Dead Guilty

‘‘Are you listening to me, bitch! Turn on the goddamn fucking light.’’

She was silent.

‘‘If I have to find you, you won’t like it.’’

Diane concentrated on breathing softly, hoping he couldn’t hear her, hoping she wouldn’t have to cough or sneeze. She waited, trying not to think of the others.

‘‘Okay. You win. I’ll help pull your friend out of the hole she’s in. You know how to make deals. How’s that for a deal?’’

He was silent for several moments, as if he was waiting for Diane to ponder his offer.

‘‘Look, you stupid bitch, you have to get out of here too. Did you think that far ahead?’’

Yes, thought Diane. I did.

‘‘You can’t move. If I hear you I’ll shoot, you have to know that. I’m a pretty good shot. I can aim by sound.’’

Diane heard him fumbling in the dark. He’d started walking, bumping against the rocks. She picked up a stone and threw it. He didn’t fire.

‘‘You didn’t expect me to fall for that old trick, did you?’’

Diane said nothing. She picked up another stone and threw it. Again, he didn’t fire. This time she rose and slowly slipped out of the passage, and this time he fired—toward her.

The bullet pinged off the wall and echoed through out the chamber. The cave was cold but she felt sweat trickling down her back and between her breasts. She started to shiver.

She heard him moving and fumbling through the breakdown. He cursed and yelled at her. In the dark, her plan seemed to have vanished with the light.

Focus on the task. You’re a cave creature, she re minded herself.

Diane stuffed the flashlight in her pocket and felt along the walls, felt the scallops carved by water— steep slope of the scallop upstream. She focused on remembering the cave, the paces, the directions. She moved as quickly as she dared, feeling the wall along the way. The breakdown debris was the hardest. It slowed her passage as she felt for a firm footing with each step.

She came to a passage and stopped. She fished her small knife out of her jeans pocket and worked on prying the cover off her compass. She fumbled, search ing for a place to put the point of her knife, trying not to slip and stab herself. It was stuck fast.

She stopped, took a deep breath and tried again. It moved. She stuck the knife in the widening crack, rais ing the cover. She broke it the rest of the way open and felt the compass inside with her fingers.

‘‘I’m going to catch you, and when I do, you’ll wish you’d never crossed me. You won’t die quickly.’’

Diane let her compass rest level for a moment be fore she put her fingertips on it, feeling for the tiny raised arrow painted on one of the hands. She had succeeded in separating LaSalle and herself from her friends for the moment, but what if he found his way back to Mike and the others? There would be lights there. They and she would all be worse off than when they started. She’d promised them they’d be safe.

Off in the distance she occasionally heard a muffled cry. MacGregor, or Neva maybe. If LaSalle heard it he could home in on it—maybe, or maybe not, but she couldn’t take the chance. If he found the right passage, he might eventually see the glow from their lights, unless they thought to turn them off. Mike might think of it, if he weren’t so injured . . . if he weren’t dead.

No! she shouted inside her head. You are going to get everyone out of this mess.

She wondered if she dared turn on the flashlight for just a moment to check her bearings. She leaned against the wall and listened. She heard him in the distance, stumbling over the rocks, cursing under his breath. He was not in this passage. Maybe he would pass it by—more likely he’d take each passage he came to. That plan would eventually lead him into bad trouble.

She needed to stay far enough away from him to stay out of his hearing but near enough to know the direction he was traveling.

‘‘I’ll make you a deal,’’ he shouted. ‘‘I give you my word—on my father’s grave, and I respected my fa ther. Turn on the flashlight and we’ll both get out of here and I’ll go my separate way.’’

Yeah, right, thought Diane. She listened as he by passed her tunnel and kept going straight. She doubled back, always keeping her hand on the wall, walking as quietly as she could, trying to get behind him. Time was passing, and Mike and Neva didn’t have much of it. She was able to move more quickly than LaSalle. Even her effort to move quietly was faster than his stumbling, angry traverse through the cave.

She had formed another plan. She didn’t like it, but she saw no other way. If she got close enough, she could hit him hard with a rock, turn on her light and take his gun.

She was closing the distance behind him. He stum bled and stopped dead still. Had he heard her, smelled her sweat? Her apple-scented shampoo? Was he just resting?

She stood still, holding her breath for long mo ments. When she did breathe, it was slow and silent. He still hadn’t moved. Was he formulating a plan? He had sensed her somehow. It was a reckless plan she’d come up with.

He started walking again, but now back from where he had come. He was close now. She remained still and breathless. She heard him fumbling and jangling.

Almost before it happened, Diane realized what he’d thought of, what she hadn’t thought of. A tiny light flickered, like the tail of a lightning bug. She was face-to-face with the most evil set of eyes she had ever seen.

Chapter 46