Theo slammed the door shut and rolled to his left. Another shot rang out from somewhere inside the barn, and the bullet popped through the door behind him. Theo kept rolling, working his way along the side of the barn, but it was as if the shooter knew where he was headed. Rapid gunfire – at least a dozen quick shots – sent shattered pieces of the barn flying at his heels, and he had to roll as fast as he could to stay ahead of the trail of bullets. The shooting suddenly stopped, but Theo wasn't about to wait for it to start again. He opened a door at the barn's midpoint and ducked into a stall. This one was empty, but Theo could hear the neighing and clamor of startled horses all over the barn. He immediately drew his weapon, ready to return fire, but the shooter's gun had gone silent, which was even more confusing. He dove through the gap in fencing between stalls and kept crawling in the darkness, past horses, through piles of straw and horse droppings, until he was four stalls away from where he'd entered.
Theo stopped and listened. Excited horses in neighboring stalls were settling down, and he became aware of the sound of his own breathing. Then, peering out between the wood struts of the stall, he noticed something just beyond the gate. On the concrete floor of the stable's center aisle, a man lay twisted, a pool of blood surrounding his head. Theo started, but the body was utterly motionless, the eyes fixed open. Dead. He went to the gate for a closer look and saw that the corpse was Hispanic. Wearing Ferragamo shoes, an Armani jacket, and a Rolex wristwatch. A Hispanic with serious money. Theo couldn't be totally certain, but somehow he understood, for the very first time, that he was laying eyes upon the man who had nearly gotten away with the rape of Portia Knight.
And Theo felt only one thing: the deep desire to get the man who'd killed her.
"Just you and me, Knight."
The voice was booming, and Theo recognized it as Moses. Theo was tempted to say something back – to ask if the dead man was indeed Fernando Redden – but it was to no advantage. He kept silent.
Stay or move? It was time for another decision, perhaps Theo's last. He listened. A horse exhaled and fluttered its lips. Another thumped a hoof. The tin roof rattled lightly in the breeze. Every stable had a chorus of normal sounds. Theo drew on his every power of concentration, and he detected the slow and steady click of leather heels on concrete.
It had to be Moses coming up the center aisle.
Then the clicking ceased. Theo strained to pick up the noise again but couldn't. Either Moses had stopped in his tracks, or he had managed to silence his step and was still advancing. Theo couldn't risk the latter.
He had to move.
"Truce?" said Moses, again in a booming voice. It came from the other side of the barn, nowhere near the place that Theo had calculated as Moses' present position. Moses had seen the stable in the light of day and was more familiar with the layout than Theo was. One more disadvantage.
Moses said, "Just throw your gun out into the aisle. I let your uncle go. I'll let you go, too."
Theo didn't believe him for a second. He dug beneath the bed of straw, pulled up a nice-sized rock, and tossed it across the center aisle. The instant it hit the other stall, a shot rang out and shattered the same piece of wood fencing that Theo's rock had struck.
The horses stirred again, and Theo took advantage of the burst of commotion. He crawled through the fence to the adjacent stall, opened the gate, and sent a startled thoroughbred charging into the dark center aisle. He crawled to the next stall and turned another skittish horse loose, and then another. He continued at breakneck speed until ten powerful and magnificent animals were running scared in every direction. Some of them trounced Redden's body – their dead owner – which didn't upset Theo in the least. Moses fired another shot that missed its mark by a good five feet, but the crack of the pistol raised the horses' hysteria to a fever pitch.
Theo began working his way back to the original stall, in the direction of what had sounded like the point of discharge of Moses' last shot. He stayed clear of the center aisle and the horses gone wild, instead climbing through the fencing that separated one stall from the next.
Another shot sent Theo diving for cover. He buried himself in a blanket of dirty straw as he returned fire across the center aisle. Moses was in the stall directly opposite him. Confused horses ran to and fro between the gunfighters, screeching and whinnying as bullets whistled past their delicate legs.
Suddenly, the shooting stopped. Theo tried to listen, but the animals were still too excited for him to hear anything but their hysteria. He was down to his last few rounds of ammunition. He assumed that Moses was reloading, which was perhaps Theo's last chance to make a move. As one of the startled thoroughbreds passed outside the stall, Theo pushed open the gate, grabbed the horse by the mane, and ran alongside it, keeping the animal between himself and Moses.
Moses fired two shots. Theo's horse stumbled to its knees and fell onto its side. Theo fell with the animal and slammed hard against a post. His gun flew from his hand and skidded across the concrete floor, coming to rest somewhere beneath the erratic stampede of the other horses.
Theo thought his horse had been hit by gunfire, but it rose up on its legs and trotted away. Instinct told Theo to seek cover, but he was stunned from the hard fall, and his body didn't respond to his own commands. A rumbling sound echoed above the raucous horses, and Theo saw the main entrance door slide op en. The horses ran out through the opening like water through a broken dam. The barn went perfectly still. Theo lay alone in the center aisle, an easy target. His senses were coming back to him, and he rolled for cover. But he quickly realized that he should have been dead, if Moses was still inside the barn – and alive.
He fired a shot at Moses' stall.
All was quiet.
Slowly, and with extreme caution, Theo rose up on one knee. He found a rock and threw it in Moses' direction.
Still no response.
Theo sprinted across the aisle and hid behind a post. From there, he could see inside the stall. Moses lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling, his gun at his side. Theo went quickly through the gate and aimed his gun at Moses' chest.
"Don't move," he said.
Moses merely turned his head, apparently lacking the strength to do much more than that. His shirt was pasted to his chest with blood. One of Theo's shots had obviously found its mark.
"Go ahead," said Moses. "Pull the trigger"
Theo stepped closer, kicked Moses' gun aside, and pointed his gun at Moses' head. It would have been so easy to finish him off, and so deserved. Then a footstep in the aisle gave him a start. He turned and saw Andie Henning.
"Drop the gun, Theo," she said.
He kept the gun aimed at Moses. "Where's my uncle?" he asked Andie.
"Right here," said Cy. He was standing about ten feet behind Andie. "Jack's here, too. Those were Andie's headlights we saw coming toward us before you turned off the road."
Theo said, "Y'all can leave now. This is between me and Moses.
Andie raised her weapon. "I said, Drop the gun."
Theo heard her, but he ignored the command.
Jack said, "Listen to her, buddy."
Theo's attention was solely on Moses. "You and Fernando go way back, don't you? Back to his fiat-boy days?"
Moses groaned with pain. "Didn't you hear what the woman said?"
"I don't care what she said," said Theo. "Fernando hired you to slit my momma's throat, didn't he?"
"Theo," said Andie, "this isn't the kind of confession that's going to hold up in any court of law."
"She's right," said Jack.