The Night Shift(78)

“No, we’re fine,” Katie says. “I’ll be right in.”

Stevie looks torn. “You sure?” He pushes his shoulders back on his thin frame. He looks diminutive next to Dale’s broad-shouldered stance.

“Really.”

He reluctantly heads back to the store.

“I need to get back,” she says.

“I need you, Katie.”

“I’m sorry.”

Fury fills his face again. “If you think I’m just going to—”

A voice from behind cuts him off. Candy and Mandy have charged outside.

“What are you going to do, Dale?” Candy emphasizes his first name, like it’s forbidden. He’s a teacher, after all.

Dale turns white.

“Yeah,” Mandy chimes in, nodding, like: You’d better back the fuck off. It’s clear what they mean. They know everything and can ruin him.

Candy says, “So you’d best leave her the fuck alone.”

Steadman glowers at her. Then: “Or what?” His face is nearly trembling.

“Or your world will be tipped upside down.”

And with that, Candy laces her arm through Katie’s left arm, Mandy through Katie’s right, and they march her back inside the Blockbuster.





CHAPTER 71


KELLER





Keller’s hand is shaking, her breathing is labored and loud. She edges forward slowly in the darkness, her gun outstretched. The pain from the arrow shoots down her left side, and up into her skull, where it explodes in bursts. Wincing, she manages to pull her phone from her pocket, and clicks on the flashlight.

She has a jolt of terror when she sees him. Steadman is several feet away, as still as a stone. Waiting for her. He’s holding something. It looks like a spear. His arm is cocked. She staggers to the right as he releases the weapon, whatever it is. It glides swiftly by, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud.

Before she has time to react, something hard batters down on her arm, her gun discharges, then her head is pounded into the wall. She’s disoriented, on the floor. She sees nothing, she feels around for the gun.

That’s when she feels the body. It’s stiff. She wipes her eyes, tries to adjust to the dark, but it’s hopeless. Still, she feels the skinny tie, the buttons from the suit jacket.

Atticus.

Only terror overcomes the wave of heartbreak.

A sliver of light comes from her phone, which was knocked to the floor.

She’s on her side, shirt drenched in blood from the arrow. She’s going into shock. The twins seem unusually still.

She should’ve waited for backup. I’m sorry, she tells her twins. Move, please move, she tells them.

She feels nothing.

She can only listen now, pray for the sound of sirens.

Then she feels it. The familiar kick under her ribs. A tiny foot. Feet.

They’re telling her not to give up.

She calls out. “Dale Steadman, it’s over. They know about you and Katie McKenzie, about you and Hannah Sawyer.”

“I don’t think so,” the voice says, peculiarly calm. “I came home and Ella Monroe and her boyfriend were in my house. Everyone knows she’s a basket case. Your colleague arrived and they stabbed him.”

A ray of light from outside crosses his face. “You came to warn me.” He approaches her. He’s holding a hunting knife.

Dale Steadman is delusional. His story will never hold water. But it will be too late for Keller before he understands this.

As he leans over her, she closes her eyes.

But they pop open to the sound of a roar in the dark, a man’s voice, desperate and primal, and she sees a form fly across the room.

Steadman crashes to the floor.

She hears a struggle, furniture cracking, and somehow climbs to her feet, the pain nearly causing her to black out.

Headlights from a car outside fill the room. Chris Whitaker is on the floor with Steadman, bloody and battered and fighting for the knife. Before Keller can locate her gun, Chris wails in agony as the blade thrusts into his chest.

Steadman pushes him off and locks eyes with Keller. She’s nearly at the gun, but the room is moving sideways. She’s unsteady on her feet. She manages to scoop up the gun, her index finger sliding over the trigger. But a split second later, Steadman slams her against the wall, the pain blinding as the arrow touches the wall and pushes in deeper.

When Keller’s vision returns, she’s lost hold of the gun, and Steadman stands before her clasping a knife.

“It’s over,” he says, his dead eyes staring into hers.

But Keller isn’t listening to him. She reaches behind her and pulls out the arrow. Before Steadman’s mind can fathom what she’s up to, she rams the arrowhead upward into the soft triangle under his chin.

He gags and topples into her.

Keller tries to push him away, but can’t.

She can feel the blood gushing from her now. She feels faint.

Still pressed against her, Steadman is releasing a horrible gurgling sound. He lurches forward, puts his hands around her neck.

She’s trying to gasp for air but he’s squeezing too tight. She’s losing consciousness. But at once his body jerks, he releases his hold, and he crumples to the floor. Behind him, Ella still clutches the spear that is jutting from Steadman’s back until she too hits the floor.