Come Die with Me, page 22
part #1 of A Roxy Horne Novel Series
“Until they catch her. And they will catch her. Then what? She’ll start talking.”
Mandy moved toward her daughter. “They’ll catch her and think she did it. I put the weapon at her work. Everything points to her. We don’t have to do this.”
“Shut up, Mom. Get back to work.” Gretchen pointed the gun at the wall. “Get that done, so we can go.”
“I’m the prime suspect,” Roxy pointed out. “They’re coming after me. If you kill me, it’ll look suspicious. Detective Geary doesn’t believe in coincidence.” Thank God for that. He might actually catch these two. Unless she could find a weapon.
The fireplace poker glinted in the flickering light from the television. She needed to grab that before Gretchen pulled the trigger.
Gretchen turned the gun on Roxy. “I’m sorry, but we need this to end. With the money Donnie owed to the gangs, and the fact that you killed him before they could get it back, there’s no coincidence.”
“Donnie owed money to gangs?” Keep them talking. Roxy inched to the right, hoping it looked like her leg hurt.
“He owed money to everyone. Having him owe money to a few gangbangers isn’t a stretch. Nor is it a stretch that the woman he screwed over when he complained to her bosses killed him.”
Roxy was being set up. One of the gangs were being set up. Given Geary’s hatred of Roxy, it wouldn’t be hard for him to believe. MacAuley might go along, because he’d probably believe it, too. The only one who might not believe was Rafe. But hopefully he was smart enough not to say anything. She didn’t want him getting in the middle of this.
None of that answered why they’d killed Donnie—or better yet, why Gretchen killed Donnie. Mandy didn’t seem to have a deadly bone in her body.
Roxy shifted another inch. “But why did you kill him? If it was an accident, the police would understand.” It had to be an accident. Gretchen was a sweet mother with two little kids. Suburban moms didn’t kill. They brought snacks for Little League.
Gretchen made a noise that had Roxy rethinking the “sweet mother” thing. “He wanted money. The creep actually tried to blackmail me. He said he’d tell my father that he wasn’t really my father. That sleazeball wasn’t my father. No matter what the DNA test said.”
“You’re Presley.” Roxy eyed the fireplace poker. She inched over a little more. She’d need to dive two feet. Two feet didn’t seem all that far, unless there was a gun pointed at you, a gun with bullets that could travel a hell of a lot faster than that.
“My mom and dad legally changed my name to Gretchen when I was a baby. Apparently Donnie always wanted a daughter named Presley. My mom was trying to get him back—not the best idea, given she was married to another man at that point. But she was young and dumb. We’ve all been there. Anyway, it didn’t work. Donnie didn’t care and Steve became my father.”
Gretchen smirked. “Donnie actually invited me to the hotel. I lied when I said he wasn’t there. He was. When he said he’d tell my father, I lost it. He had already taken everything from my dad. He wasn’t taking me too. He wouldn’t take my mother’s mistake and rub it in his face.”
“When I was pregnant,” Mandy said, “I thought Donnie and I would run off with you after you were born, but he changed his mind. I never should have trusted him.” Mandy finished tagging the wall. “But what you did to Donnie was an accident. We can go to the police.”
“The police won’t see it that way.” Gretchen looked around. “Did you forget anything? I don’t want you leaving anything behind this time.”
The jacket. Roxy turned to Mandy. “That was your jacket. You were there.”
Mandy shook her head. “I was there earlier when Adelaide dropped off the keys. I ran up to the room and tried to talk him out of what he was doing. I tried to get him to do the right thing.”
Except he didn’t. Given everything Roxy had learned about Donnie, she wasn’t all that surprised.
“There’s no other way.” Gretchen cocked the gun. “Mom, go outside. I’ll finish up.”
“But—”
“Go!”
This couldn’t be how things ended. Roxy was being taken out in a fake gang fight. She was too young. There were things she had to do. There were things she had to see.
Tears slid down her cheeks. This was it. She’d never get to feel Rafe’s touch again. Never hug her parents. She’d never get dragged to a horrible club by Sarina. Or get chased by servees again.
Chapter 34
It’s not that I'm afraid to die, I just don’t want to be there when it happens. ~ Woody Allen
This couldn’t be it. This wasn’t how she was going out. She needed to postpone.
Mandy didn’t want to do this. Roxy could see it in her eyes. She was against the whole thing. Roxy just needed to give Mandy time to Mom-up and nip this in the bud. Get Gretchen talking.
“How did you find me?”
Gretchen sighed. “Does it matter? I followed you and your boyfriend when you left the house.”
“You can’t shoot me like this.”
Gretchen scowled, but the gun stayed leveled at Roxy. “Why not?”
That was a good question. There had to be a good answer. Maybe. “Because this is a drive-by, right? That’s why you shot through the windows. You have to shoot me from farther away and from outside, or the crime scene won’t look right.”
Roxy was reaching. Hell, they tagged inside the house, so nothing of what she said was true. Nothing made sense. But maybe, just maybe, she could get them to hold off until she could figure something out.
“You’re right.” Gretchen sighed again and waggled the cocked gun.
Mandy’s eyes widened. She hadn’t left. She was still here. “Gretchen, darling, we can just leave. We’ll go away.”
“No, Mom, we can’t.” Gretchen glared at her. “Can you please go outside and get the car ready?”
Mandy shook her head. “We need to rethink this.”
Gretchen yelled, “There’s nothing to rethink,” and the hand with the gun waved out to the side. Away from Roxy.
This was it. This was her chance. Roxy dove to the floor and grabbed the poker. She slammed it into Gretchen’s knees as a shot went off. Roxy didn’t have time to figure out what it hit. She yanked the poker back, and somehow the metal hook caught on Gretchen’s arm.
That same arm that held the gun currently aimed at Roxy. Shit. Another yank freed the poker, and Roxy scrambled to her knees. She used every ounce of strength to bring the poker down on Gretchen’s arm. The gun flew off who knew where, and Gretchen fell to the floor with a scream.
The gun. It was right there.
Roxy dove for it, but so did Gretchen. She grabbed Roxy’s ankle. “Mom, give me the gun,” Gretchen groaned.
It was like she had superhuman strength. The more Roxy kicked, the tighter Gretchen’s grip. Roxy needed leverage. She kicked out with her other foot, landing a heel to Gretchen’s face. Her grip loosened. The gun sat next to the front door—feet from Mandy.
“You girls stop it!” Mandy stared at Gretchen and Roxy with terror written on her face. She yelled like they were toddlers fighting over a toy.
Roxy wrenched her leg away and staggered to her feet. She stumbled, her fingers so close, she could almost feel the rubber grip. But before she got there, Mandy picked up the gun.
Oh. Hell. No.
The bear. They’d made their peace. Now she needed his help. Roxy pivoted like a drunken pole dancer and got behind the bear.Shoved as hard as she could. Nothing. Heavy sucker. She wedged her butt between the wall and the bear. Braced her legs and pushed. The bear rocked. Again. It didn’t take more than a few seconds, yet it felt like a lifetime before the bear tipped away. Roxy heard a loud thump and a yell as the bear knocked Mandy to the floor, pinning her in place.
“Help me.” She raised a hand to Roxy.
Like hell.
Roxy’s breath stuttered in her chest as she leaned down and grabbed the gun. That took way too much work because now she was dizzy. She turned to the living room and aimed.
No Gretchen.
Roxy pointed the gun like she’d seen in the cop shows and crept around the wall into the dining room. In the kitchen, red pooled along the floor in staggered puddles. She jumped around the island.
Nothing.
Dammit. Roxy snuck to the other kitchen doorway. Little patches of blood smeared the floor, but that could have been from Roxy’s bloody feet when the shooting first started.
She kept the gun up as she crept down the hall where the bear lay on the floor, Mandy squirming underneath.
“Bitch,” Gretchen yelled.
Metal slid against Roxy’s throat. She dropped the gun as her hands flew to her neck. Gretchen pulled Roxy closer, yanking the poker harder against Roxy’s throat. Gretchen’s body pressed into her.
Lungs burning. Head spinning. Roxy flailed her arms, trying to reach behind her. She slammed a fist into Gretchen’s face. The poker dropped to the floor with a clang. Roxy fell to her knees, the air sputtering into her lungs in large gulps. She turned her head.
Gretchen, complete with crazed eyes and bloody nose, rushed toward her.
Not today, crazy. Not. Today. Roxy grabbed the poker as she stood up, and swung it like a tennis racket. The metal crunched into Gretchen’s face and she fell backward onto the floor.
Gretchen didn’t move.
Shit. Roxy didn’t mean to kill her.
Gretchen’s chest rose and fell. Not dead. Thank goodness. Roxy might not like the bitch much, but she didn’t want her kids to be half-orphans. No one deserved that. Especially now that Roxy could breathe.
The front door swung open and another gun appeared. For the love of…
“Police.”
Roxy lifted her hands above her head. “I’m not armed.” She pointed toward the gun. “Get that thing out of here.”
MacAuley came through the front door. “Are you okay?”
She might have nodded, but she wasn’t sure. Her head spun, and she dropped her hands just in time to keep the floor from hitting her face. Her body ached. Who knew fighting crazies would take so much out of a person?
MacAuley stepped over Mandy and picked up the gun. “Amato, get over here.”
Roxy eased her sagging bones to the floor. MacAuley’s eyes glinted with worry even though the guy had to see this stuff all the time.
“No need for concern. You don’t still think I’m the bad guy, do you? ’Cause I’m not the guy.” She tried to lift her hand to point, but her arm was so tired. So, so tired. Fighting with these women had taken it out of her. “They’re the guy.”
“Does it hurt?” Rafe walked toward her looking way paler than he should.
She giggled, a breathy laugh that made her side burn. “You should see the other guy.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Why do you keep asking that?”
Rafe and MacAuley exchanged glances.
“EMT.” A woman carrying a large bag stood at the door. Good. She could make sure Roxy hadn’t accidentally killed anyone. Although it wasn’t all her fault. The bear did his part.
“What about the bear?” Rafe looked at her like she had two heads. “There’s a bullet hole over here.”
A bullet hole? Who was shot? The bear? “I didn’t shoot the bear. I found him like that. Don’t try to pin it on me.”
She wasn’t the guy.
“Lie down.” Rafe helped her lie flat on the floor. Her side burned. She felt around for why. Wetness. She pulled her hand back. Blood. Her blood. Her vision went fuzzy at the edges.
“Roxy, stay with me, sweetheart.” Rafe’s voice was strained and so far away. He was disappearing.
Or maybe she was.
The darkness moved from the edges and closed in on her.
Chapter 35
No, RN does not stand for “Refreshments and Narcotics”. ~ Unknown
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Someone had better turn off that awful beeping, or she was going to throw whatever it was into the fiery pits of hell.
Roxy’s eyes slid open to a white ceiling. Slowly, her body was coming online. Her fingers twitched. Her toes wiggled. Her head throbbed.
Did she mention that beep? Where the hell was she? She turned her head. A white wall. In front of that, a machine with a little screen showing a red squiggly line that bounced up and down to the beat of the beep. She lifted her hand. A white plastic clip was attached to her middle finger.
“Oh, thank God.” Roxy couldn’t see her, but she knew her mother’s voice. “I was so worried.”
Her mother didn’t just seem worried, her eyes said she hadn’t slept in a while.
“Don’t say that,” her father’s disembodied voice scolded. “We’re supposed to keep her spirits up.”
“Paul, keep your comments to yourself.”
“Don’t fight in front of the children.” Roxy’s voice was scratchy.
Her father leaned over the other side of the bed. He looked like he hadn’t seen a bed in months.
“How long have I been here?” Roxy croaked.
“A couple days.” Her mom tried to smile, but it didn’t exactly raise Roxy’s spirits. “Do you remember what happened?”
Roxy propped her arms on the bed and tried to push herself up. Her chest was in a vise. She couldn’t move. The pain she felt just contemplating moving was enough for her to be thankful she couldn’t move any farther.
“Don’t get up.” Danielle walked in, complete with her doctor’s coat.
Thank goodness. The normal parent.
“Welcome back. It’s nice to see your eyes open.” Danielle hit something on the bed and the back rest slowly angled Roxy’s body upward.
Her side pulled and pulsed. “That’s enough.” It was barely enough to see everyone in the room, but her side didn’t care.
“Sorry.” Danielle stepped away from the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been shot.” Roxy laughed, a small giggle, before the pain made her stop breathing. The pain was bad when she moved. So she just wouldn’t move anymore. Ever.
Her mother blubbered off to the side, large tears streaming down her face. “My baby. Shot.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay.” Roxy had no idea if she was okay, but she figured her mom needed a little encouragement. And Roxy was talking, which sounded like an improvement over the last couple days.
“It’s not okay. That woman tried to kill you.”
“The good news is she didn’t.” Roxy thought that was funny, but no one laughed. Maybe she’d broken her sarcasm in the scuffle with Gretchen.
Danielle checked the beeping machine and typed in the computer. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine?” She was pretty sure she was fine, but it really depended on the definition. She was alive, so that was something.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“Well, my side hurts, and it feels like there’s a vise around my hips.”
“Let me fix that.” Danielle readjusted the blanket under her, jostling her hip and everything attached to it.
Pain. Light-blinding pain zipped past her eyes. She groaned. Which was impressive since she wanted to scream obscenities.
“Sorry. I’ll have the nurse give you some pain meds.” Danielle flipped the blanket up onto Roxy’s stomach and loosened tape on her side. Which Roxy couldn’t see, but the tickle of the adhesive coming off her skin and the sound told her what was happening. Danielle hummed. “You’re healing well.”
“What happened?” Exactly. She remembered bits and pieces. The whole getting shot part was a bit fuzzy.
Danielle covered the wound on Roxy’s hip and putlled the blanket down, without wedging it underneath her. “You were shot in the hip. The bullet nearly grazed your spleen, but it managed not to hit any vital organs. We also stitched a laceration on the posterior thigh and there was some swelling on your neck.”
There was more, but the Cliff Notes version was she’d be fine. Which, really, when you woke up and found out you’d been shot and had other various injuries, “you’ll be fine” was the headline. Burying it just meant losing the audience.
“I need to ask a few basic questions,” Danielle said, and launched right into them.
Roxy was pretty sure she got them all right. Her age. The current year. She was rocking this test.
“Do you know who this is?” Danielle pointed at Roxy’s mom.
Roxy went to say the words, but—nothing. All of a sudden, he was there. The only thing she was rocking was googly eyes because Rafe leaned against the door jamb of her hospital room. His arms were crossed, making the muscles bulge. He looked awful. He looked worried. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
Which was ironic since Roxy, apparently, had literally slept for days, and she probably resembled a coked-up Medusa clone.
Rafe walked in and stood off to the side. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Those brown eyes. The way they caressed her body as he took her in wasn’t an interruption. Well, it was, but who cared. There were worse ways to fail the doctor’s mental stability test.
Danielle moved to block Roxy’s view of Rafe and cleared her throat. “Can we get back to it?”
“Sure.” Roxy could feel the red crawling up her neck—from her eyes creeping over Rafe’s body.
A glimmer of a smile ghosted along his lips.
It was bad if he couldn’t find joy in her embarrassing herself.
“Who is this?” Danielle pointed to her dad.
“My dad.”
Danielle gestured to her mom. “And this?”
“Your wife.”
“And this gentleman behind me?”
“Rafe.” Her eyes met his and no matter how hard she tried not to get sucked back in, she did.
He was here. In the hospital. Their relationship hadn’t been defined, but there was no way it was close to hospital-visit territory. Maybe a nice fruit basket, but actually standing there like he owned the place? No. That wasn’t the stance of someone who’d showed up five minutes ago to drop off a card.
