Patterson, James - Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July

Flashlight beams.

Otherwise, the house was dark.

Clearly, people were inside who didn’t belong there. I slapped at the pockets of my denim jacket and got a sick feeling even before I knew that I was right: I’d left my cell phone on the table beside my bed. I could see it lying against the clock.

This was very bad news.

I had no car radio, no backup, and I wasn’t wearing a vest. If a crime was in progress, going into that house alone wasn’t a real good idea.

“Ali,” I said. “I have to go for help.”

“You can’t, Lindsay,” she said, her voice coming out as a whisper. “Everyone will die.”

I reached around and touched her face with my hand. Ali’s mouth was turned down, the trust in her eyes was heartbreaking.

“Lie down on the backseat,” I said to the little girl. “Wait for me and don’t move until I come back.”

Ali got down with her face against the seat. I put my hand on her back, patting her gently. Then I got out of the car and shut the door behind me.

Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July

Chapter 138

BRIGHT MOONLIGHT FLOODED THE hilly terrain, casting long shadows that fooled the eye into believing chasms were opening up underfoot. I stuck to the brush at the side of the road, rounding the clearing until I arrived at the blind side of the house on higher ground.

An upscale SUV was parked beside the house next to a plain wooden doorway. The doorknob turned easily in my hand, and the door swung open into a mudroom.

I groped my way in the dark, advanced into a spacious kitchen. From there, I entered a high-ceilinged great room, luminous with moon glow.

I kept to the walls, skirting the long leather sofas and large pots of palms and pampas grass. I looked up in time to see a flashlight beam disappear at the top of a staircase.

I drew my gun and loped up the carpeted staircase, taking two steps at a time, crouching at the top landing.

I listened over the sound of my own breathing and heard soft murmurs coming from the room at the end of the hall.

Then a high-pitched scream shattered the air. I ran to a doorway, turned the knob, kicked open the door.

I strafed the scene with my eyes. There was a king-size bed, a woman sitting with her back against the headboard. A figure dressed in black held a knife to the woman’s throat.

“Hands in the air,” I yelled. “Drop the knife now!”

“It’s too late,” said a voice. “Just turn around and get the hell out of here.”

I reached for the wall switch and flicked on the light.

What I saw was shocking, horrifying, unbelievable.

The intruder with the knife was Carolee Brown.

Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July

Chapter 139

CAROLEE WAS ABOUT TO commit murder. My brain stalled as I tried to assimilate the unimaginable. When it kicked back into gear, I acted, barking out a command at the top of my voice.

“Back away from her, Carolee. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“Lindsay,” she said in a maddeningly reasonable tone. “I’m asking you to please go. She’s a dead woman no matter what. You can’t stop me.”

“Last chance,” I said, pulling back the hammer. “Put that knife down or I’m going to kill you.”

The woman in the bed whimpered as Carolee measured the distance between us with her eyes and calculated how long it would take to slash the woman’s throat before I put a bullet through her brain.

I was making the same calculations.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” Carolee said with regret. “I’m the good guy, Lindsay. This thing you see here, this Melissa Farley, is complete trash.”

“Toss the knife over here very carefully,” I said, grasping my Glock so hard that my knuckles were white. Could I shoot Carolee if I had to? I really didn’t know.

“You aren’t going to shoot me,” she said then.

“I think you’ve forgotten who I am.”

Carolee started to speak again, but the resolve gripping my face stopped her. I would shoot her, and she was smart enough to get it. She smiled wanly. Then she tossed the knife underhand onto the carpet at our feet.

I kicked the knife under a bureau, then I ordered Carolee to the floor.

“On your knees!” I shouted. “Hands in front of you!”

I took her down to the ground, told her to lace her hands behind her neck and cross her ankles, frisked her, and found nothing but a thin leather belt around her waist.

Then I darted my eyes to the woman on the bed.

“Melissa? Are you okay? Call nine-one-one. Tell them that a violent crime is in progress and a cop needs assistance.”

The woman reached for the bedside phone even as she kept her eyes on me.

“He’s got my husband,” she said. “A man is in the bathroom with Ed.”

Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July

Chapter 140

I FOLLOWED MELISSA FARLEY’S gaze across the shadows to the door to the left of the bed.

The door opened slowly, and a male walked stiffly into the bedroom, his eyes wild behind blood-speckled glasses.

I noticed everything as the man came toward me: black T-shirt soaked with blood; belt, stripped from his pants, dangling by its silver buckle from his left hand; ugly hunting knife clutched in his right.

My mind raced ahead, thinking not where the knife was now, but where it would be next.

“Drop your weapon!” I screamed at him. “Do it now or I’ll shoot.”

The man’s mouth formed a grim smile, the chilling look of someone who is ready to die. He continued coming toward me, pointing the bloody knife.

My vision narrowed so that I could concentrate on what seemed necessary to my survival. There was too much to focus on, too much to control.

Carolee was behind me, unsecured.

The man with the knife knew it, too. His lip curled back.

He said, “G-g-get up! We can take her.”

I calculated what would happen if I shot him. He was less than ten feet away.

Even if I got him square in the chest, even if I stopped his heart, the closing range was short.

He was still coming.

I leveled my gun, fingered the trigger, and then Melissa Farley scrambled across the bed, launching herself toward the bathroom.

“No,” I yelled out. “Stay where you are.”

“I have to go to my husband!”

I never heard the door open behind me.

I never heard someone else enter the room.

But suddenly she was there.

“Bobby, don’t!” Allison screamed.

And for one long second, everything stood still.

Womans Murder Club 4 - 4th of July

Chapter 141

THE MAN ALLISON CALLED Bobby froze. He steadied himself, and I watched his face seize with confusion.

“Allison,” he said, “you’re supposed to be home.”

Bobby! The stutter hadn’t cued me, but now I recognized his face. It was Bob Hinton, the lawyer from town who’d run into me with his bike. I didn’t have time to figure out exactly how he fit into this picture.

Allison drifted from behind me as if she were in a dream. She walked over to Bob Hinton and put her arms around his waist. I wanted to stop her, but before I could, Hinton reached his arms around her and held Allison tightly.

“Little sister,” he whispered, “you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t see this.”

My blood pressure dropped, and the sweat on my hands made the gun’s trigger slippery. I continued to gauge my shot at Hinton.

I jockeyed for a better angle, and Hinton turned the dazed little girl toward me. I could see that he was dazed himself.

“Bob,” I said, putting my heart into it. I wanted him to believe me. “It’s your choice. But I’ll blow your head off if you don’t drop that knife and get right down on your knees.”