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“How many bodies are we going to find in the woods, Franny? How many!”
“We were doing just fine—”
“With Bill digging graves and you managing things in the sheriff’s department so no one ever connected the dots on all the girls who appeared and disappeared? You’re going to jail, Franny. And your son, as well as Bill, Dorothea, and every single person in this town if that’s what it takes. You’re all going down.”
The woman snorted. “Now who’s crazy? The sheriff and that young man aren’t coming back. Those tunnels go on forever. You need a guide. Not to mention, Bill is already closing in from the other side. I shut this secret door, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I will. And you’re in no position to stop me.”
Franny smiled. Again, it wasn’t a nice look on her face. “Clayton will take care of you. Right after he’s done with the girl.”
“Your son is here?”
“Way ahead of you.”
“That’s why Bonita ran.”
“She doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Franny,” D.D. said coolly. “You severely injured my right arm. It means you attacked a police officer. It means I can respond with deadly force.”
“With the table between us, I’m hardly a threat to you now.”
“And where are the witnesses to testify to that?”
The woman paused. She still held the poker, but for the first time appeared uncertain. Her gaze once more flicked to the open doorway. Looking for her son, waiting for her son. Which was why she’d been willing to talk as much as D.D.
But D.D. couldn’t afford to stall any longer. Not with this Clayton monster chasing Bonita.
D.D. raised her sidearm with her left hand. All those years of practice... She had nothing to doubt. Nothing to fear.
Her left finger on the trigger. Slight squeeze. She fired.
The bullet smacked Franny’s right shoulder. The poker clattered to the floor as the woman staggered back, clutching at her injury, surprise written all over her face.
“I would have aimed for your heart,” D.D. informed her, “if I thought you had one.”
The older woman collapsed to the floor, still staring at D.D. in shock.
“You won’t immediately die from that wound. Then again, without prompt medical treatment, plenty of things could go wrong. I suggest you start atoning for your sins sooner versus later.”
D.D. took a second to check out her right arm again, rotating it slowly, flexing her fingers. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but didn’t seem to be broken. Bone bruise maybe. Hardly mattered. She could handle the pain. She would do whatever necessary to keep her promise to Bonita. Now, she leaned over the table till she could look Franny in the eye. Already the woman’s brow was beaded with sweat, her body starting to tremble as shock set in.
“Hey, Franny,” D.D. said in her nicest voice. “I’m going to go find your son. And then, I’m going to kill him.”
