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Her forefinger settled on the trigger. “So tell me, Detective, which strikes the floor first—your dead daughter or your gun?”
Merry let out a small whimper, and tears trickled down her cheeks. “Dad…’’ Futilely, she struggled against the ropes that bound her wrists.
“It’s okay, baby,” Monty replied in a soothing tone. “Stay still.” He looked at Anne. “You win.” He raised his arm, pointing at his jacket. “I’m reaching for my gun.”
“Slowly, Detective,” Anne advised. “No matter how good your reflexes are, they won’t beat point-blank range.” She watched while Monty extracted his pistol and held it out for inspection. “Good. Now slide it toward me.”
Monty bent down, placed the gun on the floor, and kicked it over.
“Excellent.” She gestured at an empty chair. “Have a seat. Right next to your ex-wife.”
“Grandmother, what are you doing?” James croaked out as Monty complied.
“Cleaning up after you.” Anne picked up the gun and gave James a brittle smile. “On my own, this time. There have been enough mistakes. Mistakes that cost me my son.” Her smile faded, her lips thinning into a grim line. “Stupid illegals. They killed the wrong person. And now they brought me the wrong Montgomery.” She glanced at Merry, then turned to stare at Sally, genuine hate in her eyes. “It’s all because of you. Bad enough that you turned Frederick’s head when you’re totally unsuitable. But then you inserted yourself where you didn’t belong, and Frederick died because of it.”
She was about to say more, when Merry’s kidnapper appeared in the doorway.
“Luis—bueno.” Anne turned, beckoning him into the room. “Está aquí.” A brittle smile curved her lips. “I think we’re ready.”
“For what?” Edward exclaimed. He bolted to his feet and stalked over to her, his step faltering as his blood pressure spiked. “What are you doing?”
Her smile faded. “Calm down, Edward. You’re flushed and agitated. It’s not good for you. Think of your heart.”
“I can’t fix this, Anne. Not this time. Not if you hurt these people.”
“You won’t have to.” She lay a soothing palm on his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on hurting anyone.” She glanced over at James, who was standing, stiff with shock, beside Edward. “James, take your grandfather to his bedroom. He needs to lie down and rest. And call Dr. Richards. Tell him to drive up immediately. I want him to give your grandfather a thorough examination. Just to be on the safe side.”
James turned to study his grandfather. It was true he didn’t look well. His color was blotchy and his breathing unsteady. On the other hand, James wasn’t eager to see his reaction if he were dragged out of the room. He’d probably go ballistic.
“It’s your call,” James informed him. “You obviously understand what’s going on here a lot better than I do. Do you want to stay or go?”
For a moment, Edward didn’t reply. He mopped at his brow, still scrutinizing his wife. “Anne, right now, it’s all hearsay, except what’s happening in this room. It can be fixed. Detective Montgomery’s a reasonable man. He and I can come to an equitable arrangement. But only if you walk away.”
“I intend to,” Anne assured him. “In just a few minutes. The Montgomerys and I need to have a talk. After that, I’ll be in to join you.”
Edward’s breath was coming in uneven pants. “Have Luis take them home.”
“Go rest, dear. You need to lie down. And stop worrying. I have everything under control.”
He grimaced, clearly torn between common sense and physical weakness. His chest was tight, and a sharp pain seared through it, reminding him that he was playing Russian roulette with his body. Fighting the pain, he leaned heavily against his desk.
“Enough, Grandfather.” James appeared at his side, supporting him and guiding him toward the door. “Stop being stubborn. You can’t risk another heart attack; it could kill you. Let’s go.”
Edward resisted long enough to
turn to his wife. “I’m sure you know what’s at stake.”
“I do.” Anne stepped aside so he and James could leave the room. “Pour your grandfather a glass of water,” she instructed James. “And stay with him until Dr. Richards arrives.”
“I will.” James led Edward into the hall.
Anne shut the door behind them. Gesturing to Luis, she pointed at Monty and Sally. “Ate las manos.”
In response, he yanked some rope out of his pocket and walked over, pausing behind Sally’s chair.
“El hombre primero,” Anne ordered.
Obediently, he moved a few steps to the left, preparing to tie Monty’s hands first.
