Part 40 (1/2)

She tried to breathe. She tried to get the words out.

'I know who killed Glory,' Tresa told him.

'Troy, you stupid a.s.s,' Reich snapped. 'What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?'

Troy shrank like a wilted flower in front of the sheriff. The boy opened his hand, and the gun dropped to the wet ground of the cemetery. It may as well have been on fire. 'I just - I mean, I thought I could make things right for Glory, you know?'

'You?'

'Yeah. I thought if no one else could stop him, then I could.'

The sheriff marched so close to the boy that he was practically in his face. 'Then do it already,' Reich told him.

Troy c.o.c.ked his head in confusion. 'What?'

'Shoot the f.u.c.ker.'

Mark wasn't sure he'd heard the words come out of Reich's mouth. Reich wasn't joking. He was dead serious. When Troy stood frozen in disbelief, Reich squatted and retrieved the gun and stuffed it back into the boy's hand. Like a robot following orders, Troy turned back toward Mark, but he could barely hold the b.u.t.t of the gun steady. Panic and fear made his entire body quake.

'Do it,' Reich ordered him. 'You p.u.s.s.y, get something right for once in your life. We'll ditch your boat, and you can go hide in my bas.e.m.e.nt, and we can figure out what to do with you. We're going to have to get you seriously lost.'

'Sheriff, what are you doing?' Mark asked.

'Shut up, Bradley. I'm waiting, Troy. Pull the trigger. Do it now.'

'I don't - I don't think I can,' Troy murmured, his voice broken.

Reich stepped in front of Troy impatiently and stripped the gun out of the boy's hands. 'Like I thought, no b.a.l.l.s. Jesus, what a waste.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Get the h.e.l.l out of here,' Reich told him.

'Where do I go?' Troy asked plaintively.

'My truck is on the highway. It's parked off the shoulder a hundred yards east of here. Climb inside and stay out of sight. Stay right there until I get back, got it? Do not move.'

Troy did as he was told. He ran, tripping over the ground like a clown, through the cemetery, land. He never looked back. Reich followed Troy's progress until he couldn't see the boy anymore, and then he re-aimed Troy's gun at Bradley's chest. Unlike Troy's wobbly hand, Reich's grip was solid and a.s.sured, and his arm was rigid.

'Now it's just you and me, Bradley,' Reich said.

'Sheriff, are you out of your mind?'

'Where's Tresa?' Reich asked.

'I don't know. She ran. Sheriff, if this is a joke, it's not funny.'

'It's no joke.'

Mark could see that it wasn't. Reich's intentions were deadly.

'Why are you doing this?' Mark asked.

'Because as long as you're alive, people are going to keep digging up ghosts. Once you're gone, you can take the blame for everything. If you'd died in that car accident like you were supposed to, the case would already be closed.'

'I can't believe you'd kill an innocent man,' Mark told him.

'I've killed plenty of men. They were innocent. You're not. Don't bother pleading for your life. I'm fresh out of mercy.'

'I didn't kill Glory.'

'Now you're just making me mad,' Reich growled.

'I don't care. I didn't do it.'

'Pete knew you were a liar.'

'I didn't kill Peter Hoffman either.'

Reich nodded grimly. 'That's the first true thing you said, Bradley, but it doesn't matter. I killed Pete. You gave me no choice.'

Mark felt the breath leave his chest. He knew with a terrible clarity that there was really no hope now. No chance of this ending well, of him walking away alive and free. Reich was no immature kid like Troy who was in over his head. When the sheriff ran out of bile, the gun in his hand would spit a bullet into Mark's heart.

'He was your best friend,' Mark said.

'That's right, I killed my best friend because of you.'

'Because of me?'

'Because you're a liar,' Reich told him. 'Because you had to hide behind a ghost in order to cover up your own crime. Pete was willing to give up everything to make sure you paid the price. I couldn't let him do that, but I'll make sure you pay. That's what Pete would want. That's why I can live with what I've done.'

Mark shook his head and slowly held up his hands. 'Sheriff, I swear I don't know what the h.e.l.l you're talking about.'

'He's talking about Harris Bone,' Cab Bolton said.

Reich whipped his light toward the voice that rose from the cemetery graves, but he didn't take his eyes off Mark or lower the gun even an inch. In the beam, Mark saw Cab Bolton ten feet away, next to the gray tower of a bell-shaped tombstone. Tresa huddled next to him, her face red with anger and tears.

'Bolton,' Reich hissed.

'What now, Sheriff?' Cab demanded. 'Are you going to kill me, too? First Hoffman, then Bradley, then me?'

Reich's eyes darted furiously between Mark and Cab. He was a man looking for a way out and not finding one.

'The girl, too?' Cab went on. 'Could you shoot the girl? How many more people are you willing to kill to keep the secret?'