“Jake?”
In the almost pitch darkness, she made out Marty’s form as he moved forward. He’d shed the black he’d been wearing. He was in his typical work suit.
It was oddly lacking in mud stains. “Jake, man, I’m sorry. It’s Nick’s niece. She must have gotten into drugs or something. She helped pull off the kidnapping at the hospital. She’s in on this whole thing.”
“I’m going to give you one warning, Marty,” Jake said softly. “I wanted to just haul off and shoot you, but…well, truthfully, I haven’t figured out yet who your partner is. You’re not the one who’s been on the Gwendolyn, and I want to know who was. When I realized you’d killed Nancy, I wanted to shoot you in both kneecaps, then rip your heart out. But…”
“But what?” Marty said. “But I have a gun, maybe? Maybe you’re the big hotshot detective, Jake, but I do just fine on the target range, and now I’ve got the drop on you. Everyone admires Jake, respects him. He’s the guy with the instincts, the one who can sift through the garbage, and find the golden clue. I can’t tell you what it’s been like, watching you day after day, working with you, watching you eat your heart out over Nancy Lassiter. But you didn’t figure it out, Jake.”
“Well, Marty, actually, I did. A little late, I grant you, but—here I am. Will it make you feel better to hear it? I do feel like an idiot. Bordon did give me something the first time out, without really saying anything. Smoke and mirrors. The cult meant nothing. And then, when he was dying, he kept saying ‘your partner.’ At first I thought he meant Nancy, of course. But then I began to realize he might have meant someone else. So I went home, pulled up a few records. The thing that cinched it was the newspaper report on the day Nancy was found and her car was pulled from the canal. You were the first cop on the scene. You were a vice cop back then, so I had to ask myself what you were doing there. Are you the one who actually killed the women, Marty, or your partner?”
Marty grinned and shrugged. “You still don’t know who that is, do you, Jake?”
“I have a hunch.”
“You don’t know.”
“Did you kill the women, Marty?”
“Yeah, Jake, I killed them. Nosy women. Their own fault. They shouldn’t have been snooping around.”
“The last victim…she showed up at the commune next door and saw something she shouldn’t have, right?”
“Jake, you’re just brilliant,” Marty said sarcastically.
“And Nancy? You killed her, too, didn’t you?”
“You should have seen her face when she saw me in that house, Jake. She was stunned. Smart girl. She caught on quick. Too bad for her. I killed her. And when I finish with you, I’m going after your little redhead. Now, she’s a problem. Those drawings of hers…I had to get her out of the way whether you came into the picture or not. That picture of Cassie Sewell was…hell, it was scary. And who the hell would have thought she’d be a friend of that idiot reporter I drugged up and threw on the road? Go figure,” he said casually.
“I hate to say it, Marty,” Jake said, his voice extremely quiet. “I hope they give you the death penalty.”
“They haven’t got me yet, Lone Ranger.”
“You’re under arrest, Marty. And you will go to trial.”
“You’ve got a gun, Jake. I’ve got a gun. Let’s count to three. But what if you shoot me? What happens when I’m dead? You’ll still be searching, Jake. Because there’s still someone else out there.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Marty.”
“Right. I’m going to kill you.” He laughed bitterly. “Look at you, Jake. Out here alone again. Blake gets pissed at you all the time, you know. Hell, I think he feels sorry for me, working with you. ‘That Jake,’ he’ll say. ‘He was such a loner. We had a whole task force, but Jake thought he could solve it all himself.’ Well, guess what, Jake? Dumb move this time.”
“Marty, put the gun down.”
“Jake, you’re going down. I think I can take you, and if I can’t, well, see you in hell.”
“Drop your weapon.”
“What, no warning shot?”
“Drop your weapon. You’re under arrest. You have the right—” Jake began.
Marty pulled his .38. He was fast. Jake was faster. The shots were deafening. For long seconds Ashley grasped the tree in a death grip. Long seconds that seemed an eternity of smoke and left both men still standing.
Then Marty fell, face first, into the muck.