“Fuck, I’ve got to go.” I don’t wait for another word from Rutger before barging back into the house.
Inside, I find Izzie sitting up on the living room floor with a blanket covering her front. Dick stands in the arch of the front door holding a handgun. His eyes are huge as dinnerplates, and his hands start shaking as soon as he sees me. The motherfucker wasn’t expecting me. The realization enrages me. The fucking coward counted on surprising my wife alone.
“Don’t move a step closer, or I’ll shoot,” Dick screams, shaking even more.
Izzie covers her mouth with her hand, looking towards me in a panic. Dick’s already made his first mistake by not shooting. That hesitation will be the death of him.
“Look, motherfucker, you’re all out of luck. Everyone knows what you’ve done. You want to add murder charges to your rap sheet?” Truthfully, it won’t make any difference. If I don’t get him, the Bratva will, even if he’s behind bars. As I talk, I take confident steps forward. I just need to get close enough, and this is all over. The question remains: How far is Dick willing to push this?
The coward does the unthinkable. He turns the weapon on Izzie. “One step closer, and I’ll shoot. I mean it.” I don’t know if it’s fear or adrenaline, although I’d put my money on the first, but his voice shakes so hard I have to work to decipher his words.
“Please, Richard, think about what you’re doing,” Izzie pleads, steeling her voice. “What you’ve done at the museum. We can sort it out. Fix it. Don’t escalate this any further than it needs to go. You’re too smart for this.”
I want to throw up at the last phrase, but I also realize she’s trying to stroke his ego.
“You’re right. I am smart. Only two percent of the population has a PhD, after all. There’s got to be a way out of this.” He’s talking out loud, and I keep stepping closer. Thankfully, he stares so intently at Izzie he doesn’t notice me.
“That’s right. You have a PhD and a whole future ahead of you as an academic. The California Historical Society is small potatoes for you. We can make this right. It’ll be fine. You can stillmove on from this.”
I stealthily move closer as my wife distracts him. Her eyes never leave Richard’s face, and I’m impressed by her courage at gunpoint. Of course, from our time together in Afghanistan, I always knew she was brave. Thankfully, he tips the gun down now, the shaking in his arms getting the better of him.
“You’ve got too much to give this world to let it end here, Richard. You’re a professor after all. We can sort this out. I promise.” She says, trembling.
Dick’s brows furrow, and he searches her face. He still looks half drunk to me, and sweat pours from his brow. A couple steps closer. That’s all I need.
Suddenly, he turns my direction, swinging the gun back around. I know this is it. With a ferocious burst of speed and energy, I lunge his direction, knocking him to the ground. The gun goes off, and I feel a searing heat at my temple as I smash him to the ground. He wrestles me frantically for the weapon, grasping at my face and upper torso like a panicked animal. But I easily get him in a hold, wresting the gun from his grasp. Instantly, he transforms into a trembling heap of flesh.
Calling in the direction of my wife, I order, “Izzie, baby, I’m gonna need you to put on your robe and call 9-1-1. Then, you need to head out to my truck and get something for me.” Dick shakes harder, and I laugh to myself. Yeah, I wish I was in a movie, and it was a torture kit or some shit like that. After all, I’d like to light up the motherfucker who came after my woman. But it’s really just handcuffs as this particular operation requires me to follow the letter of the law.
After scrambling into her robe, Izzie jumps to her feet, searching for my keys. As she walks past us, she stops, her jaw dropping to the floor. She gasps, “Wolfe, you’re bleeding.”
I already know something’s up by the searing throb in my temple and the blood gushing down the left side of my face. Shaking my head, I say, “I’m fine, baby. I need you to find the cuffs I keep in the glove compartment.” I would’vemuch preferred using them on her during a kinky round of mid-morning sex but at least this fucking perp’s now accounted for. The thought of him targeting Izzie still infuriates me.
Ten minutes later, Dick’s in a chair with his hands cuffed behind him. I’m bare foot and bare-chested with my khaki pants on, and I’ve got three sheriff’s deputies standing in the entryway, including my brother, Sheriff McLeod. “You made decent time,” I tell my brother, clapping my hand on his shoulder.
Izzie’s done her best to stop the bleeding from my temple and has it bandaged. I got grazed by the one bullet Dick managed to discharge, but fortunately, my thick skull came in handy for once.
Christian rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Once I heard somebody was breaking into Izzie’s house, and you were here. Fuck, I thought for sure I’d be walking into a murder scene.” My brother takes off his white Stetson, staring long and hard at Dick who’s looking down. “Hey, asshole, look at me.” Dick’s head shoots up as my brother says through clenched teeth, “You’re lucky to be alive right now. This guy doesn’t play, and he’s got seven ways from Sunday to end you before you know what hits you. You picked the wrong motherfucker to mess with.”
One of Christian’s deputies comes for Dick, grabbing him roughly by the arm and leading him outside for transport. I glare after him, growling. Christian’s right. The motherfucker’s lucky to be alive. Too lucky, in my book.
Izzie’s dressed in her clothes from last night, and her hair’s wild from falling asleep with it wet. She stands next to me, and I’ve got my arm wrapped tightly around her.
Christian takes a step back, curiously surveying us for a long moment. Then, his face softens with a smile. “Nice to see two of my favorite people in this world getting along again. Does this mean I can talk you and the kids into coming overfor dinner and regaling Cricket and I with exotic stories of how you met in Afghanistan? You know, that shit never gets old. And it’s about time you start filling your kids in on how cool you both are, especially together.”
I smile, holding Izzie even tighter against me. The thought of how close I came to losing her means I won’t be letting go of her anytime soon. “We’ll get something on the calendar. But first, I’ve got to straighten things out with Flynn. And then we have to break the news to the kids.” I look down at Izzie, and her eyes fill with happy tears.
“Straighten things out with Flynn?” Christian questions.
I nod emphatically. “Get the divorce papers back from him before he files them with the court.”
“Matt and Stasia are going to be so happy,” Christian replies, grinning broadly. “Just like the rest of the family. We’ve missed you, sis.” The blond, bronzed sheriff in his tan-and-black uniform reaches down to hug her, and I begrudgingly loosen my grip so she can return it. “Take good care of this big lug. He may not admit it, but he needs you.”
She nods knowingly, “I promise I will, for the rest of my life.”
Christian looks touched by her words. “Sounds like you’ve got a keeper, bro. But I already knew that. Now, back to business. I’m not done with either one of you, yet. I still need official statements. But first, we need to talk about what went down at the museum last night.”
I nod, knowingly. Besides catching Roger and Duncan at the museum, who tried to make off with a stupidly impressive haul, Selma and Laurie got fascinating confessions. The guys are already using them to secure more evidence and tighten the case.
