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Authors: Caitlyn Willows

BOOK: Full On
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Chapter Thirteen

 

“Shutting your eyes won’t make us go away, Bev.” Russell sat
on the edge of her hospital bed. Casey sat on the other side. “Two people are
dead. A police officer was shot and is in critical condition. The gun used to
shoot him was found in my house, along with the whip used to kill Ricardo
Estavarez and a cane I presume was used on you.”

Casey scooped Bev’s limp hand into hers. Bev gripped hard.
“I’m scared.”

“No shit.” Russell dropped his hand over her other one. “We
all are.”

“He’s powerful.” Her words were barely audible.

“He’s a killer,” Russell said. “Is he the rapist as well?”

She opened her blue eyes to tears that trickled down her
cheeks. “I don’t know. It would make sense in some sick way. He wanted
Estavarez behind bars and was furious when that didn’t happen. When he was
beating me, he kept saying, ‘I will have justice.’”

Meaning he was furious when that didn’t happen to his
liking. “Why you? Is he part of—”

“Our community?” She swallowed hard. “Oh yes. Until all this
I didn’t realize how horrid he was. He hid it so well. He wanted Teri. Teri
wanted a high-profile ‘sugar daddy’.” Bev shook her head. “Trust me. No sugar
ever fell from that man. Still, I never suspected he would hurt her. There’d
never been any indication from any of the other girls. He wanted her. She
wanted him. Hell, she would have crawled through broken glass naked if he asked
her to do it. So I asked you to work with her, get her used to what to expect.
As far as I knew, they worked well together. Then this happened.” More tears.
“He came back to me, demanding another girl. I refused. He beat me. Threatened
me. Then said he’d find another way. That it was time to take matters into his
own hands. That he should have done so from the start.”

“A name would be nice, Beverly,” Casey told her.

Bev released the longest sigh Russell had ever heard. “Alden
Baker.”

That jerked them back. “Superior Court Judge?” he asked.

“That’s the one.” Bev gave a nod, firmer now, more sure of
the information she’d shared. Her fight was coming back.

Baker was damn pissed at the verdict. His experience in law
enforcement and apparently their lifestyle gave him the skills necessary to do
something like this. Why? God only knew. The chances of anyone believing it
were slim.

“We need you to make a police report,” Casey said.

“I’m ready,” Bev replied. Fire banked her gaze. “I’m finally
ready to fight back. He’s powerful, but no more so than some of the others
under my umbrella.”

“Then I’d say it was time to call in some of those favors.”
Russell patted her hand. “Want us to wait with you until the police arrive?”

“No.” She jerked her chin toward the cabinet by her bed.
“Hand me my phone. I have some calls to make. The man is going down, one way or
the other.”

“You call Valerie and let her know we’re on the way back.”
Casey handed him her cell. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He left them alone, dialing as he walked away. The call went
to voice mail. He glanced up in time to see the women hug, then tried again
only to get voice mail once more. It wasn’t a good sign.

“Call your man.” He thrust the phone toward Casey.
“Valerie’s not answering.”

Frowning, she dialed while they hurried toward the
elevators. “No answer.” She punched in 9-1-1. “Intruder in the house.” She spit
out Casey’s address. “Shots fired.” A lie to get police there faster. He prayed
it wasn’t really true.

Russell heard the operator’s muffled response, watched
determination gleam in Casey’s eyes. If she’d asked him to go to hell and back
on a fool’s mission right now, he’d go. They stepped into the elevator as she
ended the call.

“You have two choices, Russell. You can drive or you can use
this.” She opened her tote wide enough for him to see the handgun nestled
inside.

He grinned. “Or I can do both.”

“There’s only so much control a woman can relinquish at one
time.” In seconds her keys were in his hands. “Drive fast.”

He closed his fingers around the keys. “Don’t worry. I
will.”

* * * * *

The shot rang in her ears. Baker’s focus on Dan was
Valerie’s salvation and Dan’s doom. She managed to slip her fingers between her
neck and the whip to give herself some breathing room. Dan lay slumped and
bleeding against the wall from the bullet that pierced his chest. There was too
much blood to know where he’d been shot and she was too far away to know if he
was still breathing.

Baker yanked her to him, cutting off the circulation in her
fingers and shoved the weapon under her chin. “Play nice or you’re next.”

Who was he fooling? This man had no intention of letting her
live. She had to buy herself some time, no matter what the cost. The thought of
what she might have to endure as a result made her sick inside.

I have Russell. It’ll be all right. He’s all I need. We
can do this. We can get through anything.

“Anything,” she choked out.

Baker snorted. “Thought you’d say that. You little whores
are all the same. What did you promise Cambridge to throw the case? Blowjobs?
Nooners? Ass fucks? Man’s a damn fool. I needed that conviction!”

He shook her so hard her head snapped. Stars sprang before
her eyes. Valerie felt her legs give out. Baker shoved her away from him. She
hit the side table, knocking its contents to the floor as she fell. Her hand
landed on top of the heavy-duty paring knife. She wrapped her fingers around
it, stared at the target looming above her and lunged.

Baker’s scream cut through the room. He dropped the whip and
clutched his testicles with his gloved hands. He toppled to the floor too close
for comfort, drawing his knees to his chest. Blood streamed from his trousers
as he writhed before her. Valerie grasped the whip in her free hand and
scurried away, taking a stance between him and Dan, daring Baker to try another
attack, begging him to give her a reason to attack.

I’ll take you down, motherfucker.

She’d forgotten about the gun, now lying within reach if he
ever released his balls. Her confidence faltered.

As if he’d read her mind, Baker’s gaze cleared enough to see
the gun. Still gripping his privates with one hand, he reached with the other.
Valerie snapped the whip over his outstretched fingers. The crack sliced the
nitrile glove neatly. Baker quailed in pain and tucked himself into the fetal
position. She dashed forward, kicked the gun across the room and put distance
between them once more. Eyes locked on Baker, she squatted beside Dan to feel
for a pulse. It was faint but there. It wouldn’t be if they had to wait much
longer.

From him she edged toward the house phone. Dead. The son of
a bitch had cut the line. Her cell was buried in her purse on the kitchen
counter. Valerie hated taking her eyes off Baker. If he scrambled to his feet,
she might not be able to take him down. She returned to Dan to search his
jeans. His angle made it impossible to shove her fingers into the front
pockets, though she could clearly see what looked like the outline of a cell
phone in the right pocket. It seemed she had little choice.

“Sorry, Dan. I owe you a new pair.” If he lived. Valerie
slipped the knife into the pocket and ripped the jeans. His cell slid to the
floor. Valerie reached across him to retrieve it.

A knock at the door froze her. Not for the sound but for the
tension in Baker’s body. He was on his feet before she could think twice about
it, reaching for the door. Valerie jumped to her feet, lashing the whip in his
direction. He whirled around, caught the tip and yanked. The handle flew from
her grip. She toppled but managed to hold her ground.

Another knock pulled his head around, he opened the door,
hiding behind it. Estelita stared in from the other side of the screen door.
“Hello?”

Friend or foe?

“Call for help!” Valerie shouted. “I have an intruder.
Someone’s been shot.”

Estelita’s wide eyes grew wider, but instead of doing as
Valerie asked, she opened the screen door and stepped inside. “Carlos, no.
Enough is enough.” She eased around the interior door, then jumped back with a
squeal. “You are not Carlos.”

“No, lady. I’m not.” Baker snapped the whip around her
throat.

Valerie took advantage of the distraction to grab Dan’s
phone.

“Put it down,” he snarled. “Or she dies.”

What choice did she have? Valerie palmed the knife as she
stood. Estelita clawed for breath. Now what?

“Let her go.” A futile request. The more bodies Baker could
stack up and blame on Russell the better. “Your blood’s already on this scene.
There’s no way you’ll ever be able to cover this one up.”

“You attacked me.” He fought for every breath. With luck
he’d pass out from blood loss. He shook Estelita. “Who’s Carlos? Is someone
else coming?”

The woman shook her head. “My cousin. Ricardo’s brother. I
saw him leave. I thought he follow the lady.”

Baker’s glassy eyes narrowed. “Another lover, Miss Oswald?”

“No,” Estelita gasped. “He…he…” She
sagged into a faint, taking Baker off guard and the whip with her.

Valerie slung the knife in his direction. It sank in his
shoulder. He howled with rage and pain, giving her time to snag Dan’s phone and
race for the safety of her bedroom. She dialed as she ran.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“I live at—”

Baker tackled her to the floor. The fall took the breath out
of her and sent the phone skittering out of reach.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled. “I’m going to cut you to
shreds.”

“Like hell you will!” Russell shouted.

Valerie heard the telltale swish of a whip in motion. Baker
screamed and rolled away when it cut across his back, giving Valerie the
freedom she needed. She crawled out of the line of fire, tucked her knees into
her chest and watched Russell whip the man into submission.

She counted ten strikes before the wail of sirens drowned
out Baker’s cries. Russell landed five more lashes before officers ran into the
house, weapons drawn. He threw the weapon aside, vaulted Baker’s body and had
her in his arms in one giant step. Valerie tossed her arms around his neck.

“He broke into my home. Shot my bodyguard. Wrapped a whip
around my neck.” She pointed toward her throat.

“And is responsible for an attack on Beverly Renard, the
murder of Teri Trent and most likely Ricardo Estavarez.” Russell swooped her up
and carried her outside where Estelita wept in Casey’s arms and paramedics
raced forward with a gurney.

“Never let me go,” she told him.

“No problem there.”

* * * * *

Russell and Valerie were safely ensconced in Casey’s
guesthouse by the pool. The woman definitely had deep pockets. Private
practice, at least hers, paid well. She’d used that wealth to help people.
Valerie was grateful to call her friend. She hovered about at the hospital,
checking on Valerie’s welfare and Dan’s. Once they learned Dan would be all
right, Casey swooped Valerie and Russell under her wing and brought them to her
home.

Valerie had taken full advantage of the amenities there—a
long soak in a tub built for two, a lovely glass of voignier, a plush robe
despite the suitcase of clothing Casey had managed to extract from her house.

She glanced up when Russell walked in. “Phil and Dave gone?”

They’d been waiting at the house when Valerie and Russell
arrived with Casey. At the time, Valerie didn’t want the details of the case,
didn’t care why Baker did what he did only that he’d done it. She wanted alone
time and left Russell to deal with it. Now curiosity ate at her to know it all.

Russell sat on the end of the sofa, pulled her feet to his
lap and started to massage them. The man sure knew the way to a woman’s heart.
“Carlos Estavarez was arrested a couple of hours ago. His mother’s in all her
states.”

As far as Valerie was concerned the woman should have been
arrested along with him. By Estelita’s account, Mrs. Estavarez had sacrificed
Ricardo to save Carlos. Her feeling being that Ricardo’s goodness would
prevail. In the end she lost both sons. That switching Valerie had witnessed
wasn’t because of a joint. Carlos had raped another girl and his mother
wouldn’t have it.

“I hope to hell they’re charging Mrs. Estavarez too.”

“Indeed they are. Both are in custody.”

“And Baker?” she asked. “Why? Surely there’s something more
going on than him not being happy with the verdict.”

“There is.” Russell helped himself to her untouched second
glass of wine. “His step-daughter was one of the first victims. It destroyed
his marriage. When Ricardo was found not guilty he convinced Teri Trent to
pretend to be the next victim. Only Baker got too rough with her and she wound
up dead. He went to Bev to demand another girl. Bev refused. He freaked and
hurt her to keep her quiet. Seeing we were a couple set him off and he decided the
only justice was to punish those who ruined his coveted conviction in the first
place. He’s trying to cut a deal, but he can’t find an attorney who will
represent him.”

Thanks to Bev’s handiwork, she’d bet. When they’d stopped to
visit her, Bev was wheeling and dealing from her hospital bed.

“Naturally, he refused a public defender.” Russell took
another sip then set the glass down and returned to massaging her feet.

“Hmm…I wonder why,” she said with glee. After attacking one
of their own? If Baker agreed, Valerie’s sympathies went to the newbie.

“Doesn’t matter who he gets, Dave’s not going to agree to a
deal. Everyone’s dragging out all the bells and whistles to investigate this.”

“As long as we don’t have to be a part of it.” She groaned
with pleasure when he found an extra tight spot on her arch. “You know I love
when you rub my feet.”

“And other places too, right?”

She giggled. “Oh yeah.”

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