Backfire
Page 66
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“No, you’re going to a place designed for people like you—violent felons and cold-blooded murderers, there to mark time on death row.
“You’re a thinking man, Clive, I told you I admire that. But you’re not a tough guy. You won’t be able to protect yourself. And you won’t have any money to buy yourself out of bad situations.
“Actually, I doubt you’ll even last to the end of all your appeals unless they put you in solitary. At least you wouldn’t get a hunk of soap pushed down your throat in solitary. On the other hand, who wants to spend the rest of his life in a concrete box by himself?”
The only sound in the small room was the hitch in Clive’s breath.
Clive cleared his throat. “What sort of deal are you offering?”
Cindy hissed at him, but Clive didn’t look at her.
Savich said, “The death penalty’s off the table. You’ll get twenty-five years, but it will be in a kind of prison you can look forward to walking out of instead of being carried out in a green body bag.”
Clive looked at Cindy, but her eyes remained on Savich’s face. “This is bull, Clive. Don’t listen to them, they’re playing us.” She said to Eve now, venom pulsing in her voice, “When I get out, I’m going to kill you if it’s the last thing I do.”
Eve’s eyebrow shot up. “What did I do to you? I’ve told you the truth, nothing more, nothing less.” Eve sat back, touched her fingers to her ponytail. “Do you hate me because I look healthy and clean, and my breath is fresh and I can drink Starbucks coffee every morning if I want to?
“Get off your high horse, Cindy, I’m not the one here who murdered Mark Lindy. Tell us the truth, and you might survive to see the light of day outside of a prison.”
Savich watched Clive lean again toward his wife, but at the bang on the door window, he pulled back. He licked his lips. They were dry and peeling. Not that handsome now, are you, Clive?
Cindy Cahill rose to her feet, her chains rattling. “I know twenty-five years is way too long. You bring the prison time down with the possibility of parole and we’ll think about it. Clive, keep your mouth shut.”
He nodded at his wife, but Eve saw him swallow convulsively. Good. He was scared, as well he should be.
So was Cindy; she was simply a better actress. Eve wondered if Dillon could get the federal prosecutor down even more. She was of two minds on what should happen to these two violent, greedy people, but protecting Ramsey trumped everything else.
Savich watched the guards walk them out. He doubted either of them would be speaking to Milo Siles about the offer.
Saint Francis Wood
San Francisco
Monday afternoon
Emma hovered around the three big men as they tenderly eased her prized ebony Steinway out of the moving van, positioned it onto the big roller board they used for pianos, and carefully pushed it from the driveway onto the side flagstone walkway.
The drizzling rain had stopped for a while, which was a relief, since Molly knew Emma would have tried to plaster herself on top of the waterproof tarp over her piano to make sure it stayed dry.
As for Molly, she was relieved to see the pinched look gone from Emma’s face. When Emma had come into the principal’s office at her school on Lake Street, her face had been frozen with fear until she’d seen Molly standing there, smiling. Still, Molly had said immediately, “Your dad’s okay, Emma.” She’d pulled her shaking daughter against her and said again, “He’s fine, I promise you. Now, I’ve decided it’s best for us to leave our home for a little while. We’re going to stay in a lovely house in Saint Francis Wood. Remember, we’ve driven through the neighborhood and admired all the older houses, and the big yards, just like ours?”
Emma raised her face. “They’re afraid the man is going to try to kill us, aren’t they?”
So much for sugarcoating the truth. “Everyone wants to make sure we’ll be safe. That’s all there is to it.”
Emma said with great patience, “Mom, I’m nearly twelve. Tell me what’s happened.”
Molly nearly lost it then, but she wasn’t about to tell her daughter about the message the man had left on the machine. “Nothing happened. I only want all of us to be safe.”
“You trust me to take good care of the boys, but you won’t tell me the truth? So I’ll know what’s going on? So if something happens I won’t be surprised?”
Good point. “It’s possible a man came onto our property last night. Everyone wants us out of there until they catch the man.”
“You’re a thinking man, Clive, I told you I admire that. But you’re not a tough guy. You won’t be able to protect yourself. And you won’t have any money to buy yourself out of bad situations.
“Actually, I doubt you’ll even last to the end of all your appeals unless they put you in solitary. At least you wouldn’t get a hunk of soap pushed down your throat in solitary. On the other hand, who wants to spend the rest of his life in a concrete box by himself?”
The only sound in the small room was the hitch in Clive’s breath.
Clive cleared his throat. “What sort of deal are you offering?”
Cindy hissed at him, but Clive didn’t look at her.
Savich said, “The death penalty’s off the table. You’ll get twenty-five years, but it will be in a kind of prison you can look forward to walking out of instead of being carried out in a green body bag.”
Clive looked at Cindy, but her eyes remained on Savich’s face. “This is bull, Clive. Don’t listen to them, they’re playing us.” She said to Eve now, venom pulsing in her voice, “When I get out, I’m going to kill you if it’s the last thing I do.”
Eve’s eyebrow shot up. “What did I do to you? I’ve told you the truth, nothing more, nothing less.” Eve sat back, touched her fingers to her ponytail. “Do you hate me because I look healthy and clean, and my breath is fresh and I can drink Starbucks coffee every morning if I want to?
“Get off your high horse, Cindy, I’m not the one here who murdered Mark Lindy. Tell us the truth, and you might survive to see the light of day outside of a prison.”
Savich watched Clive lean again toward his wife, but at the bang on the door window, he pulled back. He licked his lips. They were dry and peeling. Not that handsome now, are you, Clive?
Cindy Cahill rose to her feet, her chains rattling. “I know twenty-five years is way too long. You bring the prison time down with the possibility of parole and we’ll think about it. Clive, keep your mouth shut.”
He nodded at his wife, but Eve saw him swallow convulsively. Good. He was scared, as well he should be.
So was Cindy; she was simply a better actress. Eve wondered if Dillon could get the federal prosecutor down even more. She was of two minds on what should happen to these two violent, greedy people, but protecting Ramsey trumped everything else.
Savich watched the guards walk them out. He doubted either of them would be speaking to Milo Siles about the offer.
Saint Francis Wood
San Francisco
Monday afternoon
Emma hovered around the three big men as they tenderly eased her prized ebony Steinway out of the moving van, positioned it onto the big roller board they used for pianos, and carefully pushed it from the driveway onto the side flagstone walkway.
The drizzling rain had stopped for a while, which was a relief, since Molly knew Emma would have tried to plaster herself on top of the waterproof tarp over her piano to make sure it stayed dry.
As for Molly, she was relieved to see the pinched look gone from Emma’s face. When Emma had come into the principal’s office at her school on Lake Street, her face had been frozen with fear until she’d seen Molly standing there, smiling. Still, Molly had said immediately, “Your dad’s okay, Emma.” She’d pulled her shaking daughter against her and said again, “He’s fine, I promise you. Now, I’ve decided it’s best for us to leave our home for a little while. We’re going to stay in a lovely house in Saint Francis Wood. Remember, we’ve driven through the neighborhood and admired all the older houses, and the big yards, just like ours?”
Emma raised her face. “They’re afraid the man is going to try to kill us, aren’t they?”
So much for sugarcoating the truth. “Everyone wants to make sure we’ll be safe. That’s all there is to it.”
Emma said with great patience, “Mom, I’m nearly twelve. Tell me what’s happened.”
Molly nearly lost it then, but she wasn’t about to tell her daughter about the message the man had left on the machine. “Nothing happened. I only want all of us to be safe.”
“You trust me to take good care of the boys, but you won’t tell me the truth? So I’ll know what’s going on? So if something happens I won’t be surprised?”
Good point. “It’s possible a man came onto our property last night. Everyone wants us out of there until they catch the man.”
