“And get shot.”
“Not if you hit Mary with the damn rock. You’re the hoops star. Pretend like it’s a throw from the three-point line.”
“It’s a stupid plan. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
David twisted to stare him down. “You got a better one?”
Tom gritted his teeth. “No.” He started to move, then David grabbed his arm.
“Wait. Someone’s coming.”
Tom’s sigh was relieved. “The cops. With guns.” He started to move again.
“Wait. It’s not a cop car.” The engine sound was wrong. “It’s got a bad plug.”
“What?”
“It’s got a bad spark plug,” David said between his teeth. “Wait.”
“We need to get her out of there,” Tom insisted.
“You move now, you might get her killed. Wait. Trust me.” He didn’t breathe, just stood there waiting, dreading what would come next. His instincts were right.
He could hear the cabin’s front door burst open, a shrill scream, and the voice that had often asked him how many creams for his coffee.
“Hey, sis,” Kirby said. “Miss me?”
Next to him, Tom’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Now what?” he mouthed.
He stood there grinning at Mary’s slack-jawed shock at seeing him, especially the gun in his hand. Her eyes flicked to the puny gun on the counter and he chuckled. “Don’t even think about it.”
“How…?” Mary stared. “How did you know?”
“What, that you were here? Mary Fran. I figured you hadn’t picked the condo at random.” He looked around. “The place hasn’t changed much since Mom and Dad brought us here. I bet you had Joel thinking it was all his idea. Savin’ the wetlands.”
Realization dawned in her eyes. “You. You were there. You videotaped us. You made us do the other fires. You blackmailed us.”
“I did.” He nodded smugly. “I totally did. I have to admit I wondered what game you were playing-until I heard about the glass ball. Nice touch. Brought the old man down out of reservation lands. Got his hopes up for the big kill. Kudos.”
Her chin lifted. “I wanted him to think he’d finally gotten his great white whale.”
“For thirty seconds he might have, but the balls were different. Even Crawford was smart enough to see a copycat.”
She shook her head. “No. I had details nobody else knew. Crawford thinks it’s Moss’s people. He thinks he has someone who can lead him to Moss, but he can’t.”
“Really?” He had to admit he was now intrigued. “How did you find these details?”
“I e-mailed the webmaster of Moss’s Web site. Flattered him, told him that I loved Moss, too. We met in person and he trusted me. Told me things I used to set Crawford up, to bring him to me. I wanted to make Crawford think his dream was in reach.”
E-mail… She merely updated her old tricks with new technology. “And then?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I know where Moss is. I would have made him beg, like Mom begged. Then I would have killed him.”
“Well, you can die knowing that I did it for you.” He aimed his gun, watched the remaining color drain from her face. “You set me up ten years ago. Today you pay.”
She took a step back. “I didn’t mean to, Jonathan. I never meant it to happen.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Because you never think past the end of your goddamn nose. Where’s the old lady? The hostage you took. Hunter, right? I bet she’s related to that pretty firefighter who caught your glass ball. Where did you stash her? In the closet?”
She shook her head. “I killed her already. Left her body in her car.”
“That was stupid. She could have been your ticket to France.” He laughed at that. “Eric was an idiot. Did you kill him, or was it Albert?”
“No,” she said faintly, her eyes on the gun in his hand. “I killed them all.”
“Even Joel? I’d given that one to Albert.”
She closed her eyes, her throat working as she swallowed hard. “Joel was losing it. He was going to tell. I gave him the first pill, just to calm him down.”
“But when he woke up, he’d still be hysterical. He couldn’t live with that girl’s face in the window. So you decided to make it easier for everyone. Or for yourself. I have to give it to you. You’ve never changed.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she said desperately. “I was only thirteen. I froze.”
“In the closet, with the cordless phone in your hand. If I’d known you were going to play that game, I would have called 911 myself. But I gave you the phone…” His jaw tightened as the memory came back, as clear as if it had happened this morning instead of ten years ago. “And I tried to fight an ex-con with a big grudge and a bigger bat.” He stepped closer to her. “An ex-con you brought there.”
She shook her head. “No. He wanted revenge against Crawford. It was supposed to have been Crawford who died. Not Mom. Never Mom.”
“But Crawford wasn’t home, ’cuz he was off chasin’ Moss, and the mean ex-con wasn’t choosy, was he?” he asked bitterly. “I got to watch him beat Mom’s head in and then I enjoyed a little of his revenge. Put me in the hospital for a month.”
“I know,” she gritted from behind clenched teeth.
“Ah, because you were there. Listening. In the closet. Did you hear him call for you? I did. He called your name again and again. He knew your name.” He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Did you really think no one would find out, Mary Fran?”
She took an unsteady step back. “You knew?”
“Oh yeah. I knew. After I got out of the hospital, they told me they’d caught the bad ex-con. That they’d thrown away the key and he’d never get out of prison. But I kept remembering how he’d called your name. I thought I’d dreamed it but knew I hadn’t. So I visited him and I asked him how he knew you. Why he called for you.”
“He told you about the letters,” she murmured.
“He did. What did you think would happen when you wrote letters to men in prison saying how you hated your stepdaddy as much as they did and if they ever wanted your help to kill him, you’d be happy to oblige? Why did you do it?”
“Because I was thirteen and I thought they’d never get out!” she cried. She sank to the floor, sobbing. “I thought they’d never get out of jail, and if they did, they’d come after Crawford. He was the one who put them there. Not me. It wasn’t my fault.”
“No, it never is, is it? It’s never your fault.”
David watched, horrified, as Kirby rounded the kitchen counter, his gun aimed at Mary’s head. Thought about how coolly Kirby had shot Crawford in front of a police station. There was no doubt that Mary would be next. He glanced at his mother, still tied to the chair. Kirby didn’t yet know she was there, but they couldn’t take the chance that he’d find out. Once the gun was pointed at his mother’s head, it would be too late.
Kirby wouldn’t let any witnesses live.
He looked at his empty hands, wishing like hell he had a weapon. Any weapon. But all he had was a stupid penknife. I need a gun. Why the hell didn’t I get a gun?
But he didn’t have one and he couldn’t change that now. He made himself shut out the fear and focus on a way to get his mother free. He could hear Kirby’s car out front, still running, and a plan formed in his mind. He leaned over to whisper in his nephew’s ear. “Tom, this is what I want you to do. Don’t argue, just trust me. Can you do that?”
Tom nodded shakily. “Yes.”
He looked down at his sister in disgust. “What set you off? After all these years, what made you want to draw Crawford out?”
She looked up, her eyes wild like an animal’s. “He came to visit me. On the tenth anniversary. He gave me money. He said he wanted to make amends. Amends. There were no amends for what he did. If he’d been there, he could have saved her.”
He had to blink at her. “You’re really fucking nuts, aren’t you? You brought a dangerous criminal to the house and you blamed Crawford? Almost makes me feel sorry for the prick. Except that he didn’t believe me when I tried to tell him about you.”