Steve Gannon - Kane

“Raise your hands and step back,” Carns ordered.

Allison kept cutting. An instant later Travis was free.

Carns snarled in frustration, undoubtedly wishing he had waited till later to bind his pistol so irreversibly to me.

All at once I sensed movement behind us.

Carns turned, pulling me with him.

Catheryn stepped from behind the bedroom door, arms extended in a two-handed shooting stance I’d taught her years back. She held the. 38-caliber revolver that Carns had taken from me earlier. I smiled grimly, realizing Allison must have picked it up while I was being beaten. Carns was making mistakes.

“Drop it,” Carns ordered, twisting his automatic against my temple.

“Don’t do it, Kate,” I warned. “Shoot him. Now.”

Catheryn hesitated.

Carns was far too dangerous to let this standoff go on any longer. “Shoot him,” I repeated, hoping Catheryn didn’t realize what that would mean for me. “Do it now.”

“Drop the gun or I’ll kill him,” Carns ordered again. “You’ve got five seconds to-” He hesitated as Nate moved into view from behind his mother, tatters of plastic trash bag and duct tape still circling his neck.

“Kate, either shoot him or take the kids and get out,” I croaked.

“Nobody’s leaving,” said Carns, still staring at Nate in shock.

Travis was moving forward, holding a length of pipe. Allison had begun circling in from the other side. She still held the knife from the kitchen.

“Stay back,” Carns warned. “If you don’t I’ll kill him right now.”

Still gripping my holdout gun tightly in both hands, Catheryn took a step closer. “It’ll be the last thing you ever do,” she said.

“Travis, get your sister and brother out of here,” I said. “That’s an order.”

Catheryn took another step forward. “Do it, Travis,” she said, a quaver in her voice betraying her fear.

“I’m not leaving,” said Travis.

“Me, neither,” said Allison, still sliding to the left, edging behind Carns.

“Go,” I pleaded. “Trav, Ali, I know what you’re trying to prove. Now’s not the time. There’s nothing you can do. Just go.”

Nate moved to Catheryn’s side, completing the circle around Carns

… and me.

“Nate,” I begged. “Get out of here, son. Please.”

Nate shook his head.

“Kate…”

“Not without you,” said Catheryn, her gun still trained unwaveringly on Carns.

“I told you, nobody’s leaving,” said Carns, attempting to regain control. “Not until I say. And when we do leave, we’re all leaving together. One big happy family. Somebody get me the phone.”

No one moved.

“They won’t let you out with civilian hostages,” I repeated. “A sharpshooter will drop you before you’ve gone ten feet.”

“Go to hell, cop. If I go, you’re dead, too.”

“I know you, Carns. You don’t want to die.”

“Shut up!”

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I rushed on, seeing a way out. “You haven’t killed anyone here tonight, and we don’t have one piece of hard evidence tying you to the candlelight murders. We won’t find any, either. Anything that might have existed went up your chimney this afternoon.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’ll never get you on your recent murders. We’ve got nothing. Van Owen won’t be able to finger you either, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out,” I continued. “I lifted prints from your house, but none of them matches the crime scenes. We have a couple of hairs, a shoe print, some distorted bite marks. Nothing conclusive. Not enough to convict.”

“You were in my house?”

“That’s right. I visited your souvenir room, too,” I answered. “Without a search warrant, which is something you can use in the unlikely event things ever come to that. The point is, all we have on you is what happened here tonight. Breaking and entering, assault, and taking a potshot at that deputy on the beach. With the psychological escape hatch you’ve set up for yourself, a good lawyer will have you out in no time.”

Carns stared incredulously. “You know about that?”

“Yeah. And I checked with a shrink. He says that with the right jury, an insanity defense will probably hold up.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Catheryn.

Before I could answer, a whump sounded on the beach. And another. Then the thump of something landing on the roof and the crash of breaking glass downstairs.

Carns tightened his grip on the pistol. “What was that?”

“Tear gas,” I said. “Looks like the guy on the bullhorn got tired of talking to himself. Time to cut your losses, Carns.”

A sheen of perspiration glistened on Carns’s face. “Shut up,” he hissed. “I need to think.”

“He can get away with what he did?” whispered Catheryn, her eyes never leaving Carns. “All those families…”

“Oh, he’ll get away with it,” I answered. “Years back he gulled a few doctors into believing he’s a paranoid schizophrenic. With a prior medical history and the attorneys he can afford, the worst he’s likely to get for tonight’s foray is a little vacation time in some country club psych ward.”

I knew that Catheryn realized I was bartering for our lives, twisting facts to suit my purpose. But I could also tell she knew there was an element of truth to everything I’d said.

Seconds passed. The first whiffs of tear gas started seeping up from below.

“What’s it going to be, Carns?” I asked.

“I told you to shut up!” Carns shouted, his eyes wild now, trapped, sweat ringing his armpits. The smell of gas grew stronger, along with a hint of something worse.

Smoke.

I had seen teargas canisters touch off blazes more than once during my career. I knew we didn’t have much time. “It’s a simple choice, Carns,” I said. “A police bullet, or a nice cushy stay at a psychiatric facility. Play it smart and walk out of here. You have about ten seconds to decide.”

Carns vacillated a moment longer. By then, mixing with the gas from below, tendrils of oily black smoke had started seeping into the room. Abruptly coming to a decision, Carns began ripping at the tape binding his hand to the gun. “You’re right,” he said, a grin splitting his face like a knife. “They’ll never convict me. Not in a million years.”

Carns stepped back, leaving the. 25 automatic still dangling from my head. “They have new techniques for treating the mentally ill nowadays,” he added with a smirk. “I could be better before you know it. And when I get out-”

Carns caught himself, but not in time. I knew what he’d been thinking. I saw something change in Catheryn’s expression, and I knew she had read his venomous thoughts as well, as clearly as if he’d spoken them aloud. And when I get out, his malignant eyes had glittered, maybe I’ll come visit sometime.

“That’s not going to happen,” Catheryn said softly.

I saw it rising in her and knew it for what it was. Carns did, too. “No!” he screamed, shoving me toward Catheryn and lunging for her gun.

My injured leg buckled. I went down hard at Catheryn’s feet. Carns rushed in behind. The pistol bucked in Catheryn’s hands. A deafening explosion rocked the room as an orange fireball spat from the muzzle, lighting the chamber in a searing flash. The. 38-caliber slug caught Carns high on his left shoulder, sending a spray of blood against the far wall.

With a howl Carns staggered back, staring uncomprehendingly at the red bloom staining his shirt. He turned again toward Catheryn, eyes blazing with malevolence. Then with a motion nearly too fast to follow, he backhanded Allison and snatched the knife from her grasp.

Catheryn fired again as Allison fell, blood gushing from her nose. Catheryn’s second shot went high, grazing Carns’s scalp and splintering the wood paneling behind his head. Knife held low, Carns dodged and with blinding speed rushed forward, clearly intending to gut Catheryn where she stood.