“Well, I think of murder to be a bit messier. A knife in the gut or a gunshot wound. I did say in the normal sense…”
“How the hell did you get out of the academy?!” roared DiNolfo.
“Well…” Amos began.
DiNolfo began shaking her head wildly from side to side, a strained look on her face. “It was a rhetorical question. Tell me something else… what did he give you?”
“He’s been paying us one-thousand dollars a month each to keep our mouths shut.”
“Where’s he getting two G a month on a teacher’s salary?”
Amos shrugged his shoulders. DiNolfo raised her eyebrow at Earl, wondering if he would have anything to contribute to the conversation. He sniffed once loudly, before looking to the ground. Earl wasn’t in the mood for talking.
Amos added, “From what I hear, he’s a pretty successful gambler. It’s definitely not an inheritance. His mother didn’t have a dime to her name. Just the house. His biological father comes from money, but he’s been holed up in Pennington Prison for years.”
Just as they were finishing up, Officers Deacon and Pavil walked in and DiNolfo had them read the now-former deputies their rights as they cuffed them and hauled them off to a county holding cell where they would await their trial.
Meanwhile, Joe Piedmonte was standing out by his car, clapping as the two deputies were carted off in a patrol car. Sergeant DiNolfo smirked as she approached him.
“So, are you busy tonight?” she said, with a coy smile.
“No, my date ditched me in the middle of dinner to arrest some corrupt cops.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere but here.”
Part Three
The Final Betrayal
Chapter Eighteen
He’s Coming
October 9, 1997
Fox Hollow, Pennsylvania
Nightfall
“The time for games is over, Catherine!” said Bernard Kendricks as he stared through a pair of black binoculars, setting his sights on the Morrow Manor. Lying on the damp ground, Kendricks followed Tristan’s movements through the house. The sun had gone down hours ago, and in the darkness of the meadow, Bernard Kendricks took satisfaction knowing that no one knew he was there.
“I love the hunt, the thrill of the chase, but I’m growing tired of this charade. My patience is being tested, and I know how much you hate my temper, but I can feel it rising, furious and violent. It is time to go, time to start our life. You’ll have no choice but to come this time, once all the distractions are removed.”
Tristan was pacing now. Her nerves were a live wire. She was planning her next move.
He loved this part of the game. When he didn’t quite know what to expect, but he knew he would win. He had always won before. With Catherine, with Patrice Daly, even with Allison Finkle, and her father from Ohio. He lived for the thrill, and it was upon him. There was a shock of electricity in the air. He could feel it, and it made him feel alive. With each passing moment, Bernard Kendricks felt the allure grow stronger. With each calculated movement, Tristan was heightening her hunter’s desires. He had no longer hungered solely for her flesh. He was bloodthirsty, and he couldn’t suppress it any longer. As Tristan Morrow wandered nervously throughout the house, Bernard Kendricks stored his binoculars away as his worn hunting boots started to trudge silently across the land towards the manor house.
*
“No, stop it, I’m fine,” insisted Tristan as she batted away an alcohol-soaked cotton ball that was treating her wounds.
“You’re not fine!” Bridgette said, as she continued to treat her niece’s many wounds, “Sit down!” Tristan’s mind was racing, beating hard in her skull. She watched as Frank put his rifle back in the gun cabinet. “Don’t put that away!” she urged him.
Frank, eyeing his niece from the opposite end of the dining room, gave her a worried glance. “Tristan, please try to relax. We have an eye on the situation. The house is locked up. If I see any movement I will be out there shooting.”
“He’s already out there, and he’s not going to wait for you to shoot first. He’s waiting for an opportunity to strike.” Bridgette eyed her niece warily. Tristan needed to rest. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep since she went missing, and it didn’t seem like sleep would be in the cards for her tonight either. What did Tristan say again, “She couldn’t rest until she knew she wasn’t being hunted anymore?” So relieved to have her home, Bridgette just wanted her to relax now, but it was so hard with Kendricks still out there somewhere.
Hunted. I could definitely see why she would use that particular word.