Boiling Point (Phoenix, Ltd. Book 2) Page 24

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Do you think Lyman and Marian will be able to tell things have changed between us?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose that depends on us. Marian might pick up on something, but if Lyman’s mind is on GRAMPA, he wouldn’t notice if we shaved our heads. Besides, I wasn’t planning to walk into the kitchen and announce, ‘Hey, guess what? I slept with Zoë last night’.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know our relationship is new, and you’re sensitive about it, but I think they’d be happy for us, don’t you?”

  “I guess so.” She slipped out of his embrace. “But we’ve still got a job to do, so let’s go do it.”

  He grinned. “I believe I already suggested that.”

  She rolled her eyes then turned and headed down the stairs.

  As Zoë had suspected, Marian was already in the kitchen, fully dressed. She was struggling to grasp the rim of a small metal bowl with the tips the fingers on her right hand and whip something with a fork held in her left. Butter sizzled in an empty cast iron skillet on the stove. As soon as they walked in, she stopped mid-whip and turned with a look of mild disappointment. “Oh, you’re up. After your ordeal last night, I was hoping you’d sleep in. I wanted to surprise you.” She glanced at the bowl. “I’m trying to make an omelet, but it isn’t easy when you’ve only got one good hand.”

  Zoë smiled. “That’s sweet of you, but I couldn’t sleep any longer—too keyed up, I guess.”

  Marian heaved a sigh and nodded. “I understand. I was awake half the night. This old house can be so spooky sometimes. I kept thinking I heard strange noises from every corner.”

  “That was probably me. I couldn’t sleep, and the smell of smoky clothes was driving me crazy, so I did a load of laundry in the middle of the night.”

  Marian gave a little laugh. “I’m glad to know it wasn’t my imagination. What with squeaks on the stairs and pipes rattling in the basement, I was beginning to think I was losing my mind.”

  Zoë pulled a loaf of seven grain bread from the drawer. “Why don’t I take over breakfast? We’ll all feel better after we’ve eaten.”

  Nick reached above her to open the overhead cabinet. “In the interest of efficiency, I’ll set the table. It’s going to be a busy day. I expect the fire chief and Sergeant Lewis to stop by this morning with updates. And Lyman will want to contact your insurance company.” He shot a quick glance around the room. “Is he still in bed?”

  “Oh, no. He’s been up for ages. He went down to the basement a few minutes ago. He said he’d had an idea in the night for some new modification to GRAMPA.”

  The words had barely left her mouth when footsteps sounded on the basement stairs, and her husband appeared in the doorway with his hands raised in the air and a look of helpless apology on his face. He stepped into the kitchen, immediately followed by Jimmy Mahoney, who was holding an ugly black semi-automatic pistol pointed directly at Lyman’s back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Every nerve in Nick’s body jolted into full fight mode. What the hell was Jimmy Mahoney doing in the house?

  He shifted his weight until he felt the comforting jab of his Ruger in the small of his back. Thank God, he’d slipped it on with the rest of his clothes out of habit.

  Mahoney shoved Lyman farther into the room and waved his gun at the others, who stood together in the area between the sink and stove. “Everybody over there.” He motioned toward the breakfast alcove on the opposite side of the kitchen. “And get your hands in the air.”

  Nick raised his hands and began walking. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the women. If Mahoney forced him to draw his weapon, he needed Marian and Zoë out of the way.

  Zoë, however, ignored Jimmy’s instructions, grabbed a dish towel, and reached for the handle of the frying pan, where the melted butter had started to smoke. “I’ll just take care of this before we have another fire.”

  Mahoney acknowledged her with a dismissive grunt then turned to face Marian, but Nick’s gaze darted between Zoë and the gunman. Something furtive about her body language caught his attention. Instead of setting the skillet on a cool burner or in the sink, she slowly lowered the heavy pan to her side, keeping a firm grip on the handle. When she glanced across Marian’s shoulder at Nick, she dipped her chin in a tiny nod.

  Jimmy’s anxious gaze bounced from one to the next before settling on Marian. Anger tinged with fear distorted his fox-like features as he waved the gun at her again. “Get over there. Move. Now.” For emphasis, he poked Lyman in the back, causing him to stumble.

  Marian had been standing frozen, bowl and fork forgotten, staring at her ex-husband. When he pushed Lyman, she came to life and advanced toward him with the fork clutched in her left hand and fury radiating from her petite, rounded figure. “I’ll do no such thing, Jimmy Mahoney. Don’t you try to order me around. You should have run as far as you could when you had the chance.”

  “I’m here to get what’s mine.”

  Marian scowled without a hint of fear. “Nothing here belongs to you. Have you completely lost your mind? Put that gun down.”

  “He set the fire,” Nick said.

  Lyman dropped his hands in surprise. “I thought Victor Watanabe set the fire.”

  Nick stared into Mahoney’s eyes and saw burgeoning panic. “No. Mahoney set the fire. Watanabe was trying to put it out.”

  Lyman turned his head with a confused frown. “But why? And what do you want from us now?”

  Mahoney gave him a vicious jab in the ribs with the pistol. “Turn around and get your hands up.”

  Lyman obeyed grudgingly. “I don’t understand. What could you hope to gain by setting the garage on fire?”

  “It was a diversion to get into the house, and it worked. At the first sign of flames, everybody ran outside.” Mahoney’s sharp features twisted into a parody of a condescending smile. “Not one of you noticed when I snuck around the side of the house and came in through the unlocked kitchen door.”

  “Why didn’t you take what you wanted and get out while everyone was distracted?”

  Mahoney’s smile faded. “I couldn’t find what I was looking for. You really hid them good after I was here before.”

  “That was you in the cellar with the gun, wasn’t it?” Marian’s eyes narrowed. “I suspected as much, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.”

  “Believe it.” Jimmy’s mouth turned down in disgust. “I’ve spent way too much time in that moldy cave. I searched half the night for those damned plans, and I’ve been sitting down there for hours, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for your fool of a husband to show up.”

  Lyman’s brow furrowed, but he maintained his position with his back to his captor. “You were still after the plans for GRAMPA? What good would they do you now? Ichiro Electronics dropped their bid after my final refusal.”

  “If they won’t buy the plans, I’ll sell them to someone else.” Mahoney’s words were tight and rushed. “Or better yet, you can just give me the money. I lost everything when I went to prison.” He turned on Marian with a snarl. “You owe me…big time.”

  She pressed her lips together and brandished the fork as if it were a sword. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve been terrorizing my family for weeks. You’ve tried to kill both Lyman and me with your stupid motorcycle, and yesterday you nearly burned Zoë to death. I don’t owe you a thing.”

  “It’s your fault I went to prison.”

  “That was your own fault, yours and Rudy’s,” she shot back.

  “You turned me in.”

  She glared at him and aimed the fork at his face. A couple of feet closer, and she could have poked him in the eye. “I did no such thing. Although I would have if I’d known what you were up to.”

  “You were my wife. You testified against me at the trial.”

  “I told them what I knew, which wasn’t mu
ch.”

  “You could have refused to talk. They couldn’t make you. We were married.”

  “Maybe I could have refused, but by that time I was completely disgusted by what you’d done and wanted you out of my life. I still do.”

  Mahoney gave his ex a swift, assessing glance and dropped the threat from his voice. “I did it for you, baby…for us. I just wanted to give you the best of everything. That’s all I ever wanted.”

  Marian stiffened her back. “Do you honestly think for one minute that pathetic, wheedling tone will get you anywhere?”

  His upper lip curled. “I know you can’t love this spineless pansy.” He poked Lyman again for emphasis. “There’s got to be a pot full of money somewhere in this creepy old dump. If you get it, we’ll run away together, and I’ll remind you what a real man is like.”

  She gaped at him as if he’d suggested they hop a rocket ship to Mars. “I’m eight-and-a-half months pregnant, you idiot! Besides, I wouldn’t walk across the street with you.”

  Mahoney dropped all pretense of persuasion and scowled. “If you want to keep your precious husband alive, you’ll do what I say.”

  A cold fist squeezed Nick’s heart when Marian marched forward, elbowing Lyman out of the way, and forced herself between her husband and Mahoney’s gun.

  Lyman’s eyes rounded in horror, and he reached for her arm “Marian, what are you—?”

  She jerked it from his grasp. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to shoot me. Are you, Jimmy?”

  “I will if you make me.” But he eased back a half step.

  Nick moved his right hand to the small of his back, pushed his shirt up, and rested his fingers on the butt of his weapon. At the same time, Zoë inched toward Jimmy until she stopped about three feet behind him, still grasping the handle of the heavy cast iron skillet.

  She was in the perfect position to attack from behind. She was also much too close to Nick’s line of fire. Suddenly, he was back in the alley in Detroit with Maureen’s pale face staring at him in the darkness. Sweat broke across his upper lip.

  Don’t go there. It will only mess with your head. Just concentrate. Everything will be okay.

  He took a deep breath, focused his gaze, and flexed his right hand to relax the tight muscles.

  Lyman grabbed his wife’s shoulders. “Marian, stop!”

  She ignored him and pinned Jimmy with a furious glare. “I’ve had it up to here with you.” She tapped cast against her forehead. “I’m sick to death of worrying about what you might do next. You are going to walk out the door this minute and never come back. Go as far away as you can. I never want to see your face or hear your name again. Do you understand?”

  Jimmy brandished his gun with a smirk. “Do you think I’m afraid of you? I’m not leaving this house without every damned cent you’ve got.”

  Marian narrowed her eyes. “That does it.”

  She drew her foot back and kicked him in the shin just above the top of his boot with enough force to knock them both off balance. Lyman’s arms flew around her to keep her from falling, while Mahoney flung his arms wide as he struggled to regain his footing.

  Nick rushed forward, drawing his weapon. But before he reached his target, Zoë raised the skillet with both hands and swung it into Mahoney’s wrist. The nauseating sound of iron hitting bone reverberated through the room. Jimmy screamed, dropped his gun, and crumpled to the floor. Before he could grab his weapon again, she spun it out of reach with the toe of her boot.

  Nick was on him in a flash, shoving Mahoney onto his face and pinning him to the floor with a knee in the middle of his back. Mahoney groaned and thrashed, but Nick grabbed both his arms and jerked them behind him.

  Jimmy let loose a blood-curdling scream. “My wrist!”

  Nick adjusted his grip from the man’s wrist to his forearm but didn’t loosen his hold. He glanced up at Lyman, who had his arms wrapped protectively around Marian. “I don’t suppose you have any zip ties in your workshop.”

  Lyman shook his head. “There might have been some in the garage with the gardening supplies, but I’m sure they melted in the fire.”

  Zoë returned the frying pan to the stove and bent down to pick up Jimmy’s gun. “I’ve got a set of cuffs in my purse.” She skirted the felon sprawled on the floor and retrieved her bag from the kitchen table, where she’d left it the night before.

  Marian’s eyes rounded. “You keep handcuffs in your purse?”

  Nick wondered if she was surprised or impressed—probably a little of both.

  Zoë produced the cuffs. “You never know when you’re going to need them.”

  She handed them to him, and he snapped them around Mahoney’s wrists. “If you don’t want these to hurt like hell,” he told the man, “I suggest you remain still.”

  “I need a doctor.” Jimmy turned his head to glare at Zoë. “She broke my freaking wrist.”

  “Shut up.” Nick pushed to his feet. “You’re lucky she didn’t break your freaking head.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and glanced from Lyman, to Marian, to Zoë. “Is everyone okay? Anyone besides this moron need medical attention?”

  Zoë shook her head. “I’m good.”

  Lyman kept his death grip on his wife. “We’re fine.”

  Nick called nine-one-one, described the situation, and requested police and an ambulance. When he finished, he slid his phone back in his pocket. “They’re on the way. It shouldn’t be long.”

  Zoë slipped her arm around his waist and gave it a quick squeeze. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use some coffee.”

  Marian sighed. “That sounds like heaven. Count me in.”

  Before the coffee was ready, the ambulance driver buzzed from the front gate speaker. Lyman let them in and went to unlock the front door. He returned to the kitchen, followed by the two paramedics, Kenny Zolnicki, and Sergeant Lewis.

  The senior paramedic greeted the gathering in the kitchen with a big smile. “You folks are getting to be regulars. I’m glad to see none of you needs our help today.” She approached Jimmy and squatted beside his head. “Can you walk, son, or do we need the gurney?”

  “I can walk,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Just get me up. But be careful—she broke my freaking wrist.”

  The woman glanced at Marian in surprise. “You did that, hon?”

  Zoë stepped forward. “No. That would be me.”

  The paramedic nodded then signaled to her partner, and the two hoisted Jimmy to his feet, keeping a strong grip on each arm but taking care not to move his right wrist.

  Kenny stepped forward and took the woman’s place, wrapping his fingers tightly around Mahoney’s left biceps. “This man is under arrest. I’ll accompany him to the hospital.”

  She nodded. “Fine with me. Let’s go.” She led the way, followed by Kenny and her partner, half-dragging Mahoney between them.

  Sergeant Lewis pulled off his gloves and unbuttoned his overcoat. “Mr. Prescott, I’m sure this has been quite a shock, but I’d like to ask each of you some questions while the incident is still fresh in your minds.”

  Lyman nodded. “Of course.”

  Marian extricated herself from his grasp and gestured to the kitchen table. “Please sit down. We were about to have coffee. Would you like a cup?”

  Lewis smiled and pulled his notebook and pen from his inside jacket pocket. “Thanks. I missed my second cup. We don’t often get armed break-ins this early.”

  Marian eased her bulk into her usual seat. “Technically, it wasn’t a break-in. According to Jimmy, he snuck in through an unlocked door during the fire and spent the night in the basement.”

  The sergeant settled beside her as Nick and Lyman took their seats, and Zoë poured coffee into five cups. “Why don’t we start at the beginning with the fire yesterday afternoon?”

  He questioned each in turn until he seemed satisfied he had all the facts then closed his notebook and rose to button his coat. “Thank you for your help. I�
�ll be in touch if we have any further questions.”

  Lyman pushed back from the table. “Sergeant, do you think this nightmare is finally over? Can we go back to our normal lives?”

  “I hesitate to answer until we’ve completed our investigation, but barring any surprises, we appear to have all the potential culprits in custody.” Lewis turned to Marian. “And I want to assure you we’ll take extra precautions to keep them there.”

  She gave him a weary smile. “Thank you. I’m pretty tired of all this excitement.”

  He pulled on his gloves. “So are we, Mrs. Prescott. So are we.”

  Lyman saw him out then returned to the kitchen. Zoë had topped off their coffee cups and was pouring fresh egg mixture into a clean skillet. He walked up behind his wife’s chair, leaned over to wrap his arms around her, and nuzzled her hair. “You’re one of a kind, Marian Prescott. Do you know that? You scared me to death this morning, but you were magnificent.”

  “I was, wasn’t I?” She grinned. “Well, we all have our limits, and Jimmy finally pushed me over mine.”

  Lyman chuckled. “Remind me never to do that.”

  He moved his hands to Marian’s shoulders, and she placed her own over them with a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry. You’re in no danger. You’re the sweetest, most considerate man I’ve ever known. Now sit down, and let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  On cue, Zoë appeared at the table with a steaming plate in each hand. “Not for long.” She set a plate in front of each of the Prescotts then returned with two more.

  Nick surveyed the whole wheat toast with jam and a cheese omelet in front of him, surprised at his sudden hunger. Food had been the last thing on his mind for…what? He glanced at the clock on the stove. Had it really been only two hours since he’d been snuggling naked in bed with Zoë?

  There was still too much cop in him to relax completely until Mahoney was safely locked away in a federal prison, but that could take months—or even years. In the meantime, he needed to make some changes. No matter what excuses he’d tried to make about coming home and starting over, it was time to admit he’d spent a large part of the past year hiding—mostly from himself. Now he needed to move forward, get a handle on his life, and start living again.