“Because I am not about to have another damn O’Hannigan heir come out of the woodwork again and claim what is rightfully mine,” she replied angrily. “I worked damn hard for it. I earned it.”
“So you didn’t kill your husband because you were afraid of him. You killed him because you wanted his fortune,” Josie mused aloud.
The woman’s eyes glittered with rage and her face—once so beautiful—contorted into an ugly mask. “He was going to divorce me,” she said, outraged at even the memory. “After all those years of putting up with his abuse, he was going to leave me. Claimed he never loved me.”
“You never loved him, either,” Josie pointed out.
“That was why it felt so damn good to pull the trigger,” she admitted gleefully. “To see that look of surprise on his face as I shot him right in the chest. He had no idea who he was married to—had no idea that I could be as ruthless as he was. And that I was that good a shot.”
So she had fired the gun herself. And apparently she’d taken great pleasure from it. Josie had no hope of this callous killer sparing her life.
Margaret chuckled wryly. “The coroner said the bullet hit him right in the heart. I was surprised because I didn’t figure he had one.”
“Then why did you marry him?”
“For the same reason I killed him—for the money,” she freely admitted.
She stepped closer and pointed the barrel right at Josie’s head. “So your kid is damn well not going to come forward and claim it from me now.”
Margaret thought Brendan was dead—that CJ was the only threat to her inheriting now. But if Brendan had really died, the estate would go to his heirs, not his stepmother. Then Josie remembered that Dennis O’Hannigan had had a codicil in his will that only an O’Hannigan would hold deed to the estate. Before Brendan had accepted his inheritance, he’d had to sign a document promising to leave it only to an O’Hannigan. Margaret must have thought she was the only one left.
“He’s only three years old,” Josie reminded her. “He’s not going to take anything away from you.”
“I didn’t think Brendan would, either. After he ran away I thought he was never coming back.” She sighed. “I thought his dad had made sure he could never come back, the same way that he had made sure Brendan’s mother could never come back.”
“You thought Dennis had killed him?”
“He should have,” Margaret said. The woman wasn’t just greedy; she was pure evil. “Then I wouldn’t have had that nasty surprise.”
She was going to have another one when she learned that once again Brendan wasn’t dead. But if he wasn’t … where was he? Shouldn’t he have been here before now?
Could someone else have hurt him? Or maybe the authorities had brought him in for questioning about the explosion and the shootings at the hospital ….
Maybe if she bided her time …
But Margaret pressed the gun to Josie’s temple as if ready to squeeze the trigger. The burly guard flinched as if he could feel Josie’s pain. “Now you are going to tell me where you’ve left your brat so we can make sure I don’t get another nasty surprise.”
“He doesn’t need your money,” Josie pointed out. “He’s a Jessup. My father has more money than CJ will ever be able to spend.”
“CJ?”
Josie bit her tongue, appalled that she’d given away her son’s name. Not that his first name alone would lead the woman to him.
“So where is CJ?”
“Someplace where you can’t get to him,” Josie assured herself more than the boy’s step-grandmother. He was safe now, and Brendan would make certain he stayed that way. No matter what happened to her.
“You’ll tell me,” Margaret said as she slid her finger onto the trigger.
Uncaring that the barrel was pressed to her temple, Josie shook her head. “You might as well shoot me now, because I will never let you get to my son.”
The trigger cocked, and Josie closed her eyes, waiting for it. Would it hurt? Or would it be over so quickly she wouldn’t even realize it?
The gun barrel jerked back so abruptly that Josie’s head jerked forward, too. “Help me persuade her,” Margaret ordered her guard.
And Josie’s head snapped again as the man slapped her. Her cheek stung and her eyes watered as pain overwhelmed her.
“Where is he?” Margaret asked.
Josie shook her head.
And the man slapped her again.
A cry slipped from her mouth as her lip cracked from the blow. Blood trickled from the stinging wound. “I’m never going to tell you where my son is,” she vowed. “I don’t care how many times you hit me.”
“I care.”
Josie looked up to see Brendan saunter into the living room as nonchalantly as if he were just joining them for drinks. But instead of bringing a bottle of wine, he’d brought a gun—which he pointed directly at Margaret. Probably because she had whirled toward him with her weapon.
But her guard had pulled his gun, and he pressed the barrel to Josie’s head. Brendan may have intended to rescue her, but Josie had a horrible feeling that they were about to make their son an orphan.
She should have thought it out before she’d chased after Brendan. She had been concerned about CJ losing his father, but now he might lose both his parents.
“I THOUGHT YOU were dead,” Margaret said, slinging her words at him like an accusation.
“You keep making that mistake,” Brendan said. “Guess that’s just been wishful thinking on your part.”
“I thought the explosion killed you.”
“You were behind that?”
“I wanted you dead,” she admitted, without actually claiming responsibility.
But she’d already confessed to enough to go away for a long time. Martinez had been right about Josie making her talk. Now that Josie had gotten what they’d wanted, he needed to get her to safety.
“I’ve wanted you dead for a long time,” Margaret continued. “This time I’ll personally make sure you’re gone. You’ve disrupted my plans for the last time.” She cocked her gun at him now. “Then we’ll retrieve your son.”
She gestured at Josie as if they were co-conspirators. Had she not heard anything Josie had said to her? Josie would die before she would give up her son’s location. That was what a mother should be like. CJ was one lucky boy. And Brendan would make sure they were reunited soon.
But Margaret was not done. She was confessing to crimes she had yet to commit.
