Free The Memory Agent & Fool Me Once by Joany Kane Page B

places Claire's bracelet on the night-stand before he leaves the room.
    Once she hears Whitmore has gone, she hops out of bed.   She gingerly puts on her clothes and
sneaks out.

 
    *****

 
    In a Mexican cantina near a Baja beach Riker sits at the bar, slugging
back shots of tequila, looking quite smug.
    Until Duke shows up and points a gun at Riker's back.   Riker knows it without even turning
around.   “God, you just won't die,
baby brother.”
    Riker stands up and faces Duke.   Duke aims the gun wanting desperately to kill his psycho brother, but
his hand shakes, which Riker notices.
    “How's the fed?”
    Claire, looking pekid from her wounds, enters
the scene.   “Just peachy as my Aunt
Rita would say.”  
    Both Riker and Duke look surprised to see Claire.   Claire approaches Duke.   “Don't do it.   Don't kill him, Duke.”
    Duke cocks the gun, aims it squarely at Riker, his hand still shaking.
    “You are not a killer.   He
is.   Don't let him take any more of
your life.” Claire tenderly puts her hand on Duke's hand, the one holding the
gun.   Duke lowers the gun.
    Which gives Riker time to pull his gun hiding in the back of his pants
and aims it at Claire with the intent to shoot to kill.   Duke raises his gun and gets his shot
off before Riker pulls the trigger.
    Duke's shot hits Riker in his gun hand, blowing the gun out of his hand
- and blowing a hole through his hand.   Riker falls to the ground, crying out in pain.
    Claire approaches Riker, forces him onto his belly with the power of her
foot.   She grabs both of his
wrists, pulling them behind his back, and handcuffs them together.
    “Riker Reeves, you are under arrest for nine counts of robbery and two
counts of murder, one including special circumstances.”   Claire's long-time goal has
happened.   She shares a look with
Duke, a bittersweet look.
    Claire, fully recovered, sits outside of a courtroom.   She's dressed in a stylish yet
conservative business suit, waiting to testify.
    Whitmore, dressed in a suit, exits the courtroom.   He locks eyes with Claire.   He gives her a kind smile as if saying
that all will eventually be right between them.
    Whitmore leaves the building and heads down the steps.   He approaches the curb.
    Duke pulls up to the curb on his motorcycle, right in front of
Whitmore.   He removes his
helmet.   “What happened?” Duke asks
Whitmore.
    “Your brother's going away for life without the possibility of parole.”
    “Not about him.”
    “I hope you realize what she gave up for you.   She's been suspended indefinitely.   She’s sacrificed her entire career to keep your sorry ass
out of jail.”
    Whitmore walks away.   Duke
calls to him.   “Where is she?”
    Whitmore glares at Duke.   He
most definitely doesn't want to tell him.   But he relents, nodding towards the courthouse before walking away.
    Duke waits, seated on his bike at the curb,
watching the building.
    Claire finally exits.   As
she heads down the stairs she sees Duke.   Their eyes lock.   She
approaches him, their eyes still locked.
    “Here.   I want you to have
this.”   Duke hands a piece of paper
to Claire.   Claire sees that it's
the hand-written Shakespeare sonnet from Duke's mom's jewelry box.   “The sonnet you read to me, my dad read
to my mom on their wedding day.   But I guess you knew that.”
    “I figured it had special meaning.   Thank you.”
    “How are you feeling?”   Duke
asks.
    “Good, I’m good.”
    “Good enough for a ride?”   Duke asks with a hopeful twinkle.
    Claire smiles, their eyes still locked.   “Yeah,” she sighs, relieved.
    He offers her a helmet.   She
takes it, puts it on and hops on the back of Duke's bike.   She puts her arms around his waist,
which feels like heaven to him and to her.   She squeezes him, he leans into the squeeze; they both
relish the moment of being connected.
    He rides off as the setting sun’s amber glow peeks through the buildings
of the