InSight

had the plague. I’ll fill you in. Abby will be fine, as will most of the people your doctor friend experimented on. Oh, and by the way, he hasn’t shut his mouth since the police took him into custody. Your friend Herbie is talking a blue streak.”
    “That’s what Norm said,” Conti added. “When he finishes blabbing no one in this town will look you in the eye, unless it’s through the bars of a cell.”
    How could this have happened? She saw the building explode on television. No one could have gotten out alive. But Abigael escaped and so had Herbert’s detritus. Think, Carlotta. Think. Everyone has a price. Even these two.
    “I’ll pay whatever you want. You, McCallister. You’d have more money than you could ever make as a cop. My daughter-in-law could have all the things you can’t afford to give her.”
    “Will that money give Abby back her sight, Mrs. Gentry, or the life you stole from her? Will it give back her child? Your grandchild?” McCallister snorted. “No. Stuff your money. It’s no good to her, and it’s no good to me.”
    “Talk sense into your friend, Conti. Think about your needs. Security. Whatever you and your partner want to do. Travel, see the world.”
    “I’m a simple man,” Conti said, “and I’ve seen enough of the world. I don’t need much. Besides, I’ve caused enough damage working for dirty money, and I still have a bad taste in my mouth to remind me. Naw , I’m fine the way things are. But thanks anyway.”
    “What’s wrong with you two? I’m offering you a life out of the realm of your possibilities. Without that recorder, it’s Scanlon’s word and everyone else’s against mine. Me, Carlotta Gentry.” The two men looked at her. Neither moved. She squared her shoulders. “A million dollars each,” she said, unable to smother the tone of desperation. “For the recorder. A million dollars to forget it exists. That’s not chump change, gentlemen. A million fucking dollars. Did I mention, each?”
    Conti reached inside his jacket and extracted the gun she kept in her bedside drawer. The gun she’d planned to leave behind because she couldn’t take it on the plane. He laid it on the outdoor table and pulled his own from a shoulder holster.
    She forced her gaze away from the weapon. “Didn’t you hear me?” Her voice trembled, but she didn’t care now. “Two million. Two million dollars each.”
    “Do you know what it’s like to be locked up, Mrs. Gentry?” Conti said. “I do. Small cell. No privileges. Food you wouldn’t feed your dog. Of course, I was shackled and beaten by the enemy. You’ll only be at the mercy of a prison full of women you wouldn’t let clean your shoes on the outside. They’ll know it and they’ll be calling the shots. Maybe money will get you better treatment. Promise them the two-million-dollar bribe. It might help. But they’ll know your money’s gone.” He took the recorder from McCallister’s hand. “We played this to a federal judge. He ordered all your U.S. accounts frozen, and they’ll find the offshore ones. Count on it.”
    He walked around her, barely able to hide a smirk. The bastard’s enjoying this.
    “How old are you?” he continued. “Sixty? Sixty-five? By the time you get out, if you get out, you’ll be so old, if there’s any money left you’ll need it for a nursing home.” Conti shook his head. “Pity.”
    She couldn’t bluff her way out of this. Not with a verbal confession. No pleading with Abigael’s lover. The cop’s eyes darted back and forth, straining to follow the conversation. Eyes filled with hate whenever he looked at her.
    “We’ll see,” she said defiantly. But she knew Conti was right. She couldn’t live in a cage, subservient to a bunch of lowlifes. They’d love nothing better than to diminish her. Conti walked inside, picked up the phone. He dialed a number and spoke into the receiver.
    “The police will be here shortly,” he said when he hung up. “I told them you were about to skip bail.”
    She collapsed into a seat at the table. How could these men stroll into her home and get the better of her?
    McCallister slid the gun in front of her. “You know why I’m offering you this out? Because I don’t want a trial that could linger for months to add to what Abby has already gone through. She’d relive her daughter’s death and that frightening time with your son, events you set in motion, not to mention waking up to a dark world. Do one good deed