The Crush Part 50

were in Galveston." "I was."

"Then he got word that her horses had been shot. Miles from Galveston. Confused the h.e.l.l outta them all. Anyhow, Wesley slapped me in a holding cell and sorta forgot about me, I guess. Until this morning. He let me shower. Gave me breakfast. Put me in this room and told me to wait. "When he came back, Threadgill was with him. I told them I had changed my mind, that I wanted a lawyer. You know the rest. I swear I didn't tell them anything." He was crying now, blubbering like a baby, but he couldn't help it. Lozada withdrew the knife. "The only reason I'm not killing you is because I don't know how to destroy your computers and be certain I'm also destroying all the data they contain." Weenie wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Huh?" "Get to it, Weenie," Lozada said softly. Weenie swallowed convulsively. "You want me to destroy my computers?" Lozada might just as well have asked a mother to smother her child. Weenie had been prepared to take a vacation from his computers for a while, but to destroy them was beyond his imagining. He couldn't do it. Lozada's hand barely moved, but Weenie felt a slight tug at his crotch and a sudden draft. When he looked down he saw that his pants had been split open from inseam to waistband. The knife was poised just below his crotch. The blade gleamed wickedly. "Get to work, Weenie, or your foreskin is next." Weenie had been circ.u.mcised, but, at the moment, that seemed a rather insignificant detail.

As soon as Rennie alighted from the elevator on the ground floor of the hospital, she heard her name.

Grace Wesley was entering the atrium lobby through the revolving doors. Rennie tried to catch the elevator and hold it for her, but the doors had closed and it had already begun its ascent. Grace rushed up to her. "Please don't tell me he's dead." "No, he's still with us." Grace's knees buckled and she might have collapsed had Rennie not been there to lend support. "He's still listed as critical, but they think he's going to make it." Grace covered her mouth to stifle a sob of relief.

"Thank G.o.d, thank G.o.d. You're sure?"

"I talked to the them just now as they were wheeling him out of surgery."

Grace blotted her eyes with a tissue. "I was so afraid that by the time I got here ..." She was unable to speak aloud the horrible thought.

Rennie reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly. "I heard you'd gone to Tennessee to see your daughters."

"A Nashville policewoman met my flight and told me what had happened. I never even left the airport. Took the next flight back. Oren's supervisor met me at DFW and drove me straight here." She paused. "You said 'they.'"

"What?"

'You said 'they' think Oren's going to make it."

"I was referring to the surgical team."

"I thought you--"

"I wasn't even allowed to observe, much less perform the surgery. Under the circ.u.mstances that would have been very awkward. But he had an excellent team working on him."

"I would have requested you."

"Thanks for that." Moved to tears, Rennie turned away and punched the elevator b.u.t.ton again.

"Is it true, Rennie? Wick did this?"

Sadly she lowered her head, nodding.

Grace said, "That's what I was told, but I thought there must be some mistake. I can't believe it."

"Neither can I. It's . . . incomprehensible. What could have driven him to do this? The two of them have been through so much together, been such good friends. Wick thinks the world of your husband." Head still down, she rubbed her eyes. "Detective Wesley is in ICU and Wick's in jail."

"He's in love with you."

Rennie's head came up quickly.

"He is." Grace held Rennie's astonished stare until an elevator arrived and the doors slid open. "I've got to go."

"Yes. By all means."

Grace quickly boarded the elevator. Rennie waited until the doors had closed before she turned to go. Yesterday's unseasonable rain was a memory. It was blistering hot on the doctors' parking lot. She would never again traverse it without thinking of Lee Howell. His murder had been cataclysmic, but this tragic chain of events had really begun when she'd announced the jury's verdict. "We find the defendant not guilty."

Her house was dark when she arrived. As always, she drove her Jeep into her garage and entered through the kitchen door. She went straight to the refrigerator and got a bottle of water.

She stood at the kitchen sink until she had drunk all of it. She pa.s.sed through her living room, went down the dark hallway and into her bedroom. She switched on the nightstand lamp and undressed. When she was down to her underwear, she went into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucets. She chose a scented gel and took a long shower. Wrapped in her favorite, most comfortable robe, she went back into the kitchen and poured herself a gla.s.s of wine. She carried it with her into the living room and sat down in her favorite spot in the corner of the sofa. She sipped her wine and thought back to the night she'd fallen asleep here and later had been called to an emergency at the hospital. The patient had had a critical stab wound to the back. Wick. She had caused him so much pain. Wesley too. He and his whole family. And now . . . G.o.d, now.

Her head fell back against the sofa cus.h.i.+ons. She closed her eyes, but tears slid through her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. They had all suffered because of her and that d.a.m.ned verdict. She sat there for a long while, with her head back and her eyes closed. That was how he found her. Or rather, that was how she was when she sat up, turned, and said, "h.e.l.lo, Lozada." He was standing behind the sofa, inches away, looking down at her. "I've been expecting you." He smiled, pleased. "Have you, Rennie?" Hearing him say her name, seeing that reptilian smile, almost made her throw up the wine. Placing the gla.s.s on the coffee table, she stood up and came around the end of the sofa to face him. "I knew you'd come when you heard about what happened to Oren Wesley." "Your boyfriend can't control his temper. An unfortunate character trait. It was only a matter of time before he self-destructed. Wesley?" He shrugged. "His problem is choosing the wrong friends."

"How'd you find out? It hasn't been on the news. Security was so tight at the hospital that only a handful of staff knew Wesley's ident.i.ty and the nature of his injury. You must have an informant in the FWPD. Who told you?" "A little birdy," he whispered. "He's a cowardly little birdy. I didn't believe him at first, but I've checked out the sad tale, and, alas, it's true."

He reached out to finger a strand of hair that lay against her chest. She forced herself not to recoil, but he must have sensed her revulsion because he smiled that smile again. "You look lovely tonight."

"I don't look lovely at all. I'm tired. Weary, actually. Of everything."

"Your trip must've been exhausting."

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what, my dear?"

"How'd you get from Galveston to my ranch before daybreak?"

"I told you before, Rennie, I don't reveal trade secrets.

If I did, I'd soon be out of business."

"It was quite a feat."

He laughed. "I don't have wings, if that's what you're thinking."

When her palm connected with his cheek, it made a sound as emphatic as an exploding firecracker.

'That's for killing my horses."

No longer laughing or smiling, he gripped her wrist so hard she cried out in pain. He whipped her around and thrust her hand up between her shoulder blades. His breath was hot against her ear. "I ought to kill you right now for doing that."

"You're going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"

"How could I possibly let you live, Rennie? You have

only yourself to blame. You should have allowed me to cherish you the way I wanted. Instead you chose to be manhandled by that crude cowboy ex-cop." He drew her tighter against him and pushed her hand up higher. "After an insult like that, you leave me no choice but to kill you both. I'm only sorry he's in jail so he won't get to watch you die. But one can't have everything."

The pain was considerable, but she didn't struggle. She didn't even whimper. "They should've locked you up years ago, Lozada. Not for being a killer, but for being insanely delusional. Don't you get it? I wouldn't have had you near me even if Wick Threadgill didn't exist. You're a creep."

He clicked open the switchblade and placed it across her throat. "Before I finish with you, you'll be begging me to spare your life."

"I'll never beg you for a d.a.m.n thing. I might have pleaded with you to spare my horses, but you didn't give me a chance. When you killed them, you played your trump card as far as I'm concerned. I'm over you, Lozada.

I'm over being afraid of you."

"Oh, I doubt that." Lowering the knife, he patted the flat side of the blade against her nipple.

Reflexively she sucked in a quick breath.

"See?" he chuckled. 'You're very afraid, Rennie."

It was true. She was terrified, but still she refused to show it. "I won't fight you, Lozada. For twenty years, every day of my life has been a bonus. I won't beg you to let me live. If that's what you're waiting for, you're only wasting your time."

"Such courage. And for that, I hate to kill you, Rennie, I really do. You're a remarkable woman. I hope you understand how badly I feel about the way our affair must end."

"We never had an affair, Lozada. As for understanding, I understand that the only way you can get a woman's attention is to terrorize her."

He drew her tighter against him and ground his crotch against her bottom. "Feel that? That's what gets women's attention. Plenty of women."

She remained silent.

"Say pretty please, Rennie." He slid his tongue down the length of her neck. "Say pretty please and I may let you suck it before I kill you."

"Oh, Lozada."

At Wick's singsong voice, Rennie felt him start.

'Yeah, that's right. That's the barrel of my three-fifty-seven in your ear. Blink and you're history."

"Please blink, Lozada. Pretty please," Oren Wesley taunted from the connecting kitchen door. His handgun was aimed directly at Lozada's head.

"Drop the blade!" Wick ordered.

Lozada chuckled and raised the razor edge back to Rennie's throat. "Go ahead and pull the trigger, Threadgill.

If you want to see her blood gush, shoot me."

"That's just like you, you chicken-livered son of a b.i.t.c.h.

Using a woman to save your a.s.s. Attacking her from behind, too. Another of your--what you'd call it?--unfortunate character traits.

"But if that's the way you want it, Ricky Roy, fine by me," he said easily. "When I fire, Oren will, too. See, we've been practicing all day. Ever since we staged that little scene for your pal Weenie. Messy as h.e.l.l, all that fake blood and all, but obviously convincing.

"Now, here's what'll happen. Our bullets will enter your skull. His may be a thousandth of a second behind

mine. But pretty d.a.m.n near simultaneous, wouldn't you say, Oren?"

"That's what I'd say."

"They might even intersect at some point, Ricky Roy, but in any case, your brains will spatter like s.h.i.+t from a tall

goose."

"She'll be dead by then," Lozada said.

"Let her go, Lozada."

"Not a chance."

"What do you think, Oren?" Wick said. "Are you tired of this c.r.a.p?"

"I'm tired of this c.r.a.p."

"Me too." And with his left hand, Wick fired a small pistol into Lozada's right elbow, point blank. Bone shattered.

Nerves and blood vessels were severed. The switchblade fell from useless fingers. Rennie dropped to the floor, as she had been instructed to do. Lozada spun around, left hand raised, thumb extended, jabbing toward Wick's eye socket. Wick fired the .35*7 directly into his chest.

Lozada's eyes widened with astonishment. Then Wick said, "This is for Joe," and fired a second time.

Lozada fell backward onto the floor.

Rennie crawled over to him and immediately checked his neck for a pulse.

"His heart's still beating." She ripped open his s.h.i.+rt.

"Leave him."

She looked up at Wick. "I can't."

Then she turned back to Lozada and set about trying to save his life.

Chapter 34.

It was eight o'clock the following morning before Rennie left the hospital. Wick was outside waiting for her in his pickup truck with the engine running. He leaned over and opened the pa.s.senger door for her.