Intimate Relations by Rebecca Forster (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📕

the word over and over as he moved into the room. He held his arms wide, and let his weapon dangle from one finger. There was no risk to him. Cori had her gun trained on Emi Cuca's back. The woman would go down before she could pivot, and squeeze the trigger on her gun.

"Missus, I am putting up my weapon. Look. See. I wish you no harm. Whatever it is, we are here to help."

Finn's voice was lilting and soothing, but Emi Cuca held her ground.

"Look. Look here at me." Finn made a great show of holstering his gun. "Mine is away. Now, yours. Please. You don't want to hurt your husband."

A great sob welled up from Emi's gut, and nearly doubled her over. Finn was close enough to see the tears begin to fall from her eyes. The polished floor became wet with them. He thought it sad that they had tried to make this place more than it was. The floor was only cement, common and cheap. The room was no better than a storage unit.

"I don't want to hurt, Enver. I do not," she cried.

"Then give me the gun so there's no mistake."

Finn moved in on her, but she shook her head violently. He paused before moving another step. Three more and he would put himself between husband and wife. Finn saw Enver's eyes tracking Cori's movement. Emi Cuca was so distraught she didn't notice what her husband was doing; she didn't sense Cori closing in.

"No. No. No," Emi sobbed.  "I do this for Enver. I do this so we can live. It's the other one. The other one—"

In the next minute Cori went for Emi Cuca, taking her down fast. Finn was on Enver, pulling him out of the way. Enver collapsed to the floor, done in. Finn lost his balance and went down with him.

"Emi. Emi," the big man whimpered. "I'm sorry."

Enver's face was on the ground. He cried as he watched his wife. Emi Cuca lay on the floor, curled into herself, sobbing and mumbling words only she and Enver understood. Whatever was between them was soul searing, and Finn had the awful feeling that he was watching two people die. But it was more than the brutal death of Roxana Masha Novika that caused this. Finn imagined this was the pain of a betrayed woman trying to be faithful to a murderer.

"You good, Cori?" Finn asked.

"Yeah."

Cori was up and holding the piece of metal in one hand as she looked around for Emi's gun. She spied it on the floor in front of the curtains. Knowing the woman had nowhere to go, Cori took a tissue out of her pocket and went to retrieve it.

 As Cori crouched down to reach for the trigger guard, she froze. Emi Cuca's sobs were loud, but not loud enough to drown out the whispers that came from behind the curtain. She looked for Finn, and pointed to them.

With the utmost care, she reached inside her jacket for her gun as she carefully put the metal piece on the ground. Righting herself, Cori used her foot to move Emi Cuca's gun out of the way.  Finn stood. The Cucas stayed where they had fallen, exhausted, and surrendered.

"This is the police. Come out," Cori called.

Behind her, Emi Cuca raised her head like a snake: aware, deadly, waiting for the moment to strike.  Her nostrils flared. Her rage had only been resting.

"Come out. Show them. Show yourself," Emi howled.

"Shut up," Cori yelled.

"Stay down," Finn ordered.

Crazed with anger, Emi Cuca sprang to her feet. Before anyone could stop her, she dashed across the floor. Slipping once, she was still fast enough to take up the metal rod. She rushed past Cori, wielding the thing like a bat.

"Guns will do nothing. Nothing," she screamed. "You don't know."

  With her free hand, Emi pulled aside the curtain surrounding the bed. Now Enver was up too. Wringing his hands, dancing as he watched his world shatter.

"Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her," he cried as Emi lunged for the man cowering on the bed.

"O'Brien," Cori called, but Finn needed no direction.

He was on Emi Cuca, putting her to the ground, disarming her so swiftly that she lay stunned and unmoving on the floor. Emi blubbered, begging them to understand.  Her voice rose briefly and then fell to a plaintive muttering. Enver Cuca continued to beg for restraint, but the detectives had had enough.

"Everyone. Stay put," Finn ordered.

He took hold of the curtains and tore one off the hooks. It fell to the floor, revealing the bedroom in full. Cori trained her weapon on the bed, Finn was frozen where he stood. Half reclining on the mattress was Ding Xiang. Neither young nor old, he looked exactly as he had on the video. His shirt was buttoned up to his neck. His pants were belted high on his thin frame. He wore soft shoes. His eyes were moist and myopic behind his thick glasses. Here he was. The genius. The ghost. The dark web God was staring back at them, but something was wrong. He wasn't cowering in fear hoping to save himself, he was protecting someone.

"Move," Finn said.

The man blinked.

"Move away now."

Finn pulled his gun and raised his gun until the barrel pointed at the man's heart. Ding Xiang pushed his glasses with one finger. With great effort he moved aside, so they could see who was hiding with him.

"Holy Mother Mary," Finn breathed.

Lounging on the bed was Roxana Masha Novika. She wore a linen shift so sheer they could see the outline of her body. The breasts, the nip of her waist and the length of her legs were all too familiar to the detectives.  Her luxurious hair hung over her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and beautiful. A twin, was Finn's first thought. The fingerprint analysis had been a mistake, not detecting the minor differences between this woman and the dead one. He opened his mouth, but she spoke first.

"Ding and I