Love You More (Tessa Leoni, #1)(97)

Instead, his voice cold, totally devoid of emotion on the other end of the phone: “You don’t take instruction too well, do you, Tessa? When these boys tell you to shut up, you shut up. Now stop trying to get us all killed, and do what they told you to do.”

Turned out, Shane already knew Brian was dead. He’d received some instructions of his own over the matter, and now he spelled it all out for me: Brian was a wife beater. In the heat of the moment, he’d gone too far and I’d discharged my weapon in self-defense. No evidence of physical assault? Don’t worry, Shane would assist with that. I babbled that I’d been granted twenty-four hours to prepare for Sophie’s return. Fine, he’d said curtly. He’d be over first thing in the morning. A minor pummeling, then we’d contact the authorities together, Shane by my side every step of the way. Shane, keeping watch and reporting back.

Of course, I’d realized then. Shane wasn’t just Brian’s friend, he was his partner in crime. And now he had to protect his own hide at any cost. Even if that involved sacrificing Brian, me, and Sophie.

I was screwed and my daughter’s life hung in the balance. It’s amazing how clear-eyed you can suddenly become when your child needs you. How covering your husband’s dead body with snow makes all the sense in the world. As well as fetching Duke’s corpse from underneath the back deck, where Brian had stored the body while waiting for the spring thaw. And looking up bombs on the Internet …

I let go of my denial. I embraced the chaos. And I learned that I was a much more ruthless person than I’d ever believed.

“I know about the money,” I told Shane now. Despite my best intentions for calm, I could feel my rage bubble up again. I remembered the first eye-shattering impact of Shane’s fist connecting with my face. The way he’d towered above me as I went down on the bloody kitchen floor. The endless minute, when I’d realized he could kill me, and then there would be no one to save Sophie. I’d cried. I’d begged. That’s what my “friend” had done to me.

Now Shane’s gaze flickered to mine, his eyes rounding in surprise.

“Did you think I’d never connect the dots?” I said. “Why did you demand this whole farce that I claim to have killed my own husband? Because you and your partners wanted me out of the way. You wanted to destroy my credibility, then frame me for the theft. Your mobster friends aren’t interested in shaking me down for money. You’re using me to cover your tracks, letting me take the fall for all the money you stole from the troopers’ union. You were gonna blame me for everything. Everything!

He didn’t say a word.

“You goddamn bastard!” I exploded. “If I went to prison, what would happen to Sophie? You signed her death warrant, you prick. You basically killed my daughter!”

Shane blanched. “I didn’t … I wouldn’t. It never would’ve gone that far!”

“That far? You stole from the troopers’ union. You screwed your friends, your career, and your family. That wasn’t letting things go too far?”

“It was Brian’s idea,” Shane said automatically. “He needed the money. He’d lost a little too much … They’d kill him, he said. I was just trying to help. Honest, Tessa. You know how Brian can be. I was just trying to help.”

In response, I grabbed his duty belt with my left hand, unclipped the Taser, and held it up.

“One more lie, and you’re gonna dance. Do you understand me, Shane? Stop lying!”

He swallowed, tongue darting out nervously to lick the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t … Ah Christ,” he blurted out suddenly. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I don’t know how it came to this. At first, I’d go with Brian to Foxwoods to keep him under control. Which meant, of course, that sometimes I’d play, too. Then, coupla of times, I won. I mean, I won. Five grand, just like that. Bought Tina a new ring. She cried. And it felt … great. Wonderful. Like I was Superman. So, of course, I had to play again, except we didn’t always win. So then you play more because now you’re due. It’s your turn. One good hand, that’s all you need, one good hand.

“That’s what we told ourselves, these past few weeks. One solid afternoon at the tables and it would all turn around. We’d be okay. Couple of hours even. Just the right coupla hours and we would’ve been fine.”

“You embezzled money from the troopers’ union. You sold your soul to mobsters.”

Shane looked at me. “Gotta have money to make money,” he said simply, as if this were the most logical explanation in the world.

Maybe to a gambler, it was.

“Who did you borrow the money from? Who shot Brian? Who took my daughter?”

Shrug.

“Fuck you, Shane! They have my little girl. You will talk or I will blow off your head!”

“They’ll kill me anyway!” he fired back, eyes finally blazing to life. “You don’t mess with these guys. They already sent me pictures—Tina in the grocery store, Tina going to yoga, Tina picking up the boys. I’m sorry about Brian. I’m sorry about Sophie. But I gotta protect my own family. I might be a f*ckup, but I’m not a total failure.”

“Shane,” I said crisply. “You’re not getting it yet. I’m going to kill you. Then I’m going to pin the word ‘snitch’ to your chest. I give Tina and the boys about forty-eight hours to live beyond that. Probably less.”