She's Gotta Be Mine (42 page)

“It wasn’t Warren’s, and it wasn’t Nick’s.
Kent
left behind a footprint.”

“He said he was careful.”

“He’s not God, you know. He made a mistake.”

Cookie chewed off the last smudge of lipstick. “But even if he did, no one will know it’s his.”

“When Warren recants his confession,
Brax
will get a search warrant for every house in town, and he’ll find those shoes.” Outlandish, but Cookie probably wasn’t a
Law and Order
addict.

“
If
Warren takes it back,” Cookie whispered.

“
When
,” Bobbie snapped. “When he hears I’m dead, he
will
start telling the truth. He’ll
know
you had something to do with it.”

Cookie just stared, eyes wide, mouth open a fraction. She was primed.

“I’ve got a better plan,” Bobbie said, weaving a seductive thread through her voice.

“What?”

Bobbie had never needed her wits and her mouth more. “I’ll say you rescued me. You tell
Brax
you thought Kent might have killed
Jimbo
because he’d always hated him. Tonight, you followed him and knocked him over the head. I’ll back you up.”

Cookie bit her lip. She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugged herself. She chewed a fingernail. Then she said, “But what about Warren?”

“He won’t say anything about the two of you if I tell him not to.”

“Do you think
Brax
will buy it?”

Bobbie smiled. “Of course. We just have to stick together.”

Cookie tugged on her quivering lip, then, in a little girl voice, asked, “Should I hide behind the door when he comes in?”

Gotcha.

* * * * *

The window down, Nick idled at the end of the long driveway leading to
Jimbo’s
lodge. The Charger’s engine rumbled in the night, the sound carrying for miles in all that deadly quiet. He didn’t expect his arrival to be clandestine.

What he had in mind couldn’t be called a
plan
. He’d let himself be taken and hope like hell he could stall Cookie and her chump until
Brax
arrived with firepower.
Brax
was his secret weapon. Cookie, and whoever was helping the bitch, wouldn’t even consider that he’d ask for
Brax’s
aid. The ongoing feud between them was too renowned.

At least he prayed it was.

But Christ, he was taking a big risk with Bobbie’s life. If he wasn’t already too late.

“Don’t think like that,” he whispered to the stars. “She’s all right.”

Foot off the brake, he let the Charger roll onto the gravel drive. Cookie wouldn’t have done this on her own. That’s why she’d needed him, and when he wouldn’t play ball, why she’d then turned to Warren Spivey. Cookie wasn’t a big thinker. Who the hell was helping her?

Lights shone through the trees. He wouldn’t make it too easy by walking right up to the front door. That might cause suspicion that he had an ace up his sleeve. Pulling the Charger to the side of the lane, he shut off the engine and climbed out, the door
snicking
closed behind him.

Crickets chirped. A breeze rustled the leaves. An owl hooted over the water. No other sounds. But someone lay in wait for him. The hairs on his arms rose.

He glanced down at the lighted dial of his watch. He had ten minutes on
Brax
.
 
The sheriff better put the pedal to the metal.

All right, sacrificial lamb time.

He stepped into the woods beside the drive.

Chapter Nineteen

Nick crouched low, pushing a branch aside to gain full view of the silent lodge. Warning came in the form of a snapped twig behind him, then cold metal nudged his temple.

“Thought you could sneak up on me, buddy?” Kent taunted.

For one blind moment, Nick’s muscles refused to respond as he absorbed the sucker punch. Kent and Cookie?

“Glad you could make it, Nick.”

He might have been able to get the jump on Kent, but he also might get a bullet in his brain. Where would that leave Bobbie? He reined himself in. “So, you’re the one helping Cookie.”

“Yeah.” Kent paused, made a sound like he was sucking on a sore tooth. “Sorry about this.”

Kent, the ally he’d thought he still had in Cottonmouth... Nick closed his eyes briefly. He’d think about that later, when Bobbie was safe. “Cookie isn’t worth it, you know.”

Kent’s shrug traveled through the barrel of the gun he hadn’t removed from Nick’s temple. “Probably not. But the money is.”

Nick sought a way to get to him. “I thought you were—”

“Your friend?” Air puffed harshly through Kent’s nostrils. “That’s why I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

Nothing was painless in this whole damn mess. The thread of excitement lacing Kent’s voice said he actually relished making sure it wasn’t.

Nick moved back on his haunches, easing the pressure on his knees. “I was going to say I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Insults aren’t going to make me mad enough to lose control so you can jump me. This isn’t one of your movies, Nick.”

He couldn’t even summon rage over the betrayal, not now. Only one thing remained that he cared about. “Let Bobbie go, Kent. She isn’t part of this.”

“Afraid I can’t do that, buddy.”

”I’m not your fucking buddy.”

Kent jabbed the muzzle of the gun hard against his temple. “That’s better. For a minute there I thought you didn’t care.”

“About you? I don’t. Let her go.”

Kent chuckled. “Got a soft spot for her, huh? Thought so. Too bad. Too late.”

Nick’s fists bunched. He wanted nothing more than to smash Kent’s face, beat him to a bloody pulp. The fury was for Bobbie, for involving her in his mess. He tilted his head against the gun, peered at Kent from the corner of his eye. “She’s not as good as Cookie. Tell me, old pal, how did it feel when Cookie was fucking me so you two could have a patsy for
Jimbo’s
murder? She’s one hot little number, isn’t she? And that thing she does with her tongue...”

A low growl rumbled up through Kent’s throat. He pulled back, the gun now out of Nick’s reach completely. Kent’s lip lifted in a snarl.

Bull’s-eye. Kent and Cookie had been planning for months. But Kent hadn’t liked that his lover was doing someone else.

“Wonder if she was making all that noise just for show?” Nick lifted his shoulder nonchalantly. “Nah. She was really enjoying herself.”

“Get up.”

Nick’s eyes ached to look down at his watch. How much time had he used up? “Fuck you.”

“I’ll kill you right here. Crouched on your knees.” Tension snapped through Kent’s voice.

“If that was part of your plan, you’d have done it already. I suspect you don’t want to kill me around here. You want a patsy. That’s what you’ve wanted all along. Otherwise you would have killed
Jimbo
yourself right out of the chute instead of having Cookie set up Warren Spivey to do it.”

He was damn sure about that part of their scheme, the failed part. But what did they plan for Bobbie?

“I said get the fuck up.” Kent stepped back, wrapping both hands around the gun and planting his feet apart.

Nick turned his head, glared into his one-time friend’s eyes. Kent’s gaze glittered, his jaw flexed. Nick didn’t make a move.

Kent lashed out, shoving Nick with his boot. “We’re going inside. I want you to watch her die.”

“You’ll die first.”

Kent’s laugh cut across his words. “Oh, I don’t think so.” He waved the gun. “I’ve got all the advantages.”

Seconds ticked by. Neither of them gave an inch. Then Kent whispered, “Guess I’ll have to kill you here since you’re so uncooperative.”

Where the fuck was
Brax
? Nick put his hands on his knees, snatching a quick look at his watch, and pushed to his feet. Fifteen minutes, how much more time did the freaking sheriff need?

“You win.” He leaned down to brush leaves and twigs from his jeans, then raked Kent with a look. “For now.”

Kent stepped in behind him, pushed him forward with a sharp jab in the back. “Move.”

He walked slowly, counting the seconds in his head. The porch steps creaked loudly beneath their combined weight, the wood of the decking groaned. With Kent behind him like a shadow and the gun gouging his back, Nick eased the door open.

He almost sagged with relief. Tied to a chair, hands behind her, Bobbie was alive.
Thank you, God.
She cried out his name when she saw him, then snapped her attention back to Cookie.

A gun wobbled in the widow’s hands.

Kent shoved him from behind, stepping over the threshold. Sliding his own weapon across Nick’s ribs, he rammed it hard against bone. “Keep your goddamn hands up.” Leaning in, he whispered, “Get ready for the show, buddy.”

“Kent,” Cookie blurted.

“What are you waiting for, baby? Do it.”

Cookie looked at her lover. Her chin trembled. “Kent. I think I’ve changed my mind.” Then she whipped the gun around and pulled it up, aiming right for Kent’s head. “I think you better put yours down. Bobbie’s going to tell
Brax
it was all you. And that I rescued her.”

* * * * *

“You fucking bitch.”

Oh Lord. Kent English was yelling at
her
, not Cookie. Her heart in her throat, Bobbie could only stare at Nick, at the gun in his side, and pray she hadn’t made a horrible mistake.

Livid lines blanched Kent’s face, Cookie’s hands wavered, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and there were two too many guns in the small room.

Cookie hadn’t followed the plan. Or rather, Kent had returned too soon and Cookie never made it behind the door.

Nick’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “Looks like she’s not as stupid as you thought, huh, old pal.”

“You shut the fuck up.”

Nick winced at the jab to his ribs. “I’ll back you up, too, Cookie.”

Kent snarled, an animal-like sound that shivered over Bobbie’s nerve endings. “Don’t forget who’s got the gun on
you
, asshole.” Then the man turned his angry gaze on Bobbie. “Maybe you want to change your mind about any stories you plan to tell
Brax
, Bobbie. Unless you want me to shoot Nick right here.”

A bubble of panic clogged her throat. She opened her mouth, ready to beg, plead, anything.

Cookie rendered entreaty unnecessary. “But I’ll still be able to shoot you.”

“You couldn’t hit Eugenia Meade’s fat ass, you stupid cow.”

Cookie’s eyes narrowed, her shoulders straightening. “
Jimbo
taught me to shoot. I’ll have you know I’m an expert.”

Kent’s head tipped. Surprise furrowed his brow. “You never told me that.”

Cookie raised her nose. “I didn’t need to before.”

Nick’s gaze steadied on Bobbie, his jaw tilted toward Kent. Bobbie prayed he wouldn’t say a word or twitch a muscle.

Something in Kent’s eyes changed, a glint of craftiness. “Cookie, sweetheart, let’s not fight. That bitch told you a bunch of crap. We can make this work if we stick together.”

“It works better if
you
get all the blame.”

The sweet talk died on his curled lip. “Who do you think
Brax
is going to believe? Me or you? I’ve known him a
helluva
lot longer.”

“If you’re dead, then he gets to hear only my side of the story.” Cookie smiled. It was neither the cajoling smile she’d probably used to con Warren nor the spitfire smirk she’d blasted Bobbie with that day outside Bushman’s. This was the smile of a manipulator.