“Those bad cops forced my father, a good man and the fire captain in this city at the time, to falsify reports. They swore they would harm his family if he didn’t follow their orders.”
“And what reports did your father falsify?”
“The ones that said the cause of the fire that killed your parents was electrical.”
Margo felt a lump in her throat, and the pulse in her neck began thrumming. “Surely you’re not saying the fire that killed my parents was deliberately set.”
Claudine rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. Don’t be stupid. Did you honestly think five cops would willingly go to jail? They figured if they killed your parents and Summers’s wife, that Summers would get the message and call off the investigation and the new trial. But he didn’t.”
Margo felt weak in the knees. Her parents and Roland’s wife had been murdered?
“Those bad cops were eventually arrested and sent to jail. Fortunately, Dad wasn’t linked to any of it, but the guilt he felt for falsifying that report eventually drove him to commit suicide. I was only fourteen and was the one who found him. He’d hung himself, leaving a note confessing everything. I never gave it to anyone. I kept the note all these years.”
Margo just stared at Claudine. Did Claudine not understand that she wasn’t the only person who’d lost someone because of those corrupt cops? Margo had lost her parents and Roland had lost a wife, a brother and sister-in-law.
“Your uncle Frazier Connelly is on my list as well,” Claudine continued. “He will eventually get what he deserves.”
“Good,” Liz said.
Margo ignored Liz’s words. “And what did Uncle Frazier do?”
“Nothing other than be related to you and Summers.”
*
STRIKER HAD HEARD ENOUGH. He quickly moved from behind the huge plant.
“Drop the damn gun, Claudine!”
Startled, Claudine aimed the gun at him and he fired, hitting Claudine in the shoulder. She dropped the gun and fell to the floor. He rushed forward, kicking both Liz’s and Claudine’s guns away from their reach.
Suddenly, Roland, Stonewall, Quasar, Detective Ingram and two of her police officers stormed into the kitchen with their guns drawn.
“Call for medical attention for her,” Detective Ingram said to one of the officers, pointing at Claudine, who was balled up on the floor moaning. “And handcuff Ms. Tillman. Read them both their rights.”
After putting his gun away, Striker moved toward Margo and pulled her into his arms, placing a kiss on her forehead. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. Claudine’s father lied about my parents’ deaths. They were murdered, Striker. It wasn’t an electrical fire at all. And Claudine paid someone to set up a carjacking to kill Roland.”
“I heard,” Striker said.
“And I heard as well,” Roland said, coming to stand beside them. “I was able to prove that those cops killed my wife, but I couldn’t prove the fire that killed your parents had been deliberately set, although I suspected as much. I’m sorry.”
Margo lifted a brow. “Why are you sorry? It wasn’t your fault.”
“In a way I feel like it was. Your father gave Becca the money she needed to hire a private investigator to get enough evidence to reopen the case. If Murdock hadn’t gotten involved then—”
“How could he not get involved? Dad was your brother, and he had every right to get involved,” she cut in to say. “What happened to them was not your fault. I don’t blame you for anything any more than Claudine should blame us for what happened to her father.”
She paused and then added, “I’m sorry for what they did to your wife. And to know you spent time in jail as an innocent man. That had to be awful for you.”
“I survived.”
“How did you know what was going down?” Striker asked Roland.
“We have Detective Ingram to thank for that. Earlier today, one of her men picked up a guy who’s known as a ‘criminal-for-hire.’ He offered information in exchange for a plea. He said Liz Tillman had hired him to take out Margo. We tried calling Margo to warn her that Liz might do something herself, but when she didn’t answer, we headed over here. We didn’t know you were back in town.” Roland’s cell phone went off and he said, “Excuse me while I get this.”
Margo turned her attention back to Striker. “I thought you were out of town too.”
“I was. I got back today and came straight here from the airport. When I saw the car in your driveway, something didn’t seem right.”
“I’m no threat to Margo. I just dropped by to talk to her,” a handcuffed Liz said, when the officer was about to lead her away.
Detective Ingram rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, Ms. Tillman. And the next thing you’re going to do is try to convince us that one of those guns isn’t yours.”
“B-but I don’t know her,” Liz said, indicating Claudine.
“You might not know her, but the two of you have something in common,” Detective Ingram said to her.
“What?”
“Apparently you both hired the same guy to do your dirty work. Claudine Bernard paid Patrick Grooms to kill Roland Summers during a pretended carjacking, and you, Ms. Tillman, paid him to get rid of Ms. Connelly. He was picked up this morning and since then he’s been singing like a bird.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Liz said. “I didn’t pay anyone to do anything. I don’t know anyone named Patrick Grooms. It will be my word against his.”
“Um, not really,” Detective Ingram said. “You see, Grooms also told us where the two of you met when you paid him to do the job. Unfortunately for you, it was a café with security cameras. You were captured on video making the payment to him. You and Ms. Bernard both were caught on camera at the same café.” She then looked at the officer. “Now get her out of here.”
As soon as Liz was walked out, paramedics arrived to take care of Claudine’s shoulder. She continued to yell at the top of her lungs that Roland and Margo needed to die. Striker was glad when they finally finished dressing Claudine’s shoulder and took her out.
Frazier Connelly rushed into the kitchen looking panic-stricken. “Margo? You okay? I got Roland’s text about Liz.”
“I’m fine, thanks to Striker,” she said, reaching out to give her uncle a hug. “He saved my life once again.”
Frazier glanced at Striker. “Thanks. And who was that other woman? The one whose shoulder is bandaged up?”
“You tell him everything, Uncle Roland. I’m too jumpy to do so right now,” she said, snuggling closer into the comfort of Striker’s arms. She wasn’t sure where Striker had gone when he’d left town or whether he had begun to deal with all his issues. All that mattered was that he was here and had saved her life once more.
Striker tightened his arms around her, and Margo appreciated that. Hearing Roland retell the story for Uncle Frazier’s benefit sent chills through her entire body. She hadn’t looked into the barrel of just one gun today, but two. She was fine now, though. Striker was here with her.
CHAPTER FORTY
“YOUR BATH IS READY.”
Margo glanced up as Striker walked down the stairs. Why now, of all times, did he have to look so damn sexy? Hot. So irresistibly male. “Thanks. And thanks for saving my life again. It seems to have become a habit.”
Striker slid beside her on the sofa. “Hell, I hope not.”
He took her hand in his, linking their fingers. “You’ll never know how I felt when I saw Liz holding that gun on you. It reinforced my realizations about a few things.”
“What?”
“Mainly, that you need a forever-protector.”
A smile curved Margo’s lips. “You want to apply for the job?”
His gaze locked on hers, his expression serious. “Yes.”