“I’m fine.”
“Stay down another few- Oh, shit.” Al leaped up and Susannah pushed herself to her knees as he lowered Gretchen French to the ground. “She’s hit.”
Twenty uniformed police stormed the area, and Susannah found herself stemming blood flow from a gunshot wound for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Gretchen was conscious, but pale and shaken. The bullet had pierced the fleshy part of her arm and blood was sullenly oozing from the wound.
“Stay put,” Susannah said. “Just don’t move.” She balled up Al’s handkerchief and pressed it to Gretchen’s arm. “Al, get me…” She looked up to find Al’s horrified gaze fixed straight ahead, and her heart stumbled to a stop. “Oh, hell. Oh, no.”
Kate Davis lay on the ground between two tombstones, staring skyward, her white shirt already red with blood. One arm lay flung outward, a gun still clutched in her hand.
Two officers were holstering their weapons. Susannah continued to stare, shocked. She hadn’t heard the shot. But Kate Davis was dead.
Al looked down, stunned. “She shot Gretchen French.”
“Step aside, please.” Paramedics were pushing her out of the way, again for the second time in twenty-four hours. She stood up, her legs like rubber.
“Al…”
His arms came around her, keeping her from crumpling to the ground again as her knees buckled. He shielded her with his body as cameras began to flash. “Just come with me.” He was breathing hard. “Susannah, this is one hell of a fucked-up town.”
“Yeah,” Susannah said breathlessly. “I know.”
Tanner slowed the car and Bobby slid into the passenger seat. “Drive.”
He obeyed and in ten seconds they’d cleared the cemetery gates. “Is it done?”
“Of course.” And exactly as planned.
“Did anyone recognize you?”
“No.”
Tanner grimaced as Bobby removed the veiled hat. “That hat is hideous, but the lipstick is even worse.” He passed his handkerchief across the car. “Clean your face.”
“Sheila always wore this color. I thought it was a nice touch.”
Tanner rolled his eyes as Bobby wiped at the lipstick. “Where’s your gun?”
“I dropped the one I used on Rocky in the grass, just like I’d planned. The other one is still in my pocket.” Bobby fingered the small hole in the pocket’s fabric. “All that training with Charles finally paid off. Two targets hit, using both hands. Ballistics will have a field day doing the matchups.”
“So Susannah Vartanian is dead, too?”
“Of course not.”
Tanner’s head jerked, his frown fierce. “You said it was done. You missed?”
Bobby frowned back. “I don’t miss. If I’d meant to hit Susannah, I would have. I never intended to kill her that painlessly. If Charles can play with her a little, so can I.”
“So who else did you shoot?”
“I have no idea,” Bobby said cheerfully. “Just a woman unlucky enough to be standing next to Susannah at the time.” A laugh bubbled out. “I haven’t felt like this in… well, I don’t remember the last time. Maybe not since I killed that sonofabitch Lyle.”
“Your father had it coming,” Tanner said decisively.
He wasn’t my father. “So did Rocky. Let’s get back to Ridgefield now. We have some things to do before you leave for Savannah.”
Tanner tensed. “Get down. Police car at twelve o’clock.”
Bobby twisted, ducking below the dash. “I didn’t see any police cars.”
“It was unmarked, but it’s gone now. Let’s get out of here.”
Dutton, Saturday, February 3, 12:05 p.m.
Luke ran from his car, heart pounding. Shots fired, Dutton Cemetery. As soon as he’d heard the words on his radio, he’d U-turned and raced back. Susannah was sitting in the passenger seat of her rental car, parked in on all sides. Two state troopers were managing crowd control while an angry Al Landers paced the length of the car.
“What the hell happened?” Luke demanded.
Al shook his head. “I’m still not sure. I don’t think your boss knows yet either.”
Luke stuck his head in the car. Susannah sat, her hands folded in her lap. Her face, as well as the front of her black dress, was streaked red with clay. “Are you all right?”
She gave him a weary look. “The only thing that hit me was Al. Kate Davis is dead.”
Luke frowned. “Kate Davis? You’re kidding.”
“I wish. The police shot her after she shot Gretchen French.”
Luke shook his head to clear it. “Kate Davis shot someone? In the cemetery?”
“Yes,” Susannah said calmly. “Gretchen French. In the cemetery. With a gun.”
“The victim Chloe mentioned this morning? The one who’s mobilizing the other victims to do a press conference?”
“That’s the one. Gretchen’s not hurt badly. The medics have her now.”
Al stuck his head next to Susannah, his expression grim. “What she’s not telling you is that she was standing next to Gretchen at the time.”
Luke’s stomach rolled over. She could have been killed. “I’ll get an update on Miss French,” he said roughly. “Then you’re going back with me.”
She looked surprised. “Kate didn’t shoot me. She shot Gretchen. And now Kate’s dead. I don’t think she’ll be shooting anyone else.”
“Humor me. Please.”
Something shifted in her gray eyes. “You’ve been very kind, Luke, but you don’t have to babysit me. I’ll be all right on my own.”
She’d pulled away even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. “Humor me anyway,” he said, his jaw tightening. “Susannah, I’m so exhausted that it’s hard for me to focus. It’ll just be harder if I’m worried about you.” That seemed to make a difference.
She nodded. “All right then. Should I come with you now?”
“No. Stay here until I come back.” He and Al straightened and regarded each other over the top of the car. “Can you drive this rental car back?”
“Yes. That young woman, Kate Davis. Her brother Garth is the last surviving member of Simon’s club. Is it possible news of Susannah’s statement leaked out?”
“And that she was the intended target?” Luke had already considered it. “I’ll find out.”
Luke found Chase looking down at Kate Davis’s body. Chase looked up sourly. “I’m having a very bad day.”
“So’s Kate Davis,” Luke said. “Who shot her?”
“Don’t know,” Chase said, even more sourly. “Wasn’t any of us.”
Luke frowned. “You mean it wasn’t GBI?”
“No, I mean it was not any law enforcement officer on the premises. No one fired their weapon. Therefore, I do not know who shot this woman,” Chase said testily.
Luke looked around, frowning. “We have a second shooter?”
“Looks like.”
“The bullet hit her straight in her heart. Somebody has a good eye.”
“Yeah, I got that part. At least Kate’s eye wasn’t so good. Gretchen will be all right.”
“That’s what Susannah said. I’m taking Susannah back to Atlanta myself. So what did happen?”
“Kate Davis was in a pocket of people milling around the graveside. There was a huge line of cars waiting to get out of the cemetery and people were getting impatient.”
“I parked on the next access road,” Luke said. “I had to walk, but I got out fast.”
“You weren’t the only one, which was part of the problem. When bullets started to fly, people had already started leaving. It was almost impossible to lock the area down.”
There were still a lot of people in the cemetery, many lined up along the yellow tape one of the officers had strung, hoping for a real-life taste of CSI. “Witnesses?”
“The three old men on the folding chairs had a ringside view. They said they saw Kate with a jacket draped over her arm, looking ‘antsy.’ ” He pointed to the jacket lying on the ground about two feet from the body. “The next moment there was a shot fired and people started screaming. Al Landers tackled Susannah, knocking her down, but it was Gretchen French who was hit. Seconds later, two cops had their guns drawn and pointed at Kate. One told her to drop her weapon. The cops said she looked stunned.” Chase met his eyes. “And then she said, ‘I missed.’ ”