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“Explain that to me.”
“Well, it couldn’t appear that Calder Hudson had been targeted.”
Upon hearing his name, Calder’s gut tensed.
“Because then they’d begin looking into his background for someone holding a grudge, and that might have led to us. It had to look random.”
Elle was slow to respond. “But, Dawn, you thought you’d killed Calder. You said you’d got off a lucky shot. So, after you saw that he was down, why did you continue firing into the crowd?”
“Calder never cared how many people he hurt, did he? I’ll bet he never gave a thought to secondary victims like Mom and me. We were collateral damage. He didn’t give us any regard, so why should I care who suffered because of him?
“Besides, Elle,” she added as though speaking to an ignoramus, “to qualify as a mass shooting, there have to be four or more people shot. I had to make it look good.”
Appearing sickened by Dawn’s callousness, Elle turned her head aside. When she did, she spied his reflection in the mirror. In involuntary reaction, her body jerked. He shook his head and held his finger up to his lips.
She glanced quickly at Dawn, but apparently Dawn was oblivious.
Calder leaned forward slightly to get a better view into the living room through the mirror. Before making a move, he wanted to know the layout. Dawn was seated on a sofa, her back to him. She had her head turned away from Elle, toward the television, he supposed.
In the interview, Elle was saying,“I blame only the person who pulled the trigger.”
Sounding pleased, Dawn chortled, “You were talking about me and didn’t even know it.”
Shauna said,“Let’s assume the assailant at the safe house was the Fairground shooter. It was awfully brazen of him.”
“Notice that she refers to the shooter as him?” Dawn said with scorn. “Everyone does. As though a woman couldn’t do it.”
“Brazen but not brave,”Calder heard Elle say.
“What?” Dawn screeched. “What did you mean by that?”
Calmly, Elle said, “I meant exactly what I said, Dawn.”
“Can you expand on that?”Shauna asked.
“Brazenness requires only a warped ego. Whether inflated or trampled, that ego is controlling the individual’s actions.”
Dawn lunged to her feet. “You called me warped? How dare you.”
“You think it’s this warped ego that’s driving the unknown suspect?”
“Well, I’m not a psychiatrist, but what does bravery have to do with firing a semiautomatic handgun into a dense crowd of people who are defenseless? Nothing. That’s not bravery; that’s depravity. To kill a two-year-old doesn’t take courage. It’s the epitome of cowardice.”
“Youbitch!” Dawn screamed. She hauled off and struck Elle hard across the face with the pistol.
Calder launched himself into the living room, hurdled the sofa, and knocked Dawn facedown onto the floor, then fell on top of her.
But he fell short.
She’d stretched her arm far out in front of her along the floor, putting her gun hand out of his reach. She got off three shots before the whole house seemed to implode as all the doors burst open and SWAT officers swarmed in from every direction.
Using that nanosecond of distraction, Calder pushed himself higher up on Dawn’s back, reached as far as he could, and managed to grip her wrist. He anchored her hand to the floor and kept the shots she continued to fire aimed only at the baseboard.
She was screaming like a demon and trying to buck Calder off. A booted foot planted itself on the back of her gun hand. “Let go of the weapon! Let go of the weapon!”
Another SWAT officer pulled Calder off her and shoved him out of the way as others surrounded Dawn to disarm and subdue her.
Calder staggered over to the chair where one of the men in full gear was removing the duct tape from Elle’s arms. As soon as she was free, she threw herself against Calder. He didn’t see any blood on her, but as he clutched her to him, he asked if she’d been shot.
