Ted suddenly moved toward her, and she jogged backward. He stopped, shaking his head. “See? Now that’s the problem—you just don’t get that you belong to me. Despite all your mistakes, I still loved you, you know. My world would have been complete with you in it.”
He was using past tense. Not a good sign.
“I don’t have to shoot you, if you’ll just come with me.” He leaned forward, his tone confidential. “I can call the cops off, you know. I’ve got contacts. I’m important.”
Jordan acted as if she were considering his offer while her mind raced. “Well, hell.” She made herself glare at him. “Get a clue, Ted.”
Ted’s face turned red. At that moment, Jase edged around the library door, his expression grim, just outside of Ted’s line of sight.
Jordan signaled with her hand for him to wait. “You know why some people become therapists, Ted? No? It’s because they’re so messed up, they need to figure out how to fix themselves. And I’m that messed up, believe me.”
He scowled. “No, you’re not. You’re just a little off track right now. We can fix that.”
“Off track? I don’t think so. I’ve got a Four-Point Plan for Personal Renewal, did you know that? Around here, we call it the FPP for short. And you know what? It’s in shambles.”
“What’re you talking about?” he asked, confused. “You’ve always run your life perfectly. And you can do the same for me—”
“Oh, please.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t even handle my own life, much less someone else’s.”
“That’s not true!”
“I’m the laughingstock of the town.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ted said.
“You are not the laughingstock of this town,” Charlotte said loyally. “How could you think that?”
“Shut up and wait.”
“Don’t use that tone with me,” he snapped, but he seemed less certain of himself.
Jordan turned back to him. “Here’s the thing, Ted—I’m delusional. I see ghosts.” His eyes widened. “That’s right,” she nodded, smiling triumphantly. “Ghosts.”
Jase again took a step forward, looking alarmed. She gave a slight shake of her head. She’d counseled Ted for months, and she knew every one of the jerk’s hot buttons.
“You’re just trying to trick me,” Ted said nervously.
“It’s no trick—I not only see ghosts, I can tell them what to do.” She turned her head slightly. “Charlotte, go for it.”
“Who are you talking to?” Ted’s voice rose.
Charlotte stopped pulsing spastically, her expression confused. “Go for what?”
Jesus. “Take him out,” Jordan rephrased.
“Out where?”
“Shut up, or I’ll shoot,” Ted shouted, his eyes wildly darting around the room.
“Attack, for God’s sake!” Jordan yelled.
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
An entire wall of books flew at Ted, and he screamed, dropping the gun and putting his hands up to protect his face.
Malachi and Jase launched from the doorway, and all three of them went down in a heap of flying fur, growls, and thudding fists. Jordan dove, scrabbling for the gun. More books flew off the shelves, hitting her in the back, almost knocking the wind out of her.
“Charlotte, stop!” she yelled, rising.
No one listened. Jase and Ted rolled, locked in combat. She jogged backward, avoiding being flattened by them while she fumbled with the gun.
Ducking more books, she closed in and stomped her running shoe on the back of Ted’s right wrist, pointing the gun. “Freeze, or I’ll shoot your hand. You’ll never caress the valves of your horn again.” Steadying the shaking gun with her other hand, she added as an afterthought, “You fucking creep.”
Ted froze, and Jase landed a solid punch that had his eyes rolling back in his head.
Malachi grabbed Ted’s neck and held, growling. More books flew.
“Charlotte!”
“Okay, okay!”
“It’s easier to start than it is to stop,” Hattie explained apologetically.
“Call off the damn dog!” Ted screamed.
“Malachi, come.”
Jase shoved books aside and flipped Ted over, planting a knee in the middle of his back. He yanked Ted’s arms up and back, holding his wrists with one hand, holding out the other. “Give me the gun, and then go get Darcy’s handcuffs.”
Darcy. Jordan did as he said, then ran into the hallway and knelt beside Darcy. Blood soaked her chest, and when Jordan pressed fingers to the side of her neck, her pulse was fast and thready. Jordan felt her pockets for the handcuffs, tossing them to Jase.
“Hattie! Dish towels from the kitchen.” She grabbed her cellphone and dialed 911, praying the phone was still functional. Towels flew at her. She snagged them out of the air with her free hand and pressed them to Darcy’s wound.
“Nine-one-one operator. State your emergency.”
Jordan babbled out her address and something about an officer down.
“A neighbor already called it in, ma’am. Units are on their way. Describe the location of the shooter.”
Blood immediately soaked through the towels, and she pressed harder. “He’s facedown, in the library, cuffed.” She craned her neck, then added, “He’s crying.”
There was a moment of silence. “Crying’s good,” the operator finally said, her tone wry. “Stay on the line, ma’am, until the police arrive. Can you do that for me?”
Jordan could hear the sirens in the distance. She let out a sob, giving Jase a wobbly smile. “Yeah. I can do that.”
Amanda took that moment to come strolling down the hall from the kitchen. “Hey, there’re cop cars all over the place. What’s up?”
Chapter 18
JUST after dawn the next morning, Jordan sat in the hospital room next to Darcy’s bed, punch-drunk from lack of sleep. She, Jase, and Tom had spent the night at the hospital, helping each other stay positive while they awaited word of Darcy’s condition.
After four hours of surgery, she was stable. The bullet had entered her upper right chest, then bounced around a bit, nicking her lung and shattering a rib. After another two hours of recovery, Darcy had been moved to the ICU, and the nurse had consented to Jordan’s request that she be allowed to stay in the room, even though she wasn’t family.
A number of Darcy’s officers and administrative staff had been in and out during the long night, waiting to find out whether their police chief would recover. The mayor had even supposedly stopped by, though Jordan had been in the cafeteria at the time, trying to find coffee while she called Carol to give her the news that they’d caught Ryland’s murderer.
According to Tom, a detective by the name of Bert Park had taken over the logistics of contacting Detective Drake. Drake had made arrangements to fly to town later today, to retrieve Ted and transport him to the L.A. County lockup, to be arraigned on murder charges. Tom had told Jordan that Drake had not been pleased to find out he’d been investigating the wrong person all along.
Jordan stretched. Closing her eyes, she rolled her neck to relax the muscles that were giving her a screaming headache. Or maybe it was the fatigue and the gallon of coffee she’d ingested in the last sixteen hours. She’d seen better dawns, that was for sure.
“You’ve been a pain in the ass from the very beginning.” Darcy’s voice cracked on the words, but they were lucid.