Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [95]
“Or maybe you told someone else where to find the gun. Or maybe you gave the gun away. But it doesn’t prove that anyone other than you killed your wife and kids.”
Ignoring Will’s comment, Vince asked, “Aren’t you wasting time sitting here talking to me? Shouldn’t you be out looking for the guy who killed my wife and kids?”
“Waste of time, Cahill.” Will shook his head. “I told you he was a waste of time.”
“Hey, sorry I couldn’t be of any assistance.” Vince made no effort to hide his smirk.
“Vinnie, your sincerity is choking me up.”
“And your interest is touching, you know? I don’t get much company. A guy can get pretty lonely in here.”
“Sooner or later, we all get what we deserve, I guess.” She stood up to leave.
“I guess we do.” Giordano stared at her, then grinned broadly. “Sooner or later, you’re gonna get what you deserve, too, Agent Cahill. Wish I could be around to see it all go down.”
Miranda looked at Will and smiled.
“I’d take that as a confirmation, wouldn’t you?”
“I would.”
“Thanks, Vinnie.”
“For what?”
“For saving us the time we would have spent looking for that third victim.”
“I don’t know nothing about no victims.” Giordano smiled back at her. “Except my own, of course.”
“You know, you never did say how you came to choose those individuals to murder, Vinnie.”
“They were in my way.”
“Right. And I’m the Lone Ranger.”
“You lonely, Cahill, I got something for you. Pretty lady like you should never be alone.”
“Ugh, I’m gagging now.” Miranda signaled to the guard. “Get him out of here.”
“You want to talk, Giordano, you just give a holler,” Will said.
“Cold day in hell, Fletcher.” Giordano headed back to the door, calling over his shoulder, “Be seeing you, Cahill.”
“Not if I can help it.” She tapped Will on the arm to let him know she was leaving, and he followed her through the door.
Well, then. Wasn’t that interesting?
Vince couldn’t help but grin all the way back to his cell. Well, of course, that Cahill was always something to look at. And if things went the way they were supposed to go, he probably wouldn’t get another chance just to sit and stare at that face, that body. Those legs . . .
Damn shame, take out a looker like that. But, hey, a deal’s a deal, and Channing wanted her out, so she’s out. Assuming that Archer was on the ball, and that was assuming a lot, Vince knew. Archer hadn’t been the brightest bulb in the room that day back in February.
But he’d apparently been true to his word, Vince reminded himself. Faithful to his promise. Vince had seen the press conference on television, had seen the photograph of Archer they’d shown. Had caught the New Jersey cop’s comments about how Lowell was wanted for questioning in connection with the Josh Landry murder as well as a murder in Ohio, and Cahill had just confirmed that Unger had been taken out. That meant that Archer Lowell had already gotten two out of his three. As many as Channing had gotten, as many as Vince himself.
Vince shook his head slightly as the guard opened the cell door and stepped to the side to permit Vince to enter. Hard to believe that Archer Lowell might even best what the other two had done. Boy, that would be something, wouldn’t it? If dumb-ass Archer managed to do what neither Vince nor Curtis Channing had been able to do: hit all his targets.
There was still Cahill, though, and she was not going to be an easy target to hit.
Vince sat down on the edge of his cot, still thinking about the irony of Lowell besting the other two.
Lowell had had help, though, hadn’t he? Didn’t that give him an advantage? Then again, dumb as Archer was, he deserved the handicap. Assuming that Burt had been true to his word and ridden herd on Archer the way Vince had asked him to. And Burt had been paid handsomely for his trouble, hadn’t he?
If in fact he’d gone to the trouble . . .
Rubbing his chin, Vince thought about the possibility that maybe Burt had simply taken the money and said the