Part 56 (2/2)
Quiet. Then feet stumbling, dragging.
A hand came through the door, grabbing the doorpost, streaking the paint with blood.
Brett's face appeared, twisted, shaken, pale. He stared at her, trying to form words. He gagged and drooled red. She jumped up to help him. He had prevailed, but he was hurt. He- His body lurched forward, and his torso slipped from around a bloodied blade that remained poised in the air, the handle invisible within the doorway. He collapsed, coming down on his knees, then buckling forward, his head thumping on the vinyl flooring.
The knife entered the room, followed by the hand that held it.
The bloodied hand of Justin Cantwell.
30.
DRESSED IN WHITE but b.l.o.o.d.y as raw meat, Cantwell leaned against the doorpost and gazed at her, eyes crazed, knife ready.
Morgan ran for the door.
A man stood there, Near Eastern in appearance-olive skin, black curly hair, a wicked gaze. He reached for her. She spun away.
The Hitchhiker was right behind her, looking pale and dead, his blond hair hanging limply to his shoulders. He didn't grab for her. He just stood in her path, smiling a toothy grin.
She went for his face with the heel of her hand-he wasn't there. She fell forward, off-balance.
Justin Cantwell caught her, clamping his bloodied hands around her wrists. His hands were cold like steel, their grip unbreakable. He reeked of sweat-the smell from the bedroom-and blood. She struggled and kicked, twisted, but he got behind her and twisted her arm behind her back. His knife went to her throat.
”Uncle?” His tone was mocking and patronizing.
The Hitchhiker was back, right in front of her. Near Eastern approached from the front door, taking his time, his eyes menacing. She squirmed and pulled, and the tip of the knife poked her neck like a hot needle. She cried out.
”Uncle?”
She held still, gasping, whimpering. The knife had to be cutting her. She was going to die.
”I can't hear you.”
She formed the word several times before she could finally utter it in a quaking whisper. ”Uncle.”
The tip receded. ”That's better.”
A third figure appeared from nowhere, dressed in white and looking like an angel. The three came close, lining up like a wall before her.
”You saw what I did to Officer Henchle?”
Father, receive my spirit . . . She swallowed, then nodded.
”And you see my friends?”
She couldn't believe it even as she nodded again.
”So you know your options are limited. As a matter of fact, you don't have any.”
”Oh, Jesus . . .”
The knife jabbed her neck. ”Say that name again and I will surgically remove it.”
His ”friends” were a vision she could not blink away. ”Who are they?”
”They came to my rescue when G.o.d didn't. We've been a team ever since.”
”Are they . . . ?”
He snickered. ”Who do you want them to be?”
Near Eastern suddenly gained weight, turned pale and gray, and stared at her through the sunken eyes of an old man: Louis Lynch, Florence's dead husband.
The man in white suddenly wore a dark suit and turtleneck, the same as . . .
His face changed, s.h.i.+fted, became . . .
Gabe Elliott. He smiled and nodded to her.
No greater pain could have gone through her heart. ”NOOOO!!”
THE POLICE WERE STILL WAITING for a van from the phone company that would provide extra phones and monitoring equipment. I had to use their cell phone to call the ranch's second line one more time.
”h.e.l.lo?” It was Cantwell.
”Justin, this is Travis.”
”I thought I told you to go home!”
”I have to know-”
Click.
CANTWELL TOSSED HIS CELL PHONE on the kitchen table so he could finish duct taping Morgan to a chair. ”The miracle of call forwarding,” he explained. ”But he's going to figure it out. We'll have to be ready when he does.”
”You could have escaped.” Morgan said it in a very quiet voice. She had agreed to his offer: If she kept her voice quiet, he wouldn't tape her mouth shut. If she cried out he would slit her throat. It was a solid offer. The body of Brett Henchle lying in a pool of blood at her feet convinced her.
”My loyal followers think I did. They're buying me precious time.”
”Then why don't you?”
He cinched down the last strip of tape around her wrists and stood back to admire her helplessness. ”I still have to settle my dispute with your boyfriend-if he ever gets here! I was waiting for him, not you and Henchle!”
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