“We’ve got the other disks, too. The ones we found at Long’s place.”
“Just when I was starting to think you’re smart, you blow it by saying something stupid.” He shakes his head, feigning pity. “There’s nothing incriminating on any of those disks. Just that little bitch getting what she wanted. Who do you think planted them, for fuck sake?”
Now it’s my turn to smile. “You screwed up. We’ve got you dead to rights on one of the disks.” I need to buy some time, keep him talking, thinking.
Next to Barbereaux, Warner coughs up a spray of blood. “For God’s sake . . . get me to the hospital. Fuckin’ dying . . .”
Barbereaux steps quickly away from the other man, casts me an irritated look. “Bullshit, I went through every disk.”
“You willing to stake your life on that?” I shrug, let the statement hang. When he says nothing, I add, “Technology is an amazing thing. You’d be surprised by the information those techies can pull off a disk these days. That scar on your hand?”
He glances quickly down, then back at me. The look he gives me is so utterly devoid of emotion that it’s like looking into the eyes of a corpse. I sense he’s going to raise the shotgun and kill me. The urge to appeal to his compassion is overwhelming, but I know it would be futile. He’s a sociopath, incapable of feeling remorse. My heart pounds so loudly, I can no longer hear the storm. Keep him talking . . .
“How could you do that to those two girls?” I ask.
“It’s a sick world out there. It was all about the money. The snuff flick went to the highest bidder.” He says the words as if he’s talking about negotiating the sale of a used car instead of the final minutes of life for two innocent girls. “Some people get off on the whole death thing.”
His mouth twists into a terrible grin. “If we had more time, I’d like to get some vid of you in those clothes. A lot of men out there dig the Amish shit. I bet you’ve got a tight little snatch.”
He’s looking at me the way a wolf looks at a rabbit it’s about to devour. In the back of my mind I wonder if T.J. saw them approach the house or if the rain obscured them. Staring at Barbereaux, I’m keenly aware of the .22 pressing against my thigh. The lapel mike of my radio just a second away. I know he’ll gun me down before I can reach either.
I scramble for a way to keep him talking. “We know you killed Long, too.”
“That motherfucker died of stupidity.” Mild amusement drifts across his expression. “Lethal dose.”
“There’s still time for you to run.”
“I don’t think so.” He raises the shotgun.
Terror paralyzes me. I can’t breathe, can barely think. “If you kill me, they’ll hunt you down. They won’t stop until they find you.”
“I’m not going to kill you.” He glances at Warner and whispers, “He is.”
I look at Warner. His face is the color of paste and slick with sweat. His glazed eyes find mine. “You’re about to become another Todd Long,” I tell him.
Warner opens his mouth to speak, but no words come.
Barbereaux’s finger tightens on the trigger. Out of time, I think. Panic spreads through me like a wildfire burning hot and out of control. I launch myself at him. My palms hit the barrel hard, shove it up. The muzzle explodes. The concussion hits me in the face like a punch. Plaster rains down. Barbereaux steps back, brings down the muzzle, takes aim. All I can think is that I’m too far away to stop him.
As if in slow motion, I see the muzzle flash. Thunder explodes. The next thing I know I’m flying backward into space. My chest feels as if it’s been caved in by an axe. I can’t breathe. I can’t see. A scream sounds in my head, and then the night rushes in and yanks me down into the abyss.
CHAPTER 28
Tomasetti hit one hundred miles per hour on Highway 62 just out of Brinkhaven. He knew it wouldn’t look good if some local yokel stopped him. He wasn’t in the best mental state, thanks to Kate. That wasn’t to mention the booze he’d sucked down earlier. He wasn’t sure what his blood alcohol level might be, but it was probably over the limit. He had his badge to back him up, but with some cops that only went so far.