The sirens were drawing close. Seconds later, he could hear the slam of car doors and the shouts of men he didn’t recognize. He had to make a decision. Dropping his gun, he lifted his hands and stepped in front of Latisha’s dad.
“Do it!” he yelled. “Do it now! I’m right here.”
His actions took the man by surprise. Seemingly determined to give Malcolm exactly what he’d asked for, he aimed. But then he lowered his weapon. “Hell, no. You ain’t worth it. I’d rather leave you to your own kind.” Then he fired a final shot into the ceiling and ran out the back.
The stampede of feet told Malcolm the police were coming through the front door. Scrambling for his gun, he reclaimed it and raised it, pointing at the entrance to the room. If he couldn’t get Latisha’s dad to shoot him, he’d provoke the first officer. But that officer didn’t fire. Instead he ducked behind the wall and yelled out, “Put down your weapon!”
“You’re not taking me in. I won’t go to prison,” Malcolm said. Then he turned the gun on himself. Squeezing his eyes closed, he swallowed hard and told himself to pull the trigger. One shot, and his brains would splatter on the wall. It would all be over. It was the only way left to win.
But he couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the guts.
Sagging to his knees, he let the gun fall as tears began to streak his face. Sebastian had won.
Jane couldn’t believe that Sebastian was safe. She saw the dent in the bulletproof vest he’d been wearing that showed where the bullet had gone. It had hit him hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He admitted that it hurt, said he’d have a bruise on his chest, but it hadn’t seriously harmed him. He was fine and, although she felt as if her head was about to explode from the beating, Jane knew she’d be okay, too. Once again, she’d survived.
“Where’s Kate?” she asked as Sebastian held her in the back of David’s car. David was inside now, but he’d called an ambulance, was insisting that both of them get medical help. Afterward, they’d have to answer a lot of questions. But that could wait. The police had more important things to do right now.
“At the Burkes’.”
“Does she know that I was in danger?”
“No. I didn’t tell her.”
“That’s good.” She closed her eyes until she felt Sebastian nudge her gently.
“Can you believe it’s over?” he murmured.
She gazed at the car that held Malcolm. He wasn’t looking at them. His head was bowed as if he knew he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
“He’s going to prison,” she said.
“He was a cop who murdered three people. They have irrefutable proof. I think he’ll get the death penalty.”
“Where do you suppose they’ll try him?”
“Here.”
“But he killed two people in New Jersey. They have the death penalty there, too, don’t they?”
“They do, but they haven’t had an execution since 1976.”
An officer crossed the lawn and strolled up, frowning over some notes he’d been taking on a clipboard. “When I got here, I heard two different kinds of gunshots. But you two were the only people I met coming out. Was there someone else inside the house, someone besides the two of you and Mr. Turner over there?”
Jane sat up despite the blazing pain in her head and looked around them. Where had Luther gone? He’d appeared and disappeared in a matter of minutes. Why hadn’t he stayed?
And then she understood. There must be warrants out for his arrest. If he’d stayed, he would’ve ended up in jail himself, even though it was largely because of him that she and Sebastian had made it out alive. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “But then, I’m a little confused. I-I was punched in the head. I heard shots. But I have no idea where they were coming from.”
The officer turned to Sebastian. “What about you?”
Sebastian glanced at Jane, seemed to grasp what she was doing-and why she was doing it. “I fired a few shots. And Turner over there fired a bunch. He hit me with one. But that’s it, far as I know.”
The officer frowned. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered and walked away.
Jane smiled at Sebastian, then asked for his phone. He pulled it out of a pocket that was otherwise stuffed with ammunition and turned it on before handing it to her.
She wasn’t sure she could remember Luther’s number, but after three attempts, she reached him. “How did you know?” she asked without preamble.
“Know what?” he said.
“Where we were?”
“I came over to the office to see if I could fin’ you. I wanted to tell you that our boy was roughin’ up some hos earlier today, that he was back to his old tricks. I saw the van turn out of the drive and knew it was him. That was the same car my girls described to me. I tried to follow it but lost him. Took me a while, drivin’ that damn highway, to find it again. But then I saw it sittin’ there, plain as day in the driveway.”
“You saved our lives.”
“You did all you could for Latisha. I…appreciate that.”
It was the kindest thing Lucifer-Luther-had ever said to her. “Wow,” she murmured. “You’ve got me feeling all warm and fuzzy. Like maybe you don’t hate skinny white bitches anymore.”
His laugh was a deep rumble. “Don’ let it go to your head.”
She slipped her hand into Sebastian’s. “The police were wondering about a third shooter,” she told Luther.
“What’d you tell ’em?”
“That we don’t know of a third shooter.”
There was a slight pause. “That’s probably the best,” he said.
“We thought that might be the case. But they may not let it go. The evidence tells a different story, you know.”
“That’s okay. They’ll never know it was me unless you give them my name.”
That was probably true, as well. “How can I give them your name?” she said. “I didn’t see you there. I was too confused to really understand everything that occurred. And Sebastian didn’t see you, either.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
She could tell he was about to hang up. “Luther?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks,” she said and smiled as she disconnected.
“You feeling okay?” Sebastian asked.