Backfire

Sherlock said, “So she said Ramsey’s name?”

“Yes, Maria said Charlene told her about some ‘nasty bugger’ judge she was going to kill, too.”

“Was there anyone else on her hit list after she killed Ramsey? Had to be someone close. I mean, to make Dillon pay a stiff price, this person had to be close, right?”

“I’d say so,” Dane said, “since it was you, Sherlock. I know we were all hoping it was random, that any FBI agent would have filled the bill—but it wasn’t random, and I doubt you really thought that for a minute, not really.

“Charlene wanted you dead because you’re Savich’s wife, the most important person in his world, just as Sonny was to Charlene.

“Yes, I know it doesn’t make much sense, since Savich was three thousand miles away when Father Sonny was killed, but Charlene didn’t care. If not for Savich and his fancy technology, her precious boy would never have been caught. She thought Sonny would still be flying high and free, and she would be there with him, together again.”

Sherlock said, “Dane, even if there hadn’t been a match in the facial-recognition program, Father Sonny wouldn’t have cut his losses, disappeared, and flown free. He’d have done just what he did do—gone after Emma again, and that’s why he was caught. Identifying him through the sketch was only a shortcut, and not a very important one.”

“Didn’t matter. Maria said when she pointed out to Charlene that Sonny had to get caught sooner or later, Charlene threw a ten-pound free weight at her. Maria gave me a manic grin, said she’d never argued with Charlene again after that. I wanted to ask her why she hadn’t figured out sooner that Charlene was off her rocker, but I didn’t, since Maria’s train isn’t exactly running on the tracks, either.”

Sherlock said, “But that whole deal at the Fairmont; how could she possibly have found out I’d be there?” She paused, added, “I just gave myself a head slap. She was following me, of course.”

“Yep, probably for a couple of days, waiting for her chance. She must have thought God was in her corner when you leaped out of that FBI van and took off after Xu. I’ll bet she was already in position and she took her shot.”

“I never saw her, Dane, never noticed. How good an agent does that make me?”

“Have you forgotten that no one even considered there was another shooter besides Xu out there, and certainly not an older woman? You know Charlene was very careful. She knew you were in the surveillance van, knew something was going down at the Fairmont.”

“How long was she out of prison before she shot Ramsey, Dane?”

“Nearly six months. Maria told me Charlene planned to rob a couple of stores to get herself a big enough stake, then she was going to take shooting lessons. This probably all went down close to Saint Gabriel, but far enough away not to connect her. When she was ready, she skipped out on parole. I’d have to say she got good at the firing range, but not good enough to kill you.”

“With me, that’s true, but with Ramsey—she wouldn’t have failed with Ramsey if he hadn’t been just plain lucky.

“Is there someone else on her make-Dillon-pay list?”

She realized Dane didn’t want to say the name aloud, she could hear it in the pulse of silence. She felt her heart speed up because she knew, of course she knew. She waited. Finally Dane said, “After you, Maria said Charlene was going to kill Sean. ‘An eye for an eye,’ she told Maria. She wanted Savich to suffer as much as she’d suffered. A son for a son. And that’s why I was going to call you right away if you hadn’t called me first.”

Dr. Kardak walked in, smiled and apologized for making her wait, but Sherlock was already on her feet, halfway out the door. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. Later, Doctor.” And she ran out of his office.

She heard him call after her, “I guess if you can sprint like that I shouldn’t be too concerned about you.”

—

Two hours later, Corman and Evelyn Sherlock and grandson Sean were in the Sherlocks’ SUV, headed for a visit to Yosemite National Park.

San Francisco General Hospital

Saturday morning

Harry wasn’t at all surprised to see Eve sitting next to Ramsey’s bed when he arrived at the hospital. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to her since she’d taken off like a launched rocket out his front door that morning. His first thought was that she looked gorgeous wearing her signature red and black, her U.S. Deputy Marshal badge sparkling on her jacket whenever she moved, her blond ponytail swinging. Harry couldn’t seem to remember the last time he’d felt, well, this light, like gravity wasn’t quite pulling him down to the ground. Despite all the scary violence going down around them, despite Eve’s wariness of him and of them that morning, Harry realized he was grinning like a loon at the two guards who’d seconds before looked ready to tear out his throat before they’d realized who he was.