“No!” Grace shouted, whirling toward Ellen, but Betty was faster. Her arm shot out, knocking the gun from Ellen’s hands.
“Killer Marc!” Betty insisted. “Walker is nice.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Grace hurried to unlock the dead bolt. “I saw the killer’s shoes and . . . and Marc’s wearing them!”
“Oh, Walker!” Ellen hurled herself in his arms. “I thought you were the killer and I almost . . .” She stopped and swallowed hard, unable to speak the words aloud.
“I figured you’d try to kill me.” Walker grinned down at her. “But I also figured you’d miss. Where did you get that antique? And where’s my forty-five?”
They all spoke at once, trying to explain, but Walker caught enough to understand. Although Johnny’s musical message had been accurate, they’d misinterpreted its meaning. Watch out Marc had been a warning for them, not him.
“Ellen? See if you can find coats and boots, everything we need for the outside. Stuff it all in one bag. Grace, you help Betty get dressed into something warm. Keep Marc on that monitor, Moira. Don’t take your eyes off him and holler for me when he makes a move for the door.”
“You’d better take this.” Grace handed the Springfield to Walker proudly. “I went all the way down to the menagerie to get it and here’s the box of bullets. Marc really blew it by leaving it here.”
As Walker looked over the munitions Grace had risked her life for, a quizzical expression came over his face. “Isn’t it any good?” Grace asked.
“It’s a good rifle, but those are dummy rounds. It makes a great club, though.” Walker hefted the Springfield. “Don’t feel bad, Grace. It’s more than we had before.”
“I’ve got this, too.” Grace handed him the fur-wrapped bundle. “It’s just a big ice pick without a handle, but it looked plenty dangerous. Can you use it?”
Walker grinned as he unwrapped it. “Watch this, Grace.” He butted the ice pick up against the end of the rifle and twisted. There was a click as it locked into place. “It’s a bayonet, a real pig-sticker. It’s the perfect thing for hand-to-hand combat.”
Grace beamed. She’d gotten something useful, after all. But even without it, the trip hadn’t been wasted: she’d never be afraid of the panther or the Kodiak bear again. She turned to find Betty smiling up at her. “Sweatsuit in closet. Help me, Grace?”
“Of course I will!” Grace could hardly believe her ears. It was the first time Betty had remembered her name. As she hurried off to get the sweatsuit, she thanked God this was one of Betty’s good periods. They were going to need all the help they could get.
Ellen was stuffing the last coat in a duffel bag when Walker joined her. “Anything for me?”
She nodded and handed him a bright pink jacket. “I think it was the nurse’s, but it’s the only thing that’s close to your size.”
“Not my best color, but I’ll take it.” Walker slung the jacket over his shoulder and picked up the duffel bag. “Think carefully, Ellen. Did you tell Marc that Jayne and Paul left on the snowmobile?”
Ellen frowned as she tried to remember, then shook her head. “No, I’m almost positive I didn’t.”
“Good. He doesn’t realize the clock is ticking, and that’s a big break for us.”
Ellen put her hand on his arm. “Walker? Who are you?”
“Later, Ellen. I work for the good guys. Will that do for now?”
Ellen nodded. “Do you really know Jack, or was that just a part of your cover?”
“Jack’s a friend. He called me in when he tumbled onto Johnny’s cocaine pipeline. That’s all I can tell you, Ellen, except that I’m retiring right after this one. Is the job as your business manager still open?”
“Oh, yes.” Ellen smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t want anyone but you.”
Just then, before either of them could say another word, Moira called out. Marc was heading for the door.
“Jayne, honey. We’re here!”
Jayne opened her eyes and nodded. Her teeth were chattering so loudly, she hadn’t even realized the sound of the motor had stopped. She half-fell from the seat and steadied herself on legs that felt like frozen poles of ice.
“Hurry, get inside. I will start the heater.”
Paul helped her up into Grace’s truck and started the motor. Its shelter seemed warm, and soon heat would be coming from the vents.
It took her at least five minutes before she could stop trembling enough to speak. “How long did it take us?”
“Less than an hour. We made good speed.”
Jayne nodded. They’d made excellent time, despite switching the gas tank and killing the black bear. It would take another fifteen minutes to reach the police station. Then, if everything went like clockwork, it might be no more than forty-five minutes before the police chopper reached Deer Creek Condos. Jayne shut her eyes in a fervent prayer.
“What’s he doing?” Moira whispered as she watched Marc walk down the hall toward the elevator. They hadn’t answered when he’d pounded on the door.
“Keep him on camera. He’s bound to make a mistake.” Walker’s optimism wasn’t totally wishful. Marc wasn’t a trained killer. Walker could tell because he’d made too many stupid errors, and he was making another big one right now. Walker would have blown the lock off the door. Four women with dummy bullets was no threat to a man with an assault weapon. And then he would have used the closed-circuit system to track anyone left in the building.
“He’s ringing for the elevator!” Ellen watched him with disbelief. “Why?”
Grace sighed. “I forgot to tell you, it works now. Count the times the arrow flickers and we’ll know where he went.”
“I’ve got him.” Moira switched cameras. “He’s down in the garage.”
Sitting up in bed, fully dressed except for her shoes, Betty looked much more alert. She’d played the part of the cornered rabbit again, hardly daring to breathe while her secret friend was here, but now he was gone and she knew she had to help the nice man with the dark skin. “Eyes and ears.”
“Right.” Walker turned to Betty in surprise. “He’ll cut off the monitor. Better find a flashlight.”
Betty reached into the drawer by the bed and handed Walker a flashlight. Then she swung her feet out of the bed and pushed them into her fur-lined slippers. “Ready.”
“Good.” Walker nodded. “Grab hands and stand at the door. Grace first with this flashlight. Unlock it and get ready to go. Moira? Right behind her. Then Ellen. Think you can take this rifle?
Walker smiled at her as Ellen grabbed the rifle and took her place in line. Then he lifted Betty in his arms. “We’re going straight up to the spa, and we’re going now, while we’ve still got light. If the power goes out, don’t turn on the flashlight. Just slide your hands along the railing and keep on going.”
“Movies!” Betty reached out and pulled five tapes from the shelf. “For evidence.”
“You recorded the killings?” Betty nodded and Walker began to grin. “Okay, Grace, let’s move it!”
They were all the way up to the ninth-floor landing before the lights went out.
“Quietly now,” Walker whispered. “Hold onto the railing and keep climbing.”
They climbed in silence until they reached the door to the spa. Grace pushed it open and blinked in the bright glow of the moonlight shining down through the dome.
“What now?” Ellen helped Betty to a chair while Walker secured the door to the stairwell.
“Now we wait.” Walker sighed. “He doesn’t expect us to come up here, so we’ve bought ourselves some time. Spread out at the windows and watch for anything moving outside. I think he’ll try to get us out of the building somehow. It’s the only way he can pick us off.”
They waited at the windows for what seemed like an eternity. Then Ellen gave a low cry. “There he is!”