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“She found out?” Mitch asked.

“Not about this,” Takai snapped contemptuously. “About the other thing.”

Mitch shook his head at her, confused. “What other thing?”

“That I was Cutter,” Takai explained. “Colin’s male cyber lover. Or at least he thought I was male. It was a scam that Melanie and Babette cooked up. I agreed to help them out-because the new school is vital to my future, and because I know what men want. I know how to hook you, and how to keep you hooked. You are so easy… I created an online identity for myself and I went after Colin and I hooked him, but good. It worked like a charm-until Melanie got greedy. I was afraid she might wreck my whole plan. I just couldn’t chance that. So I had her meet me upriver at the Millington Ferry parking lot late at night. Supposedly to pay her the money she wanted. Instead, I shot her with my Ladysmith. Then I dumped her body in the river and made it look like she’d left town.”

“What you didn’t plan on,” Mitch said, “was her body washing up right away on Big Sister, correct?”

“I thought the river current would float it way out to sea,” Takai admitted. “Maybe it would wash up on the north shore of Long Island in a month. I was wrong. But the law has nothing on me. I bought that gun with a fake ID, too. It’s at the bottom of the river now. They’ll never find it. They can’t prove I killed her. They can’t prove I killed anyone.”

“They won’t have to,” Hangtown said ominously, his finger still on the Barrett’s trigger. “You’ll already be dead.”

Takai said nothing to that, just glared at her father defiantly.

“You say the new school’s vital to your future,” Mitch said. “How so?”

“The Aerie,” she replied. “Without the new school, it’ll never happen. And without this farm, it’ll never happen. Bruce promised me a future with his company if I can deliver it for him. The Aerie will make me. This is my one chance to put myself on the map. I need this to happen.”

“Why?” Mitch asked her.

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me,” Mitch responded, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine any personal goal that would enable me to justify murdering three human beings, one of them my own sister. No, I’m afraid not. No.”

Takai gaped at him in amazement, as if she’d just discovered he was way beyond stupid. “Father understands why,” she said, her eyes flicking back to Hangtown. “He told me so. I’m a Frye. I have this intense desire to create. It’s in my blood. But I have zero talent. I can’t draw. I can’t paint. I can’t do anything. And yet, I need to create.”

“So do lots of people who don’t commit murder,” Mitch said coldly.

“Not people who are the great Wendell Frye’s daughter. Do you have any idea how hard that is? I am supposed to be somebody. Instead, I spend my days and nights peddling ugly, overpriced houses to rich assholes with no taste. It’s not fair, damn it!”

Mitch was aware of this happening to the children of film stars. The burden of carrying around a famous name brought many of them to their knees. Drug and alcohol abuse were common. Instead of trying to destroy herself, Takai had turned her anger outward. “Life isn’t fair,” he said to her. “You can’t use that as an excuse. It doesn’t justify what you did.”

“Evil,” Hangtown repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “She was always evil.”

“And Moose was always good,” she jeered at him. “And look where it got her, Father. She’s in a body bag at the morgue. And look where it got Mother-a lonely grave in Laguna Beach. Because of you. All because of you. You killed them both, you bastard. And now you’re feeling the pain I felt. I want you to feel it. I hope you feel it for a long, long time. I hope you live for goddamned ever!” Takai broke off, glancing sidelong at Mitch. “My shoulder bag’s right there on the sofa next to you,” she murmured, her eyes flicking back at the Barrett.

“What about it?” Mitch’s own eyes were on the Barrett, too.

“I have another gun. It’s in there. He wouldn’t let me near it before, but-”

“Don’t try it, Big Mitch,” warned Hangtown. “I genuinely don’t want to hurt you.”

“He’ll never shoot you,” Takai said, urging Mitch on. “He likes you. And so do I. We could build something together, Mitch. We could be terrific.”

“Thanks, Takai, but somehow I don’t think it would work out.”

“I can’t tell you how I felt when you came to my rescue just now,” she went on, her voice getting throaty and seductive. “Everything fell right into place, Mitch. There’s nothing I won’t do to make you happy. And, believe me, I can do things to you that no one else has ever dreamed of-for sure not that uptight black girl. Get me that gun and I’ll show you, Mitch. Get it for me, It’s right there…”

“Don’t try it, Big Mitch.”

“I won’t,” Mitch promised, although he was thinking that if he had Takai’s gun he might be able to persuade Hang-town to drop his. Maybe this could be settled without bloodshed. It was at least worth a try. Slowly, he inched a bit closer to the sofa, his arm beginning to reach out… out…

And Hangtown fired at him-blowing out the window right next to his head.

Mitch instantly froze, his ears ringing all over again. “Okay, okay, I’m not moving! But listen to me. Just listen… If Takai did do these things, don’t you want her to suffer?”

“No, I want her to die,” Hangtown said, turning the gun back on her. “And now she’s going to.”

Takai cowered against the wall in her torn clothing, her eyes darting wildly around the room for a means of escape, a shield, something, anything. There was nothing. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

“But you’ll be letting her off the hook,” Mitch argued, his voice rising in desperation. “If you kill her, she won’t suffer. She wins. But jail, that’s something else. Think about it, Hangtown. She’ll have to live in a cage for years and years. She’ll get fat and ugly. Now that’s the ultimate revenge-not killing her.”

Hangtown considered this for a moment, his finger easing slightly off of the trigger. “You make a good point,” he conceded. The old master remained amazingly calm. “But she killed my Moose. And now I’m going to kill her.”

“You can’t kill your own daughter.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong. I’m the only one in the world who has that right.”

“How do you figure?” Mitch asked.

“Because I gave her life,” Hangtown answered simply. “I gave it to her, and now I’m going to take it away.”

“I thought only God had the right to do that,” Mitch said.

Hangtown let out a great big laugh. “Haven’t you heard the news-there is no God.” Then his creased face fell and he gazed at his daughter with nothing but profound sadness. “Good-bye, princess,” he said huskily, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“No, Father. No…!”

“Drop your weapon, Hangtown!” a booming voice abruptly commanded him. “Drop it now.” It was Des, blessed Des, standing there in the doorway with her Sig-Sauer aimed at Hangtown and every muscle in her body tensed.

Mitch had never been so happy to see anyone in his entire life. “Good evening, Trooper Mitry. We were just hashing out a family dispute here.”

“So I see,” she said, edging closer into the room, rain glistening on her slicker and big hat. “Drop your weapon, Hangtown.”

“Drop your own weapon, Desiree,” he growled. “This is a private matter. We have no need for any law.”

“It was Takai who murdered Moose and Melanie,” Mitch told Des. “And the trooper down at the gate.”