Stonebrook Cottage (36 page)

"You think you're so smart, Kara, but you don't have a clue. Well, in five minutes you'll get the picture. I'll try to save you, of course, and I might even get wounded in the process. But I won't succeed." With her free hand, she brushed beads of sweat off her upper lip. "People like me. They'll believe I acted heroically."

Kara eased her hands behind her back and grabbed up Henry's and Lillian's stiff fingers, holding them in hers as if she somehow could shield her godchildren from Billie Corrigan's violence and desperation. "Billie." Her calmness surprised her, but she knew she had no other choice—she had to keep a clear head. "Bil-lie—Allyson isn't dead. This isn't going to work."

Billie sniffed. "Damn bomb didn't blow up the way I expected. A simple little gas can near a bonfire worked better. If it hadn't been for Pete, this'd all be over. Big Mike'd be alive. He knew Allyson and the kids were in danger—he knew about her and Pete. He wanted their affair out in the open. He told Hatch. He wanted Hatch to pressure Allyson." Sweat stains spread across her white blouse. "They'd argued before—I overheard them from the woods. Big Mike suspected the bonfire wasn't an accident—he practically accused Hatch of being involved. Out at the pool that day—they were really shouting at each other." She shrugged. "But I was ready to act."

Kara tried to think, her mind racing. She knew to keep Billie talking, keep her calm, until she figured out what to do…but she had no time. There was another bomb. There had to be. It was the only reason for Billie to be here. She would want to keep them in place long enough for it to go off—which meant it had to be on a timer. "You found the bluebird at Madeleine's?"

"Broke its little leg myself."

Lillian gasped but said nothing. Kara squeezed the kids' hands gently. "You were lucky, weren't you? It was late in the season for juvenile bluebirds."

Billie glanced at her watch and smiled. "The clock is ticking. Pete, God love him. He couldn't stand there and let the gas can explode and not do anything. He had to act. But he'll see, even if Allyson is alive—he'll see what she is. He's just got a blind spot where she's concerned. He'll see what a selfish bitch she is—"

Henry shot his head around at her. "Don't call my mom names!"

Kara gently but firmly, quickly, shoved him back behind her. "I didn't know you could build bombs," she told Billie. Where had she put the one in the cottage? How much longer before it went off? "You do such beautiful parties."

"Trying to butter me up so I'll let you live? Forget it. My dad, the old drunk, taught me all sorts of things.

He used to fantasize about blowing up the snot-nosed actors and directors. Most of the stuff he put together was for show, but he could do the real thing." She licked her lips, her hand slipping slightly on the .38. "He did love his bombs, my dad. If he didn't drink, I guess he might have been good at it."

A car sounded on the dirt road. Billie raised the .38, cocking it. "Move one step and I'll shoot."

"Kara!"

Sam was at the front door. Pete was with him, calling for Henry and Lillian.

"No," Kara yelled, "there's a bomb!"

Billie's eyes flickered. Kara had the split-second distraction she needed. She shoved Henry and Lillian back across the kitchen, toward the living room. "Go, run, get outside as fast as you can."

Henry hesitated. "What about you—"

"Go!"

They scrambled, screaming as Billie Corrigan tore open the screen door and barreled into the kitchen. Kara grabbed a chair from the table and shoved it at Billie, throwing off Billie's aim as she fired, a sharp, cracking sound followed by another shot. She fell backward through the screen door and down the steps. Kara staggered, wondering how Billie could have fired twice, that fast.

Then she realized she was on the kitchen floor, but couldn't remember falling. She felt a searing pain in her side. She held it, thinking she had a cramp, then saw the blood oozing between her fingers. "Ah, hell…"

Sam was there, scooping her up with one arm around her waist, Jack's .45 in his free hand. He half carried her, half ran with her toward the back door, then kicked it open and dropped her, hurling her down the steps, leaping after her.

She landed hard in the grass, the explosion happening around her, ripping through the small kitchen—not as big a bang as the one at the barn, she thought crazily, feeling the bomb's concussion lift her. She heard a window pop out and crash, the hiss of flames, children yelling and crying. She smelled acrid smoke.

Pete…he had to have gotten Henry and Lillian out through the front. They had to be okay.

Sam got to his feet, and Kara managed to crawl up onto her hands and knees, the wind knocked out of her, pain and dizziness seizing her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Billie on her stomach, reaching with a bloody hand for Wally's gun.

Kara felt blood warm on her side, dripping through her shirt. Through her haze of shock, she realized Billie would shoot Sam—and she'd had enough. She staggered to her feet, and with one arm swept the hibachi off the table onto Billie Corrigan's head, then felt herself collapsing.

Sam caught her before she hit the ground, and he eased her down gently. "It's okay, darlin'. I've got you."

"You do, don't you?" She winced, dizzy with pain. "Oh, Sam. I told you there was a bomb. Did you listen? Of course not. You came running, .45 blazing. Damn Texas Rangers."

He knelt beside her and tore off his shirt, giving her a wink of pure bravado. "I know where they keep the fire extinguishers."

"The barn and the cottage…what a mess." She was aware of Sam wrapping his shirt around her wound and didn't know why she didn't stop him. "You should have let me keep my gun."

"Probably should have."

"Couldn't you have shot Billie before she shot me?"

"That was my plan until you threw the chair at her."

She smiled, or thought she did. "It was a pretty good move, don't you think?"

"Damn good move. Kara, you saved those kids."

He held her, putting pressure on the wound, and she shuddered with pain, saw her blood spilling onto his hand. She sank against his chest. "If you were the one who got shot, I'd take care of you. I would, Sam. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes. I know."

"I'll defend you if Zoe West arrests you for using your weapon. Hell, it's not even department issue, it's Jack's. Oh, Jesus…he's on his way up here."

She heard sirens, up close now. Sam held her, kissing her on the forehead. She couldn't talk anymore. She shut her eyes, leaning into him, and it didn't hurt so much.

Kara didn't make a very good patient, but one of the paramedics who tended her in the backyard of Stone-brook Cottage knew her from her Connecticut days. Sam gathered he was another reformed criminal. Whoever he was, he told her to shut up and be still. The bullet, he said, had grazed a nasty path just below her rib cage but didn't look as if it had gone in. She was very lucky.

But Sam had to admit she'd probably thrown Billie's aim off with that chair.

Another paramedic crew worked on Billie Corrigan. It wasn't going as well for her. Sam's aim, even with a bomb about to go off and a chair flying, was better. Hatch was with her. The paramedics ran IVs and tried to stop the bleeding as they got her onto a stretcher.

Zoe West stood next to Sam. "Deadly force was called for?"

"Yes." He'd already turned his weapon over to her.

"The Texas Rangers—they going to fire you?"

"Maybe."

She eyed him. "You give a damn?"

"Not right now, no."

"I'd tell everyone I shot her if I could get away with it."

"Thanks, Detective," Sam said. "I appreciate the thought."

"No, you don't. You're a straight arrow, Sergeant. If I were down in Texas and shot one of your citizens, you'd have my gun and my badge."

But she moved away, the volunteer firefighters working on the cottage, the place crawling with town and state cops. And reporters. The media were descending. Sam moved closer to Billie Corrigan. He took no pleasure in watching anyone die.

"Don't say you did this for me." Hatch choked back tears as he held his sister's hand. "Billie…you killed one of my closest friends. You almost killed the only family I've ever known other than you."

"Hatch, don't—I did it for you." Her voice was insistent, thready from fatigue and loss of blood. "Big Mike thought you tried to kill Allyson. He'd have made your life miserable."

"No, Billie. He'd have found out it was you.
I'd
have found out. That's what you were afraid of."

"You deserve some of Lawrence's money," she whispered. "You
do,
Hatch. He was your brother."

"I don't want the damn money. I never have. You
know
that."

She shook her head. "I don't believe it." She drifted a moment, came back. "And Pete. He couldn't love anyone else while he was still under Allyson's spell. Hey, brother. You don't hate me, do you?"

"No. I wish I could. Billie…oh, Jesus, don't die on me!"

"Wally was a dumb idea, Hatch. You wanted him to find out if it was me, didn't you?"

"I wasn't sure—I didn't know what to do, what to believe. I thought he'd at least keep the kids safe—"

"Wally had his own agenda. He found out about Pete and Allyson, started calling her—he threatened to pin Big Mike's death on her. You couldn't have that, Hatch. You'd have turned me in for sure before you let Allyson take the fall."

A paramedic turned to Hatch. "She needs to stay quiet."

He nodded. "Billie…rest, okay?"

"That's why I went after Charlie. I didn't want—" She tried to raise up, but the paramedic gently restrained her. "I didn't want you hurt. Hatch, please say you believe me."

"I believe you, Billie."

"Big Mike…I knew he'd try to save that bluebird."

Her eyes were shut now, and the paramedics lifted her stretcher as she drifted into unconsciousness. Sam doubted she'd make it to the hospital alive. Hatch watched them take his sister away. He seemed rooted to his spot on the lawn, the cool wind catching the ends of his hair.

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"She can't believe she tried to kill Allyson and the kids for me. For me! So I could inherit." He didn't look at Sam, just stared at the bloodstains in the grass. "I was afraid she was up to something—I hired Wally to keep Henry and Lillian safe while I figured things out, but it turns out he had his own agenda. My God." He raised his head suddenly, fastened his incisive gaze on Sam. "Have you ever had something stare you in the face that you simply refuse to accept?"

"I imagine we all do."

Hatch Corrigan brushed at tears on his cheeks, but his voice was unaffected. "I felt sorry for Billie. She had to deal with our father more than I did. She watched him fall to his death. I thought she was happy here, satisfied with her work. Instead, it ate her up, seeing Pete Jericho mooning after Allyson month after month. That was it, you know. That was what drove her to go after Allyson and the kids. I knew she was in love with him but I never—" He broke off.

Sam nodded. He'd had people unload on him before after experiencing violence. It was never pleasant. "Then the money was a rationalization?"

"To a degree. Billie knew if I inherited I'd have taken care of her." He exhaled, sniffled, and pulled out a folded handkerchief and dabbed his eyes. He added abruptly, "Kara was never in love with me. But I think you know that."

Sam said nothing.

"I'm not good at close relationships. I think that's why I stayed in love with her for so long. It was convenient, easy, because I knew she wasn't in love with me and never would be." He returned his handkerchief to his pocket. "I preferred it that way."

A state trooper came back and told them they'd heard from the ambulance. Billie Corrigan was dead. Hatch gave a curt nod and turned away, walking out past the charred cottage to a quiet spot in the shade.

Sam's cell phone rang, and he knew exactly who it was.

"We're at the Hartford airport," Jack said. "Susanna and the girls are glued to CNN. They've got the story as breaking news—an explosion at the governor's summer house. She's seriously injured. Damn it…now they're saying there are fatalities."

"The suspect and a bodyguard."

"Kara?"

"She'll be okay. She's on her way to the hospital. A bullet grazed her on the right side. She was telling me everything I did wrong when they loaded her into the ambulance. Jack, she saved those two kids' lives—"

"Where are they?"

"With a friend of their mother's." Pete Jericho, Sam thought. Pete wasn't letting them go. "We're all heading to the hospital now."

"I'll meet you there. What about you, Sam? You okay?"

"I'm responsible for one of the fatalities."

Twenty-Four

K
ara tried to focus on her brother and sister-in-law, but her eyes didn't seem to want to work properly. And she wasn't making any sense. She knew it was the medication. Pete Jericho had stopped in briefly and warned her she'd feel a little nuts for a while, but she probably wouldn't remember half of it, anyway. And he'd told her Allyson would be okay. His voice cracked when he said it.