Chapter Twenty-one

Thanks to the headlights of the SUV, Ruby could see the blood dripping down from Francine's arm. Not a ton of it, but obviously Francine had taken Brynn's demand for blood seriously.

And apparently Francine wasn't done.

She yanked something from her pocket, moving so fast that Ruby got ready to shoot the woman if she drew a gun. She didn't. Instead, Francine threw a piece of paper on the ground.

"That's the account number and password for an account that has exactly a hundred grand in it," Francine said, her face and voice so tight with anger that Ruby was surprised the woman had managed to even speak. "Now, get your ass out here and give me what you have about my son."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and some of the rage morphed into grief. A hoarse sob tore from her mouth.

"I want to hear my son's voice on those recordings," Francine went on. "I need to see and touch what you have."

The words were right for a mother who'd lost a child she loved. But Ruby knew that often, that high level of emotions could cause a person to do reckless things.

Like murder.

"I'm getting out of the van," she heard Brynn say through the earpiece.

Ruby silently groaned, but she had expected a move this like. Brynn seemed just as desperate as Francine thought. They were clearly on opposite sides when it came to Trent.

Owen didn't curse, but Ruby could practically hear the profanity shouting from his mind. "Crawl into the front seat," he instructed Brynn. "Go out through the passenger's side and use the door for cover. Peer around it when you talk to Francine, but don't move out too far."

That'd been the reason Owen had parked the van the way he had. The passenger's side would give Brynn the most protection.

From her angle, Ruby could see the moment Brynn opened the door. She stepped out of the van, and at least for the time being, she did stay behind the door.

Francine had a smirking look on her face. "Coward. I always knew you were never good enough for my son."

"Your son was a dick," Brynn fired back. "An abusing asshole criminal."

Again, Owen didn't make a sound, but he had to be doing a whole lot of hoping and praying that Francine couldn't goad Brynn into stepping away from the van.

"Coward," Francine repeated, holding up her arm that was dripping with blood. "I've held up my end of the bargain. I'm standing out here in the open, unafraid of a little bitch like you. Now, give me my son's things."

Brynn took an envelope from her hoodie pocket. "The code and key to a safety deposit box. It has the recordings, including several conversations with his hired help, AKA the nurse, where he spills all about the help you gave him."

Francine certainly didn't deny giving her son help. "Then, it's just hearsay," she concluded. "You have nothing."

"I have Trent's phone that he forgot at the house on Milford Lane where he held me captive," Brynn went on. "There are text replies from you."

Bingo. That was a direct hit, even though Ruby knew it was a bluff on Brynn's part. Heck, all of this was a bluff, but Francine's mere presence here was enough to get a search warrant where something could indeed be found.

But would it be enough to link her to the murders?

Maybe.

Some of Francine's cockiness faded. "A good lawyer can get that dismissed," the woman muttered, not sounding at all sure of that.

"It's a big risk," Brynn concluded. "I think prison orange wouldn't be a good color on you."

"Or you," Francine fired back. "And cowards don't have an easy time of it in jail." She paused. "Speaking of cowards, where are Owen and Ruby? I know they must be here, protecting their little bitch, but they're too afraid to show their faces."

Ruby didn't bite. Neither did Owen. But Brynn must have decided it was time to press some buttons.

"Did you hesitate when you killed Howie?" Brynn called out. "Come on, you can tell me. Don't be a fraidy cat."

"I didn't kill him," Francine insisted.

"Really?" Brynn fired back. "Because that's not what Trent said when he was talking to the nurse. It's all on the recording. How you and he had talked about eliminating anyone who knew what he'd done to me."

No denial this time, but Francine shook her head, and a panicked look ran across her face. It vanished though when there was the sound of a car engine, and a moment later, another set of headlights slashed across the parking lot.

Ruby saw the green Jeep speed toward Francine's vehicle, and the Jeep driver stopped just a few inches away.

Alice bolted out.

And she was armed.

The woman used her own door for cover, and she took aim at Francine, who screamed at the top of her lungs and raced back to the side of her SUV.

"Francine," Alice snarled. "You're going to pay for what you've done. You, too," she added to Brynn.

"And who pays for what Trent did to me?" Brynn shot back.

"Francine does," Alice readily answered. "All of this is her fault. She convinced Trent to go on the run. Except she wanted you dead. Didn't you, Francine?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Trent told me everything, that you gave him money to hide, and that once the heat died down, you said he could come back and start a new life."

"A life with me dead," Brynn snarled.

"Yes, with you dead," Alice confirmed, and her voice had a low, dangerous edge to it. "I loved him, and he loved me, but we couldn't be together because Francine told him to run. If he'd just faced the consequences right from the start, he could have convinced the cops that he didn't hit you, that you hurt yourself to set him up because he was dumping you."

"Holy shit," Brynn said. "Is that what he told you? He told you I bashed myself in the head repeatedly?"

"Yes," Alice confirmed. "And I believed him because he loved me, not you."

Ruby wanted to shake some sense into Alice. But it was clearly too late, and Brynn must have understood that because she asked the right question.

"Did you kill Trent?" Brynn threw out there.

"No." Alice sounded horrified over the mere thought of it. "And I didn't kill Howie, the cop or attack Carlton either. That's all on her," she said, tipping her head toward Francine.

Ruby's phone vibrated, not once but two quick successions which told her the incoming text was very important. The timing sucked, but she couldn't ignore it so she glanced at the screen.

Then, she did a whole bunch of silent cursing.

Because this was something Owen had to see, she eased her way toward him while Francine and Alice continued their verbal sparring.

"Fuck," he muttered.

That'd been Ruby's reaction, too, because it was the DNA report back on the mask they'd found in the storm drain. DNA not from Alice or Francine.

But from Marlie.

So, she was the killer, but where the hell was she?

Ruby didn't have time to dwell on that question or the revelation of the DNA because at that moment, Francine let out a fierce howl. She reached into her SUV and pulled out something.

A gun.

And the woman started shooting.