Head Over Heels (25 page)

Then the awful smile was back. “Killing her probably wasn't what she had in mind,” he said in an amused voice. “But that's what little girls get when they push their luck. I have a position to maintain in this town. There was certainly no way I was about to allow some Baker Street trollop to ruin me.”

Low social status made one a perfectly acceptable candidate for
murder
? Veronica hit her flash point. She gave Neil a hard shove that caught him off guard and sent him staggering back. Once again she tore open the door, then kicked back at the man reaching for her, and plunged for freedom.

She made it through the doorway before her hair was gripped from behind, jerking her to a halt. The gleamingly sharp-edged blade of a Swiss army knife twitched into view and waved menacingly back and forth before her eyes.

“Don't be fooled by its length,” Neil murmured in her ear. “Because it will do the job quite handily if you give me any more grief.” The blade disappeared, but a second later she felt its tip scratch against the nape of her neck as Neil pulled the law office door closed behind them. “Make one peep and I'll show you exactly how much damage a blade this size can do.”

“Figures you'd be one of those guys who insist it's not the size that counts, but what you can do with it,” she muttered as he directed her to her car. “It's always the ones who don't
have
the size.”

The tip of the blade pressed a little harder against her nape. “You Davis girls just don't know when to zip your pretty little lips, do you? Keep it up, and I'll be forced to zip them for you. Permanently.”

Like you don't plan to do that anyway.
Veronica had no illusions on that score; she knew too much now.

But damned if she'd go without a fight.

He stopped at the passenger side of her car. “Un-lock it and climb in slowly,” he ordered.

Not having any choice, she fumbled her keys out of her purse and did as she was told. She contemplated diving for the driver's door, figuring that while her lower body might be in danger of getting slashed, the small blade wouldn't do anywhere near the damage it was capable of inflicting on her vulnerable neck.

But Peavy gripped her arm and climbed in right alongside her, not giving her even an inch to maneuver. He closed the door behind him, and gave her that damn smile again.

“Buckle up,” he advised. “We wouldn't want you getting hurt.”

“I
'
M
PROBABLY MAKING A BIG DEAL OUT OF NOTHING
,” Coop said as he gunned the car up Commercial Street toward the city center.

“But you don't think so, do you?” asked Eddie at his side.

“No.” He glanced over at his brother. “Ronnie never hesitates to tell me I'm full of shit when she thinks I am. It ties my gut up in knots just to think what she might say if she tumbles to the truth about Peavy.”

“The chances of that happening are pretty slim, don't you think?”

“All but nonexistent.” But his nerves kept sparking a warning to get there
now
, all the same.

Suddenly he was jolted out of his preoccupation. “Jesus!” he said. “
You
shouldn't be here. It's broad-
freakin'-daylight—if anyone sees you, they'll haul your ass off to jail so fast we won't see you for dust. And that's only if the cops don't shoot first and ask questions second.”

“I don't think we have to worry too much about the cops,” Eddie said wryly. “Fossil's police department is hardly what anyone would classify as SWAT central. But if we do get stopped, we'll tell them the truth: that I was on my way to the station to turn myself in.”

Coop stared at him for a second. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I shouldn't have run in the first place—it was a chickenshit, knee-jerk reaction. And despite all those nights I spent rabidly planning different ways for taking Lizzy on the lam, I know it's out of the question. So it's time I faced the music. Once we've made sure Veronica is okay, we'll go to the station and see if we can't straighten out this mess.”

“You really aren't the kid whose image I've been packing around in my mind all these years, are you?” Coop asked slowly. It shouldn't have come as any big revelation, since on an intellectual level he'd realized for a long time now that his half-brother had grown up.

Emotionally, though, and despite his brother's earlier willingness to take responsibility for his actions, a revelation was exactly what it felt like.

“I'm sure it comes as a shock, considering my recent behavior,” Eddie replied wryly. “But the truth is, I quit being a kid the day mine was born.”

Coop was suffused with a sudden sense of all the years that had been lost. “I haven't been much of a brother to you,” he said slowly. “I'm sorry.”

“What?” Eddie turned to stare at him. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“I haven't been there for you—haven't been around nearly enough. Not when I should have been.”

“Hey.” Eddie shrugged. “We've covered this ground. Besides, we've seen each other.”

“Yeah, when you made the effort during your business trips to my side of the country.” He thought about it a moment. “It's kind of ironic, really. Here I've been locked into thinking of you as this perpetual kid…when the truth is I'm the one who needs to grow up and get on with it. I've spent too damn many years letting Mom's opinion of me dictate my actions, and it's kept me from coming back to see you—if that meant having to return to this part of the world. Never mind the way my feelings for her years after her death, for crissake, have kept me from…” Ruthlessly, he chopped off that conversational tack. Thinking of the way he'd screwed up with Veronica as well wasn't something he could afford to contemplate right now. Not and hang on to the last vestige of focus he had left.

So he concentrated on the things he could control. “I'll tell you something that being in Fossil has taught me, though. It's my loss that I missed out on so much of your life.” Pulling up to a red light, he looked over and met Eddie's gaze. “But I give you my word that those days are over. From now on, I plan to be around a lot more for you and Lizzy.” Then he grinned. “Whom, incidentally, I've enjoyed the hell outta getting to know. She is one sugarcoated little heartbreaker.”

Eddie's face creased in a tender smile. “Yeah, she's a
peach, isn't she? And I'll tell
you
something, James. Maybe my taking a powder wasn't a totally bad thing, if it got you out here where you could get to know my baby. Not to mention that if you hadn't come to Fossil, no one ever would've tumbled to Neil being the one responsible for Crystal's death. So let's go collect Veronica. Then we can concentrate on—”

“Holy shit!” Coop craned around to stare as a familiar blue Volvo passed him, going in the opposite direction. “Hey! That was her!”

“Who?” Eddie twisted around to look also.

“Ronnie.” An icy fist of apprehension clenched his gut as he looked for a place to hang a U. “She's not alone,” he said grimly. “I couldn't see exactly who was with her through those tinted windows, but I can tell you this much. There's a man in her car.”

 

Never let them transport you
. The words kept repeating in Veronica's head until she felt ready to scream. What on earth had she been thinking?
Aren't you the woman who said, “Well, duh,” when the experts on that Oprah episode about learning how to defend yourself said never let your assailant transport you?

No one had mentioned, though, how good sense and rational thought flew out the window when one was terrified. Too late, she realized she should have taken her chances back there in the parking lot. How likely was it that Peavy would've killed her right outside his own law offices?

Not very, genius
. Stupid appeared to be the word all right. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Did you say something?” Peavy's voice was patently amused.

Eat shit and die, you rat-faced bugger
. Conscious of the knife point that rested against the side of her neck, she pressed her lips together and kept the suggestion to herself.

“Not to me, apparently.” Peavy shrugged. “Ah, well. Intelligent conversation would be a bonus, but I don't actually require it. Turn left at the next light.”

That would put them on Orchard Road, which for one short block housed Fossil's answer to Rodeo Drive: a row of upscale, expensive shops that catered to the Bluff crowd. Veronica had the feeling Peavy wasn't going to suggest they go shopping.

More likely he'd direct her beyond town to either the Hawthorn or Bagley orchards, both of which were on this road.
The very-isolated-this-time-of-year Hawthorn or Bagley orchards
, she thought, and shivered. She'd better make her move fast if she planned on saving her ass anytime soon.

It would help, though, if she had some inkling of what that move might be.

Her senses felt heightened as she made the turn, and she was extraordinarily aware of the elegant gold lettering that spelled out
TOUCH OF CLASS
(
FINE ACCESSORIES FOR THE DISCERNING HOMEOWNER
) on one of the storefronts, and of the bare-branched birches reflected off the black-tinted picture window of the Natural Touch Day Spa next door. She recognized Darlene Starkey, who was loaded down with packages bearing distinctive logos from specialized shops, her pageboy hairdo looking freshly done as she strode briskly to
ward her prized Mercedes-Benz parked in front of Tout Suite's Fine Apparel.

And suddenly Ronnie's brain started to function once again.

Oh man, oh man. The only way Peavy had any chance of pulling this off was if his anonymity remained intact. He'd appeared so confident lounging in the seat next to her that the fear hazing her ability to reason had equated it with invulnerability. But her car had tinted windows—otherwise, he'd undoubtedly be slouched down to avoid detection.
Well, it's time to burst your balloon, you murderous bastard.

Adrenaline suddenly roaring in her veins, she changed lanes. She had the satisfaction of seeing Peavy jerk upright from his indolent pose as his side of the car drew nearer and nearer to the row of cars parked along the curb. With a horrendous screech of metal on metal, she sideswiped Darlene Starkey's much-loved pearl-gray Mercedes-Benz, jammed on the brakes, and threw the gearshift into park. In the next instant she was out of the car, leaving Neil Peavy trapped in the passenger seat.

“Hey, Darlene,” she called to the horrified woman who'd stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk with her packages in a heap at her feet as she gaped at the wreckage. “Have I got a scoop for you!”

 

“Yes!” The awful headache-producing tension loosened its grip on the muscles in Coop's neck the moment he drove around the corner and saw Veronica standing safely on the sidewalk, contemplating her car
squeezed up against a badly creased Benz. When he saw who stood next to her, he put two and two together and laughed out loud in relief. “That's my
girl
.”

“She is?” Eddie gave him a startled look. “Get out! You and Veronica?”

Coop merely gave him a huge grin. He drove up the avenue, intending to pull alongside Veronica's car to block the driver's door. Before he could do so, however, Peavy suddenly slid from her car on that side and hit the street running.

Eddie swore. “The son of a bitch is getting away!”

Coop rocked to a halt at the curb. “Don't go after him,” he commanded as they tumbled out of the car. He headed straight for Veronica but said over his shoulder, “Cops see you running down the street with bloodlust in your eyes, and they really will shoot first and ask questions later.” Then he shrugged. “Besides, where's he gonna go? The guy's miles from home, and between Ronnie and us, we should have enough to convince the police to keep an eye on his bank account so he can't lay hands on any ready cash.” But that could come later.

He strode up to Veronica and hauled her into his arms, satisfied when she immediately wrapped her own around his neck and clung. Feeling the tremors that pulsed through her body, he tucked his chin to get a good look at her, but she was firmly burrowed into his chest. “Are you all right?”

“Is
she
all right?” Darlene Starkey, puffed up like an outraged cat, threw down the cigarette she'd been dragging on furiously and glared at them. “She's a goddamn crazy woman, is what she is! Did you see what she did to my car?” Then she caught sight of Eddie and gave such a high-pitched shriek that Cooper
half expected dogs to start barking. “Ohmigawd! It's her sister's killer! Call the police!” She started fumbling her own cell phone from her purse.

“Yes, do call the police,” Veronica said firmly. Coop felt her turn her cheek against his chest to look at the other woman. “But tell them to arrest Neil Peavy. He's the one who killed Crystal, and he planned to kill me, too. He admitted as much.”

Avid interest replaced Darlene's fury.

Coop wrapped his hands around Veronica's shoulders and stepped back to hold her at arm's length, where he could get a good look at her. He blew out a breath when he saw for himself that she truly was all right. “It scared the hell out of me when I saw you with that murderin' son of a bitch,” he told her. “Eddie and I had just figured out he was responsible for Crystal's death when I remembered you had an appointment with him. Then, when I saw he was in the damn
car
with you, my heart about stopped.” Taking a deep breath, he loosened the stranglehold he'd had on his pride these past several days and admitted, “I've been an idiot, Ronnie. I should never have withheld what I do for a living from you.”

“I don't
care
what you do,” she replied. “I can't believe I thought it was so important in the first place.”

“Yeah, nothing like a little brush with death to drive home what's really—” He suddenly became aware of blood trickling down the side of her neck, and it chopped his thought right in two. Reaching out, he wiped the rivulet off her skin with a fingertip, and red-hot anger rose in a scalding tide as another trickle immediately took its place. He swore viciously. “What did he do to you?”

She reached up and touched the spot herself, then pulled back her bloody fingertip to inspect it. “He was holding a pocketknife to my neck,” she said slowly. “It must have nicked me when I hit Darlene's car. That's funny, I didn't feel a thing.”

“I'll stomp that son of a bitch into paste!”

“No, Coop, wait—”

Setting her loose, he pivoted on his heel and ran flat out in the direction he'd seen Peavy go. Rage was a red mist obscuring all else—a total departure from his normal cool-headedness. He was marginally aware that Eddie was hot on his heels, but he couldn't get past the fury pumping through his veins long enough to caution his brother to stay put.

He had more than a dozen years of reconnaissance missions under his belt, and he knew acting the hothead was not the way to run one's quarry to ground. But hard as he tried he couldn't seem to access his customary clear-headed logic.

“I saw him turn at the next corner,” Eddie said, catching up, and when they reached the corner themselves the two brothers skidded around it with barely a reduction in speed. Coop glanced down the alley in the middle of the block as he ran past. But he was halfway to the next corner before it registered that he'd seen something under the far side of the alley's dumpster that hadn't belonged. He skidded to a halt.

Eddie slid to one alongside him. “What?” he panted.

His rage draining away as suddenly as it had come upon him, Coop signaled his half-brother to be quiet. “Italian loafers,” he explained softly, in cool command once again as he eased back toward the mouth of the
alley. “I saw them under the dumpster.” He lowered his head to speak directly into Eddie's ear. “You've got the most at stake here, so how do you want to go in? Fast and silent, by the book, or do we scare the bejesus out of the guy?”

Eddie tipped his head back and gave Coop a crooked smile. “Oh, scare the hell out of him, definitely.”