Page 66 of Gerard
Gerard didn’t have time to warn anyone. He had to get to Bernie before the other mafia man did.
It all made sense now. The foot, the text message Bernie had received warning her to give back what she had or die. She’d thought it was the realtor, trying to scare her into selling her property.
Instead, it was the mafia wanting their money back.
He bet it had been the mafia guys who’d poisoned Howey to keep him quiet while they’d searched the barn.
Since the last mafia guy standing of the three hadn’t found the bag of money, he would be convinced Bernie had found it and hidden it somewhere they wouldn’t find it.
But she didn’t have it. And neither did the men who’d taken it from the dead guy.
They needed to find it before anyone else got hurt.
Gerard raced up the steps onto the porch and entered the ranch house. As he crossed the living room toward the bedrooms, the guest bedroom door swung open.
Bernie stepped out, her body stiff and her chin held high.
“Bernie!” Gerard rushed forward.
“Gerard, don’t,” she commanded.
He skidded to a stop, his heart sinking like a lead weight in his belly when she moved enough to the side that he could see behind her. A man dressed in black with a black ski mask held a gun to Bernie’s temple.
“Oh, babe,” he said.
She gave him a weak smile. “I’m showing him where the money is hidden in the barn.”
Gerard knew the money wasn’t hidden in the barn and that Bernie had only told the lie to buy some time.
“My finger is resting on the trigger,” the masked man said. “Make a move toward us, and I’ll shoot her.”
“It’s okay,” Bernie said. “I’ll give him the bag, he’ll be on his way and this will all be just a bad dream to forget.”
An idea sprang into Gerard’s head. “The bag from the barn?”
Bernie nodded, her brow knitting ever so slightly.
“You remember I moved that bag from the barn back to the house.” He bent to retrieve the bag he’d packed with all his clothes, hoping it was close to the same size and color as the bag of money this terrorist expected.
The man holding the gun at Bernie’s head lifted his chin. “Toss it here.”
“Okay, on three,” Gerard pointed two fingers down so that Bernie’s captor couldn’t see what he was doing.
Bernie gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Gerard gripped the bag in both hands.
“One,” he said and tensed.
“Two.”
Gerard launched the bag straight at Bernie.
At the last second, she ducked.
The bag hit the gunman full in his masked face.
The gun went off, Bernie dove for the floor and Gerard threw himself after the bag, knocking the gunman to the ground. His gun flew from his grip and landed several feet away from the man.