Part 27 (1/2)

”Ginger, you are amazing!” Harry hugged me tight and I returned it in full, I was so relieved that he was upright and not, well, dead.

”You're making a mistake, Harrison,” Tyler said.

”No, you did,” Harrison said. ”You were my mentor. I had nothing but the highest regard for you and look at you now. A broken man, a killer, what did you think you were going to do? Kill us all?”

”No,” Tyler protested. ”I swear. I just needed the evidence. Let me up, I promise you, I would never have harmed you.”

”The knot on my head begs to differ,” Harrison said. ”And the ribbons cutting into my friend's skin prove otherwise.”

”You have to listen to me,” Tyler said. He began to thrash and Harry put more weight on him holding him down.

”Ah, but you see, I don't,” Harrison said. Then he punched Tyler right in the temple, knocking him out. His shoulders relaxed and I realized how angry Harry had been.

”Help Viv,” he said. ”I've got him.”

”Simms has my phone,” I said. ”Call him.”

On wobbly knees, I hurried around the couch and began to work on untying Viv while Harrison took his phone out of his jacket to let Simms know what was happening.

”Are you all right?” I asked as I worked on the knots, knowing full well that she couldn't answer me but asking anyway. ”I'm so sorry, Viv.”

”Not your fault,” she said as I loosened the tie from her mouth. ”Ouch!”

”Sorry,” I said. Her long hair was caught in the tie. I dropped the ribbon and hugged Viv close. ”Thank goodness you're all right. I was so afraid!”

”I'm fine.” She hugged me back. ”And now that I know you're safe, I'm even better.”

”Your husband is a politician, isn't he?” I asked.

Viv barked out a laugh. ”Oh, Scarlett, you're trying to get me when I'm vulnerable, aren't you?”

”Is it working?” I asked.

”No,” she said.

”Why not?” I cried. I pulled her to her feet. ”If you had been killed I wouldn't even have been able to contact him. Viv, you have to tell me who he is.”

She began to cry and I put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her. ”Come on, sweetie, it can't be that bad.”

”Oh, but it is,” she said. ”His name is William Graham and, oh bother, he's an insurance man in France!”

This last bit was said on a wail. I can honestly say of all the things I had expected, that was not it.

”So he's employed!” I said. Always looking on the bright side, that's me. ”Yes, but ew,” she said. ”Insurance! It's so boring. He might as well be a telemarketer or a used car salesman.”

”Viv, seriously, that's incredibly shallow of you.”

”No, it's a compatibility issue. I'm a creative type,” she protested. ”We have nothing in common and we'd never get on in the long run. Don't you see? That's why I left him. We're doomed.”

”Girls, I appreciate the moment, really, but-” Harrison began but I interrupted him.

”Not necessarily, Viv,” I said. ”Opposites attract for a reason, maybe the two of you would balance each other.”

Viv shook her head, not just a little bit but in a frantic motion back and forth.

”Do you really feel that strongly about it?” I asked. ”It seems to me you're not really giving it a chance.”

”No, Franks,” she croaked. My stomach fell into my feet. I knew what she meant with just one word. I turned to look over my shoulder and there he was.

Inspector Franks stood in the doorway to upstairs. When Harrison would have charged forward and thrown a punch, Franks held up a very large knife. I recognized it from our kitchen; since neither Viv nor I cooked, it looked wonderfully sharp and terrifyingly lethal.

”Back up,” Franks said.

We stumbled backward. Harrison moved in front of me and Viv, obviously trying to s.h.i.+eld us.

”How could you fall in league with Carson?” I asked Franks. My sense of betrayal was acute. I had thought Franks and I had a sort of bond over his liking country music from the States and me being from the States. ”How could you?”

He cringed and I knew I'd made a direct hit. There was weariness in the sagging flesh around Franks's eyes that made me realize he was tired, exhausted in fact. I had no sympathy. None. He had chosen his path and now he had to live with it.

”Just give me the invoice,” he said. ”Everything else can be managed, no one will be harmed, but I have to have that invoice.”

”Why?” Harrison barked. ”Because Tyler is lining your pockets with gold?”

Franks shook his head. A look of raw pain flashed across his face. This was personal. The only reason Franks would have helped Tyler cover his crime was for personal reasons, and for Franks, personal meant family.

And then I remembered that the very first night I had met Ava Carson, she had told me her father liked country music. I had thought little of it at the time, but now . . .

”Oh, wow, she's your daughter, isn't she?” I said. ”Ava Carson is your daughter.”

I heard both Viv and Harrison gasp and Franks nodded. I didn't think it was possible but he looked even wearier than before; it was as if he was aging right before my eyes.

”She was such a beautiful girl,” he said. He looked rueful. ”She takes after her mother that way. She left us for the high life, said we were too low cla.s.s for her, then she married him. He kept us away from her, never allowed us to visit or make contact. Then he called, he needed help, he promised he'd give us our daughter back. My wife . . . I . . .”

Franks broke down, and I couldn't help it. I felt my eyes fill up with tears for the man who had been trying to get his daughter back. Then I remembered that getting his daughter back had almost cost me and my friends our lives. My tears dried up.

”It's too late,” I said. ”You can't save Tyler from what he's done.”

”But-” Franks protested.

”Simms has the invoice,” I said.

Franks dropped the knife as his knees gave out and he caught himself on the edge of a chair. Harrison jumped forward and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the knife from the floor. Just then the back door slammed open and Simms arrived with several constables.

I watched as Franks and Simms faced off. Franks looked distraught.

”I'm sorry,” he said.