As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Laura said, “Let’s go check out All Souls Shoppe.”

“Why?”

“I’d kind of like to check on Ruby.”

“What’s going on? Is this about her ex?”

“I don’t know.”

He shrugged. “Always trust a cop.”

“Always,” Laura said.

“Always and forever,” he intoned.

“Always and forever.”

They walked up the street. The store was closed now, but when Laura peered through the windows she could see a light on way in back.

All Souls was on a corner.

Laura said, “Let’s walk around to the alley—see if she’s in back.”

They followed the street to Hoff Avenue, the narrow strip of asphalt that ran behind the 4th Avenue stores and served as an alley. Mission cactus about eight feet tall corralled the dirt lot behind Ruby’s shop.

A car was parked diagonally to the store, driver’s door open, lights on, engine running.

For a second, Laura thought it was Ruby’s car, that she was in the process of packing up her car and closing up shop, but then she spotted a charcoal-gray Armada parked up against a small adobe outbuilding that matched the store. She’d seen the Armada before and knew it belonged to Ruby.

The running car was an old beater from the eighties—Plymouth Horizon with a temporary license sticker in the window. The car’s windows were dirty but she could see someone sitting in the driver's seat. Someone wearing a hooded sweatshirt.

It took her a split second to grasp the significance. She pulled her weapon and started toward the car just as two shots rapped out, one almost on top of the other.

The door burst open, slamming against the side of the building, and a man ran outside. Laura glimpsed a woman lying on the floor just before the door banged shut.

Ruby?

The man headed for the car.

No—not a man.

Laura didn’t know how she knew—maybe it was the way the figure moved, maybe it was the shape—but everything said woman.

All in black, balaclava covering the face.

The car engine revved. Laura saw the figure running to the car, saw the driver turning his head to face her, the hood pulled tight by the drawstring at his chin. His face pale in the gloom.

The car clunked into reverse and slalomed backward, the running figure trying to open the passenger side door, scrambling to catch up. Still in reverse, the car swerved in a wide arc—Laura was in its path. She dove behind the Dumpster at the edge of the lot.

 Where was Matt?

She looked around and saw him crouched behind a tall row of mission cactus that lined the dirt parking lot. He sat on his heels, phone to his ear and gun resting on his knee.

Laura yelled, “Police! Stop! Do it now—”

The reverse lights came back on and the car sped backwards, fishtailing as it came. Laura darted to the opposite side as the car rammed into the side of the Dumpster. Dust rose up, choking her. Through the scrim she saw the brake lights go off as the car ground gears and then shot back the way it had come. Meanwhile the woman was still running after the passenger door, which swung back and forth, almost knocking her away. The car shuddered to a stop, the engine revving. The woman scrambled for the passenger side and launched herself in, trying but failing to pull the door closed behind her. Laura, standing foursquare and straight-armed, squeezed off a shot between the thuds of her heartbeat—blowing out the back window. The car took off again, this time swerving for the lot exit and taking out half a large cactus. Laura aimed, fired, and yelled. “Stop! Police!”

She could hear sirens.

The car managed to straighten out and peeled away, wheels churning up more dust. Laura fired off another shot but it went wide.

“Laura! You okay?” Matt.

“Check on Ruby!” Laura shouted.

She ran down the alley, following the Plymouth as it bumped over potholes and swerved to avoid another Dumpster. She was almost out of range, but did manage to set for a second and get off a shot at the tires.

Expecting a miss.

But the left rear tire blew, and the Plymouth jounced onto the cross street just as another car shot by.

A blare of horns and shriek of tires, manic high-pitched screaming, and then Laura saw the car run into another car parked at the curb and suddenly it was airborne, tipping end over end, smacking down on its roof in the street with a shrieking clash of metal.

Laura’s arms were still out in front of her, a death grip on her SIG. Her heart going a thousand miles a minute. The sight of the car going end over end like a domino blotted out everything else.

She heard the loud whoop of sirens ending, and more sirens in the distance. Trotted to the cross street. Her legs were shaking just a little, but her hand was curled hard around her SIG.

The police were already out of their cars, guns drawn and moving around the Plymouth. One of them looked in her direction and she pointed to her badge.

It took a moment for her throat to gain purchase, otherwise she’d just squeak instead of talk. “Laura Cardinal—detective—DPS—there’s a woman down—All Souls Shoppe! We need an ambulance. Now!”

A cop car peeled away and turned into the alley as two more black and whites pulled up. She could hear them working the radio. She looked at the officer nearest the Plymouth, his gun now holstered.

“Dead?” she asked. Although she knew. Joel Strickland’s head and part of his torso had gone through the windshield.

She walked over and peered in.

Alex Williams was jammed up under the dash like an accordion. She looked dead, too.

Laura said, “Should have worn your seatbelt.”

By the time she made it back to All Souls Shoppe, the ambulance was just pulling out. Siren going—a good sign. Matt was there, covered in blood. He’d staunched Ruby’s wound with a towel. Laura watched the ambulance bump away down the alley. “You think she’s going to make it?”

“I don’t know. I think so.”

He took a step toward her. The blood coating his chest and arm was black in the moonlight—shiny and slick.

But Laura didn’t care. She went to him and pressed herself to his chest and held him tight. They stayed that way for a good long while.

21: When Good Things Happen to Bad People

Both Williams and Strickland were dead. Ruby, however, survived. The short trip to University Medical Center and UMC’s trauma surgeons made the difference. It would be some time before Laura and Anthony could interview her—she had a long road ahead.

It had been a long night that rolled into the early morning. Laura was questioned at the scene by TPD SIU and turned her duty weapon over to them as required. Soon after, DPS SIU arrived, debriefed her, and issued her a replacement weapon. Laura was placed on paid leave. There would be an administrative investigation. She would see a psychologist in two days. This was all standard procedure, but that didn’t make her feel any better.

Laura was positive Ruby had no part in Sean’s murder. It was far more likely that Ruby had been used by both Strickland and Williams. The two of them had conspired to kill her before she could remove Strickland from her will.

Turned out that Alex Williams had a safe deposit box, which she’d kept under the name Madison Neville. The number and location had been among her personal effects. There was one lone possession inside the safe deposit box; a Ruger LCR-22 revolver, one shot fired. Apparently, Alex couldn’t part with the one keepsake that could have implicated her.

That was a moot point now.

Laura had no sympathy for Williams. She wished she could dredge up some, but she couldn’t. She thought about the cold-blooded way Alex shot Sean Perrin. How she’d tried to kill Ruby Ballantine.