Part 33 (1/2)

”Move the camera around, see if you can pick up Darell.”

She put a shaky hand to the console and pushed too far. The camera zoomed in on a blank wall. She gripped harder, panning slowly. To the right, Darell's leg appeared, moving toward the doorway.

”Follow him.”

Margaret filmed him until he disappeared around the office threshold.

Her breath caught. She swiveled around toward the desk. ”I'm calling 911.”

”He may have already done it.”

”I'm not taking any chances.”

Sam heard her s.n.a.t.c.h up the phone and punch three numbers. Her voice trembled as she gave the address. ”Hurry. I think someone's already been shot.”

She banged down the receiver. ”I have to open the gate.”

The gate. Sam had forgotten.

Nothing on the screen. The action had moved elsewhere.

He needed to get it on film.

Sam turned from the monitor. ”Stay here, I'll do it. Lock the door behind me.”

CHAPTER sixty-two

Darell yanked open his desk drawer and extracted his gun. A Glock 17-possibly the same model Craig wielded. It was fully loaded. Darell had inspected it this morning when he moved it from his bedroom nightstand where he kept it.

He transferred his cane to his left hand and clutched the gun with his right.

Darell hurried from the office. Pete Lynch lay in the hallway.

Darell stopped and cranked his body into a stoop. He reached out his gnarled hand holding the Glock, hovered his knuckles in front of Pete's nose.

No air.

With effort he straightened. He cast desperate looks around the body. No sign of Pete's gun either. Craig had taken it. He was after Kaitlan.

Idiot girl had been screaming like a banshee. Where had she gone?

Darell turned around to peer at his bedroom door. What if Craig was hiding in there?

No. He'd have followed the sound of Kaitlan's voice.

Darrel shuffled around and hurried up the hall.

Had Sam gotten everything on film? Craig, pulling a gun. It wasn't a murder, but it should be enough.

With perfect clarity Darell saw Craig's immediate plan. Wouldn't Darell have his antagonist do the same, if he were writing the scene? Craig couldn't just shoot them. First he had to squeeze names out of them-who else had they told?

How long before Craig discovered others in the house?

In the distance, somewhere off the entryway-a noise.

Kaitlan.

”Craig Barlow!” Darell thumped over the hardwood. ”You want to kill somebody, here I am!”

CHAPTER sixty-three

On her knees in the kitchen, Kaitlan huddled with Ed behind the cooking island. Ed was crouched down, ready to spring. He'd grabbed a frying pan off the cook top, as if that would do any good.

Craig would be here in seconds. They wouldn't get out of this alive.

She'd seen Pete's body down near the office. If Ed hadn't pulled her back, Craig would have already gotten to her. She hadn't cared then. She'd only been driven to save her grandfather.

”He's okay,” Ed had whispered, dragging her away.

Pete. Kaitlan wanted to mourn the man, but she felt strangely empty. She had no time to feel.

If only they could get Pete's gun.

Somewhere down the south wing, her grandfather yelled for Craig.No. Kaitlan's eyes squeezed shut.

Crack-crack-crack. Gunshots rang from the north wing.

Ed stiffened. Kaitlan pressed against him.

A stifled yell. Something heavy crashed. The news camera?