“Really? And you actually believe that?” he shoots back. “You haven’t even stopped to think about this, have you, Oliver? The second you step back in that bank, you’re fired. Lapidus’ll bury you faster than you can say ‘professional embarrassment.’ And when you go to the police – even if you can avoid going to jail – even if you give back the money – you think they’re throwing you a victory parade? It’s still your signature on the original wire request. From that alone, your life is over. So now you’ve got no job, no money, and no one who’ll ever trust you again. Worst of all, by the time the lawsuits are done and all your savings are devoured, your mother’s not gonna be able to afford a spool of thread, much less the rest of her credit card and hospital bills. Who’s gonna pay those now, Oliver? And what about Charlie? How long you think he can survive without your help?”
As he says the words, I know he’s right. But that doesn’t mean I’m getting in bed with a viper and his-
“Nobody move!” a female voice shouts behind us.
Spinning around, we trace the sound to the warehouse door. There’s a woman with a gun. The investigator from the condo… the redhead… Joey… She points the gun straight at us – first at me, then at Shep.
Flushed with relief, I take a step toward her, away from Shep.
“I said, don’t move!” she shouts as I raise my hands in the air.
“It’s about time,” Shep says, sounding relieved. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
“Excuse me?” Joey asks.
I expect to see some recognition on her face. Shep’s alive – she’s smart enough to fill in the rest. But instead, she seems confused. “Who the hell are you?” she asks.
My arms go numb as they stretch toward the ceiling. I don’t believe it. She has no idea who he is.
“Me?” Shep asks with a crooked grin. He scratches at his forearms and lets out a deep, relaxed laugh. “I’m an investigator – just like you.”
“He’s lying,” I blurt. “It’s Shep!”
“Don’t let him fool you, Ms. Lemont…”
“How do you know my name?” Joey asks.
“I told you – I’ve been investigating this from the start. Call Henry Lapidus – he’ll explain everything.” As he says Lapidus’s name, there’s a new calmness in his voice. He reaches into his jacket…
“Don’t even think it!” Joey says.
“It’s not a gun, Ms. Lemont.” From his chest pocket, he pulls out a black leather wallet. “Here’s my ID,” he says, tossing it at Joey’s feet. She reaches down to pick it up, but never lets us out of her sight.
“I swear to you, Joey – his name is Shep Graves…”
“Ms. Lemont, don’t listen to him…”
“… he faked his death so they’d put the blame on us!”
She glances down at the ID, then slaps it shut.
“So you’re working with Lapidus?” Joey asks skeptically.
Shep nods.
“And he’ll back up your story?”
“Absolutely,” he croons.
I’m not sure if Shep’s bluffing, or if he’s got a whole new card trick up his sleeve. Either way, Joey’s come too far to leave without the truth.
“Noreen, are you there?” she says, speaking into the microphone that’s clipped to her shirt. Nodding to herself, she adds, “Get me Henry Lapidus.”
84
“Charlie…? Charlie, where are you?” Gillian whispered as she cut through the utility closet and stepped into the perpendicular hallway that connected to it. Kicking aside the Goofy head, she surveyed the hall and shoved her way past the knocked-over folding table. On her far left was the door that led outside. Not a chance, she thought. DeSanctis wouldn’t leave without telling them. A sharp scratching sound confirmed the rest. She spun around and followed the noise. Toward the back – beyond the laundry cart and the folding screen. She knew that one. Like someone running. Or hiding.
Scrambling up the hall, she kept an eye out for DeSanctis. He was still pissed about the blender to the head – but not enough to ruin it all, she decided as she slid past the folding screen. Still, better to stay quiet and figure out the lay of the-
Gillian stopped right there. From the floor to the tops of the costume racks, Minnie, Donald, Pluto, and dozens of other character heads stared back at her, each one with its own empty, frozen smile. Purposefully avoiding their glare, she cautiously stepped deeper into the room. “Hello…” she whispered again. “Anyone there?”
Again, no one answered. And then she realized why.
Straight ahead, at the end of the first aisle of costume racks, DeSanctis was facedown on the floor, his arms tied behind his back with what looked like a jump rope. Gillian couldn’t believe it. His nose was covered in blood; his left eye was swollen shut. He wasn’t moving. She nudged his shoulder with her foot, but it was like kicking a brick. Surprised, she squatted down for a better look. Was he -? No, she realized as she saw his chest rise and fall. Just unconscious.
There was another noise, this one from a few aisles over. Jarred by the sound, Gillian shot straight to her feet. But as she heard it again, she cracked a small grin. This sound was different than the first. Deeper. More guttural. Like someone breathing… or panting. Someone out of breath.
She glanced around and made her way across the back of the aisle. “Charlie!” she called out. “It’s me – it’s Gillian!”
The breathing stopped.
“Charlie – are you there!?”
Still no response.
She crossed over to the next aisle of costumes, then the next. Except for the colorful sequined outfits and a set of Chip ’n Dale costume heads, both aisles were empty.
“Charlie, I know you heard the gunshots – Oliver’s been hit!”
Again, nothing.
“He’s been shot, Charlie! He hit Gallo, and Gallo shot him in the thigh – if we don’t get him to a doctor -!”
“Gillian, this better not be bullshit,” a voice warned behind her.
She wheeled around as Charlie stepped out from the aisle she just passed. He held the broom in his right hand, and while he tried to put on a strong face, he was clearly wheezing with each breath. Between the running and the fighting, it was all too much. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He studied her carefully. Her hands were empty. Nothing out of place. “Just show me where Ollie is,” Charlie demanded. Turning his back to Gillian, he headed for the door – but before he could take a single step – there was a muffled click behind him.
Charlie froze mid-step.
“Sorry,” Gillian said as she aimed her gun behind him. “That’s what you get for trusting strangers.”
Refusing to face her, Charlie closed his eyes. He wasn’t going down without a fight. His fingers tightened around the broom – and Gillian’s tightened around the trigger. Charlie spun around as fast as he could. He wasn’t nearly fast enough.
85
Joey’s got her finger on the trigger, and her eyes on me and Shep, but she’s clearly focused on whatever’s coming out of her earpiece. My arms are up above my head, but I can still see my watch. It’s already past seven. Lapidus is in his car, on his way to Connecticut. There’s no way she’ll be able to-
“Hello, Mr. Lapidus?” she says into the microphone. “This is Joey calling… right, the private investi – No, we haven’t found the money yet… No, I understand, sir, but I have a quick question I was hoping you could help me with. Do you know anyone named…” She looks down at Shep’s ID. “… Kenneth Kerr?”
There’s a long pause as Joey listens. The longer it goes, the more she watches Shep. He doesn’t flinch. He thinks she’s bluffing. So as long as he stays calm, she can’t prove him wrong.
“No… I understand,” Joey says. “Of course, sir. No, I just wanted to be sure.”
She unhooks the cell phone from her belt and pulls out the earpiece. She’s got her gun in her right hand and the phone in her left. Holding the receiver out for Shep, she adds, “Lapidus wants to speak to you…”