The Old Witcheroo (22 page)

Gripping my upper arm, he swung me around to face him, his jaw tight. “I think I can figure something out. I have up ’til now, haven’t I?”

I licked my dry lips and said, “It was you who took a shot at me last night, wasn’t it?”

“Yeeeah. I figured you’d eventually figure out I was the one who killed Sophia, and I don’t like leaving a trail behind me when I do a hit. Even if there’s the slightest chance I’m wrong, I clean up my messes. Collateral damage and all. You understand, right? It’s not personal. Sorry I hit your dog.”

Yanking my arm hard, he pulled me closer, and I tried not to struggle but distract. “You tricked her, didn’t you? You tricked Sophia into going somewhere with you and she went because she trusted you!”

“Like a lamb to slaughter. All it took was telling her Nelson was hurt. Now, in the trunk you go,” he ordered, so cold, so completely removed, I had to wonder how he’d ever passed a psych test.

“
Wait!
” I hissed, hoping against hope when I needed my powers the most, they’d appear. C’mon, magic fingers—just a sizzle will do; one little spark and
whammo
.

“I don’t have time to argue with you, Miss Cartwright. You know way too much, and what you don’t know, like I said, I’m guessing you’ll figure out. Your nose is in everything all the time and I have to tell you, it’s very frustrating. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ happens to be true in your case. But now, the time has come to pay the piper.”

Popping the trunk of the very silver sedan I was heading into the police station to show a picture of to the police, he pointed, jamming the gun into my ribs. “You can get in yourself, or I can put you in there. Choice is yours.”

My eyes darted around the parking lot, but it was as quiet as a church. “Of course you can. You’re big and strong, aren’t you? I have at least twenty pounds on Sophia, but you somehow managed to carry
her
down my stairs and stage her in my boat to make it look like Officer Nelson had killed her because she’d turned his proposal down.”

But he was cool as a cucumber facial, his eyes glittering like ice chips. I’m guessing that’s because he’d done this before and he wasn’t at all nervous about taking a life—especially if there was big money in the mix, which I assumed was the case with Sophia.

“Last chance, Miss Cartwright.”

“Wow, still with the formalities,
Detective Montgomery
? And to think I thought you were the good cop. Some amateur sleuth I am, right?”

Detective Montgomery grinned at me, quite suddenly in fact, a devilish glint to his eyes. “You know, I really liked that. It was pretty funny. Made Sean Moore crazy, which made it funnier, but what do you expect from a lughead like him? He’s an unbelievable moron. Thankfully, I won’t have to suffer that fool any longer. I’m just taking care of business, and then I’m outta this Podunk town, outta this damn mess you’ve made of everything.”

He began lifting me with just one arm, and when I’d called him strong, I don’t know that I’d realized
how
strong. So I stalled some more by stiffening up, trying to remember what Win had taught me about car trunks and latches and all sorts of escape maneuvers.

“Out? Where are you going?” I asked, fighting to keep the hysteria out of my voice, praying someone would make an appearance. Where the heck was all the Eb Falls law enforcement, for Pete’s sake?

I think Detective Simone was done playing Good Cop, and his patience with me had run its course, because he wasn’t answering any more of my questions.

“In you go,” he said without even a grunt as he hauled me upward by my waist and dumped me into the trunk. Looking down at me as I groaned in pain, he winked. “I think you were being too kind to yourself when you said you only had twenty pounds on Sophia. Feels more like thirty-five.”

I gasped. I don’t know why. I’m not sure why his insult was suddenly so demeaning when my life was at stake and my weight was surely inconsequential, but I gasped in outrage.

“Did you just call me fat? You big stupid jerk!” I shouted up at him, making him look around the parking lot as my voice carried.

And that was my opportunity—which I took with great pleasure and strange calm. Thirty-five pounds my eye.

The moment Officer Hard-Body looked upward, I made a fist and went right for his tender bits. And I do mean I went for them—hard. I rammed my fist into his flesh and jerked it upward to really send my message home.

The second he buckled forward was the second I braced myself with the heel of my hand, using the other to latch onto the rim of the trunk and kick him square in the forehead. His howl of pain brought me great satisfaction as I struggled to get out of the trunk.

My heart crashed against my ribs and my legs wobbled, but I rolled out of that trunk like I’d just rolled off the turnip truck, falling to the ground on my shoulder and somehow managing to get to my knees before Officer Montgomery’s hand gripped my ankle and tripped me.

I don’t know where the gun was at this point. I only know I hit that pavement hard, literally scraping my chin on it and almost biting my tongue clear in half. I clawed at the pavement, trying to get any kind of foothold, my nails ripping as they dug into the hard surface, even now still hot from the heat of the day.

My screech of pain and frustration must’ve awakened Win because he was there suddenly, in full force.

“Stevie! Roll and twist! Twist your body around, wrap your free ankle around his thick head and give him a good hard crack on the back of his noggin with the heel of your boot! You’ve got to get inside the police station!”

“
Malutka
, he still has the gun!” Arkady shouted.

I did exactly as Win said, rolling over as quickly as the pavement would allow for all its grabbing at my clothing, and wrapped my ankle around Officer Montgomery’s neck before bringing my foot up and crashing down on his head. I heard something skitter across the parking lot, but couldn’t see what it was due to the fact that it was getting darker by the second.

His face bounced, cracking the pavement with a sick thud and startling me, but Win was right back in my ear again. “Dove, run! Grab the gun and run!”

“To your left, my petal! It is to your left!” Arkady yelped.

My eyes swerved wildly to the left, seeing the gun gleaming just by the curb on the way into the station, but I wasn’t quick enough, my hands were too clammy with sweat and I lost my grip, sending the gun flying right toward Detective Montgomery.

“Forget the gun, Dove, run! Get inside where it’s safe!” Win hollered as I fumbled and twisted my ankle, but I aimed for the front door of the police station, screaming the entire way.

“He’s up, pretty rosebud, and he has the gun, you must run!”

“Zigzag, Stevie! Zigzag!” Win belted out.

“Hellllppp!” I bellowed, finally reaching the doors of the station just as Detective Montgomery managed to fire off a shot at me, breaking the glass. I fell through the opening without bracing myself at all, scuttling over the glass, grateful I’d decided to wear my work boots today.

But Detective Montgomery’s voice boomed in my ears when he yelled, “Stop! Police!”

His voice filled me with terror, but one thought terrified me even more—Montgomery wasn’t seriously going to try to play like he was chasing after me because I’d committed some crime, was he?

And then a second thought dawned—that’s exactly what he’d do. He’d make up some crazy story about me, giving him a perfectly justifiable reason to kill me, and no one would be the wiser because he was a cop.

“Don’t look back! Keep running toward the front desk!” Win demanded. “Go, Stevie, go!”

I burst into the entryway, running the long length of it until I reached the desk, to find only Sandwich with Officer Baby-Face, but the rest of the department looked like it was deserted. Dang it all, where was Bad Cop when you needed him?

But the precinct was long versus wide, with plenty of rooms and desks to hide behind. Again, I wondered where was everyone?

“Help! Sandwich!”

I screamed just as another shot was fired and Detective Montgomery once again yelled, “Stop! Police!”

I dove over the counter—don’t ask how, don’t ask what made me instinctually go for broke, it just seemed like the right thing to do. The only problem was, I took Sandwich with me just as he was preparing to draw his gun, knocking him to the ground and sending him sailing into the leg of the hard metal desk behind him. His skull hit it with a sharp crack that echoed around the room before his eyes slid closed and he went lifeless.

That left Officer Baby-Face and me—and from the look of shock on his face and his lack of reaction, he’d frozen. Ooo boy. I was in trouble.

I scrambled to my haunches, my chin dripping blood, my ankle aching so much it felt as though it had been held over a bonfire.

“He’s coming, Dove! Throw something toward the back of the precinct to buy time, Stevie!”

I whipped around, trying to stay as low as possible, reaching up on the desk to find what I was pretty sure was a stapler. I lobbed it over my head, the sound resonating behind me when it hit another metal desk.

“Get under the desk,
malutka
! Hurry, take the boy with you!”

“I said stop, Miss Cartwright!” Detective Montgomery yelled, just as I grabbed at Officer Baby-Face’s leg and tugged him down to the floor, pulling him in a crab-like walk until we were around a very small corner.

My voice trembled as I looked into his panicked eyes, my sweaty hands gripping his arm. “Detective Montgomery killed Sophia Fleming. You have to believe me! Get your gun and prepare to defend us. When he comes around that corner, you need to take him out or he’s going to kill me!”

I’m not sure if Detective Montgomery saw Officer Baby-Face—a.k.a Officer McNamara—or if he knew he and Sandwich were the only two in the station or not. I only know the kid was terrified, and it showed on his face and in his jerky gestures as he reached for his gun. When he went for his weapon, holstered at his side, he fumbled, dropping it on the floor, where it went skidding under a desk in the maze of steel.

He looked at me, wide-eyed and terrified, and I looked at him with likely the same expression. If he couldn’t save me, we were toast.

As Detective Montgomery crashed his way through the waist-high doors that led to the back of the precinct, calling my name, I was at a loss for what to do. Where did they keep the guns? Could I shoot a gun? Maybe that was something Win and I should practice sometime soon—if I lived, that is.

“Where are you, Miss Cartwright?” he called, almost playfully. “I like hide and seek as much as the next person, but I have things to do tonight! Ollie-ollie-oxen-free!”

I squeezed into the corner as tightly as I could, keeping Officer McNamara close, praying Detective Montgomery couldn’t hear our ragged breathing.

“Stevie! Listen carefully, grab Baby-Face by the hand and hold tight. Now see that office chair about five feet diagonally to you?”

I looked to the chair and nodded. It seemed so close, but I knew it was about as far as Bangladesh if I messed this up.

“See the wheels on it? How it swivels?” Win asked. “Give it a shove. Shove it for all you’re worth right at him, distract him, then run for the gun, it’s right under that desk. See it?”

As Officer Montgomery continued to thrash his way through the station, I knew he’d be coming around the row of desks at any second.

“No,
malutka
! Do not listen to Zero! You need to make a sharp right back around the corner and dive under the desk until he turns his back, and then get that gun!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bagrov—that’s too risky and probably why
you
ended up dead in the first place! She needs to disable him first!”

“A gun disables, no, Zero? Always thinking you know better, but you are just as dead as me!”

I waited until Detective Montgomery banged menacingly on a desk before I whisper-yelled, “Knock it off, you two!”

Officer McNamara looked at me as though I’d lost the last nut keeping all my bolts in place, but the moment I saw Officer Montgomery’s feet, I sort of followed both of my bickering spies’ instructions. I launched myself at the chair, grabbing it by the legs and pulled myself up so quickly, I got a head rush.

Instead of sending it skittering across the floor, I picked it up and launched it at Detective Montgomery’s dark head (thank you, Tae Bo) with a rebel yell.

He howled when the chair made contact with his forehead, splitting it open and knocking him to the ground.

“Good eye, Dove!
Now
get that gun!”

“Go right, petal! It is under desk straight ahead. Go right!”

“Dive, Stevie, dive! Stay behind the desk. Use it as your shield!”

I dove just as Detective Montgomery recovered, but that wasn’t before I saw poor Officer McNamara making an attempt to run at Montgomery’s knees.

Without qualm, without so much as a bead of sweat, Detective Montgomery shot him, the bullet hitting him in his left shoulder, causing a patch of dark blood to bloom as he fell to the ground.

“Get the gun, Stevie!”

Someone was clearly on my side tonight as I stretched to reach the gun, my arm aching. I connected with the cool finish of it and gripped the handle. I bit off my cry of victory, but I clung to that gun that I had no idea how to use like it was the last Betsey Johnson purse on the seventy-five-percent-off rack.

Let’s just see who was shooting whom now, eh?

As Detective Montgomery’s footsteps grew closer, I was ready. I rolled to the opposite side of the desk, wincing when I rolled on the shoulder I’d hurt back in the parking lot.

I had to get behind him in order to get any leverage. Just as he rounded the corner of the group of desks, I popped up. “Do not move, Detective Simone!” I barked the order, pointing the gun at his broad back with a hand that shook like a leaf.

“Stevie, no!” Win shouted.

“
Malutka
, stop!” Arkady bellowed in my ear.

But I had a
gun
. Why would I stop? Silly spies. Don’t they know I get how this works now?

In that moment, in that very crucial moment when Detective Montgomery swung around and I totally expected him to have a look of crushed surprise on his face, he didn’t look very surprised at all.