemed to give him pause, and he looked away.
Beside Jake, Penny jerked. “It’s you.” Her voice rose as she glared at the agent. “You’re the murderer!”
The senator snickered. “She is a bright one. No wonder she slipped through your fingers for so many years, Elams.” He crumpled the copies in his hand. “Let’s get this over with.”
Every muscle in Jake’s body told him to run. He grabbed Penny’s arm, tugging at her resistance, and backed toward the door.
“No, no, Jake.” The agent pulled the gun from his hip holster and aimed at them. “Stay put.”
He stilled, his grip on Penny tightened. “You can’t shoot us here.” In his peripheral vision he gauged how much of a lunge it would be for the door. Another door, to his left probably led to the back of the building and was closer, but also brought them slightly nearer to Elams. No doubt the agent could get off two shots before they made it to either door. But that would be bizarre. Why would Elams think he could get away with this?
“Show them your other gun.” Westingly’s sickening, sleazy smile remained on them as he directed Elams.
The agent’s mouth tightened at the senator’s command. He glowered at the politician while from his pocket, he brought a bundle in a white cloth. He set the package on a corner of the desk and jerked the cloth away to reveal a .22. His eyes grew darker and the line of his mouth harder. “Planning to do it yourself, Senator?”
“Don’t be stupid, Elams. I’m a God-fearing man of the people. Murder is your game. That and protecting good men like myself.”
The muscles of the agent’s face couldn’t get any tighter.
“So, you see, Ms. Ricci, he’s only protecting me.” The senator’s arms extended palms up. The disgusting smile came back. “The gun you used to kill that poor woman will be on the floor next to your body. You brought the same weapon to kill me.” His remark directed at Penny, the smile widened when he gestured to the weapon the agent had set on the desk. He leaned forward, fingers knuckled into loose fists on the top of the desk. “Why would you kill your best friend, Ms. Ricci? Did she find out you murdered your family? Now, your delusional mind blames me, and you stormed in here to shoot me.”
Jake’s brows tightened as the man made a tsking noise, sounding more like a hissing snake than a sympathetic human as he stood straight.
“You planned to shoot me with that very same gun,” the senator continued easily. “The gun you used to kill your mother, your father, and your poor little brother. You’re a sick young woman. How fortunate for me that Agent Elams suspected you were unbalanced and followed you today.” He glanced at Jake. “How unfortunate you dragged your boyfriend down with you.”
This was their plan. He couldn’t let the agent just shoot them. With a hammering heart, his hand gripped the weapon in his pocket. They wouldn’t expect him to have a gun.
Beneath Jake’s arm, Penny trembled even as she tensed. Her teeth bared and angry tears spilled onto her cheeks. He clasped her shoulders, yet remained ready to shove her aside and pull the gun.
She cast her stare on the agent. “I knew you had to be the hit man.” Hate dripped from her words. “I just didn’t know why. Why would you do this? Why would you kill so many people for this awful man?”
“You don’t really need answers to your questions, Ms. Ricci. It’s far more complicated than you could imagine.” Elams’ voice sounded more conversational than menacing, in spite of the Glock staring them in the face.
“You murdered the four most important people in my life.” Her voice cracked, and she gulped back tears. “Nothing—nothing can justify that!”
“There are circumstances that drive us…and need no justification.”
“Are you so evil? Money? Is money more important than life itself? Haven’t you ever loved anyone?” She choked out the last two words, swallowed deeply, and continued in a loud whisper. “No, I suppose not. Truly wicked, evil people can’t love or be loved.”
A small fissure in the burly agent’s stoic posture was visible—a slight wrinkle in the forehead, an infinitesimal dip in his shoulders.
“Oh boo-hoo,” Westingly mocked. “What the fuck are you waiting on, Elams?”
The rise and fall of the agent’s shoulders indicated resignation. Jake hadn’t been good at judging the ass-quotient of many of the men he’d aligned himself with over the last few years, but the reluctance of the assassin pointing the gun at them was easy to read. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t shoot. The senator was the vise, and Elams was being squeezed.
“Do it!” Westingly licked his lips.
Jake’s gut twisted.
Then the agent’s body shifted ever so slightly. The senator’s taunting had caused a change in Elams’ posture. His gun didn’t waver, but his glare slid sideways, taking in the senator’s demeanor.
Jake’s hand tensed on Mandy’s P238. Muffled voices could be heard on the other side of the door.
The senator’s confident smile locked on Penny.
Elams’ slit-eyed glare bored into Westingly.
Jake’s chest rose and fell rapidly with the pinch of tight muscles.
“I love you, Jake.” Penny’s words floated into the quiet. She pulled away from him as her hand dove into her bag.
Elams darted a glance at her movement, and his gun hand moved.
Jake yanked the gun from his pocket and aimed at the agent.
“What the—” Westingly reared back and fell onto his desk chair.
Without moving, Elams flicked a glance at him, then back at the senator. His eyes narrowed to slits.
Jake’s finger pressed lightly on the trigger, but something stopped him—Elams smiled at Westingly. And Elams hadn’t shot at them.
“You stupid, son of a bitch!” The senator shook in his chair. “Pull the damn trigger, Elams, or I’ll—”
The agent’s arm swung slowly to Westingly. “You’ll what, Senator?”
“Quit fucking around.” His attempt at moxie fell flat with the fear contorting his face.
“I think that’s exactly what I should quit doing.”
The shot was deafening.
Jake shook, nearly dropping the gun from his hand. Penny gasped and fell into him, clasping her arms around him. He clutched her to his chest and moved back against the wall.
The senator’s eyes widened, his mouth gawped open, and a rasping noise rose from his throat as blood spread across the front of his shirt. The second shot nailed his head to the chair.
The door burst open, and the senator’s two bodyguards exploded into the room. Penny didn’t know who trembled more as she and Jake huddled together. The gun in his hand cut into her back. She shoved his arm down and directed the hand into his coat pocket. A brief glance of understanding passed between them before the bedlam around the downed senator drew them into the fray.
The taller man rushed Agent Elams, grabbing the gun, and slamming him face down on the desk. He didn’t resist; he hadn’t moved when the bodyguards stormed in. Now, his face smashed against the wood, he gazed at Penny, and she imagined she saw relief in his eyes.
Several people pushed into the room, a woman screamed, and the shorter of the two bodyguards dashed back to shove them out and shut the door.
Short guard pointed at Jake and Penny. “Don’t move.” He depressed keys on the cell in his hand then held the phone to his ear. “Senator Clyde Westingly has been shot. We’re at political headquarters on West Dale Avenue. We need an ambulance and law enforcement.” As he spoke, he trotted over to the bloody senator, put a hand to his neck, looked at his partner, and shook his head.
Penny straightened, lifted Jake’s hand with a gentle shake from his pocket, and intertwined her fingers in his. His other arm still encircled her waist.
He lessened his grip and stared down at her. “You okay?”
She didn’t really know. Words wouldn’t come. She dropped his hand, pushed hair from her face, and surveyed the room. This is what she wanted. The senator slumped dead and bloody in his chair. The man who’d carried out his orders, who’d killed her family and her best friend, would go to jail, at least for the murder of the senator. If she’d felt relief like she saw in the agent’s eyes, she should be happy. Yet, instead, after years of fear and sadness, and most recently anger and hate, only emptiness filled her and numbed her down to the soul.
Jake didn’t press for a verbal response, but drew her closer.
Multiple sirens wailed. Shouting from behind the door preceded an onslaught of uniformed men and women, paramedics and police, crowding into the room. Again the door closed with the scene before her taking on a surreal motion picture effect. In the twelve by twelve room, suits and uniforms swirled against gray walls beneath fluorescent lighting. She waited on the perimeter for her part in the theatrics.
Paramedics surrounded the bloody politician. A policeman yanked Agent Elams to a standing position and handcuffed him, his cheek reddened from being smashed onto the desk, and his outer jacket askew and off his shoulder. He stared straight ahead, not seeming to focus on anything. Penny thought he’d aged in the last half-hour, his face lined and his olive complexion grayed. A policewoman unlocked a door at the back of the room she hadn’t noticed before and nodded at the two officers restraining the agent. They marched him to the now opened door where a police car, motor running, waited in the alley.
As they turned him to slide into the back of the car, she met his eyes. His face was slack, his body easily manipulated by the lawmen. He seemed to study her with dark, glassy eyes as if to memorize every detail of her face. He nodded, and the door closed.
A shiver passed over her and settled in the pit of her stomach. Had he expected to receive absolution? Gratitude? Did he think this evened the score and left him free of guilt? Her stomach turned, and she tightened her muscles against the nausea. Had he killed the senator for her? She glanced at Westingly now lying on a gurney, covered by a pale green sheet. He’d received his just ending. His hit man would pay the price. But her family and Mandy, and the other people who’d been murdered, were still dead. The past couldn’t be changed.
“Ms. Sparks?” Detective Ranclin’s familiar voice sounded beside her.
She dragged her focus from the body, and as if coming out of a dark theater to the bright light of day, blinked to adjust her vision. The warmth of Jake’s arms around her grounded her in the now. Ranclin’s stoic face loomed over her. “Yes, Detective?”
“I need you and Mr. Winters to come in for a statement. This room is too crowded and…” He glanced toward the senator. “We can go in my car.”
“Our car is just down the block. Okay if we meet you there?” Jake answered for them.
The detective hesitated. Did he think they’d not show up? “Okay. Let’s go out the back door. Just a moment.” He turned to another man about his age in a suit. “You got it?” The man nodded.
The air chilled when she stepped into the alley. The detective led the way to the street. She hadn’t realized sweat dampened her forehead until wind turned icy on her face. Beside her, Jake huddled deeper into his jacket. The cold danced over her, but couldn’t penetrate beyond the surface of her skin. She was hard, solid, her core numb.
At the edge of the building, Ranclin stopped and looked around the corner. “Where’s your car?”
“The purple Dodge over there.” Jake pointed.
“Okay. You’re clear. The road is roped off behind you. Meet you at my office.” He loped off toward the barricaded street and to the front of the building.
Penny moved first, silently crossing the sidewalk and stepping over the gutter filled with mushy snow. He followed. Although her silence worried him, he didn’t want to talk. As long as she moved and answered when spoken to, she must be reasonably okay.
A corner of his heart ached for her, but a corner of his mind disengaged. He needed to process what just happened. He needed to take a check on himself. He gulped cold air, appreciated the earth beneath his feet.
They were alive.
At the car, she stopped beside the driver door and withdrew the keys from her bag.
“Let me drive.” He held out his hand. Not sure if her silence indicated the state of her mind, he was more sure of his wits than hers.
She didn’t argue or comment, but handed the keys over and walked around the car.
When he buckled his seat belt, the bulge in his pocket reminded him about the P238. He withdrew the compact weapon, leaned across her, and opened the glove box.
After he’d deposited the gun, she closed the compartment. Without even a glance at him, she rested an elbow on the door, knuckled her fingers against her lips, and stared out into the now cloud-filtered daylight.
It was over. Yet, additional weight pushed him down into the seat as he drove the few miles to the law complex. There would be statements. Would he be required to appear in court or whatever proceedings would follow? Mandy would be laid to rest. Her house and affairs—his parents would need him to take charge. He’d pulled a gun on another human being—and would’ve used it. Elams hadn’t shot them. The senator was dead.
His mind flitted from one thought to another and his emotions rose, plunged, and waffled. And what about Penny? They were linked forever by these events. What did that mean to him? To her?
To them?
He could see only a sliver of her face as she stared out the side window. Even if her full face was visible, he wouldn’t see her. She was part of all that had happened, and he couldn’t get his mind to separate her from the mess. There was too much to consider, to figure out. As much as he wanted to cling to someone, to feel something close to comfort, he couldn’t. There was just too much…
A space by the front door for visitors was empty, and he parked. Penny opened her door without comment and waited while he locked the car and joined her on the sidewalk.
She tilted her head upward. “Are you okay, Jake?” As if she’d just now heard his question to her back at the scene of the crime, she responded in kind.
“We’ll both make it through this, Penny.” When all was said and done, he had no idea of how okay they would be.
She nodded, turned, and led the way to Ranclin’s office. The detective hadn’t arrived yet, but they were let in to wait. He sat in a chair facing the desk, but Penny paced by the windows looking out onto the hub of the main part of the offices.
“I can’t believe what just happened.” Her voice was low and made harder to hear with her back to him.
He didn’t really want to talk about the shooting. But that’s why they were here. Ranclin would want every bloody detail.
“I don’t know what I feel, Jake.”
He didn’t want to feel. He wanted to escape. A drink or something stronger? His legs twitched. No. He just wanted it all not to have happened.
“I’m sorry.” She half-turned, but kept her eyes lowered. “I do know I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you.”
For once in his life, he wasn’t the cause of his pain. The yearned for escape couldn’t be blamed on his own actions. Yeah. He could place the blame on someone else like he always had. If he lapsed, and ran, it wasn’t his fault—his reasoning rang hollow.
Bugger that, Winters. Demons are fought no matter the cause. What about Penny’s demons?
“Penny—”
“He’s here.”
Ranclin opened the door and shut it, strode to his desk, and sat. “Have a seat, Penny.” He waited until she’d taken the chair next to Jake. “You two have some explaining to do.”
Wariness came over Jake. They’d done nothing wrong, but he couldn’t be sure how much Penny would admit as to what intentions she’d had in going to see the senator or the gun they’d carried into the meeting. Hell, he’d not been entirely sure of her intentions in going to see the senator. She’d not gone for the gun until they’d been threatened. How much would she reveal?
She glanced at Jake, sadness glistened in her dark eyes.
He wanted to touch her face, smooth away her sorrow, and the fact he had those feelings lightened his heart.
Then her jaw set, and she regarded the detective. “I wanted to tell Senator Westingly that I was going to bring him down. We went to the newspaper earlier. I handed over all my notes.”
Ranclin frowned and sat back in his chair. “You handed over evidence, Ms. Sparks?”
“It wasn’t evidence yet. And I have the originals. I gave him a copy.” Her chin tipped upward in a defiant gesture. “No one believed me anyway. One way or another, I wanted Westingly to be ruined. I just wanted to talk to him. And I wanted to see him pee his pants.”
“Was Agent Elams there when you arrived?”
“No. He said he followed us.”
“Why did he shoot the senator?”
Penny grew quiet. Ranclin looked at him, and Jake merely shrugged.
“You’ll have to ask Agent Elams,” Penny finally said.
Ranclin sighed and pulled a pad from a drawer. “We’ll take your statements, but be prepared to do the same thing for the FBI.” The door opened behind them. “Mr. Winters, Detective Bush will take your statement. Please follow him.”
Penny’s brows rose slightly as they stared into each other’s eyes. At that moment, he decided not to mention the gun she’d intended on taking to the meeting…that he’d carried into the meeting. He forced a weak smile and turned to follow the detective. If she had any of the female intuition her sex supposedly possessed, he hoped she’d read his intentions.