Time Bomb

I glanced at Ahlward. He’d put the gun down on the desk, had taken the knife out again, and was cleaning his nails.

“Proud of yourself, huh?” I said to Latch. “But D.F. here wasn’t too proud. He figured you’d fucked up. Decided to handle this one personally.” To the redheaded man: “You met with her- as Gordie’s assistant. Debriefed her to find out exactly what she knew, found out it was just enough to make her a threat, and realized she was custom-made for another try at Massengil, A better dupe than Ike, because she lacked the intellect to think critically. She was ripe to obey. So you went to work on her. Building rapport, gaining her confidence. Putting on the old paramilitary thing. Secret meetings in out-of-the-way places when her father was out of town. Night walks. You’d pick her up and drive her away. She had no job, no schedule, no one to miss her, no one else to confide in. You fed her secret codes, high intrigue- giving her a sense of purpose for the first time in her life. Resurrecting the old Massengil-as-Satan fantasy. Massengil as the vicious murderer of her friend. Feeding her rage, nursing it, bringing it to bloom. Making her sense of self-esteem contingent upon carrying out her mission. And she did eat it up. Snow White gobbling a poisoned apple. She was so eager to act, she told you she even had her own weapons- a closetful of guns. You got into her house when her father was away and took a look. Most of them were antiques, unusable. Except the Remington. But in her hands it might as well have been a flintlock.”

More winks from Milo. Keep going, pal.

“You spelled out her assignment, went over it with her, putting her through dry runs, until you were sure she had it down. Her sister-in-law saw her holding the gun, weeks before, muttering about Wa

“You picked her up a couple of blocks away, brought her a change of clothes, a paper cup for elimination. The two of you drove toward the school, parked a few blocks away, and walked over. Hand signals. High adventure- she must have loved it.”

Ahlward gave a disgusted look. “She was a pain to work with, took a long time to learn everything. Pure Mengele fodder, destined to live and die as shit. I gave her the gift of immortality, more than she could ever hope for.”

“Real act of kindness,” I said.

“Sometimes,” he said, stroking his gun, “it’s cruel to be kind.”

I said, “You popped the lock on the storage shed and camped out for the night. She with her rifle, you with your pistol. Waiting. Stalking. Just like Bear Lodge. Telling her to go to sleep- you’d take first watch and wake her when her turn came. Letting her sleep until sunrise and then letting her know there’d been a change in plans: You were going to do all the shooting, just to make certain everything went smoothly. Not to worry, she’d still be a hero. Your assistant. Maybe she accepted that. Or maybe she put up a fuss- wanting personal revenge. You thought you had her convinced. But when the time actually came to shoot- when Massengil and Gordie and the kids poured out on the yard, she pulled a fast one on you. Grabbed the rifle. Second cadre wasn’t good enough for her.”

I gave Latch a smile, turned back to Ahlward before I see his reaction.

“Her shot went wild. Of course. The recoil knocked her down and she dropped the rifle. You got hold of it, had to think fast, consider your options. The optimal choice would have been taking aim, squeezing off a good one at Massengil, and then doing her. But looking out the window you could see the moment of opportunity had been lost- panic, everyone screaming, ru

Wink from the couch.

I said to Ahlward: “It must have been nice being the star for a change. Getting the credit you deserved instead of standing in his shadow- such a puny shadow at that. But after all your pla