Page 173 of A Dead End Wedding

As Charlie tied Sarah up, I took the gun from Uncle Nathan. "I'm going after Karl to make him take us back to the dock. Oh, and here," I said, fishing my cell phone out of my bra. "Try to call for help. Police, Coast Guard, whatever. I don't know if we'll have service out here, but there must be a radio, right?"

I crossed the room, nerves on high alert. Just as I reached the door, a huge, dripping-wet man burst into the room.

He had a gun, and it was pointed right at me.

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Istared down the barrel of a gun for the second time that night.

Then I smiled. "Hello, Brody. Nice of you to show up."

He lowered the gun. "Hello, Counselor. I see you don't exactly need rescuing."

I lowered my gun, which, I'd just realized, I had no idea how to fire. If some kind of safety was on, I didn't know where to find it. "I was on my way to make Captain Karl take us home."

He nodded, then crossed swiftly to me and put a hand under my chin, tilting my face up toward his. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"Did they hurther? Who's bleeding around here?" Uncle Nathan asked, voice amused.

Jake let out a huge breath, then dropped a kiss on my forehead and looked at Nathan. "Are you all right, sir? Mr. Deaver?"

"We're fine," Charlie said, holding one arm at an awkward angle. "But we need to take care of that captain right away. He's in on it."

"I took care of him already," Jake said. "I've also contacted the Coast Guard. They're on their way, and the police will meet us at the marina. I had them send an ambulance, too."

Nathan nodded. "Is my wife all right?"

"Yes, sir. She's with my friend, Lieutenant Connors. Once I got December's phone message, a lot of things fell into place."

Charlie half-walked, half-staggered over to me. "We did it, December. We did it for Faith."

He hugged me, and I started crying. Or laughing. I'm not sure what it was.

"Yes, we did, Charlie. We did it."

After Jake went back to the bridge to steer the boat to shore, I made sure Nathan and Charlie were as comfortable as I could make them. Nathan insisted on keeping the gun trained on the prisoners. "I'm the one who took that guns and weapons for writers course," he said gently. "Would you even know how to shoot this thing?"

"No," I confessed. "I never needed to learn how to shoot a gun."

Then I started laughing, and laughed so hard I fell down on the floor, clutching my stomach. "Nobody . . . n—n— nobody ever tried to kill me when I did corporate work."

Four days and three press conferences later – Charlie held one, BDC held one, and the police department held one — we gathered at the office on Friday evening.

Much to my delight (and the health of my law firm), the police told the world that Greenberg and Langley planted the junkie lawyer story, and that I was instrumental in discoveringtheir crimes. The story broke in a big way in the national news, and I'd already talked to CNN and various network news programs several times. I'd given all the credit to Charlie (Jake insisted on remaining anonymous), and the governor of Florida was going to give Charlie some kind of special recognition.

Unsurprisingly, Sarah Greenberg sang everything she knew to put the brunt of blame on Langley and his firm, but they were all going to trial. Both of the law firms offered enormous sums to settle Charlie's case against them, mostly to get out of the public eye faster. Both firms claimed they had no knowledge of Greenberg's and Langley's actions.

BDC, though blameless for all of it, also offered a settlement. I figured it was mostly so the public didn't dwell on how easy it was to tamper with their product. No matter the reason, Charlie asked that they use the money to create a special fund for diabetes research.

Charlie was finally at peace. He'd found justice for his Faith, and that's all he'd ever wanted.

I was finally at peace, too.

I was also covered with dog slobber.

"Will somebody take this silly dog?" I dropped a kiss on Daisy's silky forehead, more happy than I could express that her injuries from Croc's violence had been so minor. She'd had one of the best dog days, ever, since it was Friday, andpro bonoday was back in full swing at the law offices of December Vaughn. Counting the ones who came mostly because of the publicity, fifty-three people had shown up, and nearly every one of them had fussed over and petted Daisy. It was seven o'clock, and we were all exhausted, but very, very happy.

Gina scooped Daisy up and sat back down on the couch with her. "Is it my night? I haven't had her since she got out of the vet's," she said.

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