Justification for Murder (24 page)

Darcy reached the door and rushed in, his Glock ready and straight in front of him. He went through another empty room, opened a door and walked into a large space. He saw Gigi. She was on the floor, facedown. The trail of blood matching the color of her dress. She’d tried crawling away from Stepan. Darcy did a swift check around the room and, not seeing anybody, he ran to her. He got on his knees and checked her vitals. They were barely there but she was still alive.

“I got you. I got you,” he said and turned her around.

She had several stab wounds and they were all squirting blood as her heart pumped. He took his jacket off and tried to apply pressure, but there were too many gashes to cover with just two hands.

“We need a bus right now,” he yelled on the radio right before something hit his head so hard everything went white in front of him.

He flung over Gigi’s body and fell sideways on the floor. He shook his head to force himself to focus. Stepan walked over the girl and kicked him again, this time in the stomach. Darcy felt his gut split in two and reached for his gun but only found an empty holster. He froze. Looking back at Gigi he saw his Glock lying next to her. It was too far away for him to reach or even do a run for.

Stepan kicked him again, but Darcy saw it coming and moved away, making his attacker lose his balance. Darcy returned the kick, hitting Stepan’s knee. He grunted and fell but quickly moved on top of Darcy and punched him in the face. Darcy tried to throw him off, but Stepan outweighed him by at least thirty pounds.

Darcy threw an uppercut. It wasn’t as strong as it would have been if he had been standing, but it produced enough of a sting for Darcy to slide away from under him. Before he could get up, Stepan stabbed him in the thigh. Darcy screamed. Still on his knees, he kicked Stepan with the other leg, but the impact was weak, as his stabbed leg was hurting too much to be used as an anchor.

Stepan rolled to his side, kicking Darcy back to the ground as he moved. Darcy landed on his back and before he could move, Stepan crawled on top of him again. Darcy threw a hook, trying to hit the arm with the knife. There was contact and the arm flew backward, but Stepan was able to recover quickly enough and thrust his elbow into Darcy’s sternum. Darcy stopped breathing for several seconds. His eyes bulged and stared at a knife that was over him, about to end his life.

Darcy heard cars and sirens closing in. “Lynch, you there?” he heard somebody ask from outside. Finally the noise of many more bodies coming into the warehouse overpowered the sound of his own thumping heart. He locked eyes with Stepan. There was rage in them, but there was also indifference. He was still on top of Darcy.

“Drop your weapon!” Somebody shouted.

He started lowering the knife as if he was going to put it down. Then, with the fastest move Darcy had ever seen, Stepan lowered the knife to his face and stabbed his left eye.

As soon as the blade punctured it, he pulled it out, dropping the knife on the floor as a bullet entered his shoulder pushing him off of Darcy.

At first Darcy didn’t feel any pain. He just stopped seeing. His good eye had closed, as if trying to protect itself. His now-empty eye socket flooded with blood. Then the pain started. It was an acute sting that grew more severe with each second, until the agony almost made him pass out. He felt somebody come by his side. Darcy started to scream as he rolled over in a fetal position pressing his hands where the eye had been. He never heard what they asked him. All he could think about was how the blood seeping through his fingers was nothing compared with the blood leaving Gigi’s body.

S
affron realized she was holding her knees so hard that her arms were starting to hurt and her legs were going numb. She let go and put her feet back on the floor in front of her. Darcy seemed to be in a trance, his good eye staring into empty space, recalling the past. He rubbed his left temple up and down slowly. He was silent for a few seconds. Saffron poured more wine.

“What happened next?”

He looked at her as if she had asked something in a foreign language.

“They did shoot Stepan right after he took my eye out, but they didn’t kill him.”

“Pity.”

“Yeah. His full name is Stepan Kozlov. He’ll be in prison for a while. He ended up being convicted in relation to the arms-trafficking ring also, so that was a good break in that case. He gave up a bunch of information in exchange for a lesser charge and a reduced sentence.”

Darcy didn’t say anything, but she could tell he felt betrayed.

“Is that why you left Seattle?”

“No. I was just tired of the rain.” His smile was a little forced. Then his facial muscles relaxed and he continued: “Yeah, that’s partially why I left. I was out a few weeks, then I had to do some physical therapy to recover from the leg wound and even more to be able to partially function with just one eye. They wanted to give me early retirement, but I couldn’t take it.” He shook his head. “I probably should have.”

Saffron raised her glass and toasted: “For being alive after a close call.”

He clinked her glass. “I’ll definitely toast to that.”

She was not sure she should ask, but she had to know. “What happened to Gigi?”

His eye darkened and his stare got lost somewhere inside his wine glass.

“She never made it to the hospital. He’d stabbed her seventeen times.”

“Did he ever say why?”

“The asshole planned on killing her all along. When they were in the bathroom at the club she heard that douche bag talk about the weapons and then saw his face. The only reason he didn’t do it earlier was because he wanted to ‘play with her first,’ as he put it.” He spat the words. “He never even suspected her of collaborating with the police.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said and put her hand on his forearm. His skin was warm. She left her hand there.

He looked up at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt butterflies flutter in her stomach. Darcy passed his hand over her long hair. She closed her eyes, a sense of peace overcoming her body.

She sighed, slowly, silently, and opened her eyes. He was looking intently at her, his lips full and slightly parted. Her heart started thumping inside her rib cage, but she fought the urge to leap over the few inches that separated them.

But he did. He leaned closer and kissed her. The kiss was soft and inviting. She teased his upper lip with the tip of her tongue. He pulled her closer to him.

The phone rang. She ignored it. He did too. They kissed again, teasing each other’s tongues. As soon as the rings ceased, it started again.

“I think it’s work.” He said.

“I don’t hear anything.” She breathed onto his neck.

“I don’t either,” he said, leaning on top of her.

She scratched his back over the shirt and pushed herself up onto him. She could feel how hard he was against her.

The phone rang again.

“Shit. Let me just take it,” he said, almost breathless. “It could be a break in the case.”

She moaned in disappointment but let him go.

“This better be good,” he said into the handset.

“Detective Lynch, Officer Bush here.” After a few seconds of silence he continued, “We wanted to confirm that Ms. Meadows is with you.”

“She is. Why?”

“We drove by her apartment, just to check, and there’s somebody in there. We saw a light come on.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

Saffron’s eyes opened wide.

“What?” she asked, knowing the evening was over.

“Somebody’s in your apartment. I’m going to check it out.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You said you’re not going to leave me alone tonight. I can’t be alone.”

“But you are here, and you have Dog.”

“Don’t call her that. I’m coming.”

She got off the sofa and was halfway to the door by the time he managed to adjust his pants and tuck his shirt back in.

He drove in silence, and she was too self-conscious to talk about what had just happened but also upset it had ended so quickly. Saffron tried to avoid thinking about who might be in her place. She thought her nightmare was over when Harper Johnson killed himself, but thinking that was surely naïve.

She fought an urge to put her hand on Darcy’s thigh. She wanted—needed—some human contact, some sense of feeling protected. Instead, she hugged herself.

“Do you think the person in my house is there to kill me too?”

“I’m not going to let that happen.”

“But do you think somebody’s still out there trying to kill me?”

“We don’t know. There are still too many open questions.”

When they got to her complex, they found the patrol car parked to the side of the main building, outside the line of vision from Saffron’s apartment. Sergeant Russell and Officer Bush were standing watching Saffron’s lit window. They told Lynch that they hadn’t seen any more activity but the light was still on. He thanked them and asked if they could stay a little longer for backup. They agreed.

“Stay here,” he said to Saffron.

“No way. I need to see this asshole’s face.”

He shook his head. “Fine, but you stay behind me the whole time. And when I go into your place, you do
not
enter until I tell you it’s okay to do so.”

“Deal.”

They went up via the stairs. Saffron’s heart was beating so hard she could hear it. About ten feet from her front door, he paused and pulled his Glock from his holster and pointed it to the ground. When they reached the front door, he opened his free hand, as if waiting for her to drop something in it. She gave him the keys, and he unlocked the door as silently as he could. He raised the gun and opened the door in one hard push. The door slammed against the entry closet with a loud thump.

There was a man sitting on the sofa.

“Freeze! Put your hands where I can see them!” Darcy yelled.

The man dropped the popcorn bowl on the floor, Cat jumped from his lap, and Saffron asked, “Ranjan?”

S
affron pushed through the door, passed Darcy and put her hands on her hips. Before she could say anything, Darcy holstered his gun and asked, “You live together?”

“No,” she said, blushing a little and not looking back at him. “But he has a key.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Ranjan asked, walking toward them.

Darcy called in the patrol officers to tell them everything was okay and they could leave the premises. Saffron wasn’t saying a word or moving from where she stood.

“Who are you?” Ranjan said to Darcy. He looked as if he had been sucked into the Twilight Zone.

“I’m Detective Lynch. We’ve met. I interviewed you and your uncle after your accident.”

“Oh. Right.” He showed recognition for a second and then looked confused again. “Why is he here?” he asked Saffron.

She crossed her arms and took a step backwards. Then she sighed loudly and said, “Somebody’s been trying to kill me.”

“What? Why?” He now looked more confused than ever.

“Detective Lynch has been trying to find that out.”

“Saffron, I think we need to go.”

“Go where? Where are you trying to take her?” Ranjan moved past Saffron and faced Lynch.

Saffron turned around. Nobody spoke for a few seconds. The two men stared at each other. Saffron thought about walking by Ranjan and leaving with Darcy, but her feet were planted on the floor.

“Saffron?”

She heard Darcy’s voice. It was deep, raspy, as if he had been talking a long time. She wanted to go back to his place. Go back to half an hour ago, when she had been in his arms, kissing him. Ranjan turned and took her hand. She almost jumped. She shook it off and shoved both hands in her jeans pockets.

“I can take care of her,” Ranjan said to Darcy. “You can go now.”

He scoffed audibly. Saffron almost smiled. She saw Ranjan’s chest fill up as if he were a peacock ready to fight.

“It’s okay,” she finally said to Darcy. “I’ll call you later.”

He hesitated. “You want to stay?”

She nodded. He turned around and left without looking back.

“I’ll call you in a little bit,” she repeated.

She regretted not leaving with him, but she needed to stay.

Ranjan closed the door, as if he were severing a tie between Saffron and Darcy he didn’t want to think about.

“I love you, Saffron.” He hugged her. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her hands were still deep in her pockets. She pushed herself away from him and walked to the sofa, stepping on the popcorn salting the floor. Cat jumped on her lap and purred and sniffed her hands, probably smelling Darcy’s new dog. Ranjan sat by her, a little too close. She moved further away. He noticed and put a hand on her shoulder, as if trying to regain some of the intimacy they’d lost.

“Please don’t,” she said and twisted her body enough for his hand to slip away. “Why aren’t you with your uncle? Why aren’t you with one of those women?”

“They don’t mean anything to me, can’t you see that?”

He tried touching her but once again she moved away.

“We’re done, Ranjan. You had your chance and you chose to make your family happy.”

“Saffron, do you remember when your brother invited us to dinner a few months ago?”

She nodded, grossed out already that he could even compare that situation to his. He went on, ignoring her facial expression.

“He was nervous through the entire meal and finally, when we got dessert, he blurted out that he was going to go through the sex change.”

“What the hell does this have to do with anything?”

She set Cat to the side, turned to face him and crossed her legs to create some extra distance between them.

“He was really worried that you would judge him.”

“I’d never do that.”

“But he was still worried. And then he wanted you to break it to your parents, because he couldn’t do it, even though he’s your older brother.”

“Sean’s my younger brother,” she said, shaking her head, disappointed he couldn’t even remember that. “What’s your point, Ranjan?”

“All I’m trying to say is that it’s really hard to tell something to a parent who expects something different from you. I know your parents weren’t happy about Sean’s decision, but they’re still supportive.”

“Of course they were.”

“Well, that’s the difference between you and me. My family can’t imagine how I could be in love with somebody who’s not from our culture, who doesn’t understand or follow our conventions. They don’t understand how it could ever work with somebody who is not Hindu.”

She didn’t look at him. Her face was frozen, with tight jaw muscles.

“I had to make my uncle believe that I was trying. Once I did, I could then talk to my family and convince them that you are the one I love.”

He grabbed her left foot and pulled it toward him. Once she stopped fighting him, he started massaging it.