closed herself in the trunk of a car?”
Michaela nodded at Maggie. “She did, and spent a good part of the night in it. She planned to get out the same way. She confirmed what you told me, Cate. She’d shoot you, then write your mother’s name on the floor, figuring we’d snap Dupont right up, throw her in prison.”
“Crazy and stupid,” Maggie decided.
“It came too close to working.” Julia linked her hands together.
“I don’t think so. It’s what she meant to do,” Cate added, “but her voice was shaking. Her hand wasn’t that steady either. And she’s . . . gullible.”
“Lethal enough to poison an old man in a ballroom full of people.” Red took the whiskey Hugh gave him. “Bold as that was, it’s different from looking somebody in the eye and pulling a trigger.”
“And all to frame my mother.”
Michaela waited while Consuela brought in fresh coffee, a Coke for Cate, and one for Dillon.
“Sparks convinced her Dupont was behind all of it, and he was just her dupe. He convinced her he was in love with her, that Dupont was the enemy. She helped him arrange Denby’s murder, paid the kill fee herself. Same for Scarpetti’s. She sees that as evening the scales. She doesn’t believe he stabbed himself so I don’t think he told her. She’s convinced Charlotte tried to have him killed.”
“Like Mic said, she helped with Denby and Scarpetti,” Red put in. “Helped set those up, and helped set me up. She’s made the last couple of calls for him, those recordings.”
“For what she saw as love,” Cate murmured. “She’s not that different from my mother.”
“She’ll be doing a lot more time than Dupont.” Red swallowed whiskey. “Conspiracy to murder, two counts, murder in the first, one count, attempted murder, one count. The break-in with a deadly today. She’s cooked. There’s another one in Sparks’s column.”
“He’ll be doing a lot more time himself,” Michaela added. “As in the rest of his life. My . . . consultant and I are going to enjoy paying him a visit.”
“Bet your ass we are.”
“We owe you again.”
Red jabbed a finger toward Hugh. “Not a goddamn thing. The kids there took care of most of this mess themselves. I have a feeling Sparks is going to be pissed off his lawyer went out on her own this way.” He downed the rest of the whiskey. “Are you ready to go find out?”
“More than.”
“If you’re back by seven-thirty, come to dinner. Your family, too, Michaela.” Lily walked to her, took her hands. “All of you, dinner tonight at Sullivan’s Rest. Family dinner. Bless your heart, Consuela, I’m going to help you cook.”
“Oh, no, Miss Lily. Por favor.”
“We’d better get on our way then. Who’s driving, Mic?”
“I’m the sheriff.”
Cate got to her feet. “I could use some air, a walk. I’ll help Lily help you later, Consuela.”
“Muy bien.”
“We’ll walk.” Dillon rose. “I’ll be home in a bit to finish up.”
“No. You stay.” Julia went to him, hugged him. “Gram and I have it. You stay. We’ll be back for dinner.”
“Thanks.”
Maggie snapped her fingers at the dogs, who scrambled right up. “Come on home. You can herd some cattle.”
“Go on, take your walk.” Aidan looked at Dillon. “You’re in good hands.”
So he walked with Cate, turning his steps toward the beach as he knew she wanted.
“Here’s something I’m always going to see, and that’s always going to make me feel safe,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“You, holding that woman’s gun in one hand while you dragged her off me with the other. Just pulled her up one-handed, shoved her into a chair, and told the dogs to guard her. Up until that moment, everything I did was adrenaline fueled. My heart pounding, sweat going down my back. Then you did that, and everything just calmed down.”
“For you, maybe.” He turned his head, kissed her temple. “Scared the crap out of me.”
“I know. I heard it. You were scared for me, but you didn’t let her see it. I’m glad you didn’t. And I didn’t. I want them to both spend years in prison knowing we’re not afraid of them.”
She brought his hand to her cheek, turned her lips into his palm. “That part’s over. But you have to know my mother’s going to go full out on this. Sparks and Rowe handed her a gift. The publicity’s going to be all over.”
“I don’t care about that.” He paused at the steps of the beach, turned her to him. “Do you?”
She studied his face, let his voice play in her head. “You really don’t?”
“I care about you, our family, the dogs, the ranch. I care about a lot of things. That one doesn’t even make the bottom of the list.”
“Then I don’t care either. I really don’t care. How about you marry me?”
“How about I do?”
She took his hand again, and together they walked down the steps, over the sand toward the sea.