In the Clearing (Tracy Crosswhite #3)(98)

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

Lionel Devoe stepped in holding Eric’s .45, the barrel leveled at Tracy.

Tracy reached for her Glock, but even she wasn’t that fast.

“I wouldn’t,” Devoe said.

Tracy froze, one hand on the butt of her gun, her mind working quickly to assess the gravity of the situation.

The two dogs circled Devoe as he stepped farther into the room. Blue growled and snarled. Tank kept barking.

Tracy considered everything in the room she might be able to use for cover, as well as the exit. Could she get there? Not likely.

“What are you doing, Lionel?” Eric said.

“Slowly remove your hand, Detective.” Devoe was dressed in full uniform and appeared calm and calculating; he’d thought this through.

Tracy removed her hand from the butt of her gun. She kept her focus on Devoe, looking for any opening, a moment when he became distracted and shifted his gaze. All she needed was a second or two to draw and fire. Silently, she urged the dogs to do something heroic—bite his leg, lunge at him, anything.

“Lionel,” Eric said, more forcefully. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Devoe kept his gaze on Tracy. “Shut up, Eric. And shut up those dogs, or I swear to God I’ll shoot them both. Raise both your hands very slowly, Detective.”

“This is crazy, Lionel,” Eric said.

“I said, ‘Shut up.’”

Tracy lifted her hands to shoulder height. Devoe had done her a favor. In shooting competitions she’d always been faster using her opposite hand, earning her the nickname Crossdraw. Now with both hands raised, it would take one quick motion.

Eric continued to talk. “It’s over, Lionel. Put down the damn gun.”

Devoe walked cautiously to where Tracy stood, gun still leveled at her chest. The dogs followed at a safe distance, still barking. “Turn around.”

“Lionel, put the damn gun down. The sheriff already knows.”

“I know,” Devoe said. “I monitored their frequency. The sheriff had backup ready. But she isn’t here. They’re arresting your father.” Devoe spoke to Tracy. “I said, ‘Turn around.’”

Tracy turned. Devoe stepped behind her. Cautiously, he reached out and removed her Glock, then quickly retreated. Tracy had just lost her best chance. She needed to reassess. Find a different option.

“Lionel, this is crazy,” Eric said.

Devoe glanced briefly at Reynolds, looking more confident now that Tracy was unarmed. “Is it? Is it really, Eric?”

“Put the gun down, Lionel. I’ve already told her everything. She knows everything. So does the sheriff.”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Eric. You shouldn’t have said anything. We had a deal. Everyone remains silent.” Devoe stepped back and set the Glock on the poker table. “Can you shut the damn dogs up?”

“It’s what dogs do,” Eric said. “It’s instinct.”

“You shouldn’t have broken the deal, not without talking to me and to Hastey.”

“She knew, Lionel. She already knew.”

“Maybe, but she had no way of proving any of it. You should have kept quiet. You should have kept your mouth shut. Goddamn it, shut those dogs up.”

“It’s been forty years, Lionel. What good has keeping quiet done any of us?”

“It doesn’t matter. You should have checked with us. You should have checked with Hastey. That was the deal. But I guess we both knew it was going to come down to a situation like this, didn’t we?”

“A situation like what?”

“Either you or Hastey deciding to do something stupid like this. And me having to stop you.”

“She’s a homicide detective, Lionel. Are you going to kill a homicide detective? How long do you think it would be before they hunted you down?”

Devoe smiled. “I’m not going to kill anyone, Eric.”

“He has your gun,” Tracy said to Eric, continuing to watch Devoe, waiting for any opportunity, assessing the distance between her and the poker table and how quickly she could get to the gun. Not quick enough. “He shoots me with your gun, and shoots you with mine. Makes it look like we had it out.”

Devoe smiled. “See, Eric, that’s why she’s a detective. But that isn’t quite accurate. I don’t see you both getting a shot off. I see Eric surprising you. The way I see it, the detective here brought you back to your house after exposing you and your father. She was giving you the chance to take care of things before she brought you in. But you had other plans. You had your gun out. You always had your gun out at night. I can testify to that. So will Hastey. You lured her back here, and you surprised her. You weren’t going to prison, not a guy like you. So you shot her. Then you shot yourself.” Devoe shrugged. “Since we are technically within the Stoneridge city limits, I’ll have jurisdiction over the investigation. And when I close the case, you can be damn sure I’ll destroy that file.”

“You don’t need to do this, Lionel,” Reynolds said. “I’ve already taken the blame. I’ve told her Hastey didn’t have anything to do with it and neither did you.”

“That’s very generous of you, Eric, and I wish we could turn the clock back forty years and make it true, but that wasn’t the case then, and it isn’t the case now. I fixed the car for your dad. If she has Buzz Almond’s file, she knows that. She also knows I removed the report with the photographs Buzz took of your car. I’m not going to prison for you or for your father, and I’m not letting Hastey go to prison for you either.” Devoe looked to Tracy. “I told you, Detective, you should have left this one alone. What was done was done. Nobody meant for it to happen. It was an accident. You should have just let it be.”