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“He was watching,” Holly said. “He waited until she kissed her mother’s coffin, then he blew it. I’m telling you, we can still get him.”
The captain began barking orders into his radio.
Holly looked around: She counted at least eight dead bodies, and there were another dozen or fifteen badly injured people.
Sirens were screaming in all directions now; ambulances arrived, so did police cars, marked and unmarked.
Holly began running; all she wanted was a shot at Trini. She ran down one side of the square, looking into shop windows, some of them blown out, and at second-story windows and into parked cars. A commercial van was parked just ahead of her. She yanked open the driver’s door and stuck her gun out. “Freeze, police!”
A startled uniformed cop stared back at her.
“Sorry,” she said, and slammed the door. She continued down the street, turned a corner, and kept going. She didn’t stop until she had covered the whole square.
Harry was waiting for her. “He’s gone,” he said. “We won’t get him today.”
“Shit, Harry, we blew it,” Holly said, “and I got a lot of people killed.”
“It isn’t your fault, Holly, it’s Trini’s fault.”
“Bust the Pellegrinos, Harry, do it now.”
“That would not be a good move, Holly. There’s more going on than you know about.”
“Oh, I believe that,” Holly said. “I don’t know a goddamned thing!” She was fuming.
“Holly, I think you ought to move out of Grant’s house,” Harry said. “You’ve been there too long, and I’m afraid Trini or one of his people will find you. Is there somewhere else you can go? To Ham’s, maybe?”
Holly shook her head. “No, Ham has a girlfriend living there, and there’s only one bedroom.” Then she remembered something. “There is someplace else, though.”
“Where?”
“I’ll let you know,” Holly said.
Holly drove back to Orchid Beach, the scene in the churchyard playing back in her head, over and over. She kept seeing Marina’s image through the high-powered binoculars, and then Marina didn’t exist anymore.
She drove into the driveway and was met by her own officer.
“Everything all right, Chief?” he asked.
“No,” Holly said. “Nothing’s all right.” She left him standing there and went into the house. Grant was on the phone, but he ended his conversation and hung up.
“I heard,” he said. “It’s been all over the TV. I’m sorry, Holly.”
“Me too,” she said, starting upstairs.
“Do you want a drink?”
“I have to get out of here, Grant.”
He followed her up the stairs and came into the bedroom, where she was stuffing her things into her bag. “You shouldn’t go home, Holly.”
“I’m not going home.”
“Are you going to Ham’s?”
She started back down the stairs. “No.”
He followed her across the living room. “Then where are you going?”
