Page 102 of Accidental Murder

Yanking, she gained control of the gun, bounded to her feet, and aimed.

“Kayla, don’t!” a man yelled.

She spotted Peter charging into the lab. Hanrahan followed, gun raised.

“Vaughn, out of the way,” the inspector ordered. “Miss Macintyre, lower your weapon.”

“No!” Kayla gripped the gun tighter, her finger on the trigger, her chest heaving with emotion. Simmons had destroyed her sister, her clients, all these innocent people. He deserved to die.

“Inspector Hanrahan is on your side,” Peter said. “Our side. She?—”

“I’ll handle this, Vaughn,” Hanrahan cut in. “Move out of the way and zip it.” She met Kayla’s gaze. “Miss Macintyre, I’ve phoned for backup. Lower your weapon.”

Kayla glowered at Simmons. Could she let him live? Sure, he would go to jail, but some high-priced lawyer would get him off, right? If he was set free, she would always be looking over her shoulder. Always.

Simmons writhed and growled. He hurled himself to his side and gained control of the M9. He pointed it at her, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Kayla didn’t hesitate. She fired. Once. Into his shoulder.

Two more shots rang out.

Blood spurted from Simmons’s neck. His chest. He went limp.

Gagging, Kayla backed away and raised both hands. “I shot once. Just once. I didn’t . . .” She turned. Saw Dennis.

He holstered his gun.

Hanrahan gawked at her superior. Hadn’t she known he was there?

Dennis strode to Kayla and gently removed the Glock from her hands. “Are you okay, Ashley?”

“Yes . . . no. I’m . . .” She licked her lips. “Dennis, I’m Kayla. Ashley is . . . was . . . she died that night, not me. She . . .” She shook her head, the truth too hard to explain.

“Kayla!” Eve struggled to get off the bed.

Kayla rushed to her and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Let me help.”

Eve licked her lips. “I tried . . . not to let . . . the drugs affect me, but they kept giving me . . . more.”

“I know.” Kayla cast one last look at Simmons, his face motionless, and felt nothing.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

Sittingin one of the Bledsoe Research Institute offices, Kayla answered every question Hanrahan asked regarding Kayla’s hunches and her discoveries. By the time the inspector released her, Kayla was too exhausted to drive the Suzuki home. Hanrahan offered her a ride. Kayla accepted.

Nearing Hanrahan’s Camry, Kayla saw the emergency techs loading Eve into an ambulance. They were transporting her and other patients to a hospital for observation.

Kayla ran to Eve’s side and gripped her hand. “I’ll visit tomorrow. Promise.”

“Do I get to write about this?” Eve asked.

Clearly, her sense of adventure was intact, which pleased Kayla.

“I’ll give you an exclusive.”

Dennis, who was remaining at Bledsoe to oversee the physical investigation of the labs and offices and staff, including Troy and Blond Guy, followed Kayla with his gaze. No doubt he would start calling her again. She would tell him she wasn’t interested. Perhaps he had changed, but their checkered history would prevent a future.

The ride home seemed to take forever. Hanrahan drove. Kayla sat in the back with Peter. Headlights bombarded the windshield like a disco strobe. Peter attempted conversation, but Kayla couldn’t find her voice. Once, she caught Hanrahan looking at her in the rearview mirror.