R Is for Ricochet

coming down the ramp. Two unmarked cars followed.
    Meanwhile, Beck was intent on his task. He took the screwdriver and jammed it into the workings of the computer, twisting metal parts, snapping wires, careful to avoid any direct contact between the acid and his hands. He had his back to the big plate-glass windows so he didn't see Cheney step out of the shadows with his gun drawn. Vince Turner appeared along with four agents in FBI vests.
    Too late to salvage the data, but I was grateful nonetheless.
    Reba caught sight of them. I saw her gaze flick to the window and back to Beck. "Oh, poor Beck. You are
so
screwed," she said.
    He stood up and reached for his briefcase. He looked at her, his expression pleasant. "Really? How do you figure that?"
    Reba was silent for a beat, a slow smile lighting her battered face. "The minute I got back to town, I put in a call to a man who works for the IRS. I spilled the beans, spelled it all out – names, numbers, dates – everything he needed to get his warrants. He had to call the judge at home, but he was happy to be of help."
    Facetiously, Beck said, "Oh, Jesus, Reba, get a grip. I've known for months they were on to me. This is the only thing I was really worried about and now it's taken care of. How much incriminating data you think they'll salvage from this mess?"
    "Probably none."
    "That's right. Thank you very much."
    Beck saw Reba's attention shift. He looked over his shoulder and spotted Cheney, Vince Turner, and assorted cops and federal agents lined up on the walk. His smile might have faltered, but he didn't seem concerned. He signaled to Willard to let them in. Willard set the gun on the floor, raised his hands to show he had no weapons, and used his jumble of keys to unlock the doors.
    Reba wasn't finished. "Only one problem."
    Beck turned back to her. "Which is?"
    "That's not Marty's."
    Beck laughed. "You're full of crap."
    Reba shook her head. "Nope. Not so. The feds didn't like the fact the computer had been stolen so I swapped it back."
    "How'd you get into the building?"
    "He let me in," she said, indicating Willard.
    "Give it up, baby. The man works for me."
    "Maybe so but I'm the one who's been screwing his brains out. We're just like this." She raised her left hand and made
a
circle with the thumb and index finger. She stuck her right index finger in the hole and pumped it like a piston. Beck winced at the crudity, but Reba laughed.
    I shot a quick look at Willard, who dropped his gaze with appropriate modesty. Cops and FBI agents were crowding into the lobby. Cheney picked up Beck's gun and flicked the safety before he handed it to Vince.
    Reba was saying, "After Willie let me in, I took Marty's computer up to your office. I disconnected your computer, pulled it out, and put Marty's in its place. Then I put your computer under Marty's desk. That one's Onni's. Nothing much on it but personal correspondence and a bunch of stupid computer games. I can't believe you paid her so well when all she did was waste time."
    Beck still wasn't buying it. He shook his head, sliding his tongue across his front teeth while trying to suppress a smile. She might as well have been telling him she'd been abducted by aliens for use in sexual experiments.
    She said, "Want to know what else I did? I'm tellin' you, Beck, I've been a busy little girl. After I swapped computers, I drove over to Salustio's and paid him the twenty-five grand I stole. Marty gave me the cash in exchange for documents he never got to use. Truth is, Salustio didn't give a damn where the money came from. Problem is, I pay him and he's still pissed at me. So I figure to compensate him for the inconvenience, I'd warn him about the raid. That gave
him just
enough time to get his money out of here. So now all's forgiven. He and I are square. You're the one who's left standing out in the cold."
    Beck's expression was opaque. He was never going to give her the satisfaction of ceding the win, but she knew it was hers.

Epilogue
    That wasn't the end of it, of course.
    Beck was indicted on charges of murder, assault with a deadly weapon, kidnapping, money laundering, income tax evasion, conspiracy to defraud the United States government, tampering with evidence, obstruction of justice, failure to report currency transactions, and corruption of public officials. At first, Beck was undismayed. After all, he knew he had enough money stashed away to support an army of attorneys for as long as it took. There was just