The.45 Lorna dropped when Bud shot her.
I didn’t bother to question how it got eight feet out of the kitchen. Instead, I scrambled for it as fast as I could.
“There he is!” I pointed, stretching out, reaching for the gun, wrapping my hand around the butt and bringing it around to Holly, thumbing off the safety, aiming at her head and squeezing the trigger.
Click.
Empty. Stupid Lorna had run out of bullets.
Which was why I freaking hated automatics.
This delighted Holly.
“Jack, I wish you could have seen your face when you fired and nothing happened. It was priceless. You would have killed me too. Damn, that was fast. I didn’t even have time to bring my gun up.”
I blew out a deep breath and came very close to crying.
“Maybe you can load it with that M &M you found.”
I clenched my teeth, determined not to let her see me break down. And then my cat, my mean, stupid, annoying as hell cat, came out from behind the easy chair and touched his head to my hand, demanding to be petted.
I held him close.
“Do you have a cat carrier?”
“Closet. On your left.”
Holly went to the closet, took out the small cage, and
tossed it to the floor.
“Pack him up. It’s time to go.”
The next few minutes were a blur. I crated Mr. Friskers and the four of us left my apartment, went down the stairs, and climbed into my car. Holly and Latham in the back, me and the cat in the front. I drove.
“Get on the expressway, head for Elk Grove. Anything funny and I kill Latham, then you. You remember how good a shot I am.”
“I remember you missed me at Diane Kork’s house.”
“Missed you? I nicked your ear. That’s what I was aiming at. I didn’t want to kill you, Jack.”
“Why not? You could have killed me a dozen times already. Why haven’t you? Why go through all of this?”
“I’ll tell you when we get there.”
I didn’t think I wanted to know the answer.
CHAPTER 48
PHIN IS LIGHT-HEADED. He figures he’s lost at least two pints of blood, probably more. Even a slight movement in his wrists sends ripples of agony up his arms.
But the wire is bending. He can feel it.
“How you doing, Harry Harry?”
“I’m ecstatic. After all, it’s my wedding day.”
“Don’t feel bad. All marriages start out a little rocky.”
Harry snorts. “When I asked for her hand in marriage, I didn’t expect her to cut mine off.”
Phin grimaces, the wire grinding against exposed tendons. But he’s got almost a full inch of play now. Just a little bit more and he’ll be able to get his hand free.
“What was I thinking, Phin? That a woman like Holly would marry me. She’s beautiful, smart, sexy…”
“A lunatic.”
“We all have our little faults. You know what the sad part is? I didn’t even see it coming. I was all caught up in myself, and I never stopped and questioned what was going on.”
“It happens, McGlade. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I had no clue. Not one. We talked. We laughed. Even the sex was good. I mean, I’m no porn star, but what I lack in size I make up for in speed.”
Phin offers a weak chuckle. He pulls hard, trying to slide his right hand out of the wire. His wrist is slick with blood, and he’s got his binding almost up to his thumb.
“But it seemed genuine. For that thirty seconds, she really seemed to be enjoying herself.”
“You lasted thirty seconds? What are you, Superman?”
Harry laughs, but it comes out forced. “Okay, maybe I was inflating the numbers a little bit to impress you. But that’s not the point. The point is, I was so wrapped up in myself, I had no idea I was marrying a crazy woman who wanted to kill me.”
Phin grunts in pain. He’s almost there. “Self-delusion is a powerful thing, Harry.”
“Except my self-delusion killed us both.”
“Try to stay positive.”
“I am positive. I’m positive we’re both going to die.”
“We’re not dead yet. And I think I’ve got something to make you feel a little better.”
“Nothing can make me feel better. Except maybe killing that damn rat who ate all of my damn fingers.”
“This will.”
Phin yells, tugging as hard as he can, and his battered wrist pops out of the wire.
He’s free.
Phin brings his hands around and looks at his wrists.
Ugly. Most suicides looked better.
“Phin? Are you okay?”
Phin tugs off his tie, wraps it around his right wrist, and ties a knot using his teeth.
“I got my hands free. I’m working on my legs.”
He takes off his shirt next, winding it around his left wrist, trying to stop the blood. Then he digs into his cowboy boot, and pulls out the Kabar folding knife he keeps strapped to his calf. It’s a seriously tough piece of hardware, with a three-inch serrated steel blade that can cut through a car door.
Phin slips the blade between the wire and his ankle and twists. The heavy gauge wire breaks with a ping sound.
“Phin? How you doing, man? Let me tell you, if you get us out of here, you’ll be my best friend in the whole world.”
Phin switches legs, prying at the wire. “That’s okay, Harry. I’ll help you anyway.”
The second wire snaps free, and Phin gets to his feet. He’s dizzy, but exhilarated. He turns around, looks at Harry.
The poor guy’s hand looks like a well-done filet mignon.
“You free?”
“I’m free.”
“Phin, you magnificent bastard! I love you. I’m going to make you a character on Fatal Autonomy. I think Ricky Schroder is looking for work.”
“What the hell does Fatal Autonomy mean, anyway?”
“I dunno. The network thought it sounded cool. How’s my hand look?”
“Like it should have a baked potato right next to it.”
“Hurry up and cut me free. And get this filthy rusty brush out of my leg. I can feel the lockjaw setting in.”
Phin takes a step toward McGlade, then hears a car pull into the docking bay.
Holly’s back.
He goes to the table, looking for a gun. There’s plenty of reloading equipment: scales, empty shells, lead ingots, a bullet mold, even some baton rounds. But no guns.
The garage door opens.
Phin considers facing her head-on. But he’s weak, and woozy, and only armed with a knife. Holly is a martial arts champ and probably armed to the teeth.
Still, he has to try.
“I’m going to try and stop her, Harry.”
“Can you cut me loose first?”
“No time.”
“At least pull out these nails. Phin!”
Phin grips the Kabar in his weakening hand and quickly locates a good place of attack.
“Stay quiet, Harry Harry. This will all work out.”
But the words feel like a lie leaving his mouth.
CHAPTER 49
ALEX MAKES JACK open the garage door. She’s never been this excited before. She’s killed many people, and has always taken pleasure from the act, but she’s practically giddy with joy at what lies ahead.
Four victims. Plus a cat. Good for a week of entertainment. Possibly two, if she restrains herself a little bit.
“Get the cat,” she orders Jack. Her gun points at Jack’s face. She flinches. The cop doesn’t like guns being pointed at her. That will make what’s coming up very interesting.
“How about the videos?” Jack asked.
Why would Jack be so interested in the videos? Alex keeps the pistol on Jack’s head and digs her hands into the plastic Jewel bag.
There’s a very big surprise at the bottom. Underneath the VHS tapes is a plastic bag containing a hunting knife. Alex holds it up, her pupils dilating.
“Was this my brother’s knife?”
Jack doesn’t answer. But she doesn’t have to. Alex quickly tears away the plastic and grips the weapon in her left hand. There’s still some dried blood clinging to the blade. From the last time Charles used it.