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Emmy chuckled. “I thought you might.”
“The Bad Samaritan works for Blackwood?”
“From time to time, and she’d dispute the terminology. She’s not keen on working for anyone.”
“You’re behind her antics in Baldwin’s Shore? The stalker she branded? The sniper shot? The Baldwin thing? Did you take my hundred bucks under false pretences?”
Emmy snorted. “No, that was all off her own bat. I merely gave her a call this afternoon and suggested that if she was in the vicinity, she might want to head in your direction sharpish.”
Emmy had also grounded Cesare’s jet at Medford, arranged a team of attorneys, and offered to medevac Addy to a specialist facility if that became necessary. So far, Addy was holding her own, still in surgery, but alive. Nico would cover any costs, of course, and he made sure the hospital knew she was to have the best care available. Deck had been interrogated briefly and released, sans “his” gun. As far as the cops were concerned, he was merely a bystander who’d stepped up to save Addy’s life and then Kaylin’s. Which was one of the few truths in this entire mess.
“The Bad Samaritan killed my father,” Nico said.
“It was just a job for her, nothing personal. But she got pretty fucking twitchy when you showed up in Oregon.”
“I don’t know why—she seems quite capable of looking after herself.”
“She is, but it was still tiring having to watch her back day in, day out. How’s Kaylin doing?”
“Holding it together, but terrified of going to prison.”
Thanks to the new pretrial release system in Oregon, Nico couldn’t simply pay an extortionate amount of bail money and take her home. No, because the great state of Virginia had charged her with murder and claimed that she’d fled from justice, she had to stay in custody until there was a court hearing.
Right now, she was handcuffed to a hospital bed, receiving treatment for a sprained ankle that probably didn’t warrant inpatient care, but it was the best Colt could do to keep her out of jail, and even that put him in a precarious position. Luca was barely speaking to Nico, blaming him for creating a situation that put Brooke in serious danger and left Addy fighting for her life. And Nico accepted that. He’d done what he thought was right, and it had backfired in a supernova of shit.
How much more was to come?
Luca hadn’t wanted Nico at the hospital, and the nurses kept giving him dirty looks when he asked about Kaylin and Addy. In the end, he’d been allowed to bring Matty back to the Peninsula at Kaylin’s request, but there would be questions about how much he knew. Had he aided and abetted a fugitive? The alleged crime had happened close to three thousand miles away, so he had plausible deniability—who kept track of every crime in the country?—and Kaylin would back him up on that. The attorneys would be having a great Christmas party this year.
“She won’t go to prison.”
“Innocent people go to prison all the time.”
“Being blunt, innocent poor people go to prison all the time. When it comes to the rich, you’re far more likely to find guilty people walking free. The evidence is circumstantial at best. So Kaylin’s prints were in the car? Big deal—it was her damn car. She got charged because skipping town made her look guilty as hell.”
“She didn’t skip town.”
“Yeah, and that’s what the lawyers will explain. Look, the cops are gonna tread carefully on this. The authorities in Virginia are still taking flak over the Vonnie Feinstein case, and if they lock up another innocent person, especially one who’s actually a victim and photographs well, the media’s gonna have a field day.”
“Kaylin doesn’t want her face splashed across the papers.”
“Trust me, the governor wants it even less. He’s up for re-election in November.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Fifty bucks says the judge gives her house arrest with a tag while the mess gets unravelled. It’ll help if she cries in court.”
She undoubtedly would, and the thought tore Nico’s heart in two. They should be enjoying their time with Matty in his house on the beach, not gearing up for another fight. And they’d have one, he didn’t doubt that.
“I’m not losing any more money to you. And I’m waiting for the Cavallaros to put in a claim for custody.”
“Daddy’s dead and Grandpa’s eating through a tube. Grandma’s enjoying her newfound freedom by shopping at Macy’s. Otello or Fausto might put in a claim out of principle, but the judge would have to be on crack to give them so much as visitation. Just relax and sit tight. Things look shit at the moment, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel. Are you getting the third degree about Cesare’s sad demise?”
“I’ve given one interview with my attorney present. He says it was a clear-cut case of self-defence.”
After the Bad Samaritan walked away, Nico had put the magazine back into Cesare’s gun, wrapped the man’s hand around the grip, and fired a couple of rounds. When he’d told the cops that Cesare had shot at him first, no one had questioned it. The storm washed away much of the forensic evidence, and maybe someone would start a new rumour about Emmy Black’s ability to control the weather.
“That’s what I’m hearing too. And they’ve got nothing on Decker Langdon.”
