Ricochet Read Online Free Page B

Savich’s equivalent to
na-na-na-na-na.
He was rubbing Duncan’s nose in his defeat.
    But the message it sent was no laughing matter. Duncan had detected the underlying threat in Savich’s taunting good-bye, but this wasn’t the retribution that threat foretold. This was only a prelude, a hint of things to come. It broadcast loud and clear that Duncan was vulnerable and that Savich meant business. By coming into Duncan’s home, he’d taken their war to a new level. And only one of them would survive it.
    Although he minimized his apprehension with DeeDee, he did not underestimate Savich and the degree of his brutality. When he launched his attack on Duncan, it would be merciless. What worried Duncan most was that he might not see it coming until it was too late.
    He’d hoped the incident would relieve him of having to attend the awards dinner with DeeDee. Surely she wouldn’t require him to go now. But she persisted, and ultimately he gave in. He dressed in a dark suit and tie and went with her to one of the major hotels on the river where the event was being held.
    Upon entering the ballroom, he took a cursory glance at the crowd and stopped dead in his tracks. “I cannot believe this!” he exclaimed.
    Following the direction of his gaze, DeeDee groaned. “I didn’t know he was going to be here, Duncan. I swear.”
    Judge Cato Laird, immaculately attired and looking as cool as the drink in his hand, was chatting with police chief Taylor.
    “I formally release you from your obligation,” DeeDee said. “If you want to leave, you won’t get an argument from me.”
    Duncan’s eyes stayed fixed on the judge. When Laird laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkled handsomely. He looked like a man confident of the rightness of every decision he’d ever made in his entire life, from the choice of his necktie tonight to declaring Savich’s murder trial a mistrial.
    Duncan would be damned before he tucked tail and slunk out. “Hell no,” he said to DeeDee. “I wouldn’t pass up this chance to escort you when you’re this gussied up. You’re actually wearing a skirt. First time I’ve ever seen you in one.”
    “I swore off them once I graduated from Catholic high school.”
    He made a point of looking at her legs. “Better than decent. Fairly good, in fact.”
    “You’re full of shit, but thanks.”
    Together they wove their way through the crowd, stopping along the way to speak to other policemen and to be introduced to significant others they hadn’t met before. Several mentioned Duncan’s days in jail, the sentiments ranging from anger to sympathy. He responded by joking about it.
    When they were spotted by the police chief, Taylor excused himself from the group he was speaking with and approached them to extend his congratulations to DeeDee for the commendation she was to receive later that evening. While she was thanking him, someone addressed Duncan from behind.
    Turning, he came face-to-face with Cato Laird, whose countenance was as guileless as that of the lead soprano in his dad’s church choir. Reflexively Duncan’s jaw clenched, but he replied with a civil, “Judge Laird.”
    “Detective. I hope there are no hard feelings.” He extended his right hand.
    Duncan clasped it. “For the jail time? I have only myself to blame for that.”
    “What about the mistrial?”
    Duncan glanced beyond the judge’s shoulder. Although DeeDee was being introduced to the mayor, who was enthusiastically pumping her hand, she was keeping a nervous eye on him and Laird. Duncan felt like telling the judge in the most explicit terms what he thought of his ruling and where he could shove his gavel.
    But this was DeeDee’s night. He would hold his temper. He would even refrain from telling the judge about the unpleasant surprise he’d had waiting in his home upon his return.
    His eyes reconnected with the judge’s dark gaze. “You know as well as I do that Savich is guilty of the Morris hit, so I’m certain you