“Holly,” I said, with a calm I didn’t feel. “Isn’t Ian with you?”
“Ian’s hiding out like a good dead man,” she said smugly.
“She played him for a sucker,” Michael muttered. “Just like me. Hi Zoey,” he said vaguely. “I’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
“Shut up!” she waved the gun around. Her nostrils were red and I thought I detected a glimmer of white powder. Great. Drugged-out psycho with a gun. Jerry reached in his pocket, but she whirled on him “Don’t even think about moving. I need to think.”
I bet. It didn’t seem to be a wise thing to say, however. My eyes darted around the room and met Jerry’s. He had been doing the same thing. There was a window behind us, with a short drop to the roof of the rear apartment. Okay for Jerry and me, but Michael wasn’t in any shape to move. Plus there was that gun. I wasn’t sure how good a shot she was, but you don’t have to be if you’re close enough.
Holly was moving the gun back and forth, not sure if she should focus it on Jerry or me. We could use that if I could just figure out how. And could we do it in time to get Michael to a hospital? I squeezed Michael’s hand. It was disturbingly clammy. I felt for a pulse. I found it way too easily. Two Caribbean Islanders with steel drums couldn’t match the rhythm it was so fast.
“Holly, you’ve got to let us get Michael to the hospital,” I said. “You don’t want anyone to really die, do you?” She’d let Michael live so far, she’d gone for discrediting me instead of killing me, there might be the vestiges of a human being left in there. On the other hand she also had to be the one who shot Ian. I suspected a double-cross there.
“Him?” she gestured with the gun at Michael, her voice full of scorn. “He ran into an old friend, started reminiscing, and we started partying just like in the old days. I got out before it got too crazy. How was I to know he was going to shoot himself up? And who’s going to believe him? What’s he going to say, “I’m sorry, your honor, I used to do coke, but I’ve never touched heroin?” I can’t imagine a judge that would buy that.”
“Why?” I was shaking with anger. If we could just get her to put down the gun, I thought, I’d try to tackle her. Unfortunately, she kept moving it back and forth like a crazed automaton between Jerry and me. If she missed Jerry, she’d hit the wall, but if she missed me, she could hit Michael. And the way his heart was racing . . .I didn’t want to think about it.
“Ian,” she spat. “The bastard changed his mind at the last minute. He couldn’t go through with the plan. He couldn’t do it to his daughter. We had the whole scheme planned. I was going to wound him just enough. A little sedative to slow down his heartbeat . . . “ She twitched and focused the gun on Jerry. “Don’t freaking move.”
The hell with that, I thought and grabbed the syringe. I threw it towards the doorway and her head followed the noise. “Get the gun!” I yelled at Jerry and went for Michael’s hands. Cable ties bound his wrists. I said something foul. Holly saw my something foul and raised me a vulgarity. Jerry wrested the gun away from her and calmly held it to her temple. I looked around the room. Nothing sharp. “Give me your pocket knife, Jerry.”
I’d underestimated Holly. The minute Jerry moved, she kicked him in the shin and grabbed for the gun. Jerry was bigger and quicker, but she had the adrenaline rage that comes with drugs telling your brain you can do anything. I didn’t dare try to help, I couldn’t tell who had the gun. I checked around the room again. I saw nothing sharp enough to cut a cable tie. I checked Michael’s pockets and struck gold, well, metal. The Swiss Army knife I’d given him for Christmas. It was the perfect geek tool; it came with a flash drive. More importantly, it had at least three different sizes of knife and a small scissor.
I cut through the tough plastic tie on his wrists. It was sticky with blood from when he had struggled. I glared at Holly, who was back under Jerry’s control. “Why’d you have to get Michael involved?”
“Me? That’s your fault, you stupid bitch.” I felt like Kevin Kline in A Fish Called Wanda. Don’t call me stupid and expect not to get hurt. “If you’d just stopped snooping around, everything would have been fine, but he,” she jerked her head at Michael, “believed you when you said you saw Ian alive. I thought the message “the King is Dead,” on craigslist would put you off, but no luck there.”
“Ian left me a message, too,” I said. “I knew something was up.”
“I know, that’s why I slipped the LSD in your soup. It was simple to make it seem like you were seeing things. I had Michael’s keys. You were out like a light and never noticed I came in. I didn’t need you dead, just unreliable. I figured nobody would believe you.”
I flipped her the bird. “Jerry, let’s get out of here.” I went for my cell phone and called an ambulance. She could go hang; I just wanted Michael to be all right. I called the cops, too, and then switched places with Jerry. I wasn’t as gentle with Holly as he had been.
“Oh please, struggle.” I jerked her arm behind her back. “Come help me in the kitchen, my ass. You knew if Michael saw me there, we could cast enough suspicion on whatever you and Ian were cooking up that you wouldn’t get away with it.”
“You must not have much of a life to find a dead man so interesting,” she snorted. I was about to cuff the back of her head, when Jerry interrupted my train of thought.
“I’ve got him, Zo.” He had Michael over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. I pulled Holly into the hallway to give Jerry room to get Michael out there. As he headed down the stairs, I pushed Holly forward and she tripped. I pulled her back up, but went too far and something collided against my head. I heard a loud crack that I really hoped wasn’t my skull.