Truth & Tenderness (25 page)

But he’d forgotten that Tripp wasn’t just an old case, evidence in a report. He was an unstable man who lived in the present, who had had an accomplice all this time, who had a plan he’d been counting on to make him money.

What would he do if cornered?

And the answer to that was… trash Bennett’s offices. Which made no sense. Which fit none of his patterns. Unless it was the first step.

The dark sedan outside his house.

Tripp wanted to get to him.

Jim inhaled, exhaled, tightening his hold on Griffin as he felt the gun shift in the holster under his arm.

M
ATT
DRANK
a bottle of water at the counter of the quiet beach house, lost in thought. He remembered being here for Sadie’s christening, when everything felt breezy and light, like the happy vibe would never end.

He flipped through his phone, looking for pictures he’d taken that weekend, wanting to punish himself a little more.

Before he could find anything, the phone vibrated.

“Jim?”

“Yeah, we’re on our way.”

Matt pushed off from the counter, wandering to the edge of light in the kitchen, then back to look outside through the patio doors. “Everything okay?”

“Seems like it.” Short, clipped.

Matt waited for him to spit it out.

“Why are we assuming Tripp’s in Toronto?”

“Because he’s a serial killer but he understands extradition law?”

Jim’s voice was low. “Why did he fly down to talk to Alex himself? Why not send Tracey? Why not hire somebody?”

Matt leaned against the patio doors. Inky black darkness pressed back. “He doesn’t have any money.”

“Right. Except for what Tracey’s friends are slipping her, thinking she’s on the run from her crazy husband. That means he’s doing the heavy lifting himself.”

“He did the break-in.”

Jim made a rough sound of frustration. Matt could hear murmuring next to him as he assumed Griffin woke up.

When Jim didn’t respond, Matt kicked the wooden panel at the bottom of the door. “He was outside your house.”

Still nothing.

“You fucked up his plan.”

Matt could hear Jim breathing now, could feel his own heart picking up speed.

He couldn’t stand there waiting for something to happen. He went back across the kitchen, heading for the laptop in the surveillance room. “You think they rented a car?” he asked, trying to distract Jim—and to keep himself from going crazy waiting for them to show up. Then he was logging in to some databases he had no business being in.

“He won’t use his name.”

“She might.”

And then something poked Matt in the back of the head. It was Evan, bitching about the bitching from the community board president about the parking situation. Despite the gravity of the situation, Matt started to laugh.

“What?” Jim whispered.

“Parking tickets. The rental company would have had to give her information to the PD if she got a ticket. Give me a few minutes—I’ll call you back.”

Matt two-finger pecked out Tracey’s name in the little white box of the database he wasn’t supposed to access. “Come on, sweetheart, where are you?”

A record popped up.

“Two weeks ago in—”
Bingo
. Matt sucked in his breath as he one-handedly redialed Jim’s number. He heard a click on the other end and started talking. “Goddammit. She got a parking ticket right in front of Bennett’s apartment building.” He scrolled down. “Oh shit. A few days ago in Hampton Bay. That’s only about a half hour from here.”

Jim didn’t say anything.

“Jim? Did you hear me? You need to turn around, head back to the city.” He heard nothing in response. “Jim?”

When Matt checked the screen, he saw the call had been dropped.

E
VAN
WOKE
with a start. His phone was ringing, Matt’s ringtone. He rolled over and grabbed it, swiping across the front to connect the call. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to get cars on the LIE—they need to find the limo right now. Jim isn’t answering his phone,” Matt said, breathless and frantic. “They’re here—Tracey and Tripp—out on the Island.”

Already out of bed, Evan grabbed clothes out of his closet one-handed. “Are you sure?”

“Parking ticket outside Bennett’s apartment, parking ticket in Hampton Bay. Dark sedan rental. They’ve been watching Jim.”

“Shit.” Evan pulled on jeans and slipped into his sneakers. “I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you back when I get cars on the road.”

“I’ll be in the car. I’m going to see if I can catch up.”

“No—Matt. Just sit tight.”

He’d already hung up.

M
ATT
GRABBED
his phone and his flashlight as he raced out of the house.

“G
RIFFIN
,
WAKE
up,” Jim said gently but with urgency. “Griffin, baby. I need you right now.”

Griffin came around slowly, blinking and shaking his head. “Are we there?”

“No, but there’s a problem.” Jim kept his voice low and even. He didn’t want Daisy and Sadie to wake up. He didn’t want anyone to panic. “I’m not getting any reception on my cell. I need you to check yours.” Outside he could make out nothing but trees and empty roadways speeding by.

That seemed to move Griffin into wakefulness a bit quicker. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but I need you awake, okay? I need to know you’re aware—”

The limo swerved violently. Jim caught Griffin before he could hit the door, and then threw himself across the small space to grab Daisy as she woke in a panic, clutching a screaming Sadie.

“Hold on,” Jim shouted, bracing himself against the floor and ceiling, shielding Daisy and the baby as best he could.

They shifted again, a complete turn this time that spun the limo violently. The car collided with something. They heard the crush, felt the crazy vibrations as they spun one more time.

Then the limo came to rest.

“E
VERYONE
OKAY
back there?” came the driver’s voice over the intercom.

Jim dropped to his knees on the seat and pressed the button. “We’re okay,” he said, looking at a shaken Griffin and Daisy as they tried to calm Sadie between them. “What happened?”

“Sedan tried to run us off the road. I got us onto the side of the road, though. Wait.” The driver paused. “I see cops coming from both ends. Jesus.”

“Don’t get out of the car,” Jim snapped. “Just stay where you are.” He scrambled for the door even as Griffin grabbed at him.

“Where are you going?”

“Stay here. No one moves.”

Heart beating frantically, Jim pushed the door open. He nearly fell from the limo, adrenaline pumping as he ran toward the road. At least twenty cars had screeched to a halt, all surrounding a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows. He walked toward it, fingers itching like he was a gunfighter at the O.K. Corral as he unbuttoned his jacket to have access to the shoulder holster.

The officers surrounding the sedan had their guns drawn. Someone with a megaphone insisted its occupants exit the vehicle with their hands up.

The passenger door opened a second later. Tracey Baldwin Ingersoll—faithful girlfriend, alibi, and accomplice—came out screaming, hands in the air, crying hysterically as she ran toward the cars.

She babbled to the officers who grabbed her, thanking them in the split second before they pushed her to the ground and handcuffed her.

Jim stood on the edge of the highway where grass met pavement. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sedan even as the cops yelled for him to get back.

Then it happened: the driver’s door opened and Tripp Ingersoll slid out.

It looked like a peaceful surrender until Tripp looked over and saw Jim.

A sense of serenity fell over Jim in that second. He didn’t even reach for his gun. There were cops everywhere, and Jim? Jim was a civilian. A private citizen that Tripp had just tried to run off the road.

“You fucking sonofabitch!” Tripp screamed. He made a move like he was going after Jim, and the moment of distraction allowed the cops to grab him and wrestle him to the ground.

“I’m going to kill you! You think I’m going to stop! I’m going to fucking murder you and your fag boyfriend and that baby! You hear me, you fucking piece of shit? I’m going to cut your throat.”

Jim kept smiling. The more he struggled and swung at cops, the more he threatened Jim’s life, the deeper he dug his own grave.

Jim waited until they wrestled Tripp into the backseat of the cop car—and then, finally, he turned around and spotted Griffin standing in the tall grass, looking bewildered and lost.

Smile in place, Jim walked over to Griffin and pulled him into his arms.

It was done.

E
VAN
DROVE
with his light flashing on the dashboard, heart in his throat. He listened to the scanner, hearing the entire incident without a visual he so dearly needed. Matt didn’t answer his phone, so when Evan braked to a halt at the scene—a chaotic mess of vehicles—he got out and ran into the middle of it.

He found Jim and Griffin first, wrapped in a blanket and leaning against a cop car. Behind them, Evan could see Daisy and Sadie in the backseat.

Phone in hand, he dialed Matt again, hearing each ring like a punch in the stomach.

“Evan? Is everyone all right?”

Blowing out a breath, Evan laughed weakly. “Yeah, everyone’s all right.”

T
HE
SCENE
was chaos until they moved everything off to the side and the traffic was able to pass again. Evan spent thirty minutes on the phone with various officials from the state and the FBI, updating them and pacing up and down the side of the road. Finally, it was done.

They stood on the side of the road for almost thirty minutes, catching each other up, until adrenaline ran out and everyone just wanted to go to bed. There were hugs and tears as they said their good-byes, Jim hovering protectively around Griffin, Daisy, and Sadie, who calmly sucked on a lollipop thanks to a uniform with a sweet tooth.

Evan watched Jim and Matt share a tight hug. Matt whispered, “It’s over” and Jim only nodded.

“We’ll come out tomorrow at some point, bring you some food,” Evan said, lightly pinching Sadie’s cheek. “You need anything….”

Another round of hugs and murmured words of concern, and then they were moving in separate directions.

T
HEY
GOT
home at sunrise.

Evan and Matt walked through the front door, holding hands as they had been since they drove away from the scene on the expressway. They had been the last to leave, pulling away in Evan’s car as Griffin and Jim took off in the opposite direction in Matt’s SUV.

“Thank God we’re done,” Matt sighed as he stripped out of his shoes.

“Done for now. I have to go in in about four hours to explain what happened over the past few days and how it doesn’t mean I’m incompetent,” Evan said lightly, throwing his suit jacket on the couch as he walked by.

“You just helped catch two serial killers—that’s not going to divert this into something positive?” Matt followed him into the kitchen.

“Bad publicity is not why they hired me.” Evan pulled open the fridge to stare at the inside. Maybe the answer was sitting there amongst the milk and leftover pasta.

“Fuck ’em.”

Evan laughed tiredly as he reached for a bottle of water. “Matt….”

“You did your job. Two murderers are going to jail.”

“You and Jim did my job.”

Matt made a face as he walked to Evan’s side. “You used the resources you had. He’s going to jail and so is she. In a few hours, Helena will be in front of the cameras telling everyone two less pieces of shit are walking the streets. And you get to stand there looking….”