Elise tilted her chin up. “I didn’t send it to him.”
“But you recorded him without his consent. That tape was made an hour after you killed Harper Worthington.”
“I told you, I didn’t kill him. I didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident!”
“I don’t know what to believe, Elise. I have a hard time reconciling what happened that night. I know how curare kills. He would have been alive, but completely immobile, for ten to thirty minutes. Yet, while he was suffering—or already dead—you pulled down his pants and sucked his penis.”
Elise turned away. “I didn’t.” She had no anger in her voice.
“Then, you got a ride from someone—I think it was Mona Hill who took you to a much nicer hotel, where you went up to James Everett’s room and gleefully played sex games, giggling and acting like a schoolgirl. Everett is a sick bastard, and I’m not giving him a pass on his disgusting behavior. But it takes a uniquely cold person to leave a dead man half-naked, then screw another john. You had thousands of dollars on you when you were shot. You can’t tell me you needed the money. You’re not even from San Antonio. My guess? You’re originally from Nevada. I will find your parents, I will find out what happened to you there, who started you down this road where you now allow people who don’t give a damn about you to use you like a pawn. You might think that you have the power because men want your body and will pay for it, but that’s not power. That’s hopelessness. The person who hired you—who gave you the poison to kill Harper Worthington—is the person who wanted you dead two nights ago. Why? Because you’re a witness.
“You have two choices,” Lucy continued, taking a step closer to Elise. The girl stared at her with a straight face, but her eyes were watering. Lucy didn’t want to make her cry, but maybe getting her to fall apart would be what would give her the courage to finally talk. “You take Tia up on her offer to help you. Detective Mancini is one of the most dedicated and honest cops I know. She wants to help you get out of this life, to help you finish your education and get a job. And she can do it. That means you tell us everything—everything—including who hired you to drug Harper Worthington and why you came to San Antonio in the first place. You talk, you get a free pass if you join Tia’s program. A second chance, which, at this point, I don’t know if you deserve.
“Or you keep protecting the person who wants you dead. You will go to prison because we have enough on you to make sure of it.”
Elise’s bottom lip quivered. She glared at Lucy, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Fuck you!” she screamed and threw a plastic cup half-filled with water at Lucy. It fell at her feet.
“It’s your call, Elise.” Lucy turned and walked out.
She walked down to the nurses’ station and took a deep breath. She was shaking, but she didn’t think she’d started shaking until she’d left the room. She’d hated doing that, but it was the only way she was going to get through to the girl. The girl wouldn’t take kindness if it came from Mother Teresa herself, but a threat? That she understood completely.
“Good work,” Barry said.
Lucy jumped. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I listened in. You got to her.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Tia called. “Van’s here, at the south exit.”
“I’m going to cuff her,” Lucy said. “It’ll send home the message that we mean business.”
“You can’t. She has her arm in a sling.”
“I’ll cuff her good hand to me,” Lucy said. “And ride over with her. It’ll send a psychological message that I’m sticking to her like glue until she talks.”
Barry concurred. “It’s a good idea.”
Ten minutes later, Lucy walked out the south entrance with a very unhappy and agitated Elise handcuffed to Lucy’s wrist. Tia met them at the automatic sliding doors. The SAPD transport van was parked in a loading zone twenty feet away.
“We’re ready,” Tia said, walking a step ahead of them toward the van. “And when—”
A shot rang out, followed by several more. A pain spread through Lucy’s back and her vision wavered. She reacted immediately and turned her body to cover Elise while pushing her down at the same time. Tia fell on the sidewalk next to her. Lucy smelled blood. Hers or Tia’s? Screams echoed. Someone was returning gunfire. From the corner of her eye, she saw Barry behind a pillar, gun out, shattered glass all around them. Lucy had her own gun out, but in her left hand because her right was cuffed to Elise. She could shoot with her weaker hand, but wasn’t as accurate.
Then the gunfire stopped. There were shouts and cries and Lucy couldn’t move.
“Kincaid!” Barry called.
She wanted to shout that she was okay, but she couldn’t. She took in a deep, painful breath.
“Kincaid! Are you hit?”
“Vest,” she said, breathless. “Tia.”
She looked over at the sidewalk. Tia was lying there, bleeding. Unconscious.