She did as Nick asked, her mind racing to find a way out of the mess but nothing was coming to her.
Nick pulled a small box of ammunition from the closet, a smirk on his lips, and started to load the gun. To do so, he had to relinquish his hold on his own.
She had an opening. But what could she do? She looked around, eager to find something with which she could defend herself, but the space was pristine, not a thing out of place. All she had within reach was the lamp on the nightstand. It was a rather bulky number but if she could lift it and swing it at his head fast enough, she might have a chance to run.
Nick had his tongue sticking out as he continued loading the magazine.
“You don’t need to do this. I haven’t gone to the police yet.”
“I can’t take the chance that you haven’t or that you won’t. You’re running your mouth all over town!”
If he really thought she was going down without a fight, he was a complete idiot. She turned in a swift movement and grabbed the lamp from the table and swung it hard and high. The blow was a glancing one, and only with the shade rather than the base. Nick rolled with it.
She drew back to take another swing, but he punched her. Hard. Right to the side of her forehead.
The lamp dropped from her hands, and she fell to the bed. Her head was pounding, and her vision flashed white.
“You stupid bitch.” He raised Logan’s gun on her.
A loud crack. Deafening.
Time slowed.
She felt the thud as the bullet entered her chest, tearing through tissue and bone. Intense pain, burning. She put a hand over her heart, her blood warm against her palm and fingers. She pulled her hand back and saw the wedding band Logan had given her—for just a brief passing in time. She had loved him so much.
Her arm fell heavy to the bed.
As she lay there, Nick was moving her arms and legs, undressing her and redressing her, but she couldn’t get her body to fight back.
Instead, she surrendered, praying that God would forgive her, even more importantly, Logan, her sister, and Roo. She hoped Logan found the letter she’d left for him, in which she had laid everything out, including a recent postscript that said should something happen to her it was Nick Clayton or Mona Lawson. And with it was a key that would give him what had been her most valued acquisition.
All these thoughts raced through her mind as her heart slowed.
That night at Lawson Investments came flooding back. Martin lying there, taking his last breath…
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she heard her own death rattle. Then all went quiet.
THIRTY-NINE
“At least you didn’t get yourselves shot or killed.” That’s what Graves had told Amanda and Trent not long after she entered the room at the Lawson estate. Two days later, it was still repeating in Amanda’s head.
Zoe was playing in the backyard, while Amanda was slicing apples for a snack in the kitchen. She smiled as she watched the girl giggle and run through the yard.
This was a happy moment. What she lived for. Well, that and closed cases.
She’d thought a lot about Claire as a young girl in the past week. She’d had it rough and made decisions based on the options available to her. Some might judge her, and she certainly wasn’t innocent, but which of us were?
She’d just loaded the sliced apple onto a plate and was going to grab some cheese from the fridge when a knock at the door stopped her.
She answered and found Trent holding a small rosebush.
“For you.” He nudged it toward her.
She took it. “Why?”
“I thought you’d like one.”
She smiled at him. “Want to come in?”
