“You lying bastard!” She wavered between the two of them, weapon on one, then the other.
“Des,” I said, “you don’t want to do this. You’re angry right now. Just like you were when you killed Morah. More blood won’t make it better.”
“Shut up.” She turned and pointed the barrel directly at me.
When Kong released Antoine and started to move toward Des, she swiveled and shook her head. “Get back. You know what I can do with this.”
“Did you kill Morah? Is what McKenna said true?”
“She slipped in through an open slider door,” I said. “She drugged Morah, set up everything, and closed the door on the way out. Right Des?”
“She was taking you away.” Des glanced over at Antoine and sneered. “She even stole him away.”
“No, Des. That’s not true.”
“Shut up, Antoine. You’re just a worm. What did I ever see in you?”
“Put down the gun.” Kong’s voice was level.
“Sorry, little brother, you don’t run things anymore. I’m in charge. I’m tired of your weakness, his too. I was such a fool for believing his lies. I fell for a guy who cheats on his wife with every woman he meets.” Des glared at Antoine. “Now you’re gonna lie about screwing that bitch to save your slimy skin.”
“You’re wrong, Des. I really do love you. I want to marry you.”
“I’ll be doing your wife a favor.”
Kong’s face was impassive. “If you’re gonna shoot me, Des, make it quick. I’m already dead inside.”
I looked straight at Des. “You’re the one who sent Roger to drown Decker.”
“Shut up.” She glared at me. When Kong shifted position, she returned her focus to him. “Don’t be a hero, little brother. I’ve lost everything.” Her voice rose in pitch and I knew she was too close to the edge. “I was losing you. To her. To her. A drug-addict slut.”
I rushed Des. She turned, but was too late. The gun went off as I slammed into her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
My ears rang so loudly I couldn’t hear a thing, but I wasn’t bleeding. My attempt at a tackle sent us tumbling headlong to the floor. Des tried to jab me in the jaw with an off-balance blow that only carried enough force to drive us in opposite directions. I landed on my side. She slammed back first into a recliner. The force of the impact knocked the gun from her hand and the air from her lungs. She sat with her legs outstretched and spread wide, shock and pain frozen on her face. Though my head still spun from her glancing blow, I made it to my knees while she sat shaking her head, trying to regain her focus.
I heard screams of excruciating pain through the steady whining in my ears. The gun blast. Had Kong been hit? Des had one hand on the floor, an elbow on the seat of the recliner, but the torment on her face told me she could barely move. She breathed heavily as she held her position. A trickle of red inching across the floor caught my attention. I followed the trail to its source. Antoine. Writhing on the floor with jerky movements that slowed with each passing breath. Red splatters covered the wall, Kong’s face, shirt and shorts.
“No!” It was Des, still struggling to stand. She rose partway, then fell back to the floor, clutching her back. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she crawled across the room. She appeared oblivious to me as I inched toward the gun she’d left behind.
Kong stepped on the barrel as I gripped the handle. I tried to pull it from under his foot, but he reached down, removed my hand, then grabbed my arm and flipped me away. When I looked up, all I saw were a pair of cold eyes behind the huge barrel.
Des was pressing her hands against Antoine’s wound. She didn’t seem to notice his breathing had already stopped. Her tears mixed with his blood as little red rivers continued their journey across the uneven floor.
“I’m sorry, Antoine. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I only wanted to punish you for cheating on me.” Large blotches of crimson stained her clothing. “When this is over, we’ll be together. I promise. I’ll treat you better.”
“He’s dead, Sis.”
“No, I stopped the bleeding. Call an ambulance.”
Kong laughed. “Are you freaking kidding me? An ambulance? After what we’ve done?”
“Do it,” she screamed. “He needs help.”
I pointed at Antoine’s lifeless body. “Check his breathing.”
“He’s fine.” She gazed at Antoine’s face. “You’re gonna be a dad, Antoine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I promise I was gonna tell you. You just make me so angry sometimes.” She looked up at Kong. “Please, Kong, call 9-1-1. We’ve got to help him.” Her clothing was soaked.
Sadness painted Kong’s face.
In the distance, I heard sirens. I said, “Turn yourself in. You can’t get away now.”
Kong smiled at me, then said, “Bonnie and Clyde, man. Blaze of glory.”
“They died in a gun battle, you’re not going to get away. Besides, Bonnie didn’t kill Clyde’s fiancé.”
“You told me a lot of lies, man. I can’t believe anything you say. What’ve I got left? Morah’s dead. My sister’s gone off the deep end over some guy who never cared about her.”
“That’s not true, Kong. He told me he loved me,” said Des. “You heard him. C’mon, baby. C’mon.”
The sirens drew closer as Kong walked to a closet in the hallway. He opened the door and pulled out a black rifle with a metal arm for a butt. Des continued to apply pressure to Antoine’s chest wound.
She glanced up toward the noise. “They’re coming to help you, Antoine. You’re going to be okay.”
Kong spoke matter-of-factly. “She ain’t never loved nobody before—maybe not even me. AKs are great. Easy to get, reliable.” I started in Kong’s direction, but he extended his arm straight at me—in his hand, he still held the pistol. “Wouldn’t do that, man. This is gonna be great. We’ll wait for nightfall, shoot our way out of here, then drive around the island shooting it up. I’m taking out that asshole Najar first. It’s gonna be great, man. You might want to write us up in your paper. Would you do that? Don’t tell no more lies, man.”
How could I stop them? What could I say?
“I’m telling you, man, it’s gonna be epic. But, you don’t wanna write it up, you might as well be next.” He pulled the slide.
“I’ll do it. I promise.” The sirens were almost deafening, probably no more than a few houses away.
“Sis, where’s your other guns?”
Des kneeled next to Antoine inspecting her hands and clothing, which were stained red. When she looked up, she glared at me. “You did this.” Her words were distinct and each carried venom.
“Sis, we need firepower. These local yokels’ll be running faster than all the damn chickens on this island.”
“I’ve got nothing left.” Her gaze fell on Kong. “Nothing.”
The sirens were out front now. They stopped. Doors slammed. Someone shouted orders.
“Neither of us got shit left, Sis.” Kong aimed the gun at me. “You gonna write about this?”
I nodded as fast as I could. No doubt about it, I wanted to run like one of the chickens, but I wouldn’t make it out the door before one of them cut me down.
“Where’d you stash the other AKs, Sis?” In another hour, sunset would be upon us. Through the drapes, armored shapes formed a perimeter around the house. SWAT? Here? On Kauai? And they were here to save me—or get me killed. Once it got dark, who knew how many would die? Kong stood over Des, the rifle in one hand, the pistol in the other. “Forget him. Where’d you hide them?”
Des blinked, as if trying to comprehend the situation. As scared as I was, the hatred in her eyes was unmistakable. My question was, who did she want to kill more? Me or her own brother. She took a deep breath and flipped her hair back with crimson hands.
“Kong,” I said. “She’s going to do something.”
Des gave me a parting sneer before struggling to her feet. “Roger took all the heavy-duty stuff.” She clutched her
back as she walked, stiff-legged to the closet.
“Call him. We need backup.”
She nodded as she pulled the rifle from Kong’s grip, then winced as she reached into the closet and pulled out a larger clip than the one currently in the rifle. She replaced the smaller clip. She handed the first rifle to Kong, then did the same thing with a second.
“Wait,” I said. “This is insane. You saw how she looked at you. If the cops don’t get you, she will.”
If Kong heard me, he didn’t care what I thought. He was busy stuffing the pistol back into his waistband.
Des said, “You ruined everything. I had it all. Everything I wanted.”
A man’s voice blasted us through a bullhorn outside the house. “Kong Lam. Desiree Lam. This is the Kauai Police. Open the door and come out.”
I had one last chance to make Kong understand. He’d protected me a couple of times, would he save me again? “I’m telling you, Kong, she killed Morah because she didn’t want to lose you. She set Morah up to go down for the bad checks, then decided it was too much risk. That’s when she set up the explosion.”
Des reached back as if to slap me, but Kong grabbed her wrist. “My sis wouldn’t do that.”
She smiled sweetly at me through her pain, but I could see the venom in her eyes.
“It ain’t gonna matter,” said Kong, nodding at me. “Once the cops start shooting, he’s a dead man anyway. Let him write us up—if he lives. We’ll go down in history.”
“Sure, baby brother. Sure.” Des walked to the front window, opened the drapes, then, apparently daring anyone to shoot, stood to one side.
“She’s crazy,” I whispered.
Creases lined Kong’s face as he examined his weapon. “How come you gave me a different clip, Sis?”
“I figured you’d want the armor-piercing shells.”
“Thought you said Roger took all the heavy stuff.”
“What? Now you don’t trust me?”
Kong nodded absently while he pulled the clip from the rifle. He weighed it in his hand, then inspected it closely before tossing it and the rifle aside. He reached behind him and pulled the pistol from his waistband.
The amplified voice returned. “Kong Lam. Desiree Lam. We know you’re in there.”
“Tell me, Sis, straight up. Did you have anything to do with Morah’s death?”
Des stood straight and let the rifle hang at her side. In a voice as cool as I’d ever heard, she said, “Now’s a fine time to get paranoid. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You loved Morah. You were going to marry her. You two were going to have a very nice life together.”
No doubt about it, Des was mocking us both, daring Kong to make the leap he’d denied so forcefully.
“Did you take her from me, Des? Don’t tell me you did this.” But, the recognition was there. It was on his face, in his eyes, in the twitch of his jaw. Even in his breathing, which was now rapid.
“I’ll take care of this,” said Des.
“Kong,” I said. “Turn yourself in. Morah wouldn’t want you to die this way. You were trying to straighten your life out. You were on the right path.”
“Kong, you and me—we’ve got nothing left but each other. Don’t listen to him. Morah’s gone.”
Kong glowered at her. “Did you kill Morah?”
Des snickered, but never once even looked at Kong. “No. Why would I do something like that to you?”
“How do you make meth?” I asked.
“What? I ain’t no chemist.” Kong glanced at Des. “She knows.”
“I have no idea.”
“How could you not know, Des? You were doing that in Vegas. The last time I saved your ass. You remember.”
“Okay, so I know how to cook it? Big deal. So what?”
“That’s how Morah died,” I said. “A meth explosion.” I turned to Kong. “Think about it Kong. Morah? Cooking?”
From outside, the bullhorn blared, “This is your last warning, throw out your weapons.”
“Get ready,” said Des. “Not long now.”
“The ingredients are in the room they used to lock me up.” I said.
Whatever life might have been left in Kong’s eyes drained in that instant. He stared at Des, apparently unable to fathom the depth of her betrayal. I realized, too late, I may have just issued a death warrant for Desiree Lam. From the smile on her face, I wondered if she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Everything would fall apart if Kong killed Des, so I had to stop him before he decided to take me, too. I yelled, “This is Wilson McKenna. I was being held hostage. I’m okay, but we need time. Kong has a gun, but he’s thinking about turning himself in. Is Detective Najar here?”
“Not yet.”
Behind me, I heard Kong. “So you did do it.” I glanced over my shoulder. His chest heaved; tears streamed down his cheeks. I yelled to the cops again. “Please wait for Najar.” Over my shoulder, I said, “Kong, turn yourself in. She’ll face murder charges.”
“Time’s up. We’re coming in.”
“No! Please. I can talk them out.”
I waved my hands over my head so the cops could clearly see me through the window. Behind me, the wood floor creaked with the sound of a footstep. I turned back into the room, where Kong took slow, deliberate steps toward Des. “Do I kill you? I can’t send you to jail forever. Why, Des? Why?”
“Kong,” I said, “you don’t want to kill her.”
“I don’t want to send her to jail, either. She’d never survive.”
Des goaded her brother. “You are so weak. Pathetic. Your little whore had you wrapped around her finger.”
“What about you? Antoine? Christ, Sis, I can’t believe you fell for a wimp like him. I thought you were better than that.”
“Are you two nuts? Turn yourselves in. Where would you go?”
Des smiled. “We’ll find a way out. You and me, little brother, together again. We’re both rid of what was keeping us apart, so you can save the day, one last time. Ready?”
The significance of those last few words weren’t lost on me—or Kong.
“We fought our whole lives, huh?”
I strode over to Kong. “Give me the gun.” I held out my hand. “This is not your day to die.”
Kong shook his head while watching me with pursed lips. “Who says we’re gonna die? Maybe we’ll get out. Maybe we won’t. Either way, me and my sis are together.”
“Are you crazy? She killed the woman you loved more than life itself. Isn’t that what you said, ‘more than life itself?’”
The breath Kong took came from deep inside; it was a breath filled with desperation.
The bullhorn blared, this time with a different voice. “McKenna? Are you in there?”
People would die if I couldn’t talk these two down. “Yes,” I yelled over my shoulder. To Kong, I said, “Don’t let her move. Give me the gun.”
“It’ll be like old times, little brother.”
I snapped at Des, “You. Can’t you stop manipulating him? Give him a chance.”
“All of you in there, you need to come out now.” Footsteps pounded on the porch. Kong glanced at the door, then at me, then Des.
“Morah was carrying your baby, Kong. Des took away your child, too.”
The big guy licked his lips. “He’s right, Des. It’s never been you and me. It’s always been Des and her big henchman.”
Des pointed her rifle at Kong. “Then kill me. Get it over with right now. If you aren’t with me, I have no use for you.”
“You never cared about me,” Kong said. “You just used me. I always had you on a pedestal, said you were in trouble because of me. You ain’t no better.”
“Goddammit, just shoot.”
He raised the pistol until it was inches from his sister’s forehead.
I whispered, “Kong?”
His eyes darted in my direction.
“Morah. Think of Morah. Would she want y
ou to do this?”
Des sneered. “Morah, the bitch screwed my boyfriend. She deserved what she got.”
Kong glanced at me. “Maybe not. This is my choice. Not hers.”
“If you kill your sister, it will be her finest manipulation. You’ll carry that guilt for the rest of your life.”
Des let the AK-47 hang at her side. She seemed more interested in the sweat trickling down Kong’s temples than the barrel now pressed firmly against her brow. Her breathing was slow, calm, yet her eyes were dark pools of anger. Nowhere did I see fear.
Each second felt like ten, maybe a hundred. Was Des really ready to die? Did she know her brother so well?
“Don’t move, Sis.”
She said, “You can’t hurt me. You’ve always been weak. I’m the one who had to make the decisions. You and your precious little whore. She was no more than that.”
“Don’t let her get the best of you, Kong.”
“He won’t pull the trigger,” she said. “It’s more likely one of those island cops will shoot us by accident than my little brother could hurt his big sister. Isn’t that right, Kong?”
Kong’s jaw twitched. The fingers of his left hand flexed at his side.
Des reached up, clamped a hand around the barrel and continued to apply pressure until it was level with her mouth. She said, “Pull the trigger.” She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the barrel.
“If you kill her, she wins,” I said.
Tears rolled down Kong’s cheeks, combining with his sweat to form larger droplets of moisture, all of which trickled down his chin to eventually fall to the floor. “I can’t kill you. No matter what you did. But, I’m done, Des. With it all.” He pulled the gun from her mouth, but she jerked it down to her chest. The two watched each other for what seemed an eternity. Finally, after all these years, I think each understood what the other wanted.
“If that’s how you want to end it,” she said.
“Kong!”
Before the word escaped my mouth, Des raised her rifle. Kong countered with a swift left fist to her jaw, sending her sprawling backwards, then took two quick strides to stand over her. He pinned her weapon to the floor with his foot and aimed his pistol at her head. I yelled, “Stop!”
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