Thank you for your continued interest. I appreciate it.
I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own It Had to be You.
Penultimate chapter.
Mercedes couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Bethany Reyes was working on getting money...and lots of it...into the glove compartment of Brody's car.
But then she couldn't get it closed, no matter how much she pushed and shoved and swore.
Bills were sticking out, and she swore at them too.
Finally, she used the heel of her very wicked-looking boot to kick it closed.
Meanwhile, Sam was doing something with his phone, and Mercedes was working really hard on holding her breath, because Bethany's perfume was getting to her.
And she was running out of air…
And then it escaped, a very loud, unladylike sneeze.
With a startled shriek, Bethany whirled around, a penlight in her mouth.
And a gun in her hand.
"Oh for God's sake," she muttered, when she saw who it was. "Could this get any worse? Hands up," she ordered, swinging the gun back and forth between Mercedes and Sam, like a pendulum.
Mercedes raised her hands, but Sam was slow to respond.
"Now," Bethany warned him.
"You need to put the gun down, Mrs. Reyes," he said calmly.
She didn't.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" she asked. "Especially you," she said to Mercedes.
"Me? What about you?"
"I'm having a fucked-up day, obviously!" she yelled.
She blew a strand of hair out of her face, which was damp. In fact, she was uncharacteristically ruffled from head, to badass-boot-covered toe.
"Put the gun down, Bethany," Sam said again.
"Well, I can't now!" She glanced at Mercedes. "You screwed everything up. Everything," she said. "You and your stupid, sweet, easy-going, artsy-fartsy ways. This is all your fault, you know that? Brody was mine. And then you fell for him, and he couldn't resist you...another sweet little thing, who thought he walked on water. He was mine first, dammit!"
"But..." Mercedes stopped to sneeze again. Then twice in a row. "...you're married to the mayor."
"Yeah. And he's also a financial planner, don't forget. I can't, because he's always working. He's a workaholic whose lover is his job. And the great thing for him, is that his lover doesn't care that he stopped working out and snores."
Mercedes just stared at her.
"So you started sleeping with the town clerk?"
"Brody fell in love with me," Bethany said, jabbing the gun near Mercedes' face. "he said he needed a seasoned woman, one who knew what to do with a man. He said that no one else could keep up with him. Well, I managed to keep up with him just fine. I gave him whatever he wanted."
Mercedes didn't want to think about what that meant.
She sneezed again.
"Stop that!" Bethany yelled.
"It's your perfume. And you're making me nervous. Why do you even have a gun?" Mercedes asked.
"We live in Washington. Everyone has a gun."
Bethany's eyes were dialed to straight-up, bat-shit crazy. She was flushed, and her hair was sticking to her face.
"Is it hot in here? It feels hot in here. Fucking hot flashes. It's the twenty-first century, and we can't cure hot flashes," she ranted.
"I wasn't the only one Brody was with," Mercedes said. "You know that, right? He was cheating on all of us, Bethany, not just you."
"He told me you two were just roommates," Bethany said. "And I didn't know about Mandy, until the night of the auction. That skinny, young, taut-skinned bitch. I wanted to kill him, but he told me that it didn't mean anything, that I was still his one and only."
"So you forgave him by stealing the money?" Sam asked.
"Hey, sometimes a woman snaps, okay?" She swiped her forehead with her free hand. "My God. Someone open a fucking window!"
"Put down the gun, and I'll open all the windows," Sam said.
But she jabbed the gun at him again.
"Listen, smartass, you might be sexy as hell, but I'll shoot you if I have to. Dammit!" She fanned her face. "This is out of control. All I wanted, was to be in a position to frame Brody, so he'd straighten up. But you!" She whipped the gun back to Mercedes. "You went into his office and blew it."
"Hey, half the town was in his office that night."
"But you took the pot, the one I'd put the bill wrapper into," Bethany said. "To frame him, not you."
"Yeah," Mercedes muttered, "I've really got to stop doing that."
"Wesson isn't worth this, Bethany," Sam said. "It's not too late to stop. Give me the gun."
Bethany's face crumbled a bit, but she kept the gun level at Sam's face.
"The heart wants what it wants," she said. "And I wanted Brody. Only, he turned out to be as big an ass as the rest of them. Hell, look at his life. He's sleeping with half the women in town, and no one even knows. I tried to frame him, and he walks. Shit just doesn't stick to him. And the bastard never breaks a sweat. He's like the Energizer Bunny...he can keep going and going. A girl can't do that. We get bladder infections."
She swiped her forehead again.
"Tonight was the night that his luck was going to change. I've put the money in here, and I was going to call the police."
Sam had been slowly lowering his hands all this time. And Mercedes was going to trust, that he knew what the hell he was doing, because, she could scarcely draw air into her lungs.
It was the gun.
Every few seconds, it swung from him to her, back and forth.
It was one thing to see it happen on TV, but it was another entirely, to be faced with the reality of it.
"Stop moving," Bethany screeched, and Mercedes went still. Except, then she realized Bethany was talking to Sam. "I told you, hands up!"
Sam ignored her directive, leaving one hand half raised, the other dropping to scratch his chest.
"You never said...how you got the money in the first place," he said.
"After we did it on his couch, I found a red silk bra behind a cushion. Mandy's, of course, as I learned later. So when he left the office to get rid of the condom...he thought he was being clever, by doing that in the hallway bathroom, so that no one would ever find out about us. Anyway, I took the money from his bottom drawer and dumped it into my briefcase. Then I left one of the money wrappers in his stupid pencil holder, so he'd have evidence on him."
"And he didn't notice any of this, when he got back from the bathroom?" Sam asked.
"No. He suggested I leave first, so that we weren't seen together...which worked for me, because, I wanted him to be the last in the office...not realizing, of course, that Miss Perfect over here, was going to fuck that all up. Twice."
Mercedes blinked.
"You think I'm perfect?" she asked.
Sam hadn't taken his eyes off of Bethany.
"You're losing it, Bethany."
"You think?" She jabbed the gun in his direction. "And for the last time, I said hands up. I mean it!"
The gun shifted back to Mercedes.
"I'll shoot her, Sam. And I really don't want to do that."
At that, Sam pressed his knee into Mercedes'.
For comfort, she thought, and glanced down. His phone in his pocket was glowing.
He'd gotten it on somehow.
He'd been a busy guy, because he'd also tugged up his pant leg, revealing an ankle holster and the gun he had there.
'Oh, God!'
Mercedes swallowed hard.
Did he really expect her to grab it?
She glanced at him and found his eyes on hers, steady and sure.
Yes. He did. Because he believed in her.
I've got you.
His words. He'd said them to her several times now. She hadn't been in a place to fully believe him before, but by now, she absolutely believed him.
Sam nudged her again.
'Right. The gun.'
She didn't have to fake the next sneeze, but she added a dramatic head toss to go with it, bending forward with the momentum.
She was wrapping her fingers around Sam's gun, when Bethany yelled,
"Hey!"
Sam, apparently tiring of waiting for Mercedes to get the gun, made his move without her.
Lunging forward, he reached over the back of the seat to grab Bethany's wrists and shoved upward.
But the gun went off, blowing a hole in the car's roof.
"Mercedes," Sam said, "Get out of the car, take cover. Can you do that?"
With her ears ringing from the close-range gunshot, Mercedes stared at him, still strong-arming Bethany's hands above their heads, with the back of the seat between them.
"Y-yes," she stammered.
"Excellent!" he said calmly. "Do it now, baby."
'Oh, God!' Mercedes thought. She couldn't leave him.
She wouldn't leave him.
He was in an awkward position, trying to control Bethany from the backseat. But then she realized, he was holding back, waiting for her to get to safety, so that a stray bullet couldn't hit her.
Reaching behind her, Mercedes opened the car door and stumbled out, still holding Sam's gun.
She couldn't use it.
She had no idea how to, plus, she couldn't see in the dark to aim.
So she crouched behind the back rear tire, her fingers shaking so badly, it took three tries to pull out her phone.
She knew Marley would've called the police by now, and surely the cops in Brody's backyard would be coming any second, but she still hit 9-1-1.
From the inside of the Lexus, the gun went off...again.
'Oh, God...'
"9-1-1 emergency dispatch," a disembodied voice said in Mercedes' ear. "What is your emergency?
"Sh-shots fired," Mercedes said through chattering teeth. "Off-duty officer and a crazy woman with a gun."
"Location?"
Mercedes gave the street name and the Lexus's license plate.
"Hurry," she said, and peeked around the back of the car.
But no one had emerged.
She crawled to the open back door, using the light from her phone to see with one hand, pointing the gun with the other.
Sam was still sitting in the backseat, sprawled out now, with Bethany's gun in his right hand pointed at her.
The streetlight shined into the interior of the car, highlighting Bethany in bold relief. She was still in the front seat on her knees facing Sam, hands raised.
Her hair was crazy, her makeup smeared, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
And no gunshot holes.
The streetlight didn't light up the backseat, so Mercedes couldn't see Sam's face at all, but there was a stillness to him that terrified her.
"Sam?" Mercedes said.
"It's okay," he said evenly, holding Bethany's gun. "Mrs. Reyes is done now. Right, Bethany?"
Bethany bobbed her head.
A sob escaped her, and she covered her mouth with one hand, leaving the other in the air.
Mercedes didn't want to blind Sam, so she very carefully lifted her phone, just high enough to see his body.
And her heart stopped, just stopped dead in her chest.
"You were hit," she stated, horror on her face.
"I didn't mean to," Bethany whispered. "I just wanted to put the money in here. I just wanted Brody to get what he has coming to him. That's all."
Mercedes shoved the gun into the back of her waistband to free up her hands. She had no idea why, but she'd seen it done in the movies.
Then, she crawled into the backseat, leaned over Sam, and tore open his shirt.
"I love it when you get rough," he said.
"Shut up a minute," she ordered, her voice quivering.
The bullet had gone into the meaty part of his shoulder, but it looked terrifyingly close to his chest.
Just then, she could hear the sirens, and sagged in relief.
She peeled Sam's shirt down his arm and pulled him forward, just enough to see that the bullet had also exited his body.
Next, she pulled off her own shirt and pressed it to his shoulder, to try to staunch the bleeding.
He grimaced in pain.
"Mercedes..."
She leaned over him.
"I'm right here."
"Take the gun."
She took Bethany's gun from his fingers. This put her in the possession of two guns...I Love Lucy does Criminal Minds.
"Keep an eye on her," Sam said.
Since Bethany had collapsed on the front seat and was quietly crying into her hands, this wasn't difficult.
But Mercedes twisted to keep her in sight.
"Done."
"Good," Sam said. "I'm going to pass out now. Nice bra though...isn't this how we met, with you in your underwear?"
And then his eyes closed.
Raw fear nearly choked Mercedes.
Still holding the gun on Bethany, she sank to Sam side.
"Go ahead," she told him, her tears falling onto his face. "I've got you."
Suddenly, the street seem to come alive with police.
The first ones to the car were two cops, both with guns pointed right at her.
That's when she realized she was still holding a gun on Bethany.
"No," Mercedes said, shaking her head, as it occurred to her, that they probably thought, she was the crazy woman with a gun, she'd called 9-1-1 about.
"Oh, no. It's not what you think..." she said.
"Ma'am, put the gun down."
"Okay, dropping the gun now." She dropped it at her feet and then was unceremoniously yanked out of the car and away from Sam.
That's when the other gun fell out of her pants and hit the ground.
"Okay," she said. "I know this looks bad, but..."
But nothing.
She was quickly and perfunctorily searched for more weapons and pulled clear of the scene.
She craned her neck trying to see Sam, around the officer dragging her away, but all she could see, was a sea of uniforms and an ambulance.
Then, there were voices yelling out medical jargon with a sense of urgency, that shriveled her soul.
She couldn't hear over the rush of the blood roaring in her ears.
She couldn't see.
"I need to..."
"You need to relax, ma'am."
"Those weren't my guns."
"They were in your possession."
"Yes, because I was holding them for Sam. That's Bethany Reyes in there, the mayor's wife. She stole the money from town. The fifty thousand? We caught her trying to put it in Brody's car to frame him. You'll see it in the glove box."
The officer wasn't listening to her rant, she could tell.
"Please," she said, "I just want to make sure Sam gets to the hospital."
"He's on his way."
And indeed, just then, the ambulance pulled out, heading down the street, lights and siren going.
And then, Mercedes was once again taken to the police station.
Stay safe and enjoy life!
