Gibb got up, stepped around his horror-stricken son, and calmly closed the door. One of the coffee cups had remained intact. Gibb picked it up off the floor, removed the lid, and took a sip.
Matt stumbled forward and would have thrown himself across Lottie's body if Gibb hadn't grabbed him from behind and pulled him back.
"There was no other way, son," he said in a smooth and reasonable tone. "You know that. She killed her husband in cold blood. She accused him of raping her, then shot him while he slept. What kind of example is that for young women?
Do we want our women to start believing that if their husbands exercise their God-given dominion over them and claim their conjugaL rights, they can murder them?
"The Brotherhood had already marked her for extermination. It was out of respect for you that they granted your petition for a postponement, but her execution was only a matter of time. I did her a favor, actually. I was merciful and quick. She died doing what she loved best."
Matt looked at his father with eyes as dead as Lottie's.
"That's right, son. She died with me on her. I tested her, just as Satan tested our Lord in the wilderness. Unlike Jesus, she failed." He glanced at the corpse.
Matt said nothing. He hadn't uttered a sound after the first shock of seeing Lottie dead.
"Writhing and begging like a wanton," Gibb said, "she opened her legs to me. She weakened me and made me sin, just as she's weakened you all these years. You can still see my seed there, mingling with yours. Only a slut would commit such an abomination."
Matt gazed without blinking at the obscenely positioned body. Gibb laid his hand on his son's shoulder. "She was the Devil's spawn, Matthew. A harlot of hell. If I hadn't stopped her, she would have continued fanning men's lust and corrupting you. I couldn't have that."
Matt swallowed. "But"
"Think of your son. He'll soon be with us. We couldn't have her tainting him, too."
"She . . . she wouldn't have. Lottie was good."
"Ah, Matt, you're wrong. I know how hard it is to under stand now, but eventually you'll come to see that I'm right.
Remember how difficult it was for us to eliminate your mother?"
Matt nodded dumbly.
"I loved that woman, son. I loved Laurelann dearly, but she overstepped her bounds. She discovered the truth behind the Brotherhood and planned to expose us to those who wouldn't understand our mission. She had to be silenced, Matt. I cried. You cried, too. Remember?"
"Yes, sir."
''It was painful but necessary. You were only a boy, but even then you understood the necessity of it, didn't you, son?"
"Yes, sir."
"eventually the pain eased, just as I told you it would.
Your spirit healed. You learned not to miss your mother so much. Believe me, son, you're much better off without this contaminating influence in your life. It's even possible that your marriage to Kendall would have remained intact, that we wouldn't be in this awkward fix, if it hadn't been for this Lynam whore.
i'I believe that in time, once she understood our goals, Kendall would have accepted the Brotherhood. But her pride would never have let her accept Lottie. And rightfully so. You were committing adultery, son. It wasn't your fault. I know that, He pointed to the corpse. ""Her body was designed by the Devil to make you burn with lust. All the blame belongs to her. She tempted you beyond what you were able to resist.
So don't weep for her."
He clapped Matt on the back Now, let's get our things into the car. We can't let this interfere with what we must do find your son."
Chapter 28
The house was a fair distance from the road and could be reached only via a narrow gravel lane that was lined with dense foliage. Tree branches extended over the road,, forming an almost solid canopy that blocked out the moonlight.
For their purposes, the house couldn't have been better situated.
It was long past midnight. For more than an hour, there hadn't been a single car on the road. Cutting the headlights, they had cruised past the entrance to the lane Several times before finally pulling the car to the edge of a ditch, and turning off the engine. Then they had sat quietly waiting for any indication that their arrival had been noticed. For more than sixty minutes, nothing.
"Do you think she's in there?"
"We won't know until we get inside. She's not going to advertise it."
Darkness concealed them as they left the car avid crept along the lane, wending their way through the foliage' two call shadows blending with myriad others. Thirty yards from the porch, they crouched behind the shrubbery and studied the house previously owned by Elvie Hancock, Kendall's grand mother, using hand signals to communicate, they split up. One SWUng lout wide to the left, the other to the right. Avoiding the clearing, they kept to the shadows of the woods that encircled the property. They approached the rear of the house from different directions and reunited behind a storage shed.
"Seee or hear anything?"
"it's as still as a tomb."
that doesn't mean she's not in there with the baby."
And McGrath?"
Who knows?"
The)y gazed at each other with indecision. Finally one asked the Other, You ready?"
Let's go."
They were prepared to pick the lock on the back door, but they found it unlocked. The door made only a slight squeak when it pulled open. They slipped into the utility room and Soundlessly entered the kitchen through the connecting door.
From what they could tell, it was as neat as a pin. There Were dishes stacked in the sink, no clutter on the counter.
One opened the refrigerator to investigate, but when the light Came on And and the motor began to hum, he quickly closed it.
Kendall1 sat up ""What was that?"
What?"
Something had awakened her and she was unaccountably frightened. "Did you hear something?" she whispered.
John raised his head and listened, but the house was silent.
I don't hear anything. What did it sound like?"
I don't know. I'm sorry I woke you. I guess it was a dream ."
Scary?"
"Must have been."
He resettled his head on the pillow and nuzzled her bare shoulder. "Baby okay?"
"He's fine."
They had kept Kevin in bed with them after his last feeding.
He was cradled against Kendall's chest. She was lying in the curve of John's body, her bottom to his belly, her thighs nestled against his. He hugged her and Kevin closer to him.
She forced herself to relax. With John holding her so closely, she felt safe and secure.
All the same, she was glad that she still had the pistol hidden where John couldn't find it. She despised guns. Bama's death mask was a grim reminder of the devastation they could inflict. Although Matt had repeatedly offered to teach her how to shoot, she had never fired a weapon.
But if it came to saving Kevin's life, or John's, she wouldn't hesitate to shoot to kill.
They had been tiptoeing around inside the house for five minutes but still hadn't learned whether the ir quarry had taken refuge there.
As they moved stealthily through the living areas, it was impossible to tell if the rooms had been occupied recently. In order to look for telltale personal items they needed a flashlight, but they didn't dare, for fear of revealing themselves.
After several minutes of futile groping, one turned to face the other and gave an exaggerated shrug. The other signaled that they should proceed to the bedrooms, where anyone inside the house was likely to be at this time of night.
Single file, they entered the hallway. Three doors opened off it. They were about to enter the first room when the leader nearly stumbled over something, avoiding it just in time. He knelt and picked up the object.
It was a teddy bear.
He held it up for his partner to see. They smiled at each other. The leader pointed to the room across the hall and received a nod of agreement- The door was sli
ghtly ajar. They gave it a gentle push. Slowly, soundlessly, it swung open.
Facing each other from either side of the opening, they silently counted to three, then rushed into the room.
Kendall dropped the correct number of coins into the slot.
The long-distance call was put through and the telephone on the other end began to ring. She gripped the receiver with sweating hands.
Ricki Sue answered on the second ring. "Bristol and Mathers."
"It's me. Don't say anything. Can you talk?"
"Holy Christ, you're alive! I've been sick, sick with worry.
You're the best diet I've ever been on."
"I knew you'd be worried, but I couldn't risk calling before.
I shouldn't be calling now."
"Did you really kidnap a U.S. marshal?" Ricki Sue asked in a low, urgent tone.
"In a manner of speaking."
"What does that mean? Did you or didn't you? Where the devil are you?"
"For your own safety, I can't tell you, and we can't talk long.
They probably have the phones tapped."
"I wouldn't doubt it. Sheridan's crawling with federal agents, and they're all looking for you, kid."
Kendall wasn't surprised. But hearing her fears verbalized caused her already sinking spirits to plummet.
"Agents have been here at the law firm several times," Ricki Sue said. "They've Pored over everything pertaining to Kendall Deaton."
"Oh, God."
"They even stationed guys inside your grandmother's house."
"Inside?" Kendall felt nauseated. Her grandmother would have hated that intrusion into her privacy. "That's so stupid
and unnecessary. Knowing that's the first place they would look for me, I wouldn't go near Grandmother's house."
"The feds weren't the only ones to think you might. Last night, two men broke in, obviously expecting to find you there."
"Two men? Who were they?"
"The FBI had laid a trap, but it didn't work. The intruders got away before they were identified. They ran for their car in a hail of bullets that could have raised the dead, but the authorities don't think they were even wounded."
"But who"
"Don't panic, kid, but it might have been your husband and his daddy."
"They're in jail," Kendall protested weakly.
"Not anymore. They escaped three days ago."
Kendall hung up immediately, but she kept both hands on the receiver, clinging to it like a lifeline. She dreaded turning around, fearing that she would see Matt and Gibb watching her, smiling complacently now that they had her in their sights.
"Are you through with the phone, lady?"
Kendall jumped reflexively, then glanced hastily over her shoulder. A man in a baseball uniform and cleats was waiting impatiently to use the pay phone.
"Oh, sorry."
She moved away, keeping her head low. There seemed nothing sinister afoot at the service station. One customer was pumping gas into his RV. Another was feeding coins into a cigarette vending machine. Two mechanics were standing beneath a car on the hydraulic lift, conferring with its owner.
No one was paying the least bit of attention to the tomboy in jeans and sneakers who bore virtually no similarity to the published photos of Kendall Burnwood, the missing public defender.
State police all over the South would be on the lookout for the car she had driven from Stephensville It was a moving target, and she took an enormous risk each time she drove it.
But she'd needed to learn how the manhunt was proceeding and how close she was to being recaptured.
She hurried back to the car As soon as possible she would at least switch the license plates on it. Inside the car, the heat was breath-stealing, but Kendall was shivering when she pulled onto the highway and started for home.
Home?
Yes. That house had seemed as much a home to her as her grandmother's house in Sheridan. The farmhouse had been a legacy to her grandfather free an clear. Her grandfather had died before having many opportunities to enjoy it, but Kendall and her grandmother had put the property to good use every summer.
As soon as school was dismissed for the season, they headed for the country, where they Spent lazy, days. Some times they fished, sometimes, they canned the fresh fruit they bought at roadside stands, and sometimes they did nothing at all except enjoy each other's company. They read stories aloud to each other in the fields, braided daisy chains on the front porch, and went on frequent picnics at their favorite spot near the waterfall.
They had never entertained guests at the farmhouse. No one was ever invited to join them during their summer hiatus.
Friends knew that every year They left Sheridan in early June and didn't return until after Labor Day, but none knew the location of their retreat. That's why Kendall had known it would be a safe place for her But how safe was she here, now that Matt and Gibb were at large?
Pepperdyne must be frantic He had lost his material witness, his friend John McGraw, and now his prime suspects He had impressed Kendall as a basically kind man with a gruff exterior. She couldn't hate him for doing what he was paid to do. But she would do whatever she could to prevent him from capturing her.
However, she preferred to be arrested again rather than have Matt and Gibb find her. And they would find her. Her only possible chance of survival was to stay ahead of them until they were recaptured and returned to jail. She knew that she should take Kevin and leave tonight.
But what about John?
Although he still walked with one crutch, he was almost completely healed. She could leave him now with a clear conscience.
The hitch was, she didn't want to.
But if she loved him, wasn't that all the more reason to leave? As long as he was near her, his life, too, was in danger.
He wouldn't allow the Burnwoods to lay a hand on her or Kevin, with whom he bonded closer each day. He could lose his life protecting them, and he would die not knowing what it had all been about.
She couldn't let that happen. They had no future together, but, even if she lived the rest of her life without him, she wanted to know that he was alive.
What should she do? Turn herself in?
She immediately dismissed that thought. Ricki Sue had said that the FBI had been to the law office, asking questions, delving into her background. If they found out everything about her, her credibility would be reduced to shreds.
She would be deemed an unreliable witness, so what good would she be to them? Either they would prosecute her for kidnapping John and she would be sent to prison, or the authorities would release her, leaving her without any protection against Matt, his father, and their disciples.
Her only viable choice was to disappear again. She berated herself for having left Kevin with John this afternoon. If she had the baby with her now, she could just keep driving. It would have been heart-wrenching not to see John and tell him a silent goodbye, but leaving after seeing him again would be even harder.
But she knew she must.
"Who fucked up?"
The agents under Pepperdyne's unmerciful gaze didn't say a word. They were afraid to breathe. "Well?" His bellow ;' rattled the window glass in the Sheridan, Tennessee, police station, where he had set up his command post after moving it from Prosper.
One of the two agents involved in the snafu the night before finally worked up enough courage to speak. "We'd been staking out the house ever since her disappearance, sir, and nothing had happened."
"So?"
"So, we . . . uh . . . fucked up," the agent finished lamely.
"Sir?" the other agent ventured timorously. "We were afraid to shoot for fear it might be Mrs. Burnwood. Or Marshal McGrath."
"That's right, sir," his partner chimed in, grateful for this granule of defense. "What if it had been them, and they'd had the baby with them?"
"Well, for all we know it was them. Or maybe it was Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. We don't know who it was, do we?
Because you didn't identify the intruders or get a make on their car."
"It wasn't Mrs. Burnwood," one agent stated adamantly.
"It was definitely two men."
"Oh, definitely two men. Well, that narrows it down.
Maybe it was Batman and Robin." Pepperdyne exhaled, letting ! several obscenities float out on the stream of air. "You guys are going to spend an hour today on a firing range I've set up in the sunniest, hottest spot in this county. You're gonna shoot till your hands are on fire. Because last night you couldn't hit a bull in the butt with a bass fiddle." One of the agents unwisely cracked a smile. "You think that's funny?" Pepper dyne roared.
"You can stay two hours on the range. Now get out of my sight before I get really pissed."
They filed out, closing the door behind them. Alone, pepperdyne sank into the desk chair and dragged his hands down his face. The optimism he had felt upon returning to Stephensville and getting a description of the car had long since fizzled.
He hadn't had a single break in this case from the very beginning, when they'd mistakenly thought they had a computer glitch.
If the computer technician hadn't dismissed the data he had received, Ruthie Fordham would still be alive, and Mrs. Burnwood wouldn't be missing again with John right along with her. By the time they had realized their error and unraveled the data puzzle, John was driving toward disaster. Efforts to reach him on his cellular phone had failed.
Then he'd had a run-in with a felled tree and his memory had been wiped clean.
Jesus. What a bizarre chain of events.
The Burnwoods' jailbreak in Prosper had been another major setback. Now, he not only had to find Mrs. Burnwood and John, he had to find them before those maniacs did. It wasn't going to be easy. She had managed to lose herself in Denver for a whole year before they had tracked her there.
She wasn't dumb enough to return to her hometown, but obviously someone else thought she might. They had gone looking for her in her grandmother's house last night.
Pepperdyne's reaction to the debacle was founded as much on fear as anger and embarrassment. He feared he knew the intruders' identities Gibb and Matt Burnwood.
He gazed down at the photograph of Mrs. Burnwood that had been sent to law enforcement agencies across the country.
Sandra Brown Page 27