Silent Scream (58 page)

“My husband died when my youngest was still in school. It was hard.”

Mary was pacing again, gun in her hand. “How did he die?”

“Car accident. One of my sons was with him. He was paralyzed for a while.”

Mary’s face shadowed. “Like the firefighter will be. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t want to set the other two
fires. Eric and Albert made me.”

She sounded like a wounded child, and Phoebe suspected that, deep down, she was. But the wounded child had killed so many
and right now held a gun. The wounded child needed to be stopped, however possible. Phoebe had spoken the truth. If she had
to, she would use the gun to stop Mary.
If I have to, I’ll kill her.

For now, all Phoebe had was her quiet voice and her instinct that was screaming that this girl craved a mother. “I know, honey.
But you did. There are consequences to your actions. The condo fire you set killed two people.”

Mary shook her head. “No. No. We didn’t know the girl was there. And somebody else killed the guard. That wasn’t me.”

“My son almost died that night. He almost fell four stories. David would have died.”

“He caught the ball,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”

“What did you think would happen when you set the fire, Mary? Did you think it would burn nicely and stop all by itself? You
set fires, firefighters come. It’s what they do. You lit a match and put a dozen men and women in mortal danger.”

“Nothing happened to them.”

“Not Sunday night. What about last night? David almost died again, and his partner may never walk again. And don’t tell me
you didn’t mean for that to happen, Mary,” she ordered sharply and saw the girl flinch. Satisfied she’d delivered her point,
she softened her tone. “You have to run or turn yourself in. Those are the only choices I see here.”

“Eric was going to France. I should have kept him alive so he could take me, too.”

Phoebe didn’t think her blood could go much colder, but she was wrong. There was no remorse for the murder, only Mary’s regret
that she hadn’t been more forward-thinking.

“Well, you didn’t. So, coming full circle, what do you plan to do with me?”

Mary tensed, then slapped the gun on the counter. “I’m going to shut you up.”

Phoebe watched, breath held, as Mary rummaged in the kitchen drawers. She came out of the kitchen with a pair of scissors
and a large roll of duct tape. “Lincoln brought this with him the last time we came. He fixed the swing outside for me.” She
slapped a piece of tape over Phoebe’s mouth, dragged the chair around the back of the
sofa, and shoved it over on its side. “Now I don’t have to look at you or listen to you.”

Phoebe tried to ignore the pain jolting through her stiff joints. She’d pushed the girl as far as she dared. It was clear
Mary didn’t want to hurt her now, but if the girl became more desperate, that could change.

There was a chill at her back. The sliding glass door was a few feet away. If Mary went to sleep, and if she could scoot close
enough, and if she could manage to get the door open… It was damn frustrating to have an escape so close and so far away.

Okay, David, I’m ready for you to come get me now.

Wednesday, September 22, 7:15 p.m.

T
hat’s done.” Olivia glued Kirby’s photo into the array. Austin was on his way in with his mother, so hopefully the ID and
the subsequent warrant wouldn’t take long.

“I sent the text from Austin’s phone to the fake Kenny account,” Noah said. “We’ve got SWAT and snipers surrounding the meet.
We picked an area that’ll be deserted this time of night. I’ll stake it out. You go home, rest your head.”

“I’ll go, too, as soon as Austin ID’s Kirby.” Too nervous to sit, she checked her messages. Deleting the ones from reporters,
she stopped dead in her tracks as she listened to David’s voice, then pulled her camera from her desk drawer before the message
was over. “Noah, David knows where Mary went. Up at the lake, near the condo.”

“David and Tom went up alone?” he demanded and she flashed him a look.

“What do you think?”

They started to run, then stopped at Abbott’s command. “What’s going on?”

“David found Mary,” Olivia said. “We have to move.”

“Where’s your vest?”

She slapped at her shoulder, realized she still wore the
ice pack. “In the conference room. Go get the car,” she said to Noah. “I’ll suit up and meet you downstairs.”

Wednesday, September 22, 7:25 p.m.

“That’s it.” David pointed to a green awning, about a hundred yards away. They’d parked as close as they dared and now crept
through the heavy trees lining the lakeshore. “I wish I had binoculars.”

“I wish I had a gun,” Tom muttered. “What’s our plan?”

“I don’t know,” David whispered back. “Yet. Just hurry.” They ran as noiselessly as possible. And then David’s heart stopped.
No. Please, no.

They were at the edge of the cabin’s backyard. There was a sliding glass patio door in the rear wall. A few feet from the
glass door was the back of a sofa. And behind that sofa lay his mother on her side, tied to a chair.

He heard the swift intake of Tom’s breath. “Is she moving?”

“I can’t see. Stay here, I’ll get closer. If anything happens, you run.”

“Where are the police?” Tom hissed, grabbing his arm.

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re coming without sirens. Trust me.”

He came up on the house from the side, his feet light. Crouching low, he moved along the back of the cabin, peering in the
glass door, and relief hit him like an iron fist.

His mother was shifting her feet. She was bound at the ankles, her arms wrapped around the chair and tied at the wrists. There
was no blood. No injuries he could see. He could cut her free in under ten seconds.

Except that Mary was in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove. The gun was on the counter next to her. Mary might be a
lousy shot, but if she saw the glass door slide open, she might shoot, get lucky, and actually hit one of them.

He motioned to Tom who followed the path he’d taken, hunkering down next to him. “She’s okay,” David whispered. “Mary still
has a gun. We need a diversion.”

“We need a damn gun,” Tom muttered.

“Well, we don’t have one,” David snapped quietly. “I want you to go to the front and find the biggest whatever you can find.
Rock, tree branch, anything you can heft. Throw it through that kitchen window and run like hell. If you hit Mary, great.
If not, she’ll be startled enough by the glass breaking that I can get through that door and get Mom out.”

“And if she’s not startled, or goes after you?”

“I’ll get Mom out.”

“And get shot.”

“Not if you hit Mary with the damn rock. You’re the hoops star. Pretend like it’s a throw from the three-point line.”

“It’s a stupid plan. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

David twisted to stare him down. “You got a better one?”

Tom gritted his teeth. “No.” He started to move, then David grabbed his arm.

“Wait. Someone’s coming.”

Tom’s sigh was relieved. “The cops. With guns.” He started to move again.

“Wait. It’s not a cop car.” The engine sound was wrong. “It’s got a bad plug.”

“What?”

“It’s got a bad spark plug,” David said between his teeth. “Wait.”

“We need to get her out of there,” Tom insisted.

“You move now, you might get her killed. Wait. Trust me.” He didn’t breathe, just stood there waiting, dreading what would
come next. His instincts were right.

He could hear the cabin’s front door burst open, a shrill scream, and the voice that had often asked him how many creams for
his coffee.

“Hey, sis,” Kirby said. “Miss me?”

Next to him, Tom’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Now what?” he mouthed.

He stood there grinning at Mary’s slack-jawed shock at seeing him, especially the gun in his hand. Her eyes flicked to the
puny gun on the counter and he chuckled. “Don’t even think about it.”

“How…?” Mary stared. “How did you know?”

“What, that you were here? Mary Fran. I figured you hadn’t picked the condo at random.” He looked around. “The place hasn’t
changed much since Mom and Dad brought us here. I bet you had Joel thinking it was all his idea. Savin’ the wetlands.”

Realization dawned in her eyes. “
You
. You were there. You videotaped us. You made us do the other fires. You
blackmailed
us.”

“I did.” He nodded smugly. “I totally did. I have to admit I wondered what game you were playing—until I heard about the glass
ball. Nice touch. Brought the old man down out of reservation lands. Got his hopes up for the big kill. Kudos.”

Her chin lifted. “I wanted him to think he’d finally gotten his great white whale.”

“For thirty seconds he might have, but the balls were different. Even Crawford was smart enough to see a copycat.”

She shook her head. “No. I had details nobody else knew. Crawford thinks it’s Moss’s people. He thinks he has someone who
can lead him to Moss, but he can’t.”

“Really?” He had to admit he was now intrigued. “How did you find these details?”

“I e-mailed the webmaster of Moss’s Web site. Flattered him, told him that I loved Moss, too. We met in person and he trusted
me. Told me things I used to set Crawford up, to bring him to me. I wanted to make Crawford think his dream was in reach.”

E-mail… She merely updated her old tricks with new technology. “And then?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I know where Moss is. I would have made him beg, like Mom begged. Then I would have killed him.”

“Well, you can die knowing that I did it for you.” He aimed his gun, watched the remaining color drain from her face. “You
set me up ten years ago. Today you pay.”

She took a step back. “I didn’t mean to, Jonathan. I never meant it to happen.”

“I’m sure you didn’t. Because you never think past the end of your goddamn nose. Where’s the old lady? The hostage you took.
Hunter, right? I bet she’s related to that pretty firefighter who caught your glass ball. Where did you stash her? In the
closet
?”

She shook her head. “I killed her already. Left her body in her car.”

“That was stupid. She could have been your ticket to France.” He laughed at that. “Eric was an idiot. Did you kill him, or
was it Albert?”

“No,” she said faintly, her eyes on the gun in his hand. “I killed them all.”

“Even Joel? I’d given that one to Albert.”

She closed her eyes, her throat working as she swallowed hard. “Joel was losing it. He was going to tell. I gave him the first
pill, just to calm him down.”

“But when he woke up, he’d still be hysterical. He couldn’t live with that girl’s face in the window. So you decided to make
it easier for everyone. Or for yourself. I have to give it to you. You’ve never changed.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she said desperately. “I was only thirteen. I froze.”

“In the closet, with the cordless phone in your hand. If I’d known you were going to play that game, I would have called 911
myself. But I gave you the phone….” His jaw tightened as the memory came back, as clear as if it had happened this morning
instead of ten years ago. “And I tried to fight an ex-con with a big grudge and a bigger bat.” He stepped closer to her. “An
ex-con
you
brought there.”

She shook her head. “No. He wanted revenge against Crawford. It was supposed to have been Crawford who died. Not Mom. Never
Mom.”

“But Crawford wasn’t home, ’cuz he was off chasin’ Moss, and the mean ex-con wasn’t choosy, was he?” he asked bitterly. “I
got to watch him beat Mom’s head in and then I enjoyed a little of his revenge. Put me in the hospital for a month.”

“I know,” she gritted from behind clenched teeth.

“Ah, because you were
there
. Listening. In the
closet
. Did you hear him call for you? I did. He called your name again and again. He knew your name.” He leaned forward, eyes narrowed.
“Did you really think no one would find out, Mary Fran?”

She took an unsteady step back. “You knew?”

“Oh yeah. I knew. After I got out of the hospital, they told me they’d caught the bad ex-con. That they’d thrown away the
key and he’d never get out of prison. But I kept remembering how he’d called your name. I thought I’d dreamed it but knew
I hadn’t. So I visited him and I asked him how he knew you. Why he called for you.”

“He told you about the letters,” she murmured.

“He did. What did you
think
would
happen
when you wrote letters to men in prison saying how you hated your stepdaddy as much as they did and if they ever wanted your
help to kill him, you’d be happy to oblige? Why did you do it?”

“Because I was thirteen and I thought they’d never get out!” she cried. She sank to the floor, sobbing. “I thought they’d
never get out of jail, and if they did, they’d come after Crawford. He was the one who put them there. Not me. It wasn’t my
fault.”

“No, it never is, is it? It’s never your fault.”

David watched, horrified, as Kirby rounded the kitchen counter, his gun aimed at Mary’s head. Thought about how coolly Kirby
had shot Crawford in front of a police station. There was no doubt that Mary would be next. He glanced at his mother, still
tied to the chair. Kirby didn’t yet know she was there, but they couldn’t take the chance that he’d find out. Once the gun
was pointed at his mother’s head, it would be too late.

Kirby wouldn’t let any witnesses live.

He looked at his empty hands, wishing like hell he had a weapon. Any weapon. But all he had was a stupid penknife.
I need a gun. Why the hell didn’t I get a gun?

But he didn’t have one and he couldn’t change that now. He made himself shut out the fear and focus on a way to get his mother
free. He could hear Kirby’s car out front, still running, and a plan formed in his mind. He leaned over to whisper in his
nephew’s ear. “Tom, this is what I want you to do. Don’t argue, just trust me. Can you do that?”