Chapter 33
Chapter 33
P oppy woke to a sound she recognized, the rhythmic click of a gun’s safety mechanism. Her father had never succumbed to the nervous habit of sliding his gun’s safety off and on, over and over, but one of his attachés in Africa had. She almost expected to hear her father’s irritated growl, Click that gun once more, Davies, and I’ll wrap it around your neck.
“For the record, and not that it matters, but I do like you, Poppy. If I’m being honest, you’re the best first date I’ve ever had.”
How did he know she was awake now? Poppy barely knew. Maybe he’d been talking the entire time, regardless of whether she was conscious for it. She tried to swallow and winced. The stabbing pain in her neck was nothing compared to her raging headache and—with a gasp of panic, her hand settled on her bump.
“Your baby’s fine. I know exactly how long to press in order to make a person lose consciousness and how long to press to kill. Not my first time, as I’m certain you’re aware.”
Poppy felt a reassuring little jab against the hand pressing her belly. Her baby girl was fine, at least for the moment. Whether or not she stayed that way remained to be seen.
“Why?” Poppy asked. It was all she could say.
Diego let out a breath, staring hard into the middle distance. Poppy looked around, searching for escape. They were in a factory, that much she could discern. “Because this is war,” he replied. “Your Rangers brought this on me, on themselves. I’m a businessman second, a family man first.” He held up his wrist, reminding her of his tattoo. “They hounded and hounded and hounded, dogging my steps all day and all night. My kids asked me why the men with the white hats follow me all the time. And my wife…” he trailed off and swallowed hard. Poppy wanted to ask what happened with his wife, but her throat was too sore. Thankfully he didn’t seem to need her prompting to continue.
“My wife told me she wants sole custody of the kids. She filed the motion today.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs with an earnest expression. “I already lost Avie, Poppy. I can’t lose my kids, too.”
“You still love her,” she croaked. Why did she make the effort? To understand him? To try and connect? To divert and delay? She only knew it seemed imperative to keep him going.
“More than anything in the entire world. I still remember the first day I saw her. We were fourteen years old, first day of freshman year. I was so angry, such a punk kid. She was so sweet, so pure. Whenever I was with her, I felt like for one minute maybe I could be clean, you know? Like maybe I had a chance to turn over a new leaf, get rid of all the bad decisions. Start over. Be an upstanding guy.”
“You could,” she hissed.
He laughed. The sound was more sad than amused. “I tried, believe it or not. We were young, na?ve, and in love. Seeing you reminded me of her. We were so happy, so ecstatic when she was pregnant with our first. For a few years I tried to keep on the upstanding side of the business. My dad thought it was a hoot, used to call my wife St. Avie. He was never faithful to my mom. There were always other women around. I never cheated on Avie, never even looked at another woman. All I wanted was her.” He blew out a breath, his gun clicking faster. “Then my dad got sick. Decisions needed to be made.”
“It’s not too late,” Poppy said. “Go back. Start over.”
He gave her what was probably supposed to be a patronizing smile but too much evil leaked through. A shudder rippled through her and she rested both hands on the bump now, protective.
“Things start out small enough, you know? Fixing the books, a courier run. And then one day you reach the point of no return. I already reached that point when Avie gave me an ultimatum.” He paused and glanced away, swallowing hard. “After the divorce, she started seeing someone. A lapsed priest, isn’t that a kick? She must have a thing for men who can’t stay away from sin.”
“Are they married?” Poppy asked, wincing. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed broken crystals and some of them were still lodged inside.
“I killed him. Gutted him in the street and left him to bleed out like an unwanted fish. Not to sound cliché, Poppy, but if I can’t have her, no one can.”
Poppy wasn’t immune to men who’d taken lives. Her father had killed men. How many, Poppy had no idea. But she did know it was either in self-defense or to protect other people. She had never heard anyone talk so factually about murdering another person in cold blood.
“See, that thing your eyes are doing, that’s what Avie’s did when she began to realize the awful truth of who I am. And now that she knows, it doesn’t matter what I do. I could never do anything good enough to earn her love; she gave it freely. Now that I’ve lost it, it doesn’t matter how low I sink because I’ll never get it back again. She’ll never look at me with the light of innocence and trust again, so what’s the point? If you’re going to hell in a hand basket, might as well take as many people with you as you can along the way, right?”
He was psychotic. Poppy realized then there was nothing she could say to help her cause. He had succumbed to darkness, had embraced the basest pieces of himself and given in to total depravity. The fact that he was able to pretend to be anything else must be due to the things he had learned from his wife. He could fake being a good person for a time, but it would never last.
“You’re a cool one. Most people beg at this point,” he said. “The former priest did. Begged like a little boy, cried and wept and prayed. I asked him if he’d be willing to trade Avie’s life for his, if I let him live, gave him the option of sacrificing her to save himself. He said yes, didn’t even have to think about it. What kind of man does that? I would die for her. I’ve already killed for her. I wonder if your little Ranger is willing to die for you.”
Poppy flinched and gasped as the pain in her throat jostled through her. The baby in her belly woke up and began to kick furiously, as if somehow trying to help defend her mother. Maybe she carried Bailey’s baby by mistake. Maybe Bailey would have a nurturing little screwup who baked too much and had a penchant for stumbling into trouble. Diego waved his hand. “Oh, don’t for a minute think I believe he would trade you to keep his life. Those Rangers don’t get the white hats for nothing. But being willing to step in and take a bullet for someone face to face is a whole different ballgame than a theoretical game of what if.”
The factory came to a grinding halt. Diego tipped his head. “Huh, I thought we’d have more time. The Rangers usually aren’t so quick to play catch up. I guess having one of their own in the game makes all the difference. Do you think Ranger Langford will come for you in person? I bet he will, he seems the type. Cool under pressure, in charge of his emotions.” He leaned forward and slid the gun along her cheek. Poppy closed her eyes and tried to block his scent. She hadn’t eaten in hours, and her nausea had made an unwelcome return.
“I’m going to make him watch while I kill you,” he whispered.
“He’ll kill you back,” Poppy made herself whisper.
He laughed again, and this time the sound was amused. “A Ranger? Murder a man in cold blood? No. Here’s how it will go down. I’ll kill you, drop my gun, and put my hands up in surrender. He’ll stand there and contemplate taking me out, and then he’ll lower his gun in defeat, certain he’s done the right thing, the honorable thing. He’ll still need to look himself in the mirror as he grieves, you know? I’ll go to prison where I’ll keep doing my job, running my empire. And somewhere, someday, one of my men will slip into Ranger Langford’s bedroom and slit his throat. Do you believe in the hereafter, Poppy? I do. Take heart you’ll be together soon. Forever this time.” He stood and hauled her up by the bicep, forcing her to walk beside him.
“Want to know what’s going to happen next?” Diego whispered. By the glee in his tone, he seemed to be enjoying himself. “They’re going to tell me to come out with my hands up. They have the place surrounded.” He herded her to the center of the factory and up a narrow, rickety staircase. It looked like some sort of food production place, possibly candy. Poppy wondered if there was any significance in that. Did Diego take her to a sugar factory because she was a pastry chef? Dramatic displays appeared to be his calling card. In any case, the narrow overlook they were now ascending was just that: a place to look over the production line. It was so narrow they had to walk single file.
“Diego Cortez, this is Lieutenant Marshall of the Texas Rangers. We have the building surrounded and there is no escape. Come out with your hands up.”
Diego held the gun to Poppy’s head. “You ready for this, Poppy? This is where it gets good, this is where the players start to perform. Stay tuned, you’re going to love this.” He cleared his throat dramatically and called in a loud voice. “Send in Ranger Langford alone, and I’ll surrender.”
Poppy tried to yell, to tell Sully not to come, that it was a trap, but she couldn’t get the words out. Not only was her injured throat too sore, but Diego was now pressing his free hand over her mouth.
They stood in perfect silence a minute until a door opened and Sully strode inside, gun at his side.
“If he’s not alone, I’ll know,” Diego called.
“I’m alone,” Sully said. “Drop your weapon in good faith.”
“Come up here first, and I will.”
Poppy tried to shake her head. Diego yanked hard on her hair, causing tears to leak out of her eyes. It’s not going to work. He’s going to kill me anyway, she wanted to say because Diego was right, and she knew Sully. He would never be able to kill a man in cold blood, and then he would spend the rest of his life in regret, tearing his hair out for not being able to save her, always questioning if he should have gone ahead and killed Diego anyway.
Sully climbed the ladder slowly, keeping a close eye on her and Diego. He stepped up onto the end of the walkway and raised his gun. Diego moved Poppy in front of him like a shield.
“So, Ranger Langford. I think we can agree you made a big mistake by involving my wife,” Diego said, his tone conversational.
“You involved mine first,” Sully said. “And now it’s time to let her go.”
“You know, I think you’re right,” Diego said. He tipped Poppy backwards over the railing, but she was ready for him. She clutched tightly, digging her feet into the metal floor beneath her. Thanks to the baby, she was no longer a tiny thing. While she didn’t weigh as much as Diego, she wasn’t a piece of fluff. Diego laughed. “Ah, Poppy, always have to make things hard. Fine, we’ll do it the messy way.” His gun raised to her temple.
“Poppy, close your eyes and don’t open them,” Sully said, his voice vibrating with a tension she didn’t understand. It was more than fear, it sounded almost gleeful. Diego must not have understood it, either, because he paused, the barrel of the gun cutting hard into Poppy’s flesh.
“Please don’t tell me you think you’re going to succeed in killing me first,” Diego said. “There’s no way you can shoot me without shooting her.”
“You’re right. You’re so right,” Sully agreed, the gleeful tone fully in place now. “I simply wanted to tell you something, something that might surprise you.”
“What?” Diego asked, his tone wary for the first time since the ordeal began.
“I get it. The family thing. I would do anything to protect my family, my wife, my child. Anything.”
Diego laughed bitterly. “Come now, Ranger. We both know you’re not a killer. You shoot me after I get rid of her, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison.”
“Might be worth it,” Sully said. “But I think you’re right. Thirty of my colleagues are on standby outside. There’s no way I could shoot you and get away with it. The only way it could work is if I snapped your neck and made it look like an accident.”
Diego blinked at him. “There’s no way you could do that.”
“You’re right,” Sully said. “There’s no way I could do that.” He lowered his gun. As silently as he’d arrived, The Colonel reached forward, snapped Diego’s neck, and tossed him over the railing, as easy as tossing away a twig, though the man must have weighed at least two hundred pounds.
Poppy inhaled sharply and stiffened. “Dad?”
The Colonel and Sully made eye contact. The Colonel shook his head and stepped backwards, disappearing without a sound. Sully stepped forward and gathered Poppy close. “No, darlin’, just me. You can open your eyes now, but keep them on me, okay?”
She opened her eyes. Her pupils were wide with shock, and she trembled. Sully had his doubts he would ever get her safely down the rickety, steep staircase. They’d need to bring in the fire department and a ladder. Thankfully they had one on standby; they had everything on standby.
“Wh-what happened to Diego?” she asked, teeth chattering.
“There was an accident. He fell. You’re safe now, it’s over.” His hand smoothed up and down her spine, bestowing comfort, shushing her. Meanwhile he spoke into his radio, called for an ambulance for Diego and one for Poppy, as well as the fire department to get her down.
His colleagues streamed into the building. The usual buzz of activity began to take place—pictures, a perimeter, interviews, statements. Sully would have to give an interview and statement, probably more than one. But his story would never change. Diego was a wild man, flailing all around. He lost his footing and fell. I could hear the crunch of his spine as he landed, an obvious broken neck. A shame we didn’t get to put him in custody, but these things happen sometimes. He felt no remorse over the end of the man’s life, none. He would have killed Poppy and their unborn daughter, he was certain. He did feel pity and regret for Diego’s ex-wife and children, but perhaps they had a chance for a fresh start, a life free of crime and family-related transgressions.
For now, Sully ignored everything and focused on Poppy, kissing her hair, her eyes, her temple, caressing her face, her spine, her bump. She leaned into him, trying so hard to be brave.
“B-Bailey would have roundhouse kicked him,” she said after a long, ominous silence. Who was she kidding, though? Bailey never would have gotten kidnapped in the first place.
Sully didn’t chastise her for comparing. Instead he continued to try and soothe her with his touch. He’d discovered her kryptonite—human contact—and used it with the potency of Lex Luther. “And what would Jane do?”
As she thought about that, her trembling started to subside. “Probably detail the history of the Chinese mafia. In Mandarin.”
“That’s why you’re my favorite. You’re a real girl,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her ear.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Ranger Langford.”
“Apparently,” he said, patting her bump, and somehow no one thought it was odd that they were laughing out loud while a dead man lay below, his neck at an unnatural angle.
In the heating duct halfway across the factory, The Colonel heard his daughter’s laughter and smiled. Thatta girl, Poppy. Way to make a comeback. His daughters were as different as three girls could be, but all of them were strong and resilient. And all of them were happily settled with good men who loved them. Really, what more could a father ask for? Juniper would be so proud when he relayed for her the parts he could which, admittedly, wouldn’t be many. And soon he was going to be a grandfather, twice over. When he thought back to how it all began, the unlikely pairing with Juniper Dunbar, he almost had to stifle a laugh. Life was funny sometimes.