Blood Money

and double pillowcases over her head. She sounded so weak and frightened. It was the kind of pleading that would have been a sexual turn-on for Merselus in another setting. Under this kind of pressure, it made him angry beyond control. Merselus hurried across the room, yanked the pillowcases off her head, and dropped to one knee. He grabbed her by the throat so hard that the back of her head slammed against the wall.

“Do you want to end up like Celeste?” he said in a voice that hissed.

Beads of sweat rolled down her face, and wet wisps of hair were matted to her red cheeks and forehead. Her breathing was quick, shallow, and shaky.

“Do you?” he repeated. His tone was even harsher, and his grip tightened, silencing her breathing. Sydney’s eyes bulged with that telltale struggle for air. She shook her head in reply, and Merselus released her throat. She rolled her head back and gasped for more air as Merselus rose from his knee.

“Why,” she started to say, and paused. Then she somehow managed to get out the rest. “Why did you hurt Celeste?”

He dropped to his knee again and grabbed her by the jaw, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Because I thought she was you.”

She stared back at him, frightened and confused. He released her jaw, curious to hear her response.

“You wanted to kill me right there?” she said. “Right outside the jail?”

“Yeah, because you snubbed me.”

“What?”

“You were supposed to throw yourself in my arms when you saw me, remember?”

“I did. By the airplane on the runway.”

“But you didn’t when I found you in the parking lot.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“I was watching Faith Corso on my mobile, and she said you had been released into the crowd. Things were getting dangerous. I went to you. I told you my name. I said let’s go, I’ll take you to the plane.”

“But-”

He grabbed her arm, silencing her. “You looked at me exactly the way you’re looking at me now-like I’m a creep, and like you never heard of anyone by the name Merselus. The second I took your arm,” he said, squeezing tightly to make his point, “you tried to run.”

“But-that wasn’t me.”

“Celeste sure looked like you. And after all I went through to get your cute little ass out of jail, I was not going to be snubbed by some bitch who turns and runs.”

Merselus heard another round of knocking. It sounded like the police were right next door. He quickly tore off a strip of duct tape and covered Sydney’s mouth. Then he went back to his position at the door and listened.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he heard one of the cops say to the neighbor in apartment 103. Then he heard the door close, followed by a pair of approaching footfalls on the sidewalk. Then they stopped.

“Check that out,” the same cop said.

“Looks like blood,” the other cop replied.

The old man’s blood. Merselus hadn’t noticed any on the other side of the threshold, but splatter was always a risk.

Three booming knocks rattled the door. “Miami-Dade Police Department. Open up.”

Andie was on the phone with MDPD Sergeant Jake Malloy. In her other ear she had her SWAT team leader, who was awaiting her confirmation that local police had ceased the door-to-door sweep. Andie was making no headway with Malloy. His response was to share an update that, in his mind, confirmed that MDPD’s plan was working.

“Two of my patrol officers just reported blood outside the door to apartment 102.”

“We know that already,” said Andie. “Our SWAT unit spotted it in the first sweep. But the plan isn’t to walk up and knock on the door. Pull your officers back!”

The crack of four quick gunshots ripped through the night. Andie heard it three ways-her radio communication with SWAT, her cell connection with MDPD, and the echo that reverberated down the black Miami River to the parking lot behind the vacant warehouse where Andie was standing. The next thing she heard came over her cell, a man shouting to MDPD Sergeant Malloy.

“Officer down!”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Jack kept an eye on the pistol in Ellen Bennett’s hands. She seemed to read his mind.

“Yes, I know how to use it,” she said.

After three years of Shot Mom and threats against the whole Bennett family, Jack didn’t question it. “This isn’t smart,” he said. “Just put the gun-”

“Shut up!” she said.

A breeze rustled through the ten-foot ficus hedge around Jack’s yard, as if to remind him of the downside to landscaped privacy. Ellen Bennett was standing just off the stone path to the driveway, between Jack and his car, about five steps away from Jack and her husband. She held the gun with both hands, arms extended. She was aiming at her husband, but it would have taken only a split second to target Jack. If not point-blank range, it was darn close to it.

“I know why Geoffrey came to see you,” she said, speaking to Jack.

Bennett said, “You don’t know anything, Ellen.”

“Quiet!” she said, pointing her gun for emphasis, her voice quaking. “I’m talking to Mr. Swyteck.”

There was just enough moonlight for Jack to see the range of emotion on her face-anger, frustration, fear. Jack tried his most soothing tone. “Would love to talk to you. Let’s do it without the gun.”

She pushed on. “I bet Geoffrey didn’t tell you that he’s the one who met Merselus online.”

“Stop, Ellen,” said Bennett.

“I bet he didn’t tell you about all the other strangers he’s brought into our marriage. If you can call it a marriage. Twenty-five years of strange men who do unspeakable things to the wives of other men while their husbands watch and enjoy.”

“That’s enough,” said Bennett. He took a half step toward her, but she stopped him with a menacing thrust of the gun in his direction. She continued in an angry but unsteady voice.

“I bet Geoffrey didn’t tell you what he did when his wife started to look middle-aged. When the videos he made of me were no longer the lure on the Internet that they once were. Did he tell you about that, Mr. Swyteck?”

“Please,” said Jack. “Let’s put the gun away, all right?”

“Ellen, I’m warning you,” said Bennett.

“Hah!” she said, but it wasn’t a laugh. She was on the verge of tears. “You’re warning me? Who’s in control now, Geoffrey? I should have done this so long ago, before you could use your own daughter as bait for perverts like Merselus.”

Bennett shot a sideways glance at Jack. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“I’m speaking the truth!” she said, her voice cracking. Her eyes darted back and forth from her husband to Jack, as if she were pleading with Jack to believe her. “Geoffrey didn’t tell you why I did nothing, did he?”

“What?” said Jack.

“Damn it, Ellen! I told him Merselus did it!”

Did nothing. Her words were like a light switch for Jack, a confirmation of that gut feeling he’d carried with him since the start of Sydney’s trial, continuing through his visits to the Bennett house after her release.

“Merselus didn’t kill your granddaughter, did he?” said Jack.