Page 69 of 3rd Tango
25
Charlie
Matt’s text comes in while I’m driving and talking to Taylor on my Bluetooth. Taylor can’t meet until three, so I decided to join Meg and Matt and try talking sense to Mom.
Meg and Mom are both at Gayle’s, it reads.Directive?
At Gayle’s? This news makes me accelerate and swerve around a Subaru filled with kids, probably on their way to the local pool. The loaner’s air conditioning drops a notch as the car shifts, blowing warm air instead of cold.
Taylor is in my ear saying, “I need to talk to Al before I go to Gayle and Marie. As soon as I’m done with this meeting, I’ll call him.”
I’ve explained my theories to her, as well as where I think Al and Mike might be involved. I’m not totally convinced of any wrongdoing by Al, but there’s something fishy for sure with Mike regarding the London Fog Gang, and I’m going to find out what it is.
“Hate to cut this short,” I tell her, “but my mom is about to tip Gayle and Marie off, if she hasn’t already.” I’m praying Meg gets her out of there, and they’re both okay, but since I haven’t ruled out their involvement with the death of Evelyn Jacoby, I’m a little panicked.
“They could go on the run again before you blink.” My gut tightens even more at the thought. “I’m on my way to try and contain the situation, but I strongly suggest you round them up before you bring Al and Mike in for questioning. If you can figure out the link between the four, this tangled mess of threads will unravel.”
She sighs. “I’ll see what I can do. Don’t let her blow this for us, Charlie.”
We disconnect, and a part of me hopes she’s bringing backup. I instruct Siri to send Matt a response.Protect them. On my way. Ten minutes out.
I break land speed records, pulling up and noting Matt’s Mustang as well as another car parked there. Al’s.
Are they all inside? It’s a flippin’ party, I guess. I haven’t heard anything further from him or Meg on my way here, and as I climb out, I get the answer to my question—a gun goes off at Gayle’s house.
My blood runs cold and my first instinct is to rush in. The former agent in me, pauses, assessing the situation and my options in rapid fire sequence. I grab my gun from my purse and eye the property as I dial 911. When the operator answers, all I say is, “There’s been a shooting,” and rattle off the address.
In my favorite Kate Spade white shirt and burgundy linen skirt, I have nowhere to hide my gun, so I don’t. The front door is ajar, but I weigh the odds of leaving myself exposed using that entrance. My instincts tell me to find a different way.
Their garage door is halfway up—possibly to allow heat to escape. Folks around here do that all the time. I see the not-so-hidden cameras Gayle just installed and figure he and Marie are distracted enough not to notice if I sneak under the metal entrance.
Unfortunately, it requires getting on my hands and knees. Kicking off my heels, I crawl under as quickly as I can, considering my attire. My gaze goes to the door I noted the night of our break-in.
I can hear a woman yelling. A sob and a plea.
I’m positive it leads to the kitchen and the knob is cool, even in the hot garage, under my fingers.
Ear to the door panel, I listen to the continuing half-yelling, half-sobbing. Definitely Marie.
Turning the metal ever so slowly, I find, to my great relief, it’s unlocked. Inch by inch, I ease it open, seeing the side of a fridge, late ’80s blue and white linoleum, geese on a wallpaper border over the sink.
I don’t have time to assess the rest, a line of people along the far wall. Matt, Meg, Al, and Mom. Gayle is nowhere to be seen but Marie has her back to me. She’s waving a gun and her anger has leveled up, the crying seeping away.
Ice fills my veins again. I can’t breathe.
The brunt of her anger seems directed at Al, a string of healthy curses labeling him in very creative ways. “I hate you,” she snarls at him. “You ruined my life!”
Four sets of eyes jerk to me as I widen the opening, but Marie is too busy with her caterwauling about money and Evelyn and years of living as someone else, to notice.
Al and Matt’s gazes return to her, pretending I’m not there. I put a finger to my lips so Mom and Meg realize I have a plan to save them.
I’m not exactly sure what that is, but my training is a beautiful thing. It works better when I don’t overthink the details and let my natural instincts kick in.
On silent, bare feet, I sneak behind Marie, lifting the butt of my gun to rap the back of her head. Just as I’m about to bring it down, Gayle appears, carrying two suitcases.
“I grabbed what I could.” His hard eyes are leveled on Al and not at her. “Let’s…”
He’s heading toward the door where I’m standing, to reach the getaway car, and now he shifts his eyes.
