The seventeen-year-old Thoroughbred trotted twenty yards behind Annalise. She turned for the creek bed. The cats called out Harry’s location to Tomahawk.
“Get her before she makes it to the trees!” Pewter shrieked as loud as she could, sank her claws into a tree, and climbed at warp speed. She hoped Annalise would walk under this tree, since it was at the best crossing. If she got this far, Pewter could drop onto her. Pewter devoutly hoped the doctor wouldn’t get to that point.
Harry’s face and hands bled from the thorns. Her T-shirt was ripped, her body looking like she’d run through barbed wire. Her mind remained clear. No panic. She felt she had a slim chance.
Annalise saw movement in the grasses. Birds flew out of the shrubs. She saw a flash of shoe as Harry slipped down toward the crossing. Taking aim, she fired, just missing Harry’s boot heel.
In a gallop, Tomahawk rode right onto Annalise, knocking her down. She knew the horses were behind her, but it never occurred to her she’d be in danger from them. Flat on her face, Annalise struggled to rise, the gun knocked out of her hand. Before she could rise to her knees, Shortro plowed into her, full weight on her back. The massive weight on those iron-shod hooves broke her back.
Annalise couldn’t move her legs. Her upper body worked. She pulled herself toward the gun, but Tucker grabbed her wrist, biting down for all she was worth. Then the dog grabbed the gun, running to give it to Harry.
Harry slid down to the water’s edge. She caught her breath as the dog gave her the gun.
“Tucker!” Mrs. Murphy rubbed against the panting dog.
Speechless for once, Pewter backed down the tree.
Having neutralized Annalise, Tomahawk and Shortro noticed the alfalfa and orchard grass in Coop’s back pasture. They walked away, put their heads down, and enjoyed it. Someone else’s pasture always seemed better than one’s own.
Harry wiped her forehead, smearing blood all over. She then noticed her hands were torn. Blood dripped down her cheeks, seeping through her torn T-shirt—an old favorite. Whatever was on the thorns began to sting.
Hearing Annalise’s shriek of pain, Harry hugged her dog, blood now on Tucker’s fur. Both cats sat at her feet.
Pewter, who’d had the best view, said, “You wouldn’t believe what Tomahawk and Shortro did to Annalise!”
Harry looked down. “You all stayed right up with me.” She choked up, cleared her throat, then warily walked out, using trees as cover, to see where Annalise was. Harry might have Annalise’s gun, but she was keenly aware how powerful Annalise was. She was shocked when she saw her lying in the pasture.
The doctor had rolled on her back. “Can’t move my legs.”
“Hurt?” Harry asked.
“No. My hand hurts more,” Annalise replied. “You look like hell.”
“If you had your way, I’d be dead.” Harry put the safety on the pistol. “This gun is heavy.”
“Cost me a thousand dollars. And yes, you would be dead. I like you. I like you a lot, Harry, but you were going to ruin my project.”
“Got a cellphone on you?”
“No.” She asked, “Pull me to a tree and prop me up?”
“No. You’re stronger than I am. I saw your bench press, remember? You’ll try to choke me.”
Annalise didn’t deny it. “Then shoot me. I know you won’t give me the gun to shoot myself. Just shoot me. Self-defense. Everyone will buy it.”
“They might, but I won’t.”
“Harry, is it possible to be too principled?”
“How would you know? In your case, you haven’t any.”
Annalise’s eyes flashed. “I was helping hundreds of people over the years. The stupidity of our government causes so much suffering, prevents millions—literally millions—from healthy lives. I cut through all the bullshit and helped them myself.”
Harry sat a bit away from Annalise so the prone woman couldn’t reach her. The animals listened, too. They remained vigilant.
“I don’t know about that, but once I knew it was you, I figured you had to be making a lot of money.”
Annalise began talking too fast. At first she made no sense. “He first got wobbly when a piece of skull, the base, which is just above the pituitary gland, was on his desk. I swore it was Thadia, who was so obsessed with him, she had to have been spying. I have no doubt she got into the hospital morgue, not all that difficult, rolled out a harvested corpse, and checked it out. Our removals wouldn’t be obvious, not like a missing arm. But Thadia, like most dedicated addicts, knew a great deal about the human body and body chemistry. Thadia knew where that small pituitary gland was located. She’d know if it was removed. She knew. It’s amazing the woman lived as long as she did, and I think one of the reasons was she understood drugs’ effect on her own body and on others’. Think of the good she could have done if she’d taken organic chemistry, gotten into med school.”
Annalise stopped, then started anew. “That woman was a complete waste. Cory and I both made a lot of money, but that wasn’t my primary purpose. After I killed Paula, he said he wanted out, once he figured it out—which took him ten days. Well, how long before wanting out meant chickening out, or even possibly turning me in to save himself if he thought our business might be discovered? Weak. Didn’t want to kill him—or anyone else—but it really was them or me. My work must be protected.”
“How can you do good when you kill people?” Pewter asked.
“It’s a human thing.” Mrs. Murphy lifted the tip of her tail, then let it flutter down again. “You can kill anyone, and as many as you want, if you justify it by religion or calling someone an enemy. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter if it makes sense to us. They kill us, too. We just kill to eat.”
Harry sighed. “It’s a long walk to the barn.” She wiped her cheek, still dripping blood, with the back of her hand. “I liked you. I just don’t get it.”
“In some ways, we’re alike. You figured out I removed Paula, Thadia, and Cory using some reasoning and your instincts. Maybe a better way to put it is you thought by synthesis instead of analysis. If it hadn’t been for you, I think I could have gotten another job, say, on the West Coast, with excellent references, a big bank account, and continued my efforts out there.”
“Maybe. You underestimate Sheriff Shaw and Coop. They aren’t hick law enforcement people.”
“Maybe not, but it would have taken them so much longer. If nothing else, the tangle of laws would have slowed them down. It would have been a while before they could arrest me. And you have to admit my program is ingenious.” She shook her hand. “Tucker has strong jaws.”
“Next time I’ll bite your hand clean off,” the dog threatened.
“Why did you kill Paula?”
“She was meticulous, observant. She made notes about things that weren’t even her province, like the bodies coming in after car wrecks or whatever for organ harvests. She knew who was operating when. She knew who received an organ transplant. She knew when a liver was shipped out. Her interests exceeded the operating room. She noticed that Cory and sometimes Jennifer attended my autopsies and organ harvests. Cory almost always attended when I worked on a healthy, young person.
“Once we disagreed about an operating time—oh, from months back—and she showed me her notebook. She was right about the time. That’s when I realized she could be dangerous. Another one of those rigidly moral people who lose the forest for the trees.
“My mistake wasn’t so much in killing her. I would have easily gotten away with that except for you. It was miscalculating how much it would take to destroy her files. I overdid it at Pinnacle Records.”
“You set that fire?”