Overkill(90)

“His daughter informed me of it this morning,” Clarke said. “It was shocking news. Even more disturbing is that in Up’s suicide note—”

“Up?” Melinda said. “Uncle Up, the lawyer?”

“Yes. How do you know him?”

She wetted her lips. “I know about him from Cal. On your behalf, he bribed Cal and Theo to give false testimony at Eban’s trial.”

Clarke didn’t admit it aloud, but he looked resigned over their knowing and continued what he’d been saying before Melinda’s interruption. “In his note, Up held Eban largely responsible for the unbearable guilt that had driven him to take his life.” He paused and breathed deeply. “He closed the note with a warning for Ms. Lennon.”

Bing reacted with a start. “What?”

“I warned her, too,” Melinda said. “And I didn’t even know about this suicide note.”

“When was this?” Clarke asked.

Melinda told him about Kate and Zach’s visit. “I told them I was afraid that Eban would make a preemptive strike.”

Sid Clarke had begun to look a little green around the gills. “This is troubling. Eban’s clever. He’s conniving. He cooked up this Belize trip to throw us off track. I’m afraid to surmise why he went to all that bother.”

Bing fisted a handful of Clarke’s expensive lapel. “You’re afraid to surmise that your psycho son is going after Kate and Zach?”

“I don’t want to hazard a—”

“Fuck you.” Bing let go of Clarke’s lapel, reached past him, and snatched his jacket off the hall tree, then poked his index finger at the tip of Clarke’s aristocratic nose. “If he harms either of them, you won’t have clever, conniving Eban to worry about anymore because he’ll be dead. I’ll kill the little shit myself.”

Melinda grabbed his arm. “Bing, wait! Cal’s got the pistol, remember.”

“Pistol?” Clarke said.

Ignoring him, Melinda wailed, “Bing, Cal will do whatever Eban tells him to.”

“I’m bettin’ he won’t, honey,” Bing said. “I’m bettin’ he won’t. You’re welcome to come along.”

She grabbed her handbag, pushed past Sid Clarke, and ran after Bing.





Chapter 37





The gunfire was still reverberating off the high ceiling of Zach’s living room when he disregarded Eban’s warning and lunged from his chair toward the table where Cal’s pistol lay. Another shot halted him, inertia rocking him forward as he regained his balance.

“You’re just asking for it, aren’t you, Bridger?” Eban said. “Touch that gun, and your new girlfriend dies. Or you can sit the fuck down!”

Zach raised his hands and began backing toward the seat beside Kate that he’d just left.

“No. Over there.” Eban motioned with the braced pistol toward a tall-backed armchair, one of a matching pair that sat on either side of the wide stone chimney.

Zach calculated the distance between the chair and Kate. No. He’d be too far away from her. He stayed where he was.

Eban snickered. “Oh, I see your dilemma. How about I just solve it for you?” He aimed the pistol at Kate.

“I’m going!” Zach backed over to the specified chair and sat.

Kate had cupped both hands over her mouth in horror as she’d witnessed Theo’s execution. She lowered her hands now and curled her fingers over the edge of the sofa cushion as though holding onto it for dear life.

Her eyes met Zach’s, communicating to him that she understood the peril they were in, that she was mindful of Eban’s derangement and their need to go along with him for as long as possible until an opportunity to escape presented itself. If ever.

Eban came farther into the room. When he reached the end table, he used his left hand to heave up the edge of it until it fell over. The ceramic lamp crashed. The glass shattered in the frame holding the picture of Zach and his parents. The pistol that Cal had brought landed beyond the edge of the rug and went sliding across the hardwood floor, but in the opposite direction of Zach’s chair. He couldn’t hope to reach it before Eban shot him, which would leave Kate at this maniac’s mercy.

Eban walked over to the pistol on the floor and nudged it with the toe of his shoe, chuckling with derision. “Mine’s a whole lot bigger than yours, Bridger.”

Zach wasn’t bothered by the phallic innuendo, but the comparison of the two firearms was worrisome. Zach was no expert, but he recognized the difference between a small, five-shot revolver like Cal’s, and Eban’s fully automatic .45. The brace was secured to his forearm by sturdy straps, which made the weapon an extension of his hand. He could kill all of them in a blink.

“You’re supposed to be in Belize.” That from Cal, who was staring at Theo’s unmoving body.

“Well, hello, Cal,” Eban said. “I thought you’d nodded off. Good of you to rejoin us.”

Eban’s cavalier tone jolted the other man. He jerked his head around toward Eban. No longer in a stupor of disbelief, his eyes blazed hatred and contempt.

“Surprised to see me?” Eban laughed and gave an exaggerated wink. “I thought you and Theo had agreed a little too quickly to the getaway idea. I had an inkling that you might conspire to turn on me, try to strike a deal with the state prosecutor over there.” He pointed the pistol at Kate again, and Zach’s gut clenched.