I could hear Redfern shouting at him. I removed my high-heeled sandals.

“She’s okay, but I don’t know if I can use my gun. I’ll try. Hurry.”

“Okay. Let me have it back. I have to turn off the sound now.” I’d almost come to grief once before when my cell rang at an inopportune moment, and it wasn’t going to happen again tonight.

He slumped onto the floor, his eyes fluttering. He was going into shock.

Shit!

I shook his shoulder. “Give me your gun. It’s our only chance.”

His eyes opened. “No. I’ll lose my job. An officer never gives up his gun. Never.”

His hand wrapped around the Glock’s hand grip, but loosely. His index finger had fallen away from the trigger. I pulled the barrel away from his body. His fingers twitched but he couldn’t reach out.

“Bliss … You can’t …”

“Quiet!”

The door opened. I tried to remember facts I’d heard from Redfern and other cops, but never paid attention to. The Glock was a .40-calibre semi-automatic pistol. No safety, so it was ready to go. One pull on the trigger produced one bullet. The magazine contained fifteen rounds. It had been more than three years since I’d held a gun and aimed at a paper target. Would I be able to shoot a human being? I guess I’d find out.

I put one hand on Dwayne to quiet him. A pair of boots halted not eighteen inches from our hiding spot. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the cry of surprise. Jimmy Choos! Suddenly everything made sense. I wanted to punch myself for not understanding sooner. The Weasel wasn’t getting his own hands dirty.

I scampered through the warren of table legs, depending on the overhead humming and whirring to mask the sound of my movements. I hoped that the tropical potted plants lined up in front of the tables prevented Andrea from catching sight of me. I prayed that Dwayne didn’t cry out in pain and give his position away. I had no doubt Andrea would shoot him again. No time to think about Redfern or where he might be. I couldn’t count on anyone else to save me. At that moment, I knew I could put a bullet in her chest to save my life, or Dwayne’s. No more doubts.

“Bli-iss?” Andrea was clearly trying to pinpoint my position. “You know I’m going to kill you and your uniformed minder. Two more deaths don’t matter to me. I heard you talking about the photos hidden in the glitter ball. I came back for them. Finding you here is just a bonus. Saves me time. Since the ball has been sliced open, you must have the pictures on you.”

I was under a table directly opposite the door — opposite Andrea and her gun. My hands, as I held Dwayne’s Glock, were becoming slick with sweat. “Why kill Sophie and Kelly Quantz?”

As I spoke, I crawled forward. Just in time, it turned out, as a bullet hit the tropical plants directly in front of the spot I had just vacated. That made two bullets she’d used. It didn’t matter whether she had a second Mauser or a Sauer. Both chambered eight rounds. Six more to go. If she had another pistol that chambered more than eight, I was beyond screwed.

“After that girl’s body was found in the locker, Sophie was going to tell the authorities.” Andrea snorted derisively. “She was there when Michael accidentally knocked the girl down. At the time, Sophie promised not to say anything. She knew Michael didn’t do it on purpose, and it would destroy his future if people knew. She should have kept her promise. I met her in the church instead of Michael. It was so easy. Same with her drunkard husband. He tried to blackmail Michael. I met him at the swamp and took care of him. Even easier. I thought that was the end of it, so I threw the Mauser away. I didn’t want it found in my possession. Not registered, you see, so can’t be traced back to us. It was my grandfather’s, but I had no choice.”

So far, Andrea hadn’t moved from the doorway. I could see the lower part of her body weaving from side to side as she talked. She was trying to pinpoint my location. The next time I spoke, she would know I was making my way toward her, toward the door.

“What about me, Andrea?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I doubled back, toward Dwayne.

Her third and fourth bullets would have hit me had I stayed where I was. Every inch of my skin poured sweat and I was sure the Glock was going to slide right out of my grip when I finally pointed it at her.

“You’ve been making trouble for Michael since he threw you out like the piece of trash you are. You were there the night that girl died, and your snooping has caused us trouble ever since. As long as you’re around, our political career is in jeopardy. I decided to kill you after Kelly Quantz turned out to be so easy. I just ran home and got another gun. It was my grandfather’s, too. So fortunate that it uses the same ammunition.” She laughed, almost gaily. “I’ll throw this one away as well. After. Then your boyfriend won’t be able to connect us to either gun.”

Andrea’s chattiness dwindled into silence. I tried desperately to think of something else to say. “Why did Mike argue with Faith?”

This time, I fast-crawled in the opposite direction until I was close to the door, on the opposite side of the room from Dwayne.

Two bullets smashed into the row of pots. Several exploded, throwing plants and earth under the table. A pain shot across my calf and I stifled a yelp. Did a piece of flying clay hit me? How many bullets was that? Six?

Andrea spat with contempt. “She was pregnant. Can you imagine? The slut was pregnant. She wanted Michael to help support her bastard.”

I heard what she said, but the information didn’t shock me. What now? She had at least two bullets left. I could shoot her legs from under the table. Yes. That’s what I’d do. But I preferred to wait until she was out of bullets.

“I want the pictures. And I am going to kill you.”

Dwayne groaned, and I watched her body swing away from me, toward the corner table. She couldn’t see him yet, but in just a few precious seconds, she would find him.

Still, she stood in the doorway. I watched her Jimmy Choos pivot in the direction of Dwayne’s hiding spot and she took a step. With one foot, she shoved a couple of pots aside. From across the room, I saw Dwayne’s hand move limply. She saw it, too.

I didn’t make a conscious decision. I wasn’t even sure the damn Glock would fire when I pulled the trigger. Maybe Redfern didn’t allow Dwayne to carry a loaded gun. Maybe I was going to fucking dine with my ancestors tonight. But I crawled out from under the table and stood up. Somebody screamed, “Drop the weapon.” I thought for an instant that it was coming from me.

Right, I was a fucking Dirty Harry. Make my day. She spun around and we both fired.

I missed. She didn’t.

CHAPTER

forty-nine

Dwayne had taken the 4 X 4. No way would a cruiser get through the heavy drifts covering the highway. The concession road was sure to be worse, and the end of the greenhouse driveway into the parking lot — impassable.

Neil spotted a massive municipal snowplow idling in front of the Wing Nut. He ran toward it, shouting for Thea and Bernie to follow him. He banged on the door of the truck. When the window lowered, he recognized Fang Davidson.

He looked up into the bearded face. “I need to get to the greenhouse, now! Dwayne and Bliss are there with the killer. Dwayne’s been shot. Drive us.”

“Man, I don’t think I should do that,” Fang began. “I’m municipal, not authorized to drive on the highway past the town limits…”

“Did you not hear me? This is an emergency situation. I’ll take responsibility.”

“Jump in, and let’s ride! Nobody threatens our Bliss and gets away with it.”