Come Hell or High Desire (13 page)

Sergeant Bradley’s lips continued moving, but Sloane didn’t hear another word. The
room swam in darkness a moment as she fought her way back to coherence.

He’d said pastor
. In light of everything, that could only mean Dallan O’Neill.

Murdered? By whom? The same person who killed Tori? There were two different MOs for
the kill, though. So did Dallan kill Tori, then meet his own death from the man who’d
attacked Zack? And where was Ann?

The only thing Sloane knew for certain was that Zack was innocent. She looked at him
and felt her bones hollow. “Zack! Tell them there was another man here when you arrived.”
She spun toward Sergeant Bradley. “The other man was the one who killed Dallan O’Neill,
not Zack!”

“Hold up. I didn’t identify the victim. How do you know who—”

“Analyze the blood on the floor. That’s the blood of the guy who got away.
He’s
the killer. Zack, tell them!” Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Ms. Swift, go with Officer Giles immediately, or we’ll let you cool off in the county
jail.” Bradley’s eyes were tired. He turned to respond to a tap on his shoulder from
a technician.

“This is crazy. Zack is
innocent.
He was here to retrieve documents to help you in the investigation of Ann’s disappearance!”
Sloane walked up to Zack as Giles unfastened his handcuffs from his belt. She ignored
him, directing all her anger at Zack. “This is
not
okay, dammit. I thought you were a fighter. How are you going to help Ann if you
go to jail for something you didn’t even do? I was ready to face my demons for you,
Zack. Wake the hell up and be the man John thought you could be. The man I know you
are.”

His clenched jaw let her knew she’d hit her mark. She held her wrists out for the
cuffs and followed Giles out the front door, every step away from Zack a blow to the
heart.

Her highly intellectual father called this sort of thing tough love.

She finally understood.

And hated it.

Chapter Eighteen

Zack nearly bit though his cheek watching Officer Giles usher Sloane into the back
of the squad car. She didn’t belong here surrounded by violence and death. Exposing
her to such horror concerned him more than his bruised rib. Almost as much as her
blistering censure.

He deserved it.

Somehow, she’d once again cut through all the bullshit. John had been the only other
one to do that. John had believed in him.

And so, he finally realized, did Sloane.

By losing Ann, he’d let John down. If he gave up now, he’d do the same to Sloane.
How had she known everything that had happened to him since he’d shown up here at
Ann’s tonight? She’d flown in here like an avenging angel, and he hadn’t even backed
her up.

He turned to Officer Janklow. “I’ll give my statement now.”

The cop opened his mouth to say something when another man stepped into view.

“Really? This I’d like to hear, Goldman.”

Detective Barnaba.
Perfect.

Zack forced air through his nose though his chest protested the expansion. He flexed
his fingers so they wouldn’t ball into fists. He had to rein in his emotions. No way
was he going to come out of this if he was as undisciplined as he’d been eleven years
ago when he’d had his first encounter with the detective.

“You requested documents of Ann’s, and I brought them to the station earlier. Later
on, I thought of something else which I came here to get, but someone was already
in the condo. I surprised him, we fought, and in defense, I shot him with his own
gun. I left him in the hallway to see if Ann was in the house, then I found O’Neill’s
body. He’d been shot three times and was dead when I found him. I didn’t kill him,
Barnaba.”

“Okay. So where is this ‘other’ suspect? And who is he? Another lover of Ann’s?” Zack
started, and Barnaba smiled. “You’re surprised I found out about Ann and O’Neill?
You underestimate me, Goldman. Like you always have.” He paused, placing his hands
on his hips. “A theory is sliding around in my mind. A certain love triangle between
Ann, O’Neill, and…you.”

“You son of a bitch. I could never—”

“Careful, there.” Barnaba’s teeth flashed, a camera-perfect contrast to his tanned
face. “I think Ann chose the esteemed Pastor over you, and you couldn’t handle that.
Not when you’d been rejected by so many others. Maybe it made you so mad you wanted
to get rid of the competition.”

Zack strained against his cuffs. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself over Kasey, and
do your fucking job. There’s a killer out there. That’s his blood on the floor. Get
your dogs on the scent.” The men glared at one another until Barnaba turned to look
at one of the officers. “Janklow, send a tech over here to get a sample from this
lowlife, then get him out of my face.”

“We don’t have a warrant on him yet, sir.”

Barnaba parted his sport coat to put his hands on his hips and swung around to face
Zack. “You gonna sign a release stating we can take a DNA swab off you?”

“My genes should be on record, but what the hell. Sounds like a good time.”

A hazmat-suited tech came running from the back room. “Anybody got a box? We got a
feral cat back there.”

“
Grab it!
” someone yelled as a streak of gray shot through the house and outside into the night.
Barnaba shook his head before he moved off.

Zack’s shoulders dropped and he looked at the floor until another tech came over.
In no time, he’d signed the release and given his oral swab. What did it really matter?
It would either clear him or it wouldn’t.

Most likely it wouldn’t.

Janklow nudged him toward the door. “Let’s go, buddy.”

Zack looked around desperately as the warm night air hit his face. Sweat trickled
down his back and the sides of his face. The pain in his chest was no more.

Find a way out
.

Officer Giles stood talking to one of the other cops. The swirling red lights of the
squad cars cast monstrous visages on the faces of the gathered crowd. Sloane was nowhere
to be seen. Had she given her statement so quickly? They’d better have let her go.

The closer they got to the waiting police vehicle, the faster the past reared up,
flooding him with memories of his beating in that seedy alley so many years ago. He’d
held his own with the first three gangbangers Kasey had hired. When four more joined
in, he’d gone down in the worst beating of his life. The first responding officers
had pulled the thugs off him, clubbing them back with batons, pepper spray, and Tasers.

Then Barnaba had turned up and his luck had hit the road.

History seemed to be repeating itself.

Fuck that
.

When Janklow moved ahead of him to open the squad door, Zack brought his right leg
up in a jackknife kick that bounced the officer against the car. Janklow went down,
momentarily dazed. Zack didn’t wait to see if he drew his gun. He ran, weaving through
yards, using the element of surprise, mature trees, and the dark to his advantage
until his lungs screamed. Behind him he heard men yelling to each other as they spread
out in pursuit.

He headed for the river where the trees grew denser, providing more cover. He wanted
to go all the way into the water in case they called in the K-9 unit, but with the
cuffs, he’d have trouble staying afloat. He continued on, hugging the bank, entering
the water where it was shallow enough, putting distance between himself and the officers
who didn’t have his experience with the terrain. His heart pounded in his throat and
mosquitoes swarmed every exposed surface.

If only he could use his hands.

A small branch broke the skin below his eye as he stumbled through thickly tangled
underbrush. He managed to right himself at the last instant, but pain shot up his
chest through his left arm. He saw stars as he struggled for footing and pressed on
toward his destination.

You’d better be home, Raessler.

Like Zack, Archie had always loved the Red River. Zack had never been happier his
friend had built his wife’s dream house in such a private spot. A few miles later,
he climbed the bank toward the Raessler’s backyard and sprinted for the patio door.
It sucked that he had to involve his friends in any way, but once he got the cuffs
off, he’d move on.

Zack heard Archie’s dogs barking madly inside the house. Archie had probably grabbed
his twelve gauge and posted somewhere strategic. He prayed his buddy wouldn’t let
the dogs out because they’d bite first and sniff later.

Zack used his foot to pound on the patio door. A light flicked on in the kitchen,
and Archie flew outside, his shotgun pointed to the ground. “What the piss, man? Get
in here!”

Twyla stood in the kitchen, a navy blue robe belted tightly above her rounded abdomen.
Her eyes widened as she took in his swollen, bloody face and handcuffs. Then she turned
to the sink to fill a tea kettle.

Zack’s torso and legs began to shake. “Don’t do that on my account. I’m not sticking
around.”

Archie slapped a hand on the counter. “Stop that. What’s going on?”

“I need these off.” He lifted his arms behind his back and winced. “And some ibuprofen.
Please.”

Twyla hustled to the bathroom and returned with six small pills. Archie lifted a glass
of water to Zack’s mouth and the pills, then brushed a kiss on his wife’s cheek. “Go
on back to bed, love. Turn off all the lights. I’ll be in soon.”

He grabbed a set of keys off the wall and didn’t say anything as they neared his workshop
behind the house. Once they were inside, he shut the door and pulled the string affixed
to the single bulb above the saw table. Then he put on his safety glasses, shoved
another pair on Zack, and took an electric angle grinder off a shelf of meticulously
arranged power tools. Zack turned around, bent over, and cranked his arms up to lay
them on the table. “Hurry.”

“I’ll cut them apart, then we’ll worry about the rest.” Archie started the grinder
and within seconds, the chain between the cuffs broke apart.

Zack shook out his arms, testing the pain in his chest, and laid his hands on the
table. Free arms relieved the pressure in his midsection tremendously.

“I don’t know, man,” Archie said. “Your wrists are so big, I don’t have much leeway
to cut.”

“I can’t leave with these attached. Come on, you’re a master with this thing.” Zack
tried to smile, but failed. Besides, this was Archie. He didn’t have to pretend.

For a moment, he thought his buddy would refuse, but then he clamped down on Zack’s
forearm so tightly he felt his arm tingle. “Lord Almighty, I don’t need a tourniquet.”

Archie looked up at him and grinned. “Case I nick you, I don’t want you to bleed to
death on my table.”

Great.
Zack closed his eyes as the grinder started spinning. The heat of the disc ripping
through the metal burned so bad he thought his skin would melt. Archie held his arm
in a death grip, the grinder unyielding in his other hand. Bile rose in Zack’s throat
and he wanted to look away, but couldn’t help himself from watching as the disc chewed
through the metal, closer and closer until it was almost all the way through.

When mere millimeters held the cuff together, Archie laid the grinder aside and reached
for metal clippers to finish the task. The other cuff fell off in quick succession,
and Zack was free. He slumped onto his forearms against the work table, and managed
the ghost of a smile. “Thanks. I owe you big.”

Archie grunted and walked over to his shop fridge and pulled out a water bottle and
half a sandwich. “I’m going to clean this up and then lay back down beside my wife
where I’ve been all night. Come tomorrow, if anybody asks, I never moved. What else
do you need?”

“Would you check on Kiefer and Maya and get me a phone? I lost mine somewhere. Either
in my truck or on the ground at Ann’s. Either way, the cops’ll find it.”

“No problem. I’ll bring the mutts here. You go to ground, then let me know where I
can get a phone to you.”

When Zack started to thank him, Archie held up his hand. “Shit goes down, we pull
together. I saw the news orgy earlier about the poor woman by the river. It’s all
the media’s been talking about all night. And now you find O’Neill dead at Ann’s?
Leaves a lot more questions, I know.” He swept the table with a hand broom, then sprayed
it with cleaner. Something spattered on the metal roof of the Quonset, and both men
froze. But one drop quickly followed another until it became a steady patter. Zack
saw Archie’s shoulders loosen up and tried to make his do the same. The rain would
help cover his tracks.

“I don’t know how this has gotten so messed up, but if something happens to me—”

“Shut your damn mouth. This’ll be okay. We always land on our feet.”

Zack recognized the look on his oldest friend’s face. Fear masked by anger. “But if
I don’t, make them rush me to surgery. Have them take both kidneys—put one on ice
or something. Just in case. Hand me some paper. I’ll write a note.”

Archie slapped the small broom against the table. “Stop it before I turn you in myself.”
His eyes communicated what he couldn’t say. What it meant when someone saw your darkness
and fought for you anyway. The unshakable bond born of desperate circumstances and
even more desperate despair. The gut-level awareness that your life had meaning beyond
death.

Knowing you would leave a hole in someone’s life should you go.

It was all there in Archie’s expression, so thick with memory Zack nearly choked on
it.

“My kids need a goddamn uncle.” Archie cleared his throat roughly and emptied the
dustpan into an Arby’s bag, which he buried at the bottom of a garbage can. He reorganized
a few tools that didn’t need reorganizing before turning back to Zack. “Friend of
mine has a beat up El Camino down behind the Curling Club shack. Keys are under the
back fender for emergencies. I guess now qualifies.”

Zack didn’t know how his stomach would be able to handle any food right now, but he
held up the sandwich. “Thanks again. I don’t know what—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll call in some IOUs when the baby comes along and Twyla and I need
a night out.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Zack’s throat suddenly felt
tight. The two men stared at each other a moment before Zack grabbed the remains of
the handcuffs then quickly slipped out the door and vanished into the night.

It wasn’t until a few miles down the river that he chucked the handcuffs into the
sluggish water, wondering how Archie already knew the identity of the man who was
murdered in Ann’s bedroom when there was no way in hell it could have been released
to the public yet.