Страница 66 из 86
Bry
In the kitchen the tea kettle started whistling, then stopped.
Listening to the whining pipes in the first-floor bathroom, Bry
Not a single print on the brass…She sighed, shaking her head.
A thought occurred to her. Bry
“How you doing?” he asked. “Exhausted, betcha.”
“Not yet. Waiting for it to hit. Got a question.”
“Sure thing.”
“About the scene at Lake Mondac.”
“Go ahead.”
“You said Arlen’s Crime Scene folks searched the house with a metal detector and all they recovered was brass, right?”
“Yep. Fancy thing. Not like what the tourists use looking for arrowheads.”
“And no firearms?”
“Just brass and spent shells.”
“You said they searched the streams?”
“Yep. Found some brass there too. It was everywhere. Place was a turkey shoot.”
As I well know. “Now, Michelle said she picked up one of their guns. She shot Hart with it. And then the tires. She used up all the ammo and threw it in the stream.”
“Wonder why nobody found it. Maybe it was one of those other creeks.”
“I’d love to get my hands on it… And I don’t like the idea of unaccounted-for firearms. Anybody over at the house still?”
“Pete Gibbs’s there. And Arlen has a couple of his boys. Might be somebody from Crime Scene too.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
“Wish you’d get some rest.”
“All in good time.”
She hung up and pulled on sweats, then called Gibbs at the Feldman house.
“Pete. It’s me.”
“Oh, hey, Bry
“Ugh.”
“I hear that.”
She asked if any Crime Scene people were still there.
“Yep. A couple of ’em.”
“Do me a favor. See if anybody’s recovered any pistols.”
“Sure, hold on.”
After a moment he came back on the line and reported that all they’d found were a few more shell casings that’d been missed last night. No weapons.
She sighed again. “Thanks. How you doing?” He sounded shaken. She assumed it was Munce’s death, but there was another source.
“Kind of an unpleasant thing happened,” he said ruefully. “I had to break the news to one of the Feldmans’ friends. She hadn’t heard. Man, I hate doing that. She broke down. Went totally bonkers.”
“A friend?”
“Yeah. Took her nearly a hour to calm down. Though she was one lucky lady, I’ll tell you. She was supposed to come up last night but something happened at work. She couldn’t get on the road till this morning. Imagine if that hadn’t happened.”
“Where’d she drive up from?”
“Chicago.”
“You get her number?”
“No. Didn’t think to. Should I have?”
“I’ll call you back.”
Bry
A second houseguest was coming to visit last night? Another woman, and also from Chicago?
Wasn’t impossible. But wouldn’t Michelle have mentioned her? And why wouldn’t the two women drive up here together?
An absurd thought began unraveling…
Embarrassingly absurd.
Yet Bry
In fact, Bry
I’m an actress…
But, no, this was crazy. What would her motive be for lying?
Bry
Even for professional hit men that seemed excessive.
And why had Crime Scene found all that brass with the metal detector but not the missing pistol?
My Lord, what if the gun wasn’t Hart’s or Comp’s, but Michelle’s?
But why would she bring a gun with her?
One answer: because she’d been hired by Stanley Mankewitz to kill Emma Feldman and had brought along Hart and Comp, intending to kill them at the scene.
And leave their bodies behind, the fall guys.
Then Bry
Which meant she still had it.
On the first floor the pipes stopped squealing as Michelle shut off the water.
WITH A GRIMACE toward the empty gun lockbox, Bry
“Mom, what’s wrong?” His eyes were wide.
“Listen to me, honey. We have a problem. You know how I tell you never to lock your door?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, today’s different. I want you to lock your door and not open it for any reason. Unless it’s me or your stepdad or Grams.”
“Mom, you look fu
“It’ll be okay. Just do what I tell you.”
“Sure. What-”
“Just do it.”
Bry
On the second-to-the-bottom step Bry
Go for the truck or not?
“Tea’ll be ready in just a moment,” A
Bry
Just as Michelle walked through an archway four feet away. In her hand was a small black automatic pistol. It was known as a baby Glock.
Their eyes met.
As the killer spun toward her, Bry
Michelle cried out, striking Bry
The gun discharged once, then, as Michelle lowered it toward the deputy’s body, it fired three times more. All the slugs missed.
A
Bry