BEN TOOK CHRISTINA’S HAND and let her lead him out of me bedroom and downstairs. He didn’t want to go; it seemed like one more betrayal, one more desertion. But he also knew the room was now a crime scene, and disturbing it wouldn’t help anyone.
“I repeat,” Christina said, as they walked downstairs, “it wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could.”
“It wasn’t enough,” he replied bitterly. “It never is.”
“What difference would it have made if you were here? I’ll tell you—the only difference would have been that your corpse would be strewn on the floor, too.”
“Maybe it should be.”
“You had your shot at him, Ben, and he flung you around like a rag doll. If you and Mike couldn’t take this butcher, there’s no way you and Trixie could have. The only one who was deprived by your absence was the killer.”
She turned to face him. “Ben, you need to be careful. This killer, whoever he is, is a desperate man, or a raving lunatic, or both. He may have seen you. He may know who you are.”
“He does,” Ben said flatly. “He’s been in my apartment. Tore it upside down. Scared poor Giselle out of three of her lives.” He touched Christina’s arm. “And if he knows about me, he may know about you, too.”
“Ben, I think we should both consider hiring some protection. Professionals.”
“For this maniac, we’d better hire a frigging battalion.”
“Where am I? Where is he?”
They both heard the weak but familiar voice from the landing at the top of the stairs. “Mike!”
Ben bounded up the stairs, Christina close behind.
Mike was still lying in the hallway, his head raised onto a pillow. One of the paramedics was monitoring his vital signs.
Mike focused on Ben’s face and frowned. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be guarding the kitchen door.”
“Go to hell,” Ben replied.
“A fine way to talk, you AWOL ass.” Mike smacked his lips. “I’m parched. Can you get me something to drink?”
The paramedic shook his head. “Sorry. We have to avoid any chance of you aspirating on your own vomit. Besides, with a head wound, you may require surgery.”
“Do you think it’s a skull fracture?” Ben asked.
“That’s a nasty burst laceration on his forehead, but I don’t think it’s too profound. Head wounds always bleed a lot. Still, we need to check for hematoma and contra coup injury.”
“Would you two stop talking about me like I wasn’t here!” Mike growled.
“Judging by his rude tongue,” Ben said, “it appears he has regained consciousness.”
“True. But he still may have sustained injuries. We’re going to take him to the hospital as soon as he’s stabilized a bit.”
“I see.” A line creased Ben’s brow. Something was bothering him. But what was it?
“I take it the son of a bitch with the strangulation cord got away,” Mike whispered.
“I’m afraid so,” Ben replied. “If it makes you feel any better, I managed to hurt him before he escaped, though not nearly as much as he hurt me.”
“Maybe these goddamn medics should be bothering you instead of me. Give me some air.” Mike tried to push himself up.
“Just stay where you are,” the paramedic said. “Try to relax.”
“I don’t want to relax, damn it! I’m fine.”
“That remains to be seen. In the meantime, I want you to stay calm.”
Mike grimaced. “Bully.”
“That’s it!” Ben snapped his fingers. “That’s the answer.”
Mike and Christina stared back at him. “What are you talking about?”
Ben didn’t hear them. He was busy thinking it through. Now that he realized what he had missed before, everything else seemed to fall into place.
“Can you guys take care of Mike from here?”
The paramedics nodded.
“Okay. I’ve got to leave.”
“Now just a cotton-pickin’ minute.” Mike braced himself with his arms. “What’s going on? What’s all this sudden urgency?”
“I know who the killer is,” Ben said. “And I think I know how to prove it, too.”
“Well then stop being so damned mysterious and tell us!”
“You need to go to the hospital. I’ll check in with you when I’m finished.”
“Where are you going?”
“Believe it or not—the High Course at Camp Sequoyah.”
Mike and Christina yelled at him, but he ignored them both. He flew down the stairs and out to his car. If he was right, he didn’t have any time to spare. His chance to nail the person who had committed all these murders had finally arrived. All he had to do was something that made his entire body quiver just thinking about it, something that instantaneously filled him with dread.
And not get killed in the meantime.