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From out of the darkness up above, Sheriff Carter reeled backwards and fell onto the staircase. Valerie watched in horror as he tumbled down the stairs, his body smacking against the hard marble floor at the bottom.
Valerie rushed to him.
"Glen!"
"I think I broke my leg," he said.
She breathed a sigh of relief that he was still conscious. Blood oozed from a gash on his left cheek.
"He leaped out at me," he said. "Slashed my face."
"I won't leave you," she said.
"No, you have to," the sheriff said reassuringly.
"You'll be a sitting duck if he comes your way," Valerie said.
"I still have Dolores," he said, holding his revolver.
"You named your gun?" she asked.
"No, my wife did. Dolores was her mother's name. She gave the gun to me and told me it would protect me like she did."
A thump sounded from upstairs. Then a woman's loud scream.
"Go!" the sheriff shouted.
Valerie wasn't waiting any longer. This was it. Either Logan was leaving in cuffs, or she was leaving in a body bag. She rushed up the stairs and reached the top.
Another scream came. Valerie held her gun out in front of her and pushed forward down a darkened hall.
The screams grew louder as she approached a closed door at the end of the hall. She opened it and stepped inside.
What Valerie saw made her freeze in terror. Logan Bartlett was standing in the middle of the room, his face twisted in rage, and his body shaking with anger. He had a rope tied around his mother's neck, hoisted up to the ceiling, her quivering body swaying back and forth like a pendulum.
Logan was laughing hysterically as he pulled on the rope, tightening it more and more. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, his clothes disheveled.
"Freeze!" Valerie shouted.
Logan turned and snarled at Valerie. He let go of the rope, and his mother's still breathing body dropped to the floor.
He rushed towards Valerie. She took aim and managed to hit him in the side. Then another in his shoulder. But the man wouldn't stop. His eyes were wide and filled with violent vengeance.
He reached Valerie and punched at her head. Valerie ducked this time and kneed him in the stomach.
His bloodied hands reached up and grabbed her hair.
"My friends will protect me!" he screamed, dragging Valerie out into the hall by her hair.
Twisting Logan's wrist, she snapped it back. He let go of her hair and howled in pain.
"No one will save you from yourself, Logan," Valerie said.
Logan backed away and grabbed a small table and vase in the hallway. He hurled it at Valerie, who deftly side stepped out of the way.
"My friends will never let you put me in jail. I am their servant. They are my protectors."
"And who are your friends?"
