Dead and Gone

“I’ve been waiting to see you,” I said. I had no idea what to do now, but I’d slowed her down a little. I might have to physically tackle her. The men inside hadn’t noticed my abrupt appearance, but that wouldn’t last long unless I got extremely lucky. And I hadn’t had a run of luck, much less extreme luck, lately.

Arlene was standing still, keys in hand. It was easy to get inside her head and rummage around, reading the awful story in there.

“What you doing, getting ready to go, Arlene?” I asked, keeping my voice very quiet. “You’re supposed to be inside, waiting for me to get here.”

She saw everything, and her eyes closed. Guilty, guilty, guilty. She had tried to construct a bubble to keep the men’s intent hidden from herself, to keep it from touching her heart. That hadn’t worked—but it hadn’t stopped her treachery today, either. Arlene stood exposed to herself.

I said, “You got in too deep.” My own voice sounded detached and level. “No one will understand that or forgive it.” Her eyes went wide with the knowledge that what I was saying was true.

But I was in for my own kind of shock. I knew, suddenly and surely, that she had not killed Crystal and neither had these men; they’d pla

“You’re a poor excuse for a woman,” I said to Arlene. I couldn’t seem to stop, and I couldn’t seem to sound anything but matter-of-fact. “You’ve never told the truth to yourself in your whole life, have you? You still see yourself as a pretty, young thing of twenty-five, and you still think some man will come along and recognize that in you. Someone will take care of you, let you quit working, send your kids to private schools where they’ll never have to talk to anyone different from them. That’s not go

And she screamed. She couldn’t seem to stop screaming. I looked into her eyes. She kept trying to look away, but she couldn’t seem to do that. “You witch!” she sobbed. “You’re a witch. There are such things, and you’re one of ’em!”

If she’d been right, I could have prevented what happened next.

At that moment, Andy pulled into the Freer yard, just as I had. For all he knew, there was still time to creep up on the trailer. I heard his car more or less at my back. My whole attention was concentrated on Arlene and the rear door of the trailer. Weiss, Lattesta, and Andy came up behind me just as Whit and his friend burst from the back door of the trailer, rifles in hands.

Arlene and I were standing between two armed camps. I felt the sun on my arms. I felt a cold breeze pick up my hair and toss a lock playfully across my face. Over Arlene’s shoulder, I saw the face of Whit’s friend, and I finally remembered his name was Do

“She has children,” I called. “Don’t do it!”

His eyes widened with fright.

Do

I flung myself to the ground as the rifle went off.

“Lay down your arms!” Lattesta screamed. “FBI!”

But they didn’t. I don’t think his words even registered.

So Lattesta fired. But you couldn’t say he hadn’t warned them.

Chapter 12

In the moments following Special Agent Lattesta’s demand that the two men lay down their arms, bullets flew through the air like pine pollen in the spring.

Though I was in an exposed position, none of them hit me, which I found absolutely amazing.

Arlene, who didn’t dive as fast as I did, got a crease across her shoulder. Agent Weiss took the bullet—the same one that creased Arlene—in the upper right side of her chest. Andy shot Whit Spradlin. Special Agent Lattesta missed Do

And then the firing was over. Lattesta was calling 911 while I was still prone on the ground, counting my fingers and toes to make sure I was intact. Andy was equally quick calling the sheriff’s department to report that shots had been fired and an officer and civilians were down.

Arlene was screaming over her little wound like she’d been gut shot.

Agent Weiss was lying in the weeds bleeding, her eyes wide with fear, her mouth clamped shut. The bullet had gone in under her raised arm. She was thinking of her children and her husband and of dying out here in the sticks, leaving them behind. Lattesta pulled off her vest and put pressure on her wound, and Andy ran over to secure the two shooters.

I slowly pushed up to a sitting position. There was no way I could stand. I sat there in the pine needles and dirt and looked at Do

I have had lots of things to blame myself about in the course of my life. I added this whole incident to the list as I watched the blood seeping into the dirt around Do

For a brief moment I considered lying back down and wishing myself dead.

“Are you okay?” Andy called after he’d cuffed Whit and checked on Do

“Yeah,” I said. “Andy, I’m sorry.” But he’d run into the front yard to wave down the ambulance. Suddenly there were a lot more people around.

“Are you all right?” asked a woman wearing an EMT uniform. Her sleeves were folded up neatly to show muscles I didn’t know women could develop. You could see each one rippling under her mocha skin. “You look kind of out of it.”

“I’m not used to seeing people get shot,” I said. Which was mostly true.

“I think you better come sit on this chair over here,” she said, and pointed to a folding yard chair that had seen better days. “After I tend to the ones that are bleeding, I’ll check you out.”

“Audrey!” called her partner, a man with a belly like a bay window. “I need another pair of hands here.” Audrey hustled over to help, and another team of EMTs came ru

Agent Weiss left for the hospital first, and I gathered that the plan was to stabilize her at the hospital in Clarice and then airlift her to Shreveport. Whit was loaded into the second ambulance. A third arrived for Arlene. The dead guy waited for the coroner to appear.

I waited for whatever would happen next.

Lattesta stood staring blankly into the pines. His hands were bloodstained from pressing on Weiss’s wound. As I watched, he shook himself. The purpose flooded back into his face, and his thoughts began flowing once again. He and Andy began to consult.