Dadron pushed him aside. “Looks like you got something to explain. I can handle Jake.” Dadron hefted Jake to his feet and slung him over his shoulder.
“Remind me never to make you mad.” Wilkes stood and stepped out of Dadron’s way.
Dadron pointed at his nose, which was swelling. “You see that? That’s what happens when you try to stop Loki, which wouldn’t have been necessary if you two hadn’t lied to her.” Dadron headed toward the house. “We’ll talk after the women get done with you.”
Grace came through the yard and stared at him.
“You shouldn’t be out here, Grace. I guess you’re mad at me too?” Wilkes ran a hand through his dark hair and shook his head. “Can’t say I blame you if you are.”
She shook her head.
He smiled at her. “Good.”
She followed him into the barn. “What are you doing?”
“Delaying the inevitable. Thought maybe if I stayed away long enough, Loki would calm down.”
Her face was glum, and he could tell her mind was somewhere else. “Is something wrong, Grace?”
“Do you think if I let you send me away, he would leave them alone?”
“No, honey, I don’t think this is about you anymore.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t run away, Jake would never have found me, and he wouldn’t be hurt, and Loki wouldn’t be sad.”
Wilkes crossed the distance between them and opened his arms. She hesitated, and he smiled at her. “Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on sometimes.” Grace moved into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder. “You’re one of the bravest people I know. If you hadn’t had the guts to do what you did, he’d still be hurting little girls.”
She hiccupped. “I don’t feel very brave.”
Wilkes looked up and met the gaze of Teresa Nikolic standing inside the barn doors. “How long have you been there?”
Teresa smiled at him. “Long enough to get over the urge to shoot you in the arse.” She turned away. “I can’t say the same for Loki, though.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Mary swabbed away the last of the blood and applied a bandage over Robert’s right ear. “Should heal okay if you keep it clean and dry.”
“Thank you, Mother. It will all be over soon.”
Mary cleaned up the cotton balls and took the bowl to the sink. “What do you mean?”
“The FBI is gone, and I killed the husband, so that leaves the Indians and the girl. I can finish them tonight.”
Tonight. Sadness washed over her at the thought of Jake dead as she wracked her brain, trying to think of something to say to stop him. “Don’t you need to do some kind of ritual or something? Seems to me taking somebody’s power would need some sort of ritual.”
“Come sit down with me, Mother. You may be right.”
Mary sat opposite him and folded her hands in her lap. If I can convince him he needs something that he has to go out for, maybe I can find a way to get out of here. “Best place to do research is at the library. Should be able to find a book on rituals there.”
Robert smiled at her, nodding. “I’ll make a trip to the library and research it. You don’t mind putting our trip off for one more day, do you?”
Mary grunted, her fear dissipating as she thought of Anna Claire’s leg. “Need to put it off until Anna Claire’s leg heals, which it won’t ever do unless you let me take her to the hospital.”
His brows knitted together, his eyes darkening as his hands spread out on the table, and he leaned toward her. “You’re a doctor. Fix her.”
Tread carefully, Mary Coomer. “She needs an orthopedic doctor. I’m a family physician.”
His face brightened. “As soon as I’m done at the library, I’ll pick one up and bring him here.”
“She needs a surgeon and a hospital, Robert.”
Robert banged his fist on the table. “Why are you making this hard, Mother?”
The trembling started in her legs. “Guess I’m still a little tired, Robert. I’ll find a way.”
He leaped up, knocked over the chair, and rushed to her side. He laid her head against his chest and rubbed her back. “I know you will, Mother. After tonight, we’ll take the Indian girl, and we can all go away.” Standing, he bent and kissed her on the lips. “We’ll be a family. You should get some rest now. I’ll be back in about four hours.”
Mary glanced at the kitchen clock before she headed down the stairs. Four hours. She had four hours to figure out a way to save herself and Anna Claire. She fought the urge to wipe her mouth and vomit until she heard the lock click on the door. She rushed to the freezer, opened it, and vomited all over George Bledsoe.
~ ~ ~
Loki glared at Wilkes as he came through the front door. Teresa had shared the scene in the barn, but she wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. So much for no more lies or secrets.
“Could you be a little easier there, Loki?” Jake flinched as she put pressure on the wound. “And could somebody bring me a drink?”
“There’s a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet above the refrigerator, Dadron. There’s also a bottle of alcohol. Could you bring those to me, please?”
Dadron nodded and headed to the kitchen.
“How bad is he?” Wilkes asked.
“He’ll live,” Loki replied, tightening the pressure on the wound, which elicited an immediate grunt of pain from Jake. She loosened the pressure. “Sorry.”
The front door opened again, and Teresa and Karen walked in. “You were right, Wilkes. You hit him. We found blood where he was kneeling.”
“How much?” Loki reached for the bottle of whiskey Dadron was holding.
“Not enough.” Karen flopped down on the couch. “He’ll probably hole up for a day or two then try it again.”
Loki uncorked the whiskey and handed it to Jake. “Drink as much as you can.” She glanced at Dadron. “Any word from Dr. Coomer?”
“No. Maybe we should take him to the hospital.”
“No hospital,” Jake mumbled between gulps of whiskey. “This guy is coming back, and I’m going to be here.”
Loki held a bundle of bandages out to Jake. “You might want to put those between your teeth.” She reached for the bottle of alcohol and unscrewed the top.
“Why?”
Loki removed the bandage she’d been using to apply pressure and poured the alcohol over the wound. “Because this is going to hurt.” Her lips lifted in a smile as Jake shoved the bandages into his mouth and bit down.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Grace stared at the door to her bedroom. She could feel the coldness seeping beneath the door and into the hallway. Mother is still here. Wilkes had called her the bravest person he knew, but that wasn’t true. If I’d done what Loki asked me to, maybe they could have found him before he hurt Jake.
She glanced toward the living room, where Jake was lying on the couch with his eyes closed. Everyone else was in the kitchen or outside, and Hope would sleep in Loki’s bed for at least another hour or so. Her hands trembled as she reached for the doorknob. I can do this. I have to.
Grace took a deep breath, straightened her back, and opened the door. A blast of icy wind hit her, and she closed the door behind her quickly. “I know you’re here, Mother.”
The shadows in the corner seemed to ripple and move as the old woman glided into the middle of the room. Grace bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. She can only hurt me through fear. It’s time she feared me.
The bowl of white sage Loki had brought in was still sitting on top of her dresser. Grace crossed the room and picked it up. She didn’t remember everything Loki had said, but she remembered she had to light it. She struck a match and held it close to the bowl. “I know Robert killed you.” She forced herself to look into the old woman’s sightless eyes. “And unless you tell me where he is, I’m going to banish you to hell, where you belong.”
Mother screamed and flailed her arms wildly as Grace moved the match closer
to the sage. “Where is he, Mother?”
Coomer.
“Dr. Coomer?” Grace felt the blood drain from her face as the old woman cackled and whirled around.
She brought the match closer to the sage. What if she’s lying? “Did you hurt Anna Claire, Mother?”
The old woman cackled again and spun some more. Grace dropped the match into the sage and placed the bowl on top of the chest. It wasn’t the ritual Loki had told her to do, but Mother didn’t know that. She was supposed to say something at the end. Something to make them go away.
“Go to hell, Mother.”
She watched for a moment as Mother’s face distorted and she screamed in agony, then Grace raced for the kitchen.
“I know where he is.” All eyes turned toward her, but it was Loki’s she sought and held. “He’s at Dr. Coomer’s.”
~ ~ ~
Wilkes ended his call and walked into the kitchen, where the group was assembling weapons and going over the map of Dr. Coomer’s house that Loki and Dadron had drawn. “I talked with the chief of police, and he’s sending a car to do a drive-by. I told him about this guy’s penchant for rigging houses to explode. The officer won’t stop or try to apprehend but will monitor from a safe distance.”
“Someone needs to stay here with Jake, Bruiser, Grace, and the baby.” Loki shoved her knife into the sheath on her belt. “And it isn’t going to be me.”
“I’ll do it.” Karen chuckled at Wilkes’s raised eyebrow. “Hey, you know me, peacemaker and all that.”
“Jules, why don’t you stay too?” Loki sent him a pleading look. “I know Grace would feel better if you were here.” She didn’t wait for him to answer, tossed Wilkes a set of keys, and followed Dadron to the car. “Wilkes, you and Teresa can use our car. We’ll take Dadron’s.”
“Don’t go in there until we get there,” Wilkes called after her.
“I think everyone thinks I’m stupid.” Loki buckled her seat belt as Dadron gunned the car up the farmhouse road.
“Not everybody.” Dadron shot her a grin. “Just the ones who care about you.”
Loki gritted her teeth and checked the gun Jake had insisted she bring with her. “Well, I’m not stupid.”
“Bullheaded, though,” Dadron stated matter-of-factly. “Wouldn’t hurt if you were scared of something occasionally.”
Evil. The whisper flowed around her, seeping into her pores and creating an internal quiver she couldn’t control. “Trust me, Dadron, this guy scares the hell out of me.”
They finished the trip in silence, and Dadron drove slowly past the drive. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s there.”
“The police officer is parked two houses down. Let’s stop and talk to him.”
Dadron parked beside the patrol car and rolled down his window. “Any activity?”
“Nothing since I’ve been here.”
Loki glanced in the rearview mirror as Wilkes and Teresa pulled up behind them. “The boss has arrived. Let’s see what he wants to do.”
“I don’t suppose your department has a bomb squad?” Wilkes addressed the young officer as the five of them surveyed the dark house.
“No, sir.”
“We could go in through Anna Claire’s window. Lock broke several years ago,” Dadron offered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face when Loki turned and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, we were teenagers.”
“All right, we’ll approach from the rear. Which room is it?” Wilkes asked.
Dadron pointed at the rear of the house. “Last one on the right.”
“Officer Peters, you and Teresa cover the front but don’t touch the door.” Wilkes studied the window, then slowly pushed up on the pane. “Small opening, Loki. Do you think you can fit through it?”
“Try and stop me.” Loki motioned for Dadron to give her a lift, placed her foot on his hands, and hefted herself up to the sill and slid through. The quiet was unnerving as she stood, listening for any sounds of movement and sniffing for the smell of kerosene. She stuck her head through the window. “I think it’s clear. Meet me around front, and I’ll open the door.”
She crossed the room and opened the door slowly, her hand on the knife at her waist as she surveyed the short hallway. The chill was immediately apparent to her, and she clamped her lips to stop her teeth from chattering as she made her way to the front door, flipped the lock, and opened it. “There’s no one here, but he’s been here.”
“Peters, call it in and get a forensic team out here.” Wilkes entered slowly, his eyes roaming the small living room to the open doorway on the right. “Let’s do a quick walk-through and head back to the farm. I’m getting a bad feeling about this one.”
Loki followed the cold draft to a door leading to the garage. She opened it slowly and flipped on the light, her gaze going immediately to the stacks of frozen food sitting beside the old freezer. “Wilkes, I think I’ve found Mother.”
He joined her in the doorway. “Shit, it’s cold in here. Bring me a towel from the bathroom.”
Loki retrieved the towel and handed it to him. “Should we wait for forensics?”
“Maybe, but if we do, we won’t know for sure it’s not the doctor or her granddaughter. We only have Grace’s word Harriett Tatum is dead.” He placed the towel around his hand and slowly lifted the lid then dropped it back into place. “We better tell Peters to get the coroner out here too.”
Loki watched as Wilkes slowly unwound the towel, an odd expression on his face. “Was it her?”
He nodded and tossed the towel on top of the freezer. “Yeah, and she wasn’t dead when he put her in there.”
Loki shivered. Now I know whose hands were clawing at something slick and cold in my vision, and why it was so damn cold. No wonder Grace called him the devil. She shuddered as her gaze fell on a picture of Dr. Coomer and her granddaughter. If he did that to his own mother, what was he putting them through?
~ ~ ~
Robert forced his foot from the gas pedal and slowed as he went past the doctor’s house. The frustration he’d felt at the library when he couldn’t find the information he needed, along with the anger when the bank refused to accept his debit card, continued to grow as he recognized the tall dark-haired man. So they think they can play games with me. He drove a mile down the road and parked, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. The throbbing inside his head was returning.
Did you take your pills, Robert?
His eyes jerked open, and he stared at the passenger seat as his hands went to the wheel. “No, Mother, I forgot.”
You better clean it up, Robert.
Mother was right. He needed to clean it up. Mary Coomer lied to me. She’s not my mother, and Anna Claire isn’t my sister. I have a mother and a sister. I’ll bet she lied about the rosebush too.
He smiled at Mother sitting in the passenger seat, and started the car. “Don’t worry, Mother. As soon as I kill the Indian, we can all be together again.”
Take your pills, Robert.
“Yes, Mother.”
He passed the Redmond farmhouse and stopped the car on the side of the road. He’d seen the Indian and one of her brothers, as well as the tall blonde, at the doctor’s house, along with the agent. The girl was alone with the one brother and the other blonde. You won’t feel so smart when you come home to find them all dead.
Robert opened the car door and retrieved his rifle from the backseat, along with a can of kerosene. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Mother.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Mary sat in front of the cot, rocking slowly back and forth. I’m losing my mind. Anna Claire moaned, and Mary rose and placed her hand on her forehead. Her fever is rising, and if I don’t get us out of here soon, she’ll die before he has a chance to kill us both. Think, Mary Ann Coomer. Damn it, think.
She’d been to the Bledsoe home at least a dozen times in the last year. George didn’t have a gun. Said he was always afraid he’d shoot his foot off. Damned old fool, maybe if you’d had a gun, you�
�d still be alive. An image flashed through her mind of the old man rocking on the front porch and whittling. He had a pocketknife.
Her gaze went to the freezer, and she shook her head. Can’t do it, Lord. Anna Claire moaned again, and Mary’s feet moved forward slowly, shuffling one step at a time. You’ve seen dead bodies before. Just open it up, search his pockets, and close it.
Mary took a deep breath and opened the lid to the freezer, averting her eyes from the frozen vomit now covering poor old George’s face. She grimaced as she reached in, jerked the body toward her, and forced a hand into his jeans pocket. Her fingers latched around the knife, and she jerked it out, slammed the lid, and backed away from the freezer. She returned to her spot in front of the cot and continued her rocking back and forth, her lips moving slowly. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…
Time passed slowly, and the chill in the room finally forced Mary to move. It’s been more than four hours. What if Robert doesn’t come back? We’ll starve or freeze to death. She clung to the bed and slowly pushed herself to her feet. Anna Claire was sleeping, an occasional moan escaping her dry lips. The child needs water.
She turned to gaze at the stairs, unsure her legs would even carry her up them. Her heart began to pound loudly as, somewhere above her, a phone rang. He didn’t cut the wire to the phone. Give me strength, Lord, just enough strength to save my baby girl.
Mary opened the knife and stumbled slowly to the bottom of the stairs. Her legs trembled as she took hold of the rail and tried to step up. I’ll never make it to the top. I’m too old and too weak. Tears filled her eyes and flowed over, burning as they traveled the wrinkled creases of her dry face. She sat on the first step, the knife held loosely in her hand. Don’t you give up, Mary. Placing her hands behind her, she dragged her butt up to the second step, then pushing with her feet, continued to climb. Twelve steps, that’s all. I counted them. She continued to pull and push until her back hit the door. “Hallelujah.” She’d heard the lock click when Robert left, but she hadn’t heard the scratching sound as he hooked up the wires. Lord, you wouldn’t let me hear a phone and not let me use it. And you wouldn’t have helped me up those stairs to have me blown sky high. She slipped the blade of the knife in behind the lock and maneuvered it as she turned the handle to the door, a bubble of laughter bursting forth as it opened.
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