Nothing but the patter of rain.
“Or was it you? Did you hunt Kim down and kill her?”
“I would never hurt Kim.”
“Where is she?”
“I loved her.” A statement about feeling, devoid of feeling.
“Where is she?” Cold.
She might have answered. But in that splinter of silence, Mary Louise whimpered, a sound like the mewing of a kitten.
“Let the child come to me.”
“No.”
“Now.” Diamond-hard.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I love her, too.”
“You don’t know her.”
“She won’t endure what we did. What Kim did.”
“Where is Kim?”
“She died.” Flat.
“In the cellar?”
Again, no answer.
“Did you kill Anique Pomerleau?”
“I loved her.”
“She tortured you.”
Her eyes held, unblinking, wormholes into evil. Or madness. But her jaw slackened as she withdrew into her mind.
Several beats passed.
Sensing an altered vibe, Mary Louise raised her knees and planted her heels.
McGee placed a restraining hand on her head. “Stop. You’ll get muddy.”
“Let me go.” Half pleading, half defiant.
“Soon.”
“I don’t like you. I want to go home.”
“Down.” With gentle pressure.
As Mary Louise lay back, a small ragged sob floated on the night.
At the sound, McGee tensed and looked down at the thing in her hand. For a moment my heart stopped beating. Was she holding a weapon? A gun?
I imagined my blade piercing her flesh. Her bone. Crushing through honeycombed marrow. The black cavity filling with blood. I didn’t want to stab this woman. But I would. Dear God, I would.
McGee had escalated beyond her previous pattern. Perhaps due to pressure from Slidell. Maybe Ajax. The trigger didn’t matter. The fact was, she was spinning out of control.
If armed, would she shoot the person closest to her? The one spoiling her game? Could I act quickly enough? Overcome her before she hurt Mary Louise?
The hollow stare. The disembodied voice. I feared the slightest thing would cause her to snap. Better to stall. To wait for Hull.
Unless McGee made a move.
Unless.
“You’re a healer, Tawny. Not a killer.”
“I’m a freak.”
“No. You’re not.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve spoken with Dr. Lindahl.”
“She’s useless.”
“I’ve talked to your mother.”
“My mother.” Whip-crack sharp. “The bitch who never searched for me? The bitch who just moved away to start over?”
“She did search.” Emptying my voice of all emotion.
“Not hard enough to find me.”
“She—”
“Shut the fuck up about my mother!” The first note of hysteria.
Fast change of tack.
“You helped the girls.” I said the names slowly, a mantra meant to calm. “Nellie. Lizzie. Tia. Shelly. You made them pretty. Made sure they wouldn’t suffer.”
“No one should hurt.” Barely a whisper. “No one should die in the dark.”
She was like a raft on white water. Lurching and spinning, wildly unstable.
As I groped for the right things to say, my eyes caught a glint in the shadows at two o’clock.
A bat or a bird? Imagined? I couldn’t tell. It was there, then gone.
“The child’s name is Mary Louise.” Trying to personalize.
No response.
“Why have you brought Mary Louise to this place?”
“For you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You took me out.”
“Of the cellar.”
“You said I wasn’t just a creature in a cage.” McGee dropped to her knees and pressed the object that she was clutching to her chest. With her free hand, she stroked Mary Louise’s hair. “She will never be a creature in a cage.”
I could see two tiny white crescents in the dark recesses above Mary Louise’s nose. Knew her eyes were open and wide with fear.
My fingers tightened on the knife. I would do it. I would.
“Where will you put her?” Skimming one foot over the grass. Inching the other forward to meet it.
“Here. In the sun.”