Pepperdyne began to laugh. It was inappropriate, he knew, but he couldn't help it. "Miss Robb, the Bureau could use a couple thousand of you."
She didn't share his mirth. Again she was gnawing her lip in misery. "Not me, Pepperdyne. I'm afraid I didn't safeguard the secret any better than I did my virginity."
He sobered instantly. "What secret?"
"I think these look-alike assholes have something to do with the Burnwood matter."
"How so?"
"They were at my house asking for directions moments before I went in and discovered the break-in."
"And you didn't mention them to me?"
"I didn't link the two. And stop yelling at me. My head hurts."
"Last night, did they ask you about Mrs. Burnwood's whereabouts?"
"I'm still a little groggy, and the details are unclear, but I think they got me drunk so they could get information out of me. Maybe you should have tried that, Pepperdyne. Instead of relying strictly on your charm," she added caustically.
"Did they speak with anyone else? Make any phone calls?"
"No. Not that I saw, anyway."
"What did you tell them, Ricki Sue? I must know."
"Not so fast. If you find her, do you intend to put her in jail?"
"That won't be up to me."
Ricki Sue folded her arms over her midriff and assumed a stubborn posture. Pepperdyne gnawed on his inner cheek, thinking it over. "I'll do what I can for her."
"Not good enough, Pepperdyne. I don't want my friend locked away for trying to save her own skin."
"Okay, I'll do everything I can to strike a deal for her. That's all I can promise, and that's contingent on the condition John is in when we find him."
She assessed him for a moment, then said, "If she gets hurt, or the baby is harmed"
"That's precisely what I'm trying to prevent. Their lives are my primary concern. Please. Talk to me, Ricki Sue."
"It'll cost you."
"Anything."
"Dinner and dancing?"
"You and me?"
"No, Fred and Ginger," she said, giving him a withering look.
He bobbed his head. "Agreed. Now talk.
Chapter 39
Two men ushered Kendall back into the kitchen from which she had fled seconds earlier.
Matt snatched Kevin from her. Gibb gave the center of her back a hard shove that knocked her down. She practically fell on top of John.
"She's not going anywhere, Marshal McGrath. Y'all've got company." Gibb Burnwood smiled down at them pleasantly, as though this were another of those mornings when he dropped: by uninvited to cook breakfast.
"Kendall, why don't you make some coffee? It's been a long, tedious night. I could certainly use some, and I'm sure Matt could, too."
He emanated a strong, evil aura. Had it always been there, and she just hadn't noticed it because she wasn't looking for' it? Or had the corruption in his soul only recently manifested' itself ?
The light in his eyes was chilling. Remembering the night mare of Michael Li's execution, she wanted to attack him, to , scratch at those glacial eyes, but as long as Matt was holding , Kevin, she couldn't risk taking that action. Indeed, she was powerless to do anything except exactly what she was told Fear had liquefied her muscles, but she pulled herself to her feet, and mechanically prepared a pot of coffee. While it was dripping into the carafe, Gibb sat in one of the kitchen chairs and laid a 30.06 deer rifle across his lap. He turned to John, who was still sitting on the floor.
"My name is Gibb Burnwood. We've never met, but there's been so much about you in the news lately, I feel like I know you. How do you do?"
John glared up at the older man. He couldn't have known that his silent refusal to acknowledge the polite introduction was to Gibb an insult of the highest caliber.
"I guess you're not too pleased to see us," her former father in-law said tightly. "Although I can't understand why. In a very real sense, we've rescued you from my mentally unstable daughter-in-law. But it doesn't really matter whether you thank us or not. The more hostile you are, the easier it will be to kill you when the time comes."
He slapped his thighs as though a matter of importance had been satisfactorily settled. "Kendall, is the coffee ready?"
His conversational tone and friendly manner terrified her far more than if he had been ranting and drooling and tearing at his hair. Killers who exhibited the most self-control were usually those who killed without conscience or remorse.
Gibb appeared perfectly sane, but he had lost all connection to reality. Other members of the Brotherhood might have embraced the spiritual aspects of it only to salve their consciences for committing murder and hate crimes. But Gibb believed in their creed, heart and soul. He had swallowed whole his own fanatic propaganda. He regarded himself as an entity apart from the rest of the human race.
He was deadly.
Kendall approached him with the steaming cup of coffee, wondering what would happen if she spilled it on him. He would react reflexively, leap from his chair. In the confusion, she could grab Kevin from Matt, and John could lunge at Gibb. She glanced at John. He was watching her. He knew what she was thinking.
But so did Gibb. Without even turning his head and looking at her, he said, "Kendall, I trust you not to do anything foolish." He turned and looked at her then. "You've been a disappointment in all respects save one, you're incredibly bright. Too bright, in fact. It would have been far better for you if you hadn't had a curious intellect. Don't disappoint me now by doing something stupid. Because if you do, I'll have to shoot your friend here."
"Go ahead and shoot him," she said, setting the cup of coffee on the table with a defiant thud. "He's no friend of mine. If I'd had a gun, I would have shot him myself."
She looked at John contemptuously. "He tricked me. He had amnesia following the car wreck, but he failed to tell me when he regained his memory. He's been trying to trip me up all this time."
John's crutch was still out of his reach, so he used a chair to pull himself off the floor.
"Dad?" Matt stepped forward, keeping a cautious eye on John.
Gibb held up his hand. "It's okay, son. He can't do any thing."
John spoke for the first time. "That's right, Burnwood. I can't do anything. I haven't been able to do anything to defend myself since she kidnapped me," he said, sneering. "She brought me out here and pretended . . ."
He cut his eyes toward Matt and continued in an apologetic tone. "She pretended that I was her husband. I don't know why she did that when she could have ditched me here and kept running."
"She was waiting for the authorities to get tired of looking for her and turn their attention to something else," Gibb surmised.
"You're probably right," John conceded. "Anyway, I couldn't contradict anything she told me, because I had absolutely no memory. So I lived with her as her husband. In every sense of the word."
Angrily, Matt stepped forward, but again Gibb held up a restraining hand. "Marshal McGrath isn't to blame, Matthew.
She is."
"That's right, Matt," John said. "I was only responding to the lies she told me. How was I to know we weren't married?"
"You knew," Kendall shouted "You've known for a long time. You regained your memory,, but"
"But by then I was hooked, John said, interrupting her.
He was still speaking directly to Matt. "I don't have to tell you, man, how good she is in bed. At least she was with me. Maybe motherhood got her juices flowing. Hormones or something, you know? But when I tell you she couldn't get enough
"You whoring tramp." Suddenly Matt turned and confronted Kendall. "Did you do Your whoring in front of my son?"
"Most of the time he was in bed with us," John answered.
An angry sound boiled up from Matt's chest. Kendall had been following John's goading, wondering where it would lead, but neither she nor John was prepared for Matt's violent reaction.
He backhanded her hard across the face.
She hadn't seen it coming and took the full impact of the blow. Crying out, she fell forward, catching herself on the table. Matt raised his arm to hit her again, but John lunged for him, his hands going straight for Matt's throat.
"You maniac," he said with a snarl. "If you touch her again, I'll kill you."
John put all his strength into' the fight, but it was no contest. Gibb picked up the crutch and swung it hard at John's back, whacking him in the kidneys. Kendall heard his groan of agony and watched his knees buckle. He landed on all fours, his head hanging between his shoulders.
Frightened by the commotion and loud voices, Kevin had begun to cry. Gibb took him from Matt and held him against his shoulder, talking baby talk to him as though this were a Sunday afternoon visit. But Kevin wasn't fooled by the sweet talk. He was screaming.
There was nothing Kendall could do for her child. Gibb wouldn't allow her to take him, so she knelt and placed her arms around John. "I'm sorry," she whispered directly into his ear. "I'm sorry."
If not for her and her lies, he wouldn't be here. He was going to die because of her. Gibb had promised as much.
Their lives were going to end in this room, and they were helpless to do anything about it. But she wasn't going to let the Burnwoods see her cowed.
Blood was trickling down her chin as she raised her head and glared at Matt scornfully. She had called him her husband and carried his name, but he was much more a stranger to her than John was. Before she died, she wanted him to know how miserably he had failed as a husband and lover.
"During these past weeks I've known more fulfillment and love with this man than I ever knew while married to you."
"In the eyes of God, you're still my wife."
"You hypocrite." She sneered. "You divorced me."
"Because you deserted me."
"I ran away to protect myself and my baby."
"He's my baby."
"Some father you'd be, dividing your time between him, the Brotherhood, and your mistress!"
Matt's shoulders rose and fell on a harsh breath that sounded like a sob. "Lottie's dead."
To Kendall's speechless surprise, he covered his face with his hands and began to cry in racking sobs. Grimacing with pain, John managed to sit up and lean against a cupboard.
He and Kendall exchanged glances. She could tell that he was as puzzled as she by Matt's emotional outburst.
"Son, stop that!" At first Matt didn't respond to Gibb's sharp command, so Gibb repeated it.
When Matt lowered his hands, his face was puffy and streaked with tears. "Why'd you have to kill her?"
Kendall gasped. Gibb had killed Lottie Lynam? When?
Under what circumstances?
"You're bawling like a woman," Gibb said in rebuke. "It's unmanly and disgraceful. Stop it this instant."
"You didn't have to kill her."
"We talked about it, son, remember? She was the Devil's instrument. We did what we had to do. Service to God isn't accomplished without sacrifice."
"But I loved her." Matt's voice was raw from weeping. "She was . . . she was . . ."
''She was a cunt."
"Don't talk about her like that!" Matt shouted.
In the last few moments he had come apart emotionally and physically. His whole body was trembling. His skin had turned pasty and he sprayed spittle when he spoke. His eyes continued to stream with tears, and he seemed unaware that his nose was running. His disintegration was abhorrent to watch, but too fascinating to ignore.
"I loved her," he moaned miserably. "I did. I loved Lottie, and she loved me, and now she's gone. She was the only person who understood me."
"That's not true, son," Gibb said soothingly. "I understand you.
Then he swung the rifle toward Matt's chest and pulled the trigger.
The bullet exploded his heart; he was dead before his face could even register surprise. Gibb watched the body of his son drop to the floor then calmly cradled the rifle in his arm again.
Kevin lay screaming on his lap.
He addressed his horror-stricken spectators with perfect composure. "I did understand Matthew, you see. That woman had inflicted my son with a sickness. She had made him weak.
Weakness cannot be tolerated, even in those we love." Devoid of emotion, he looked at Matt's corpse.
"In every other way, he was an ideal son. He was obedient. A model member of the Brotherhood. He wrote what I told him to write, and he wrote it well. He had excellent hunting skills. He was a good fighter for the cause."
"Yeah, he was a prince," John said. "Very good at hitting a woman."
Gibb's icy eyes cut to him. "Don't waste your breath trying to provoke me, Marshal McGrath. Your taunts worked on my son, but they'll have no effect on me. Matthew couldn't tell when he was being manipulated. I can." He smiled. "But I admire you for trying."
Fixing his eyes on Kendall, he said, "Now, as for you, it doesn't matter a whit to me with whom you've set up housekeeping. All I'm interested in is this little fellow here."
He held Kevin up. He had been crying incessantly for the past several minutes, so loudly that they'd had to talk over : the racket.
"He's a gutsy little cuss. The louder the cry, the stronger Of the boy. Look at those fists," Gibb said, chuckling with pride.
"I'm going to make him into quite a man."
"Never," Kendall vowed.
Suddenly she was no longer afraid of him. Her courage was doomed to be short-lived. It sprang from her resignation to die. But she went with it because it was the only defense she had left against her nemesis.