Unlucky 13

Chapter 84

My hands were flat on the table, but I hooked my thumbs under the edge of it. I took a breath, gathered my strength, and exhaled. Rising out of my chair, I flipped the dining table away from me and toward Donna Timko.

Donna yelped as the tabletop went vertical. She bolted out of her chair before the hundred pounds of tiger maple came down on her thighs, but she lost her footing and fell backward to the floor along with her chair and the fancy bone china crashing around her.

At the moment I flipped the table, Walt reflexively turned his gun on me.

Conklin went into action. Using both hands, he slammed Walt’s forearm away from his head to the left, and using the power of his legs, drove Walt into the wall. He followed that body slam up with a knee to Walt’s groin, then moved to get the gun out of his grip. He wrenched Walt’s gun backward. The angle of the trigger guard snapped Walt’s finger.

I heard it break.

Brenner’s scream was part shock, part fury, and then there was the pain. And Conklin wasn’t through with him yet.

As Conklin forced Walt’s arm behind him and brought him to the floor, I went for Timko.

I’m fit and she was a loose pile of what-the-fuck happened crammed into the corner behind an upended chair and dining table. I threw the chair out of my way, got around the table, and found the big woman lying on her shooting arm.

Her gun hand was flat to the ground and I stomped on it, hard. Timko shrieked, releasing her Colt, and I kicked it under the lowboy and out of the way.

My Glock had also fallen to the floor during the table flip, and I picked it up. Then, gun in hand, I squatted down to Donna’s eye level. I was blowing hard and my heart was still galloping. I was pumping so much adrenaline, I might have been able to fly. But I kept my wheels on the ground and spoke in measured tones to the helpless criminal staring at me defiantly with hard, furious eyes.

“Donna, you don’t have much time. I’ll bet that the belly bombs were Walt’s idea. Tell me the whole story before this house fills with cops and I’ll work with you.”

“Neither of us is guilty of anything.”

I kept going, giving her another chance to give me the confession I wanted.

“Right after the cops, there’s going to be a wave of pumped-up FBI and ATF agents who are going to see belly bombs as a career maker. Feds trump local. So I hope you understand, Donna. When the Feds show up, this deal goes out of my hands for good. Feds will seek the death penalty.”

“I want a lawyer. That’s all I have to say.”

“Sure thing, Donna. No problem. You can call your lawyer after you’re booked. In the years to come, I hope you’ll remember that I told you that your best chance to get a break was right now, with me.”