Mean Woman Blues

Maybe she could force him off at the exit. He corrected too much to avoid hitting a car, then had to swing wide back to the right— and that was where he lost control. His car hit the barrier, just in view of the back side of the new arena, on a little overpass.
    It flipped over and landed with a thud like a tank crashing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
    Skip stared at herself in the hospital bathroom and thought, for the first time in two days, of Steve Steinman. She needed to call him right away, along with Adam Abasolo, then Jimmy Dee and the kids, to let them know that it was over.
    She splashed water on her face.
    Jacomine was alive, with one gunshot wound, and third-degree burns on his torso and face. She’d actually seen him in the hospital, lying on a gurney, unconscious, helpless, and it was important to see. If she hadn’t, she’d never believe he hadn’t somehow slipped away again. She felt like crying, perhaps with relief, perhaps simply to relieve tension. The hospital gave him about a fifty-fifty chance of survival. But there was a piece of her that couldn’t believe he wouldn’t somehow get up and walk out of there when no one was looking.
    She combed her singed hair and returned to the emergency room to find Shellmire. “Some scene over there. They cut me loose to come get you. How you feeling?”
    She thought about it. “Kind of shaky.”
    “You’re lucky that whole room didn’t go up.”
    “You’re not kidding. It could have, easily. I just kept thinking about how many times I’ve seen people smoking in gas stations. So far I’ve never seen it cause a fire.”
    “Could, though.” Shellmire shivered, thinking about it.
    “What was weird, when she threw the matches, it was kind of like an explosion. Just a little pouf of flame, then it went out.”
    He nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes it’ll flash and go right out.”
    “Oh, that’s what the doctor meant. He said Jacomine had flash burns.”
    “Lots of ’em, it looked like.” He stood up. “I’ve got to get some coffee. You need some?”
    “Make mine a Valium.”
    And he left, giving her a few minutes to make her phone calls. When he returned, she made a show of drinking the coffee, which was probably the last thing her body needed after its enormous expenditure of adrenaline, but they both knew she still had to maintain alertness.
    “I just called Abasolo. Good news: Isaac came out of the coma. Looks like he got away clean. No brain damage at all.”
    “All right!” For a moment a grin cracked the agent’s face, but it disappeared almost immediately. There was still a long way to go to close the case.
    “I’ve got a question,” Skip said. “Where the hell was the security guard?”
    “I’m glad you asked. Taped up and locked in a closet.”
    “Might have known.”
    Shellmire drove her to the federal building and, along with Hargett, another agent, and a Dallas cop, listened to her story.
    They exchanged glances when she got to the part about the matchbook. Hargett said, “You’re sure Karen was the one who threw it?”
    “Absolutely. Why?”
    “Tell us again what she said.”
    “She said, ‘No. Let’s burn him.’ Right after I told Rosemarie to put out the lighter.”
    “Did Rosemarie put out the lighter?”
    “I told you. She did. The situation was defused. Karen was very deliberate about it.”
    Hargett persisted. “Did you actually see her throw the matchbook?”
    “I couldn’t. She was behind me. But I heard her strike the match, and I heard what she said.”
    The other four looked miserable. Her stomach flip-flopped. They knew something she didn’t.
    “What’s going on?”
    The cop was the one who told her. “We didn’t find the matchbook. She and Rosemarie both say Rosemarie threw the lighter to save your ass, because he refused to drop the gun.”
    “Wait a minute! I already had the gun.”
    “That’s not what they say.”
    “They.” She was beginning to see what had happened. “Hold it. They were alone together before any officers got to the scene. They cooked this thing up. Rosemarie’s boyfriend’s dead, right? Plus, she’s the one who
made
Mr. Right; she not only harbored a fugitive, she mentored him! She’s going to have a million charges against her…”
    “And Karen comes from one of the most powerful families in Dallas.” Shellmire spoke grimly.
    Skip felt lightheaded. “But… there were witnesses.”
    Shellmire shook his head. “We’ll keep trying. But so far nothing. When