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52
Williard House
Near Camden, Maine
SUNDAY NIGHT
Sherlock looked over at Domino standing against the closed bedroom door, her gun at her side, her face pale. She hadn’t planned for any of this to happen. Sherlock knew she’d called her boss. Was it Rule Shaker? Whoever he was, he was probably on his way, she knew that much. With Nero and Stankovic both dead and Ilic wounded, he wouldn’t leave Domino in charge with only Caruso to help her.
She looked over at Ilic sitting on a chair with his back against the bedroom wall, holding his freshly bandaged knee. He’d bitched and complained until Domino gave him some oxycodone out of her stash, told him all he had to do was stay awake enough to keep his Beretta pointed at Sherlock. She’d promised him Caruso would take him to a hospital to get the knee looked after, so stop his whining. As for Caruso, he was out fetching Nero’s body. Would Caruso bury Nero and Stankovic together in the woods?
Sherlock examined Molly’s side and felt immense relief. She said quietly, “The bleeding’s stopped. The bullet went through, and the entry and the exit sites are close together, and that’s good. You can stop pressing. The bullet couldn’t have hit your bowel, or you’d be much sicker by now. You’re going to be all right. Are you still in pain? Has the oxycodone kicked in?”
“It sure has. I feel like I could fly up to the ceiling and hover there awhile.”
Sherlock patted her hand. “You go ahead and hover.” She leaned close, smoothed a curl back from Molly’s cheek. She whispered, “We’re going to get out of this, Molly. I swear it.”
Molly closed her eyes. Sherlock felt her let go into a drugged sleep.
Sherlock said to Domino, “At least we’re moving up in the world. An actual bedroom.”
Domino looked around her, her distaste clear. “This old dump, I hate it. It’s a piece of crap, but he loves it, talks on and on about its good bones.” She gave an ugly laugh. “Well, this pile of bricks sure outlasted Nero. We’re all going to stay together from now on, right here.” She eyed Sherlock. “I still can’t believe how you fooled him into thinking he’d killed you, but you won’t do anything like that to me. I have no reason not to kill you if you try.”
Sherlock said, “I know your boss is coming, since you called him. I heard some of what you said on your cell in the hall. So you lied to me, Nero didn’t hide your cell. That was well done.”
“Thank you.”
“You told your boss everything was falling apart, didn’t you? If he’s coming from Las Vegas, he won’t be here until the middle of the night.” She paused a moment. “You have to know, Domino, he’s going to kill us.”
Domino’s lips seamed. She shook her head.
Sherlock said, “You told me in the limo you like playing roles. You were very good playing Nero’s underling, pretending to be terrified of him. But I saw it—you really were shocked when he shot Pope between the eyes.”
“Sure, it was a shock. I liked Pope. I asked him if he did it to scare you both into submission. If that was his reason, he was sure wrong. You never give up, do you, Sherlock?”
Sherlock smiled at her.
“Nero finally told me shooting Pope was the plan from the beginning. Not telling me was his idea, to make it seem more real. I think he got a kick out of it when I nearly fell apart. Now he’s dead.”
“And you trust your boss not to do the same to you? To shoot you dead like Pope? Domino, you’re smart, you have to know your boss never intended for either Molly or me to live. Look at her, Domino. Her only sin is trying her best to protect her daughter from being kidnapped again. Did Shaker tell you he kidnapped Emma when she was only six years old? Did he tell you Molly and Ramsey had to save her daughter from a pedophile? And that pedophile never gave up getting her back until he was killed? And Shaker sent you to kidnap her again? Were you supposed to kill her, Domino? A twelve-year-old girl?”
“No!”
“But you think it’s all right if he kills Molly and me because we’re not children, we’re adults? Will what he pays you be worth watching him kill us?”
“That’s not the plan. Now shut up, I don’t want to listen to you.” She raised her Beretta and pointed it at Sherlock’s forehead. “I mean it. Lie down beside her and keep quiet.”
She turned when Caruso knocked on the bedroom door. She opened it. “Is it done?”
Caruso nodded. “Nero’s in the SUV. Even waiting for the boss to bring two more men, it’ll still be a bitch burying him and Stankovic. The ground’s still frozen.”
Domino nodded. “Ilic and the Hunt woman are practically out from the oxycodone. You might as well take Ilic out of here, put him in a bed. Then come back. We’re not going to leave these women alone again. You’ll take Ilic to the hospital when help arrives.”
Caruso helped Ilic up, shoved his shoulder under his armpit, and walked him out. He gave Sherlock a long last look. “You’re not going to walk away from this, lady. There’s no way.”
Sherlock looked down at the scratches on her hands, scabbed with dried blood. She didn’t have her man’s coat any longer. Ilic had taken one look at her and nearly ripped it off her. At least he hadn’t tried to shoot her for putting a bullet in his knee.
Domino said, “Just to let you know, there aren’t any trees outside the window for you to climb down, and it’s a long drop. Why not take a nap with Mrs. Hunt?”
She gave Sherlock a last look, closed the bedroom door behind her. Sherlock heard the bolt slide in.
She felt a wave of fatigue. Domino was right, there was nothing to do now but wait to see who came.
Molly whispered, “I wonder if Eve will come with him? If she’s in it with him, she will. She always despised me, believed I was a frump. Do you know she put the moves on Ramsey?”
“No, I didn’t know,” but Molly was asleep and didn’t respond, pulled under by the drugs. Sherlock stretched out beside her and closed her eyes. She pictured Dillon throwing Sean in the air, their son laughing his head off. She had to believe he’d find her. But how? She swallowed.
Sherlock hated it, but she was afraid.
