Page 79 of Bad Seed

He didn’t care whether Larry liked it or not, he knew Larry couldn’t fire him and Ray wouldn’t care. But the next text on his list was to Rusty Pope.

Rusty, don’t know if you’ve heard. Harley had it out with the hit man today. She was obviously the better shot. He’s dead. She’s in the hospital, but will be okay. Feds have taken possession of the body. Identified as Oliver Prine. Residence in Philadelphia. Harley said she’d seen his face before. Once outside the warehouse, and another time in the parking lot of the Crossley office building. Nobody knows who sent him, but authorities are keeping a lid on the fact that this even happened. They don’t want to alert anyone that the hit man failed, for fear he’d send someone else. I hope your people can link the dead hit manto a known entity. I want this over with. I have plans to grow old with her, and I’d like for her to be in one piece.

He hit Send, got up to stretch his legs and check on her again.

Her sleep was so restless that they kept the bed rails pulled up to keep her from rolling out of bed. She still had a fever, but it didn’t feel as high. And she was still waking up reaching for a gun. Hopefully, when her head healed, the nightmares would go away.

He was standing at the window looking down at Jubilee, still lit up like a circus, and then up at the mountain, shrouded in darkness. The urge to take her and run was huge. This wasn’t over.

***

Rusty finally had a response from her handwriting expert. In his opinion, Tipton Crossley was likely the person who forged his father’s name, which meant he was actively involved in what was happening at the warehouse. She was getting ready to send the info to Jay Howard when she got Brendan’s text. Her heart sank. Someone got to Harley before they got the answers they were looking for, and Jay probably already knew that, since the feds had taken over the incident.

But she still rewrote her message to Special Agent Howard, hit Send, then went to look for Cameron. Thekids were both in bed, so he was likely in front of the fireplace with Ghost, and she was right.

Cameron looked up with a smile, then saw the look on her face, and was on his feet and heading toward her. “What’s wrong?”

“Harley Banks was shot today. She’s in the hospital, likely going to be okay. She took out the hit man. He’s been identified. Feds have taken over the case, but nobody’s talking because they don’t want it known that the hit man failed. This isn’t over for her. It won’t ever be over until the boss is identified and put away.”

Cameron took her in his arms and pulled her close. “None of this is your fault. This is a side effect of Harley’s job, just like getting shot at was part of yours.”

Rusty sighed. “I know that in my head, but it doesn’t make me feel better.”

“We have to trust the process,” he said. “Maybe with the new information Harley provided, it will be the key to breaking the case for them.”

“I hope so,” Rusty said, then glanced down. Ghost was standing at their feet. She leaned over and gave him a hug. “Thank you for your concern, my sweet boy.”

“Go sit by the fire. Can I bring you something?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she said. “And don’t forget Ghost. He needs a treat, too.”

Cameron grinned. “Ghost is never forgotten, and you are his best treat advocate ever.”

***

While the turmoil continued in Jubilee, it was spilling over into the Beaumont household in Dallas.

Karen was at work every day, while Justine pretended to job search, although the only jobs she qualified for were for unskilled laborers, and as she put it, she wasn’t about to lower herself to menial labor among the unwashed. What she wanted was a rich man. But without money to squander in bars and clubs, she had no way to meet them.

She was lolling about at home, making sure she kept dishes washed and the floors clean so her mother wouldn’t be on her back every evening after she got home from work, and prowling through every aspect of her mother’s life in the process. Trying to find something, anything, that would get her out of this hole.

She’d already gone through the jewelry box and found nothing but worthless costume jewelry. There was a small safe on the floor of her mother’s closet, but the door was ajar and there was nothing in it, so she moved to her mother’s office and began digging through the neatly color-coded filing system in the side drawers. There was one for repair receipts. One with tax information, incidentals she didn’t even understand.

And then there, at the back of the last drawer, a file marked Insurance Policies. She pulled it out and began sorting through the contents. Homeowner’s insurance. Car insurance. Health insurance. And thenbingo!A last will and testament and a $500,000 life insurance policy.

Her eyes widened as she read the will. She was hermother’s heir. Then she read the life insurance policy. She was the recipient of the payout.

“Thank you, Mother, for your concern,” she crowed. She put everything back the way she found it and began thinking of all the ways Karen Beaumont could die.

That evening when Karen came home, Justine had done the best she could do with a box of Hamburger Helper and made a salad out of lettuce and tomatoes with croutons on top. The table had been set, and everything was in its proper place.

Karen came into the house from the garage and could already smell food as she passed through the utility room and into the kitchen. She saw a covered dish warming beside the stove and Justine loading pans into the dishwasher.

“Wow!” Karen said.

Justine was all primed for her act as she glanced up. “Oh, hi, Mom.”

“Hello, yourself!” Karen said. “Something smells good.”

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