Irrevocable Trust (Sasha McCandless Legal Thriller Book 6) (34 page)

Her eyes were dilated with fear but she kept her breathing under control.

“
Thanks. Lucky for Big Gun he
’
s wearing one, too,
”
she said.

He kept the gun snug by her ear while he turned to check on Pulaski.

Crap.
It was true. He
’
d clearly had the wind knocked out of him by the force of the shots, but he was very much alive. He
’
d probably have a bruised sternum, but no other damage.

Anger bloomed in his chest.

Connelly and Richardson raced through the doorway and skidded to a stop. Their guns were drawn, both aimed squarely at Bricker.

“
How?
”
Connelly asked.

“
He was in the wardrobe.
”
McCandless
’
voice was even, calm.

Richardson shook his head.

“
Unbelievable. The local PD didn
’
t sweep the building?
”

“
Uh, maybe we could dissect this thing later?
”
McCandless suggested.

“
Sorry.
”

“
It
’
s okay. I
’
m okay. It
’
s Captain Bricker here who has the problem. He wanted to kill Andy, but that vest did its job. So, now what
’
s he do? Shoot Andy through the head? Solves his problem, but he knows you two will drop him like a load of bricks if he does. Quite a quandary.
”

“
Shut up.
”
He jabbed her in the head with the gun
’
s muzzle. He was sure it was still hot.
Good.

Pulaski lifted his head and stared at Bricker with wide owl eyes, unblinking and terrified.

“
Please don
’
t,
”
he begged.

McCandless acted as if nothing was amiss.

“
You should make a decision soon. I
’
m sure Hank radioed the agents as soon as he heard shots fired. No doubt as soon as they finish up their mozzarella sticks or riblets or whatever, they
’
ll be breaking down the door.
”

Bravado
.
Covering up her terror.

“
No decision needed. Pulaski
’
s inconsequential, either way. You? You
’
re my ticket out of here. Then, when we
’
re clear of danger, I can waste you. Leave you somewhere to rot, so lover boy can find you and give you a proper burial. If I
’
m feeling charitable. Or maybe I
’
ll dismember you and make it a challenge.
”

Connelly charged forward. Richardson stuck out an arm and held him back.

“
Leo, no,
”
the older man rumbled.

Bricker laughed.

“
Coming through.
”

He pulled McCandless toward the doorway.

“
Connelly, listen to me
—
stay calm,
”
she pleaded.

“
I love you, baby,
”
he answered.

Bricker was preparing to mock the exchange when suddenly his thigh exploded into a hot, wet fireball.

“
Wha
—
?!
”

His vision swam, and his knees buckled.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sasha waited for her moment. When Connelly attempted to charge Bricker, she knew she had her opening. Bricker was distracted by Hank and Connelly. She yanked the knife from its holder and drove it like a spear into Bricker
’
s upper thigh, not stopping until she hit bone.

He wobbled on his feet and tightened his grip on the gun, but he was too late. She
’
d already wrapped her hands around the barrel.

In a motion she
’
d once used to disarm her husband, she moved her right hand to the base of the grip and twisted until she heard the bones in Bricker
’
s fingers cracking and splintering.

And just like that, she had control of the gun.

She jammed it into his forehead, right between his eyes.

His bladder gave way and a large wet spot spread across the front of his trousers.

She glanced at Connelly and Hank, who were both still frozen in the doorway.

“
Does somebody want to help me out here, or should I just shoot him?
”

Hank blinked and sprang into action. He pushed Bricker against the wall and started Mirandizing him.

Connelly gently took the gun out of her hands and pulled her against his chest.

“
It
’
s over,
”
he breathed.

CHAPTER FORTY

Sasha snuggled closer to Connelly. Upstairs, the house was quiet. The half-dozen Bennett children were curled up in a half-dozen beds, snoring softly or
—
in the case of the two littlest
—
drooling onto their pillows, facedown with their bottoms in the air.

Even Cole had drifted off to sleep, sheer exhaustion overriding the adrenaline that had followed his encounter with his father. She
’
d popped her head in to check on him earlier. He was sound asleep, with Java burrowed into his armpit as if the cat could tell he needed a companion.

She murmured, a content purr in the back of her throat, and reached across the couch for her wine glass. Connelly shifted his arm and handed it to her.

“
Thanks.
”

He stroked her hair in response.

She took a sip of the Argentinian red and tried not to notice how close its ruby color was to the blood that had squirted from Bricker
’
s thigh.

“
You
’
re quiet,
”
she observed.

He moved sideways so he could face her full on and said,
“
I
’
m overwhelmed. I
’
m afraid if I talk, I
’
ll start to cry. I almost lost you.
”

She shook her head.
“
Don
’
t say that.
”

“
It
’
s true, Sasha.
”

“
But it
’
s over. He
’
s in custody. We don
’
t have to look over our shoulders any more. Every bump in the night isn
’
t going to make us sit up with our hearts in our throats. He
’
s going back to prison, Connelly. For a very long time. We
’
re safe.
”

Hank had seen to it that Bricker was transported directly to the Florence Supermax in Colorado. There wasn
’
t a federal prison in the country with a higher level of security.

Connelly
’
s eyes were sad.

“
I know. I just
…”
he trailed off and pulled her against him, jostling her wine glass.

She rested it on the table and placed her hands on his chest.

“
Shhh,
”
she said.

They sat like that for a very long time.

The television played softly
—
a breathless Maisy informed the late-night news viewers of the day
’
s stunning events, culminating in the daring capture of a dangerous fugitive.

Sasha glanced up to see the footage of Connelly walking her out of Pulaski
’
s office, shielding her from the cameras with his broad shoulders.

Then Hank
’
s face filled the screen, all-business and serious, as he answered Maisy
’
s questions with the artful non-answers that marked him as a federal agent.

Finally, Pulaski came into view, gesticulating wildly as he inflated his role in the day
’
s events to mythical proportions.

“
Hey, this is it,
”
Sasha said with a giggle as she grabbed the remote to turn up the volume in time to hear Pulaski proclaim
…

“…
is why you can be confident that Big Gun Pulaski will dispatch your ex
’
s support modification request with same fierceness used to dispatch murderous felons.
”
Pulaski looked straight into the camera and nodded firmly.

“
So, in other words, he
’
ll pee himself?
”
Connelly asked.

“
That was Bricker,
”
she reminded him.

They laughed together then, a real laugh that came from somewhere deep within and drove away the residual anxiety and worry that were lingering between them.

After a moment, Sasha spoke again.
“
The kids are going to need permanent guardians.
”

“
Yes.
”

“
I don
’
t know about adoption
—
that
’
s still down the road a way
—
but we should put in papers with Judge Kumpar offering to serve in that capacity.
”

Connelly sat up straighter.

“
Do you mean it?
”
he asked.

“
Yes.
”

“
You
’
re sure?
”

He searched her face.

She cupped his cheeks with her hands, hoping they were steadier than they felt.

“
Take yes for an answer, Connelly.
”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

One week later

“
All rise. The Honorable Abhinav Kumpar presiding.
”

Sasha stood between Marsh and Will, waiting for the judge to take his seat and wondering if the butterflies swirling around in her stomach planned to settle down any time soon.

“
Good morning.
”

“
Good morning, Your Honor.
”

“
Be seated. Quite an entourage you have, Ms. McCandless,
”
the judge gestured toward the front row of the gallery, where Connelly, Hank, Naya, and all six kids were squeezed in, shoulder to shoulder.

She glanced back at the squeaky clean faces and spotless outfits. She
’
d been awake since five thirty, brushing hair, ironing shirts, and matching socks.

“
Your chambers called and said to bring all the Bennett children, Your Honor.
”

And Naya and Hank had insisted on coming along.

Connelly spent the better part of his morning jamming booster seats into cars and working out a caravan system that would transport the ten of them to the courthouse. Marsh wisely opted to meet them there.

She figured going forward they should just budget an extra two hours to get anywhere.

“
Indeed. So, you
’
re the Bennetts?
”
the judge smiled at the assembled kids.

“
Yes, sir,
”
Cole answered in a booming voice. A chorus of
“
yeses
”
followed.

“
And this is our Uncle Hank!
”
Calla added, tugging on Hank
’
s sleeve. She was sitting on his lap, her princess braid tucked over her shoulder.