214 Palmer Street(59)
“Put the gun down,” Kirk said. “Nobody needs to get hurt.”
Sarah took his arm, trying to hold him back. She gestured behind where they stood. “He killed Clarice.”
Kirk glanced backward and his face registered shock. Clarice lay sprawled on the ground, one arm over her head, her legs bent, her body illuminated by the flashlight that had been knocked out of Sarah’s hand when she fell. “Oh, no,” he said. He turned back to Gavin. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I’m surprised you care after she hit your wife in the head with a rock. I’d have thought you’d be happy about it.”
“Clarice was the one who attacked me?” Sarah asked in disbelief. Her mind reeled. She knew Clarice had her faults, but she’d never seen her as a violent person.
“Yeah, she attacked you. Does that surprise you? She killed Jeremy too. Our friend Clarice was full of tricks.”
“No,” Sarah said, incredulity in her voice. “Clarice?” She looked to Kirk, who gave a slight nod of affirmation. She felt a rush of relief of knowing her husband wasn’t a killer but the feeling was only momentary. The reality of a gun being pointed in their direction overrode everything else.
Kirk held up his hands and said, “Gavin, put the gun down. You and I, we go way back. We’ve been friends forever. I know you don’t want to do this.”
“You’re right, I don’t—but your wife started it and now I’m going to finish it.”
“Gavin, please,” Sarah said.
“Please what?” he said, his voice harsh. “You have a lot of nerve asking me for anything. You’re nothing but a loose end.”
To Sarah he no longer sounded like the Gavin who’d had them over for dinner, telling jokes, complimenting his wife’s cooking, and showing them around his man cave. Instead, he sounded completely callous, as if someone had stripped away his humanity leaving a cold-blooded doppelganger in his stead.
She said, “Let’s talk this through. I’m sure we can all walk out of here with an understanding. No one else has to die.” Even to her the words sounded strained, like dialogue borrowed from a crime show.
Gavin said, “Kirk, take three steps to your right.” He gestured with the gun. “Sarah, kneel on the ground.” When they hesitated, he yelled, “Do it! Right now!”
Her heart racing, she knelt on the ground, watching as her husband stepped to one side. In the matter of a few seconds a flurry of thoughts went through her brain. Gavin was right about one thing: she had started this and her curiosity was going to get them killed. The bomb shelter would be their tomb and if and when their bodies were discovered, Gavin would make it look like a murder suicide. Or else he’d torch the place, leaving little forensic evidence behind. No one would ever suspect the chief of police.
And even if she screamed, there was no one around to hear her. She’d ensured that by sending Maggie Scott away.
She wondered if it made sense for her to make a break for it, to take Gavin by surprise, pushing past him and dashing up the stairs out of the shelter. She pictured her backpack with the cell phone in the front pocket and mentally calculated how many steps between the shelter and the porch. How long would it take to call for help? With a sinking heart she realized the metrics didn’t work. She was tired from digging and unlikely to get by Gavin. And even if she could get away, he would shoot Kirk in the meantime.
And it would be all her fault.
With every beat of her heart, Sarah wished she could undo this. Go back in time and let the past stay in the past. Accept her husband for the good man she knew him to be. Suppress her nagging doubts and move forward with her life.
If only she could.
She didn’t want to die, not in this hole in the ground next to a dead woman. And she didn’t want Kirk to die, especially now that she knew the truth.
If only there was a way out.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Kirk saw the crazed look in Gavin’s eyes and knew this was not going to end well. There was no chance of both of them getting away, but he’d gladly die in this pit if it meant Sarah could make it to safety. He gave her a sideways glance and tilted his head toward the bomb shelter’s opening, hoping she’d take the hint. After she’d made her move, he planned to charge at Gavin, hopefully catching him off guard and giving her enough time to escape.
“Gavin,” he said evenly. “There’s already been too much death. Clarice was a problem, but she’s gone now. We can make different choices. Better choices.”
His mind flashed back to that evening. It began with a phone call from Jeremy asking if he could spend the night in the bomb shelter. Jeremy had said, “My dad went ballistic. I need to get out of here.” Kirk didn’t need to hear any more. He knew what that meant.
Jeremy was embarrassed, so Kirk didn’t tell his parents that his friend was going to be staying overnight. Instead, the two guys met in the Adens’ backyard and headed straight to the bomb shelter. Jeremy went down the stairs first, with Kirk right on his heels. Both were startled to stumble upon Clarice and Gavin, who’d clearly been interrupted in the middle of something intimate.
“Hey, guys.” Gavin apparently decided to play it cool. “Sorry about the mess. We weren’t expecting company.” He picked his T-shirt up from the plywood floor and pulled it over his head.