Chapter Thirty-Six
Neveah got into the back seat of an unmarked car for the short ride to the Carver home, which was abuzz with activity. The hatchback of the red Dodge minivan was open as Mercy attempted to load another suitcase into a space already tightly packed with luggage and baby equipment.
“Detective Charles, it’s all yours.”
She swallowed hard and nodded as she got out of the car.
“Going somewhere?” she asked Mercy, taking the other woman by surprise.
“We’re going to Coeur d’Alene to see our parents.”
“Seems like you’re taking a lot of stuff for a visit.”
“Do you know how much equipment is needed for babies and young kids?”
“I can’t say that I do, but the thing is… You’re under arrest for planning the murder-for-hire of your brother-in-law Dale Carver.” Before the words had registered, Neveah had the woman cuffed with her arms behind her back.
A Spokane officer took the screaming woman to a Patrol car. Accompanied by SWAT team members, Neveah and Williams approached the open door, weapons drawn, looking for Trisha.
“Hold up.” Williams leaned in to gauge the situation inside since he had the better view from his side. “Clear.”
They entered the house and fanned out, looking for Trisha and her children.
With her heart pounding like a bass drum in her ears, Neveah pointed toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Williams nodded and indicated that he’d follow her.
She passed two empty bedrooms decorated for children and stopped at the doorway to the main bedroom, where an unmade king-sized bed took up most of the available space.
She moved quietly into the room and used her right foot to open a closet door.
The first thing she saw was Trisha with a handgun pointed at the head of her son while her daughter and the baby slept on the floor next to her.
Neveah immediately suspected they’d been drugged.
Trisha eyes had a wild, unhinged look to them. “I don’t want to kill him.”
Cody’s blue eyes were huge with fright and possibly shock.
“There’s no need to kill anyone,” Neveah said.
“You’re not taking me away from my kids.” She tightened the arm she had around Cody’s neck. “I’ll kill us all before that’ll happen.”
“Your kids are counting on you to do the right thing for them,” Neveah said.
“I did the right thing for my kids! He was going to drag us all down with him—again. I couldn’t let that happen.
You don’t know what it was like! We survived a nightmare.
A freaking nightmare, and he was using again.
” She began to cry. “He promised me that was all behind us. He said we should have another baby to celebrate his recovery. Two days after Zach was born, I found out the truth. He’d never stopped. What would you have done?”
Neveah empathized with her, but there were a lot of things Trisha could’ve done short of plotting her husband’s murder.
“Put down the gun, Trisha. Let your son go. He hasn’t done anything to deserve being hurt, and I’m worried about Reagan and Zach. It doesn’t look like they’re breathing.”
“They’re fine. They’re just sleeping.”
“They’re not fine. You’re their mom. They’re counting on you to get help for them. Can we help them?”
She cast a nervous glance at Reagan and the baby, who were preternaturally still.
Neveah acted before she fully thought through the plan, diving toward Trisha while she was briefly distracted, knocking the gun from Trisha’s hand as Neveah screamed at Cody to run.
He bolted from the closet and into the arms of Detective Williams.
Neveah knelt on Trisha’s back to cuff her. “Get EMS for the kids.”
“They’re coming in now,” Williams said. “That was impressive, Detective. Did you play football in high school?”
She released a nervous laugh as she pulled Trisha to her feet to get her out of the way of the paramedics.
“You can’t take me from my babies!” Trisha said on a scream.
Neveah wanted to tell her she should’ve thought of her kids when she and her sister were plotting her husband’s murder, but she decided it wasn’t worth wasting her breath. She’d figure that out soon enough on her own.
Gonzo had arranged transport through the U.S.
Marshals Service’s Justice Prisoner Air Transportation System, known as JPATS.
As soon as Neveah notified him that the women were in custody, he told her two marshals were standing by to help get them back to DC.
They met her outside the Carver home, where the women were being held in separate Patrol vehicles.
“Let’s get them loaded up,” said Deputy Marshal Getty, a man of about forty with buzz-cut gray hair and steely blue eyes. His partner, a Black woman with pretty brown eyes named Deputy Marshal Singer, nodded to Neveah.
“Heard you made a hell of an arrest in there, Detective,” Singer said. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks and for the assistance in getting them home.”
“That’s what we do,” Getty said. “We’ve got a plane standing by at the airport.”
When Neveah opened the back door of the cruiser where Trisha was being held, she began screaming for her children. “Where are they? What’ve you done with them?”
Neveah ignored her shrieks, as well as Mercy’s, as she helped transfer them to the marshals’ vehicle.
All three officers ignored their vociferous protests as they buckled them in for the ride to the airport.
“Where are you taking us? I want to see my children! I have rights. Get me a lawyer!”
Neveah closed the door in her face. “I need to return the rental, and then where should I meet you?”
“We’ll follow you to the drop-off and deliver you to the tarmac.”
“Excellent, thanks.”
Back in her rental car, she headed to Spokane International Airport. On the way, she called Gonzo to let him know the women were in custody and they were headed to the airport. “Trisha is screaming for her kids.”
“Oh well,” Gonzo said.
“What a mess. That poor little boy will never forget his mother holding a gun to his head.”
“How’d it go down?”
“I think she’d drugged the other two, because they were asleep on the floor next to her. I said I wasn’t sure they were breathing, and when she looked over at them, I jumped on her, knocked the gun out of her hand and got the boy out of there.”
“Whoa, look at you go. Nice job.”
“I didn’t think too much. I just went for it.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“How’s it going finding the guys they hired to do the job?”
“We’ve got Jesse Best’s team helping to track them down. I’ll keep you posted and will have your flight met at Reagan when you land.”
“Thanks for all the support.”
“We didn’t do much. You’re the one who got it done out there. We’ll wait to brief the media until you can do it.”
“Oh, um… Really?”
“Hell yes, this is your arrest, Detective.”
“Okay, thanks for the warning. I’ll need a good five or six hours to mentally prepare for that.”
Gonzo laughed. “You just tackled a woman with a gun. Handling the press will be nothing after that.”
“If you say so.”
“See you soon. Safe travels.”
After she returned the rental car, she was picked up by the marshals and driven to a special gate that led to a private jet on the tarmac.
Both women were still screaming and crying and threatening their jobs with the lawsuit they planned to file.
Neveah’s favorite was when Trisha said, “I’m a breastfeeding mother! This is an outrage. I have rights!”
She wanted to remind Trisha that her husband had had rights, too, which had been taken from him by her and her sister’s craven desire to be rid of him and cash in on the insurance money.
Neveah was usually empathetic toward others, almost to a fault, at times looking past obvious red flags to try to see the best in people. This time, she saw two women who were about to get everything they deserved after taking Dale’s life in such a depraved fashion.
They were belted in for takeoff when her phone chimed with a text from Jeremy. How’s it going? Did you get your case wrapped up?
She replied with a brief summary of events.
We’re on a flight with the U.S. Marshals now, escorting the suspects back to DC for arraignment.
The guy’s wife is wailing because she’s been taken from her kids.
I’m trying to feel bad for her, but after she held a gun to the head of her son and drugged the other two, I’m glad she’s out of their lives.
Holy crap! You went head-to-head with a woman and a gun? You’re a badass! Hope the flight is smooth, and text me when you land. Can’t wait to get home and hear all about it in person.
After she gave his message a heart reply, she powered down her phone for takeoff, smiling as she thought of him and wondered how long it would be before she could see him.
Jesse had walked around like a crooked arrow all day and was in one hell of a mood by the time he returned to the hospital and took the elevator to the ICU.
As he approached Memphis’s room, he saw one of the nurses he recognized and would’ve nodded to her if his freaking head weren’t frozen at a tilt.
Christ have mercy, he thought. Nothing was helping, not four ibuprofens, nor the muscle balm he’d bought at the pharmacy.
As the day had gone on, he’d become surlier with every passing hour without relief from the pain in his neck—or the one in his heart as it’d become clear that he needed to do something about Memphis Rose.
He still wasn’t sure what he would say to her as he approached her room—and found it empty.
Spinning around to chase after the nurse, he asked where she was.
Surely if something had happened, they would’ve called him, right?
Someone would’ve called him… Or would they?
Who was he to her besides her boss and friend? Did he even qualify as a friend?
The thoughts, arriving one after the other like machine-gun fire, had him bending at the waist to process the sickening realization that he would’ve had no right to a phone call if the worst had happened. He’d never allowed himself to fully commit, so why would he be her point of contact?
“Are you all right?”