TailSpin - Catherine Coulter [144]
Was that Rachael yelling? At Laurel? “You bloody bitch! That’s it, I’ve had it with you, do you hear me?” She heard a door slam in the distance, fast footsteps, heard a struggle, then Rachael screaming, “I’ve got the gun! Quincy, Stefanos, don’t you two move! No, wait, move—I want to wipe you off the face of the earth! You murdering bastards, you murdered my father!”
Even though she couldn’t move, Sherlock heard the sound of men’s voices, then Quincy yelling. Why? Maybe to save himself from Rachael?
Sherlock smiled. One of the men’s voices was Dillon’s. He’d taken his time, but he was here now. Finally he was here. She heard Rachael shouting, heard Dillon’s voice, quiet and close. Everything was all right now.
She felt cold suddenly, but it didn’t matter. Dillon would see to things. She closed her eyes and let her brain shut down.
SIXTY-FOUR
Savich lightly rubbed his fingers along her palm. He hated that her beautiful hand was limp, the flesh flaccid. But he’d put cream on her hands and they were soft. Two days, two whole days since that crazy woman shot you. Two days, but at least you’ll live. I’ve prayed so much I’ll bet God has closed down the switchboard. Do you know how close Laurel came to killing you? Jack was squeezing your side so tight you’re still bruised.
Savich looked up to see Mr. Maitland standing quietly in the doorway.
“The pain was pretty sharp so they gave her some more morphine,” Savich said. “She’s out. Before she closed her eyes, she asked me if she’d gotten Stefanos’s ribs. I told her three of them were busted, that he was hurting pretty bad. She said her aim with her Swiss Army knife wasn’t what you’d call real accurate—small wonder since it isn’t made for throwing. I told her Laurel wasn’t feeling too hot, either, and wasn’t it better that she’d stand trial and lose everything?
“Then she told me she really doesn’t need her spleen. I agreed. What was a spleen in the face of all the problems in the world? She was out again before she could laugh.”
Both of them considered this.
Maitland said, “We’ve got Brady Cullifer in a stylish orange jump-suit in a nice cell. He’s demanding to make a deal, ready and willing to roll big on Quincy, Stefanos, and Laurel because he claims he never killed anyone. The prosecutors—particularly Dickie—want him to sweat big-time before they offer him anything.”
Savich said after a moment, “That shoot-up we had in the Barnes & Noble in Georgetown—Sherlock was so angry at me because Perky could have killed me. To preserve my marriage, I let her throw me around at the gym.”
He sighed. “Now, look at her, flat on her back, minus her spleen, and I’m the wreck.”
“It’s over now, everyone’s alive, and all your agents are working double to cover your cases for you. We’ve got auditors going over all the Abbott corporation books. Be interesting to see what we find.”
Savich thought about it for a moment, then said, “There’s something I should tell you about the senator.” And Savich did, every detail of what happened eighteen months before.
Maitland said, “Thank you for telling me, Savich.” He sighed. “I know none of us want it, but it’s going to come out anyway at the trial. Hell of a thing. I am sorry about all of it.”
There was a light rap on the door. A nurse stuck her head in. “Agent Savich? Your mother-in-law begged me to come in and pull you out of here so she can see her daughter.”
Savich kissed Sherlock’s mouth, straightened, and said, “Okay, she can have five minutes.”
The nurse smiled at him.
Maitland said, “They’re all here—your mom, your boy, your sister, your in-laws from San Francisco, half the unit. I wonder when Director Mueller will show up. We even have some media. No, don’t worry, we’ll deal with them when the time comes.”
Maitland closed a big hand on Savich’s shoulder. “When Sherlock wakes up,