Page 85 of Lay Down the Law

He made a sound of annoyance. “How does it feel to be so afraid? To know you’re going to die? Those are all the things my son felt when you put a bullet in his chest.”

“I warned your son. He shot me first.”

“Liar.”

“Your son didn’t give me a choice.”

DiCarlo stared at her as if she were a piece of cheap furniture. “You never knew that Danny Perrine was expecting my people in the warehouse that night, did you?”

Shock speared through her fear, tangling her thoughts. “You’re lying—”

“He was our target that night, Officer McNeal. Not you. He’d asked for more money. It always annoys me when cops want more than they’re worth. He got his just rewards, didn’t he?”

Her brain couldn’t digest the information. After six months of guilt, six months of blaming herself, to learn her partner had been dealing with the devil all along was too much to absorb. The sense of betrayal was bitter and acute.

“In any case, I thought you should know Officer Perrine was on the take. He was dirty and greedy. Your knowing that makes this moment all the sweeter for me.” DiCarlo pulled the hammer back with his thumb. “This is for my son.”

Erin sat back on her heels, her hands locked behind her, her fingers fumbling at the bulge of the pistol strapped to her ankle. Sweat pooled at the back of her neck. She closed her eyes against the terror exploding inside her, and concentrated on working the minirevolver from its holster through the impediment of her jeans. In the back of her mind, she wondered how many more seconds of life she had left. How many more breaths—

“Drop the gun, DiCarlo!”

Erin’s world tilted at the sound of Nick’s voice. Hope burst through the choking cloak of despair. She looked up to see him rush through the entrance, his pistol level on DiCarlo. Simultaneously, the mafioso spun. Terror paralyzed her for an instant. Then a rush of adrenaline sent her bound hands fighting the revolver from its holster. She jerked up the hem of her jeans, felt the cold steel beneath her fingers.

Two gunshots rang out in quick succession. DiCarlo stumbled back and went down. Out of the corner of her eye, Erin saw Nick go to his knees.

“Nick!” Her heart stopped. “No! Nick!”

A clap of thunder drowned out her scream. Ten feet away, DiCarlo rolled onto his side and leveled the pistol on her. The gun exploded.

A bullet whizzed past her ear. Erin fumbled with the .22. Her palm found the grip, her fingers the trigger. Leaning forward, she turned and fired blindly behind her back, four shots. Over her shoulder, she saw DiCarlo sink to the ground.

The pistol tumbled from her hand.

“Nick! Nick!”

Before she could scramble to her feet, he was at her side. He dropped to his knees in front of her, drawing her against him. Relief swept through her with such force that she couldn’t speak.

“Holy Toledo, McNeal, that was some pretty fancy shooting.”

The sound of his voice completely undid her. Erin couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t stop shaking. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn’t even try to stop them. The emotions banging through her were too powerful, and not even her iron will was strong enough to maintain a semblance of control.

“Easy does it, that was a joke—”

“DiCarlo…is he—”

Nick nodded. “Don’t look, honey. He’s dead.”

Only then did Erin notice the blood on Nick’s shoulder. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m all right.” New concern gentled his voice. “He just winged me.”

“Stephanie,” she choked out. “Is she okay? She was so scared. They took her to—”

“I took her into the cornfield to hide. She’s fine.”

“What about the other men? There were three—”

“One is cuffed to the fence, the other two to the undercarriage of DiCarlo’s limo. The highway patrol will get the guy in the chopper.” Facing her, Nick wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly for a moment. “You’re shaking. Easy, honey. Let me untie you.” Reaching around her, he gently untwisted the wire that so brutally bound her wrists. “Your wrists are cut,” he said with a grimace.