The Golden Chance (37 page)

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Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz

BOOK: The Golden Chance
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Just like Eleanor to think of the cops as her personal employees, Hilary thought fleetingly as she quietly gathered up her files.

Eleanor had finished speaking just as Hilary reached the door. She put down the receiver. “They're on their way,” she announced.

Hilary nodded. “That doesn't surprise me. It's rather amusing, isn't it? The Lightfoots and Castletons are rushing to Philadelphia's rescue.”

“Perhaps it's only simple justice, Hilary. She seems to have done her best recently to rush to C&L's rescue.”

“That's one way of looking at it.”

“Where will you go now, Hilary?” Eleanor asked. “What are you going to do?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters. You're family, Hilary.”

“No. Not any longer. I don't think I ever was. Not in any real sense. Not in the way Phila is going to be.”

Hilary let herself out the door and closed it very quietly behind her.

 

Phila could have wept and she knew she probably would have if she hadn't been too scared and too busy trying to think clearly. Spalding still had her pinned against his bulk. He started to drag her toward the bedroom. She marshaled her thoughts. Once before she had manipulated this man. She knew how to push his buttons. She must do it again.

“You'd better leave me alone and get out of here while you can. The authorities will be looking for you.”

“By the time they figure out where I've gone, I'll be out of here.”

“How did you find me?”

“I made Ruth keep track of you. She went and hired somebody to find you and tell her where you were all the time.”

Phila closed her eyes in silent anguish. She had never been safe, not even during the time she had spent in Port Claxton. Someone had been watching her. The realization was almost as horrifying as her present situation.

“What are you going to do, Elijah?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice calm.

“First, I have to punish you for the way you ruined everything. I'm going to hurt you for what you did. Hurt you bad, the way we used to hurt the women prisoners when I was workin' as a merc. And when you're crying and beggin' for mercy, I'm going to kill you.”

“You're a fool. What will you do? Where will you run? You'll have to hide for the rest of your life because everyone will know for certain this time that you're a murderer. The man I'm living with will hunt you to the ends of the earth. He's powerful man, Spalding. A lot more powerful than you are.”

“You're only his whore, not his wife. Why should be care about you when you're gone? I'll be safe.”

“Nothing will protect you from Nick Lightfoot. You'll be looking over your shoulder as long as you live.”

“Shut your mouth, bitch. I can take care of myself.”

“Not a chance, Spalding. I want you to know what you're risking by killing me. I put you in jail once before, remember? You'll be going back there because of me.”

“I said
shut your mouth
, you bitch. You don't know what you're talking about.” He dragged her as far as the bedroom door and then through it. He released her, took a step back and gave her such a violent slap with the back of his hand that Phila fell onto the bed.

Phila tasted blood from her cut lip. When she opened her eyes Spalding was towering over her with maniacal lust in every line of his face. She had seen that look on a man's face once before, the afternoon she had been attacked in the foster home. But this time there was no Crissie to save her. She watched in horror as Spalding began unzipping his dirty trousers.


No
.” She remembered the other time, remembered the lamp Crissie had used.

Without stopping to think she lashed out and caught the base of the bedside lamp. It flew from the table and crashed against Spalding's side.

“Bitch.” Spalding leaped back in an instinctive movement as glass shattered. He raised his gun hand to shield his face from the fragments of the exploding light bulb.

Phila rolled to the side of the bed, yanking open the bedside table drawer. Her fingers closed around the familiar grip of the .38.
Just aim it and pull the trigger
.

Lying half on and half off the bed, she jerked the gun out of the drawer, whipped it around toward Spalding whose hands were just falling away from his eyes. She fired.

The roar of the revolver deafened her. Spalding shrieked, staggered back against the wall and then went down with a thud. Blood welled from his shoulder, staining his shirt and trousers. His hand twitched but he did not move.

Phila's ears were still ringing a few seconds later when Nick, followed by a lot of familiar faces, came through the bedroom door.

“Holy shit,” said Tec Sherman.

Spalding groaned.

“He's alive,” Reed observed. “She must still be rushing her shots.”

“I'm working on the problem,” Nick said as he gathered a trembling Phila into his arms and held her close.

* * *

“I'm glad he didn't die. He deserved it for what he did to those children, but I'm glad I don't have to live with the knowledge that I killed someone.” Phila shuddered as she sat drinking brandy a long while later. The police interviews had been exhausting. The aftermath of a shooting, even one done in self-defense, was extensive, she had discovered.

But Castletons and Lightfoots had been everywhere, fixing tea for her, buffering her from the endless police questioning, dealing with the lab technicians, ushering the medical people in and out of the condominium. They had all hovered protectively over Phila during the long process, and Nick had never left her side.

“Might have been a goddamn sight simpler if you had punched his ticket for a one-way trip,” Reed said. “The way the bleeding-heart liberal laws are in the country these days, the bastard'll probably be able to turn around and sue you from jail when he recovers.”

“We can handle any lawsuit Spalding throws at us,” Nick said as he poured another shot of brandy into Phila's glass. “After all, we can afford better lawyers than Spalding will ever be able to buy. And you know how it works, the one with the most expensive lawyer wins.”

“Very reassuring.” Phila smiled weakly as she looked around at the circle of faces in Nick's living room. Everyone was there except Hilary. Even Eleanor had grabbed a cab after making her phone call to the police.

Tec Sherman smiled contentedly. “Shot was a little wide on account of you rushed it, but under the circumstances you did damn good, ma'am. The creep'll live, but you made your mark, that's for dang sure.”

“How are you feeling?” Victoria asked as she handed out cups and saucers. “Heart still pounding?”

“I think it's slowly returning to normal, thanks to all of you. I honestly don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here. I could hardly think straight when the police arrived.”

“The detective told me privately that the whole case looked real clean. For starters, Spalding is an escaped prisoner. The deck is stacked against him from the get-go,” Reed said. “Shooting him was a clear case of self-defense.”

“Speaking of which,” Phila said softly, “I owe you gentlemen my thanks. I would not have known how to defend myself if you all hadn't nagged me into learning how to shoot that horrid gun.”

“Always nice to be appreciated,” Nick murmured. “Drink your brandy, Phila. It will help you sleep.”

“I doubt it. I'm not going to sleep a wink tonight.”

“You will,” he promised.

But contrary to Nick's prediction, Phila was still lying wide awake at one o'clock in the morning. A variety of emotions were clamoring for attention in her mind. Her mood seemed to be very fragile. She ricocheted between peaks and valleys. For a while a sense of euphoric relief would prevail; a moment later she would find herself on the verge of tears.

“Take it easy, honey. It's going to be all right. You'll be fine after you've had some sleep. It's just nerves.” Nick's voice was deep and soothing. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her carefully against him. “You're going to be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“Is it any worse this time than it was last time?”

She froze. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the last time you had to deal with Spalding on your own.”

“Oh.”

His fingers worked slowly through her hair in a gentling movement. “When are you going to trust me enough to tell me the full story about what happened that time, Phila?”

“I did tell you the full story. You even checked up on it yourself. I saw that copy of the newspaper article you got hold of while you were here in Seattle. Besides, why should I want to talk about the trial? It's the shooting that's upset me.” Phila couldn't seem to marshal her thoughts in a straight line the way she always had to when she discussed the Spalding trial.

“Maybe you're trying to keep too much inside. You don't have to bottle it all up, you know. Not any more. You're not alone now. You've got me. I love you, Phila.”

“I love you, too, Nick.”

“So tell me the truth and get it out of your system.”

She held herself very still in his arms. “It's not fair to put the burden on anyone else.”

“It won't be a burden for me. I've got no problem handling a few perjuries committed in the name of putting away a guy like Spalding. I'm no bleeding-heart liberal, remember? I'm a Lightfoot.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Know what? That there was more to that whole incident with Spalding than you had told me?” He shrugged. “Just had a hunch. It had something to do with the drug charges against him, didn't it?”

Phila nodded her head against his chest. “I planted the heroin on him during the struggle in the restaurant parking lot. I set him up for that arrest, Nick. I arranged everything. I couldn't think of anything else to do. He'd already killed one child. I was so afraid he would kill another. He was hurting all of them. Raping them. I had to stop him.”

“I know.”

The words rushed out of her in a torrent now. “I knew the cops took their morning coffee break every day at that restaurant. In a small town like Holloway, you get to know the routine. There were always a couple of patrol cars parked in front of the restaurant at ten-fifteen in the morning. People used to joke that if they ever decided to pull a bank robbery, they'd be sure to do it around ten-fifteen.”

“So you knew the cops' schedule and timed everything accordingly?”

“I knew what time they would be pulling in, and I knew I could make Spalding explode. It was easy enough to goad him into a violent response. But I didn't think a simple assault charge would do the job. I needed a felony count. Something that would get him put in jail.”

“So that he wouldn't be eligible to go on running a foster home?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you get the heroin?” Nick asked.

“Good grief, Nick. You know as well as I do that it's easy enough to buy drugs these days. As a social worker I had all kinds of contacts and information, including information about people who could get me the heroin. When it was over, all I had to do was let the law take its natural course. All I had to do was lie on the stand and make damn sure I stuck with that lie. The fact that Spalding had been a mercenary who had worked in Southeast Asia and South America was in my favor.”

“The jury was willing to believe he might have started using drugs in those places and had been continuing to use them here in the States,” Nick concluded for her.

“Yes.” Phila fell silent, aware that she was waiting for his response.

“Damn it to hell, Phila.”

She tensed. “I'm sorry, Nick. It was a terrible thing to do, but I couldn't think of anything else. I had to stop him. I had to get the kids away from him.”


Sorry
. For God's sake, don't apologize. The only thing to be sorry about is that we don't have a foolproof way to offer kids protection from creeps like Elijah Spalding. You should never have been forced into a situation where you had to take such an incredible risk to save those children.”

She let out the breath she had been holding. “I didn't want to tell anyone, ever. I figured I had made the decision to do it in the first place and I would have to live with what I had done. I couldn't ask anyone else to help bear the burden of the truth.”

“But you quit your job.”

“I had to quit. I knew I couldn't go on working as a caseworker. This time I hadn't just bent a few rules. I'd gone past all the boundaries. Taken the law into my own hands. I was no longer a professional, I was a vigilante.”

“You don't feel guilty, do you? Because you sure as hell shouldn't.”

“No. It isn't guilt I feel. I'd do it again, if I had to. But it was hard, Nick. Hard to do. Hard to live with afterward. Just like the shooting today.”

“Keep in mind that you're not living with it alone any longer.” He kissed her, his eyes gleaming in the shadows. “I love you.”

“What really made you think there was more to the story than I had told you?”

“There seemed to be a lot of convenient coincidences in the account. Coincidences that sounded like a lot of luck or some very clever planning. I knew how badly you had wanted to shut down the Spalding foster home. I also knew you well enough to know you'd do whatever you had to do if you thought it was right. Then there was that bit about Ruth Spalding adamantly claiming her husband had to be innocent of the dope charges. She was so convinced you'd lied. It all added up to a question mark.”

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