Page 98 of Devil's Due

Susannah flipped the knife, and prepared to throw it at Jazz’s exposed back.

Lucia fired.

Jazz didn’t even turn around as she dialed 911.

Epilogue

It was, the doctors informed them at the hospital, a serious but not life-threatening wound. Some bowel resection, and he’d be uncomfortable for a while, but Manny was going to live.

And so would Susannah Davis, who’d been absolutely livid that Lucia had wounded, not killed her. The FBI had been happy to take her back, after all; Agent Rawlins had even seemed smug about it. Lucia had suspicions that they’d been used, again.

She intended it to be the very last time.

Their offices had been open again for six weeks when she went to the doctor for an examination. McCarthy went with her. There was an ultrasound, and for the first time, she saw the tiny gestational sac, with a flickering heartbeat of life.

She couldn’t reconcile that miracle with the cold invasiveness of what had been done to her, but she couldn’t not love her child, in that moment.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, and caressed her still-flat stomach. “Oh, God, Ben. So beautiful.”

He touched the screen, tracing the outline of what would become their baby. He didn’t speak, but she could see the love in his face. In that moment, he was luminous.

And when he got her home, McCarthy made slow love to her in ways that told her without words how deep the emotions went in him. To the bone. To the soul.

The next day, Pansy came into her office with an opened FedEx envelope. She was trying to be offhand, but it was obviously a struggle. Lucia, in the middle of a client meeting, immediately asked for a recess and stepped outside, shutting the door behind her. Jazz, sensing trouble, was already there.

“What?” Lucia asked. Pansy mutely tilted the envelope so that they could see inside.

A red envelope.

“The good news is, there’s no powder,” Pansy said. “The bad news is, it ain’t Valentine’s Day.”

Lucia sucked in a deep breath and took the envelope out. It had JAZZ CALLENDER AND LUCIA GARZA block printed on it. The FedEx label came from a firm she’d never heard of: Black & Foxworth, Attorneys At Law.

“No,” Jazz said. Simple and definite.

“No,” Pansy confirmed, with a decisive shake of her head. “Not that I get a vote, but … no.”

They both looked at Lucia, whose vote did count. She looked at it. Turned it over and studied the invitingly open flap, the cream-colored sheet of paper showing like a tease.

“Shredder,” she said.

Pansy dragged the device out from behind her desk.

Lucia dropped the envelope in the teeth of the machine, and it chewed it into ribbons in five seconds flat.

“We make our own choices,” Lucia said. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Jazz said, and they shook on it.

They were walking away when Pansy said, “Um … I think there was a check in there.”

And Lucia began to laugh, and Jazz joined in, and just for a moment, there was brightness all around them.

“Well,” Jazz gasped, “that was a hell of a choice.”

“Shut up, Jazz.”

“Ooh, touchy. Love you, too.”

“Go earn us some money.”

“Somebody’s got to, if you’re going to shred all our income …” Jazz grinned and went back to her office.

Lucia sat down at her desk, smiled and resumed work.