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Then Tammy let loose, screamed to the rafters, “One goddamned arm! Just look at me—my fucking sleeve is empty! I nearly died from the infection, damn him to hell. He shot my arm off! After I set the Ghouls on you, after they’ve gnawed you to a bloody mess, I’m going to get him, get him, GET HIM!”

Lily kept her mouth shut, tried to pull herself together enough to work on the duct tape. She wished she could raise her hands and use her teeth, but Tammy would notice that for sure. At least her hands were still bound in front of her; that might give her some chance.

Tammy drew a deep breath as she slowly lowered the gun. Her eyes focused again, on Lily. “You’re like him—stubborn.”

“How did you get past all the agents guarding the house?”

“Stupid buggers, all of them. It was easy. There’s hardly any challenge anymore. I didn’t let them see me.”

Lily didn’t want to believe anything that outrageous, but she said, “And they couldn’t see me either?”

“Oh yes. Nothing to it. Just dragged you out, wearing that cute little nightgown—sorry I didn’t get you a coat. But I figured after you realized what was going to happen to you, you’d want to feel the cold, better than being dead and not feeling anything at all. Now, little sister, move into the goddamned circle!”

“No.”

Tammy raised the gun and fired. Lily cried out, unable to help herself. She threw herself to the right, off the bale of hay, felt the hot whoosh of the bullet not an inch from her cheek, and rolled and kept rolling, pulling and twisting at the tape on her wrists. Another bullet hit a pile of moldering hay and spewed it upward.

Then Tammy stopped shooting. She walked over to Lily and stood still, staring down at her, the gun pointed at her chest. Lily looked up, frozen, afraid to move, afraid even to breathe.

Lily said, finally, “You have a problem, don’t you, Tammy? The Ghouls won’t come if I’m not staked like a tethered goat in that black circle, right? So get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tammy didn’t say a thing to that, just turned and walked away, her strides in those heavy, black boots long and solid. Lily watched her disappear into the tack room and close the door behind her, hard.

It was so silent that Lily could hear the barn groan as the rising wind hit it. Then Lily heard a scream, a woman’s scream, Tammy’s scream and two gunshots, loud, sharp.

Dillon ran out of the tack room toward her, his SIG Sauer in his hand, yelling, “Lily! Oh my God, are you all right, sweetheart? Everything’s okay. I got into the tack room, shot her before she saw me. Oh God, are you hit?”

She felt such relief she thought she’d choke on it. She yelled, “Dillon, you came! I kept her talking, knew I had to keep her talking. Oh God, she’s so scary. Then she started shooting at me and I thought it was all over—”

Lily stopped cold. Dillon was nearly to her, not more than six feet away, when suddenly Lily didn’t see her brother anymore. She saw Tammy. She wasn’t holding Dillon’s SIG Sauer; she was holding that same little ugly gun that was hers. Her brain froze. Just simply froze. She couldn’t accept what she was seeing, what was right in front of her, she just couldn’t. Oh, God.

“Honey, are you okay?”

It was Tammy’s voice, no longer Dillon’s.

Then Lily realized it really was Tammy. She thought she’d seen Dillon because she wanted to so much, and Tammy wanted her to. And Tammy thought it was working.

Oh God, oh God.

Lily said, “I’m okay. I’m so glad you’re here, Dillon, so glad.”

Tammy dropped to her knees beside Lily and turned her onto her side. “Let me get that tape off you, sweetheart. There, let me just slip the knife under the tape. Good, you’ve already loosened it. You could have gotten yourself free and away, couldn’t you?” Then Tammy Tuttle pulled Lily against her and hugged her, kissed her hair. Stroked her single hand down her back. Lily felt Tammy’s slight breasts against hers.

Tammy had laid the gun on the ground, just a hand’s length away from her, not more than six inches. “Just hold me, Dillon. Oh, God, I was so scared. I’m so glad you came so quickly.”

She cried, sobbed her heart out, felt Tammy squeeze her and kiss her hair again. Lily’s hand moved slowly toward the gun, slowly, until her fingers touched the butt.

Tammy swept up the gun, tucked it into her waistband, and said, “Let me help you up, honey. That’s right. You’re okay now. Sherlock is just outside with the other agents. Let’s go see them.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter FBI Thriller Mystery