Page 82 of Alex Cross Must Die

“Zozi, be quiet,” said Eton. “My lawyer will handle this.”

Marple leaned in. “You’re right, Zozi,” she said. “We can’t control who we fall in love with. But faking an abduction? Extorting money? Thatisillegal. You’re definitely old enough to know that.”

“Time to go,” the cop said. She pushed the rear door shut and slid behind the wheel. Her partner swung his leg over the Kawasaki and fired it up. The patrol car pulled out first, with the young cop on the bike right behind and the Animal Control truck at the rear. Marple watched as they drove off down the street and disappeared around a corner.

“I’ll call Helene,” Poe said.

Marple nodded. As Poe reached for his phone, a loud pop sounded from the other side of the parking lot.

A gunshot.

CHAPTER 92

POE YANKED MARPLEto the ground and pulled out his pistol again. He swept the barrel around the parking lot, scanning the motel front and the sidewalk across the street. Nothing moving.

A low moan rose from behind a car at the edge of the lot. Poe crouched and moved forward. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. As he came around the other side of the sedan, he froze. A figure lay crumpled on the pavement. Poe took one step toward the shape. A jolt went through him.

No!

“Brendan!” he shouted.

Holmes was lying on his back, blood oozing from under his head. A thick, dark puddle was forming near his shoulder. His eyes were open but his expression was slack.

Poe dropped to his knees. He whipped off his jacket and put it under his partner’s neck. A second later, Marple was crouched down next to Holmes, her lips by his ear. “Brendan! What happened? Who did this??”

Holmes turned toward her, eyelids flickering. The white of his right eye was clouded with blood. “I bought drugs, Margaret … onthe boardwalk.” His voice was weak and monotone. “Someone … must have … followed me … My fault. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, a door opened on the second floor of the motel. A young woman with a baby in her arms stepped out onto the balcony.

“Get back inside!” Poe shouted.“Now!”The young woman turned back into the room and slammed the door behind her.

Poe pulled out his phone and pressed SOS.

The dispatcher picked up on the second ring. “Nine one one. What’s your emergency?”

Poe spoke slowly and clearly. “Beach Manor Motel. Male. Gunshot wound to the head. Critical!”

Holmes shuddered. His chest started to heave. His head rolled limply to the side, eyes closed now. His breaths were shallow and unsteady. Poe rested a palm on his partner’s chest and peeked under the edge of the blood-soaked jacket to get a closer look at the damage.

The bullet had plowed a furrow along the scalp above the right temple, exposing a strip of white bone. Poe dabbed blood away from the gash and pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket. In the sharp beam, he could see that the direction of the shot was front to back. He looked closer.

He saw black stippling at the entry point.

Poe looked at Marple. “It’s a contact wound,” he said.

Marple dropped down and stretched out flat on the pavement. She turned her head sideways and looked under the sedan next to where Holmes was lying. She stretched her arm underneath, reached behind the right rear tire—and pulled out a pistol by the barrel. When she held it up, Poe could read the initials on the grip:BH.

Marple sniffed the barrel and then slowly held it up to Poe’s nose. He nodded. Just fired.

Marple tucked the gun into her pocket as sirens echoed from a few blocks away. Poe turned back toward Holmes and whispered inhis ear. He wasn’t sure his partner could hear him, but he was going to say it anyway.

“Brendan, we know the truth. Nobody followed you from the boardwalk. The shooter wasyou.”

Marple sat hugging her knees, tears in her eyes.

“Maybe you changed your mind at the last instant,” said Poe. “If this is a cry for help, help is here. We won’t let you go. Not this way. We love you too much for that.”

When he looked up again, the parking lot was filled with flashing emergency lights.

---