Inside Out

102

Sam Manelli stood at the foot of the bed staring at the bathroom door. If the aging gangster had ever smiled, there was no evidence in the famous mask, which seemed to have been carved from a lifetime of suspicion and displeasure. The water stopped running.

The old man sat on the edge of the bed, his knees facing the closet. The bathroom door opened and Sean Devlin climbed up onto the bed and sat cross-legged, facing Manelli. Stunned, Winter watched Sam lean over and kiss her gently on the cheek.

Winter stepped out of the closet, aiming the SIG at Sam Manelli, his finger on the trigger, already knowing that the first bullet would strike his square head in the center.

Manelli reacted by standing up to face Winter.

When Sean saw Winter, she slid quickly off the mattress and stood between Winter and Sam for a split second before Sam shoved her behind him.

“Go ahead an' do me,” Sam growled. “Just leave her alone!”

“Winter, no!” Sean cried out. “Don't.”

“What the hell is this, Sean?” Winter demanded. He couldn't accept what he was seeing before him.

“It's okay, Winter. Sam, he's the deputy that saved my life on that island.”

“Okay? This old reptile's been trying to kill you,” Winter told Sean. “He sent the people who killed Martinez and Greg! His people just tried to kill Hank and me.” Winter's hand was trembling from anger, shock. “I'm not dead, you old bastard, your three in the boathouse are.”

Manelli's blue eyes were suddenly curious. “When was you in my boathouse?”

“Russo told your clowns to drown us.” Winter kept the SIG aimed at Sam's head, wanting to squeeze the trigger.

“I don't believe that,” Sam growled. “Why would he do a thing like that and not tell me? When?”

“Fifteen minutes ago. A creep named Spiro and two guys grabbed us. Russo came to the boathouse and said for them to drown us in your crab cage. One of them shot my partner.”

“Is Hank all right?” Sean asked, genuinely concerned.

“Will be soon as the assault team gets here.” Winter took the handcuffs from his jacket pocket and tossed them onto the bed. “Put those on him, Sean.”

“That's not necessary,” Sean said.

“You're a crazy man,” Sam barked. “How does Johnny know you? What reason would he have to kill you?”

“Shut up, Manelli. Cuff him, Sean, or I swear to God, I'll drop this psychopath right here.”

“Winter, he didn't know they tried to kill me on Rook or in Richmond. It was a mistake.”

“Who the hell else would want you dead? He got Hoffman to send those men after Dylan, didn't he?”

“You can't prove that,” Sam protested.

“He didn't send them after me.”

“So it's all right because they only killed everybody else?”

“I didn't mean it that way. Of course it isn't okay.”

“For Christ's sake, Sean! Why the hell would you believe him?”

“Winter, Sam's my father.” Winter saw a framed picture on the bedside table. In it a smiling child of ten or eleven held a shotgun in one hand and a dead duck in the other.

Winter let that sink in as he studied her eyes. His confusion melted away, leaving him feeling every scrape and bruise on his body.. and completely out of patience.

“Then cuff Daddy or I will kill him,” he said with a certainty that he knew left no room for doubt.