She felt the bile of terror in her throat and swallowed. She couldn't, wouldn't give up until he killed her. She thought of Dillon. He'd go nuts if Marlin killed her.
He'd already had one woman he loved leave him. She wasn't about to let Marlin kill her.
36
THE LIGHT WAS SEADY now, becoming brighter with each step she took. It was from a narrow beam of light that he'd strung some eight feet overhead. She was nearly to the center of the maze now. She heard Hannah moan. She heard Martin's breathing. Hannah moaned louder. The moans weren't from pain. Hannah was giving her directions. Yes, both she and Marlin were at about ten o'clock. She could picture him standing there over Hannah, the Magnum in his hand, a big smile on his face. Waiting for her. He couldn't wait. Where was Erasmus? Had he moved at all?
"Hannah? Can you hear me? Are you all right?"
"I'm all right, Sherlock." Then she moaned again, a nice lusty moan. "The bastard just kicked me."
"Hang in there, please, just hang in there."
And she knew that Hannah was thinking frantically. She knew whatever she tried, Hannah would help her if she could.
There was no sound now except for Marlin's jerky deep breathing.
Had Dillon found her message? Had he even gone to her house yet? Of course he had. She swallowed. Nearly there. Nearly to Marlin.
She walked into bright light, two spotlights shining directly into her face. She shaded her eyes with her right hand. In her left hand was the string, ready now, if only he didn't see it, if only she had time and opportunity.
"Hello, Marty," he said, nearly gasping with pleasure. "You're here."
He was standing beside Hannah, his chest puffed out, looking very proud of himself. He looked happy. His eyes were dead and glittered. He was grinning at her.
She grinned back at him. "Hi, you little fucker. How's tricks? Have you killed any more women since you escaped from that madhouse in Boston?"
He lurched, as if she'd gut-punched him. "It wasn't a madhouse!"
"Sure it was. It was the state madhouse."
"I was just there to talk to some shrinks, nothing else. I was just visiting for a little while."
"If that judge hadn't been such an idiot, they'd have you right now in a padded cell. You know what else? They'd shackle your legs together and walk you right out of your padded cell to the electric chair. Then they'd fry you. It will still happen, Marlin. Can you imagine the pain, Marlin?"
"Damn you, shut up! Be quiet! Show some respect for me. I won, damn you, I won! Not you. You're just standing there, nothing going for you this time. I'm the big winner. You're nothing, Marty, nothing at all."
"That's right, Marlin, you've won. Even though you haven't had any women walk to the center of your maze since your escape, you've still managed to kill very dangerous and very heavily armed homeless people and teenagers. That's real big of you, Marlin. Real manly. You make me puke."
"No, that was my Pa!"
"Same difference. You're his very image."
He was panting now, trying to hold himself back, and she pushed harder. "You know what, Marlin? I once thought you were pretty good-looking. You know what you look like now? You look like you're ready to drip saliva from your mouth. Is that true? Are you ready to froth at the mouth, Marlin? I've never seen a sorrier excuse for a man in my life."
He snapped. He ran at her, the knife raised. Hannah jerked from her left to her right side, whipped up her bound legs and tripped him. He went sprawling, sliding on his stomach almost to Lacey's feet. She was on him in an instant, looping the thick knotted string around his throat. She had her knee in the small of his back, pulling back on the string, bringing his face off the wooden floor. She knew it was cutting deep into his neck.
"Hannah, where's his gun?"
"Hannah can't get it, Marty."
She turned slowly to see Erasmus holding Hannah's head back at an impossible angle. He had her hair wrapped around his left hand. His right hand held a twelve-inch hunting knife to her throat. "Let my boy go, Marty."
"I will if you release Hannah. Now, Erasmus."
He shook his head slowly. The knife point punched into Hannah's skin. A drop of blood welled up and trickled down to disappear into her running top. Lacey saw no fear on her face, what she saw was some kind of message in her eyes. What?
"You release him real slow, Marty, or the knife goes all the way in."
"The knife goes all the way in, Erasmus, and your sweet boy here is dead." She twisted the string. Marlin gurgled. His face was darkening. She jerked back his head so his daddy could see him. He thrashed with his arms and legs, but he couldn't dislodge her.
Erasmus screamed, "You bitch! Loosen the knot! You're choking him, he's turning blue!"
Suddenly, Hannah sent her elbow back with all her strength into Erasmus's stomach.
He yelled, loosened his grip just a bit, just enough so Hannah could roll away from him and that hunting knife.
There was a single shot, loud and hot in the heavy silent air. Erasmus took the bullet in the middle of his forehead. He stared toward Lacey, surprise widening his eyes even in his own death. Slowly, so very slowly, he fell forward. Hannah rolled out of his way. He landed on his face. They heard his nose break, loud and obscene in the silence.
"Pa! Damn you, you killed my pa!"
Marlin jerked back, grabbed Lacey's wrists and pulled her over his head. She landed on her back, winded. Marlin was on her, sitting on her chest, leaning into her face, his knife right under her nose.
"I've got you now, bitch. You killed my pa and now I'll kill you and then that other bitch."
"No, you won't cut me, Marlin. It's too late. The cops are here. One of them shot your pa."
Marlin jerked up and brought down the knite.
"Sherlock, flatten!"
She pressed as hard as she could into the floor even as she heard the gun crack, loud in her ears. It was a very hard shot to make without hitting her in the process. Marlin had been so close to her, they'd had to hold off until they got a better angle. She felt Marlin jerk over her. She knocked him off her, sending him onto his back. The bullet had hit him in the back of the neck.
She rolled and came up on her elbows next to him. He was looking up at her. "Tell me how you did it."
"I left him a message. In my purse, in the floor of the shower. I wrote it in eyebrow pencil on the inside of my makeup bag." She looked up. "Dillon, keep everyone away. I've got to talk to him. Just for a moment."
She leaned right into Marlin's face. "Did you kill Belinda?"
He grinned up at her. Blood flowed from his nose and mouth. But he didn't look to be in any pain.
"Did you, Marlin? Did you kill Belinda?"
"Why should I tell you anything?"
"So I can judge which of you is the better man, Marlin, you or your daddy. I can't really know until you tell me about Belinda. Did you kill her?"
He looked away from her, upward, but the ceiling was dark, impenetrable. What was he looking at? "You want to know what she did, Marty?"
"What did she do?"
"She killed my kid. Oh yeah, she tried to tell me it was a miscarriage, but I know she killed the kid because she was scared it would be all crazy even before it was born. She told me about her pa being a loony. She told me she'd have to be nuts herself to have a kid that I fathered. That's why she killed my kid. She told me she wanted the kid, she didn't care if it was crazy, but then she went and she killed it."