Annie knew who was outside. She just almost felt Turner’s presence. Carl had stopped talking, stopped protesting. She knew he was bleeding out, right there on the floor.
She didn’t know if she’d be able to help him, even if Councilman Arnold let her go.
He wasn’t exactly insane; not like she’d imagined Wallace Henedy had to have been when he shot Izzie. There just wasn’t exactly anything normal about him.
He was…cold. Like it was all a game to him. Izzie had told her that Wallace had rambled the whole time he’d had her and Nikkie Jean hostage.
Not like Councilman Arnold.
When the first sound of the doorbell had interrupted him standing over her with the gun, he’d yanked her closer. Then started dragging her from the den.
Toward what had to be a basement.
Most houses in Texas didn’t include basements. It was too hard to blast through the limestone, if the floodplain even allowed it.
Would Turner even think to search for her in the basement?
“Just let me go. Run. You know Turner will find Carl. Carl will tell Turner who shot him. The TSP will catch you. Jake MacNamara and Daniel McKellen and Elliot Marshall are friends of mine, friends of Turner’s. They will stop you.” Annie grabbed the handrail when he started down the first step.
He was going to have to yank her down the stairs if he wanted her in that basement.
Annie wasn’t about to make any of this easy for him. She also wasn’t going to just wait around for someone else to rescue her either.
Annie was just going to get through.
And then she was going to grab her man and have the life she wanted. Deserved.
Her, Turner, and the three little boys she loved so much.
Some deranged city councilman wasn’t going to stop that from happening. She was tired of someone else trying to control her life. Not anymore.
The man could shoot her, but that meant he’d be giving his position away. No doubt he wanted to escape detection more than he wanted her dead.
She was going to slow him down as much as possible.
Turner wouldn’t have come alone. Not with the ambush damaging his Lincoln. Turner was up there, with at least one other person. That would mean help. And that help was most likely TSP. “Turner’s coming for me!”
“Turner’s dead. I had Eugent take care of him already. Heard on the radio, the mayor was listed as DOA while you were cozying up to Carl.” He yanked her hand free from the rail. Annie wrapped the other arm around the top step, ignoring how the carpet stapled to it abraded her inner elbow. She could deal with carpet burn. But she was not going down those stairs. “Get moving, or I’ll shoot you right here.”
“They lied on the radio. Probably Elliot Marshall’s idea. We walked away tonight. I was there with them. It’s how I got this bruise and bandage. Officer Eugent was killed. Turner killed him. Slammed his head into a pile of rocks when Eugent tried to shoot us.”
Annie could only call his bluff. What else was she supposed to do? She had no clue what he intended if he got her to that basement level. Unless there was another door to the outside.
Did he honestly think he was going to be able to hide in Carl’s basement?
She wasn’t going to let him drag her down the stairs. Annie pulled her head back as far away from him and screamed. She kept screaming, even when his open hand slammed across her face.
His hand came at her again, attempting to cover her mouth.
Annie sank her teeth deep into the flesh of his hand.
He yelled and swore, and struck toward her again.
But Annie had cut her teeth avoiding a man’s fist. Dennis Lee Arnold was twenty pounds lighter than she was and only a handful of inches taller.
And she was thirty-five years younger and a whole lot more determined to survive.
As soon as he pulled closer, ready to yank her from the floor, Annie acted.
Using a trick Jake had taught her and Izzie when they were teenagers ready to go on their first dates, Annie slammed her foot into his stomach as hard as she could. She screamed again, yelling Turner’s name.
Then she kicked him one more time. Right between the legs. Her heel connected with his penis, and he jerked back.
He bent over double, his finger squeezing the trigger on the gun.
The echo nearly deafened her, though it was just a .38.
The bullet missed, sending shards from the concrete wall ricocheting everywhere. One sliced through her arm. Another embedded in her leg.
Annie didn’t stop.
She kicked one more time, and sent the man tumbling down the wooden stairs to Carl Buchanan’s basement floor.
The bellow he made abruptly ended when he landed.
Annie just looked at him for a fraction of a second.
She jumped to her feet and ran.