The Winner

  Riggs and Charlie and the FBI agents were engaged in an animated discussion at the entrance to the private road when they heard the shots. Riggs threw the car in gear and roared up the road. The FBI agents ran to their car.

  Jackson bolted down the hallway, suddenly stopped, and looked in Sally Beecham’s bedroom. Empty. He spied the gun on the floor and snatched it up. Then he heard the pounding. He raced to the kitchen and unlocked and threw open the pantry door. Roger Crane, squinting and quivering, stumbled out.

  “Thank God, Peter. She had a gun. She put me in here. I . . . I did exactly as you told me.”

  “Thank you, Roger.” He lifted up the pistol. “Tell Alicia I said hello.” Then he fired point blank into his brother’s face. The next instant he was out the door and racing across the lawn for the woods.

  As they jumped out of their car Riggs saw Jackson first and sprinted after him. Charlie, despite his weakened state, was right behind. When the lawmen pulled up seconds later, they ran to the house.

  LuAnn met them on the stairs. “Where are Matthew and Charlie?”

  The men looked at each other. “I saw somebody running into the woods,” one of them answered.

  They all ran out onto the front lawn. That’s when they heard it, the drone of the helicopter as the blades cut through the rain and wind. It landed on the front lawn. They all saw the FBI insignia on the side. The group raced over; LuAnn and Lisa reached it first.

  Several police cars pulled up next to the fountain and a small army of officers poured out.

  George Masters climbed out of the helicopter followed by a team of FBI agents. He looked at her. “LuAnn Tyler?” She nodded. Masters looked at Lisa. “Your daughter?”

  “Yes,” LuAnn said.

  “Thank God.” He let out a deep sigh of relief and held out his hand. “George Masters, FBI. I came into town to interview Charlie Thomas. When I got to the hospital he was gone.”

  “We’ve got to go after Jackson, I mean Peter Crane. He went into the woods,” LuAnn said. “Matthew and Charlie went after him. But I want Lisa safe. I can’t leave her without knowing she’ll be completely safe.”

  Masters looked between mother and daughter, spitting images of each other. Then he looked at the helicopter.

  “We’ll transport her to the FBI office here in Charlottesville in this helicopter. I’ll put her smack in the center of a room with a half dozen heavily armed FBI agents. That good enough?” He smiled weakly.

  A grateful look crossed her face. “Yes. Thanks for understanding.”

  “I’ve got children too, LuAnn.”

  While Masters gave instructions to the pilot, LuAnn gave Lisa one more hug and kiss and then turned and raced for the woods, a swarm of FBI agents and police officers right behind her. As fleet of foot as she was, and knowing the terrain as well as she did, she soon left them far behind.

  Riggs could hear the feet flying in front of him. Charlie had dropped back a bit, but Riggs could hear his heavy breathing not far behind. The woods were wreathed in almost complete darkness and the rain continued to pour down. Riggs blinked his eyes rapidly to gain some degree of night vision. He pulled his gun, slipped the safety off with a quick punch of his finger. Then he halted abruptly as the sounds ahead of him stopped. He crouched and swept the area with his eyes, his gun making wide arcs. He heard the sound behind him an instant too late as the foot slammed into his back, sending him lunging forward and then down. He hit the wet ground hard, his face sliding painfully across the grass and dirt, and he ended up slamming against a tree, his gun smacking hard against the trunk. The impact caused his wounded arm to start bleeding again. When he flipped over on his back, he saw the man flying at him, the foot poised to deliver another crunching blow. Then Charlie blindsided Jackson and the two men went sprawling.

  An incensed Charlie pounded Jackson with his fists and then cocked his arm back to deliver a knock-out punch. Quick as an eel, Jackson made a direct hit on Charlie’s wound, a blow that made him scream and double over. Then, with the same motion employed in striking a cymbal, Jackson smashed both palms against Charlie’s ears, forcing a sudden, painful rush of air into his ear canals and rupturing an eardrum. Nauseated and dizzy from the combined blows, Charlie fell off Jackson and lay on the ground groaning.

  “I should’ve slit your throat at the motel,” Jackson spat down at him. Jackson was about to deliver a crushing kick to Charlie’s head when he heard Riggs scream at him.

  “Get the hell away from him before I blow your damn head off.”

  When Jackson looked over, Riggs’s gun was pointed directly at him. Jackson stepped away from Charlie.

  “Finally, we meet. Riggs the criminal. How about discussing a financial arrangement that will make you very rich?” Jackson said. His voice was hoarse and weak from his near strangling by LuAnn. He clutched at his torn hand; his face was bleeding from Charlie’s blows.

  “I’m not a criminal, asshole. I was an FBI agent who testified against a cartel. That’s why I was in Witness Protection.”

  Jackson circled closer to Riggs. “Ex-FBI? Well, then at least I’m certain you won’t shoot me down in cold blood.” He pointed a warning finger at Riggs. “Understand though, if I go down, so does LuAnn. I’ll tell your former employers that she was in on everything, even helped me plan it. I’ll paint a picture so dark that she’ll be grateful for a life sentence. My attorneys will see to that. But don’t worry, I understand you can have yearly conjugal visits in some prisons now.”

  “You’re going to rot in jail.”

  “I hardly think that. I can only imagine what sort of deal I can cut with the Feds. I would think they’d do anything to avoid public disclosure of all this. When this is all over, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again. In fact, I look forward to it.”

  Jackson’s mocking tones burned through every fiber of Riggs’s body. What was even more maddening was the fact that everything Jackson had predicted could very well happen. But it wouldn’t, Riggs swore to himself. “That’s where you’re wrong,” Riggs said.

  “About what?”

  “About killing you in cold blood.” Riggs pulled the trigger. The sound that didn’t occur seemed to drive all the blood from Riggs’s body. The gun didn’t fire; the impact with the tree had jammed it. He pulled the trigger again with the same sickening result.

  Jackson instantly drew his own gun and pointed it at Riggs.

  Riggs dropped the useless pistol and backed up as Jackson advanced. He finally stopped retreating when his foot felt nothing but air. He looked behind him: a sheer drop. Down below, the fast-moving water. He looked back at Jackson, who smiled and then fired.

  The bullet hit right in front of Riggs’s feet and he stepped back a half inch, teetering on the edge.

  “Let’s see how well you swim with no arms.” The next shot hit Riggs’s good arm. He grunted in pain and doubled over, clutching it, trying to maintain his balance. Then he looked up at the sneering face of Jackson.

  “Take the bullet or the jump, it’s your choice. But do it quick, I don’t have much time.”

  Riggs had only an instant. As he crouched over, the arm that had just been hit slid up the length of his sling — a very natural movement under the circumstances. Jackson had underestimated his resourcefulness. Jackson wasn’t the only one who had lived by his wits, who had gotten himself out of tight spots by acting nimbly. What Riggs was about to do had saved his life while working undercover during a drug deal that had gone sour. It would not save his life this time. But it would save several others, including one that he cared more about than his own: LuAnn’s.

  He locked eyes with Jackson. His anger was so intense that it blocked out the pain in both arms. His hand closed around the butt of the compact gun taped inside his sling, the one he had originally had in his ankle holster. Its muzzle was pointed right at Jackson. Wounded arm and all, his aim was as sharp as ever. And Jackson was only a few feet away. But Riggs had to make the first shot count.

  “Rigg
s!” Charlie screamed.

  Jackson didn’t take his eyes off Riggs. “You’re next, Uncle Charlie.”

  Matt Riggs would never forget the look on Jackson’s face as the first shot Riggs fired erupted through the sling and hit the man flush in the face, tearing first through the powder, putty, and spirit gum, and then slamming a microsecond later into real flesh and bone. The gun fell from an astonished Jackson’s hand.

  Riggs kept pulling the trigger, sending bullet after bullet slamming into Jackson. Head, torso, leg, arm — there wasn’t a piece of him Riggs missed until the firing pin banged empty twelve shots later. And all the time Jackson’s countenance held a look of supreme disbelief as blood mixed with fake hair and skin; creams and powders mutated into a dull crimson. The total effect was eerie, as though the man were dissolving. Then Jackson dropped to his knees, blood pouring from a dozen wounds, and then he fell face forward to the ground and did not move again. His last performance.

  That’s when Riggs went fully over the edge. The multiple kicks from the pistol were enough to completely unsettle his balance, and his feet were unable to counter the slippery red clay. But as he went over, a look of grim satisfaction came over his face even as he stared down at the abyss he was plummeting toward. Two useless arms, both bleeding him to death, deep, fast, icy water, nothing to grab. It was over.

  He heard Charlie scream his name one more time, and then he heard nothing else. He felt no pain now, only peace. He hit the water awkwardly and went under.

  Charlie scrambled over and was just about to plunge in when a body hurtled by him and went over the edge.

  LuAnn broke the surface of the water cleanly and almost instantly reappeared. She scanned the surface of the rapidly moving water that was already pulling her downstream.

  From the bank, Charlie stumbled along through the thick trees and heavy underbrush, trying to keep up. The shouts of the FBI agents and police officers were getting louder, but it didn’t look as though their help would arrive in time.

  “Matthew!” LuAnn screamed. Nothing. She dove under, methodically pushing off from bank to bank searching for him. Twenty seconds later she resurfaced, sucking in air.

  “LuAnn!” Charlie yelled at her.

  She ignored his cries. As the cold rain pelted her, she sucked in another lungful of air and went under again. Charlie stopped, his eyes darting everywhere, trying to pinpoint where she would come up. He wasn’t about to lose both of them.

  When LuAnn broke the surface again she wasn’t alone. She gripped Riggs tightly around the chest as the current swept them along. He gagged and spit up water as his lungs struggled to function again. She tried to swim cross-current but was making little progress. She was freezing. In another minute hypothermia could well incapacitate her. Riggs was sheer dead weight, and she felt her strength fading. She scissored her legs around his upper torso, angling just enough that his face was above the water’s surface. She kept putting pressure on his stomach, making his diaphragm kick up and down, helping him clear his lungs.

  She looked desperately behind her, searching for some way out. Her eyes fell upon a fallen tree, and, more important, the thick branch that was suspended partially out over the water. It would be close. She readied herself, gauging the distance and height. She tensed her legs around Riggs and then made her lunge. Her hands closed around the branch and held. She raised herself up. She and Riggs were now partially out of the water. She tried to pull herself up more, but couldn’t; Riggs was too heavy. She looked down and saw him staring at her, his breath coming in short gasps. Then she watched horrified as he started to unwrap her legs from around him.

  “Matthew, don’t! Please!”

  Through blue lips that moved in a painfully slow manner he said, “We’re not going to both die, LuAnn.” He pushed her legs again and she was now fighting him and the current and the weary ache in her limbs as the numbing cold settled deeply within her. Her lips were trembling with both rage and helplessness. She looked down at him again as he tried desperately to free himself, to rid her of the burden. She could simply let go, fall with him, but what about Lisa? She had seconds to make a choice, but then she didn’t have to. For the first time in her life, her strength failed, and her grip was broken. She started to plummet downward.

  The thick arm that clamped around her body ended her fall and the next thing she felt was herself and Riggs being lifted completely out of the water.

  She cocked her head back and her eyes fell upon his face.

  Straddling the tree trunk, Charlie, bad arm and all, grunted and grimaced and finally pulled them safely to a narrow dirt bank where they all three collapsed, the water inches from them. LuAnn’s legs were still locked in a death grip around Riggs. She lay back, her head on Charlie’s chest, which was heaving mightily from his efforts. LuAnn slid her right hand down to Riggs, who took it, laying it against his cheek. Her left hand went up and gripped Charlie’s shoulder. He covered her hand with his. None of them said a word.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  “Well, it’s all done,” Riggs said, gingerly hanging up the phone. They were in his home office, LuAnn, Charlie, and Lisa. A gentle snow was falling outside. Christmas was rapidly closing in.

  “So what’s the bottom line?” LuAnn asked.

  LuAnn and Charlie were healed. Riggs was out of his sling, and the cast he had had to wear to mend the bone Jackson’s bullet had broken had recently been removed as well. He still moved slowly, though.

  “Not great. The IRS finished its calculations of the back taxes you owed, penalties and interest all compounded for the last eight or so years.”

  “And?”

  “And it came to all the cash you had, all the investments you had, and all the property you had, including Wicken’s Hunt.” He managed a grin, trying to ease the impact of the depressing news. “You were actually short sixty-five cents so I threw it in for you, no charge.”

  Charlie snorted. “What a Christmas present. And the other lottery winners get to keep all their money. That’s not fair.”

  “They paid their taxes, Charlie,” Riggs replied.

  “She’s paid taxes.”

  “Only since coming back to this country and only under the name Catherine Savage.”

  “Well, she couldn’t before. Not without probably going to prison for a crime she didn’t commit.”

  “Well, gee, that’s a real winning argument.”

  “Yeah, but they all won by cheating too,” Charlie retorted.

  “Well, the government isn’t about to announce that to the world. They make billions off the lottery. Telling the truth might just mess that up, don’t you think?”

  “How about all the millions she gave to charity, doesn’t that count for something?” Charlie said angrily.

  “The IRS applauded LuAnn’s generosity but said they really couldn’t help on that because she had never filed a return. I’m telling you it’s not a bad deal. She could have gone to prison for a long time over this. Except for that fact, she probably could have kept some of the money. But that was a very real threat over her head. Sheriff Harvey didn’t go away very easily.”

  “I can’t believe this crap. After all she’s been through. She broke up Crane’s worldwide criminal syndicate, the FBI looks like heroes, they confiscated all his property, billions of bucks into the Treasury, and she winds up with nothing. Not even a pat on the back. It’s not fair!”

  LuAnn put a hand on a seething Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Charlie. I didn’t deserve any of that money. And I wanted to pay what I owed. I just want to be LuAnn Tyler again. I told Matthew that. But I didn’t murder anyone. All the charges against me are gone, right?” She looked at Riggs for confirmation.

  “That’s right. Federal, state, everything. Free as a bird.”

  “Yeah, and poor as a church mouse,” Charlie added angrily.

  “Is that it, Matthew? They can’t come back on me later? The IRS, I mean? For more money?”

  “All the papers are si
gned. They dropped everything. It’s over. They confiscated all your accounts, they foreclosed on the house. Anyway, even if they came after you, which they can’t, you don’t have any more money.”

  Lisa looked at him. “Maybe we can move in here, Mom.” She added quickly, “I mean for a little while.” She looked between LuAnn and Riggs nervously. LuAnn smiled at Lisa. Telling her daughter the entire truth had been the hardest thing she had ever had to do. But the second she had finished, she had never felt greater relief. Lisa had taken the news admirably. Now at least their relationship could take on a semblance of normalcy.

  Riggs looked at LuAnn, a little nervous himself. “I was thinking along those lines myself.” He swallowed hard. “Can you excuse us for a minute?” he asked Charlie and Lisa.

  He took LuAnn by the arm and they left the room. Charlie and Lisa watched them go and then exchanged smiles.