'Father John, would you help me load him into the car?'
'Of course.'
Lifting together, they raised Bone off the floor and carried him outside. 'My car's out back,' Diana said, heading that way.
'No,' Father John corrected. 'We'll take mine. It's closer.'
They reached the car and eased the stricken animal onto the backseat.
As Diana straightened up, she found that Davy had followed them and was starting to climb into the car with Bone. Diana stopped him. 'You stay here with Rita,' she ordered. 'If she has to leave before I get back, you can go along with her.'
Davy, close to tears, barely heard her. 'Is Oh'o going to die?' he asked.
'I hope not, but I don't know,' Diana answered grimly.
She climbed into the car and closed the door behind her while the priest started the engine. Before driving out of the yard, Father John stopped the car beside the distressed child and rolled down his window.
'Remember how we were talking about prayer a while ago?' the priest asked, Davy nodded. 'Would you like me to pray for Bone?'
The boy's eyes filled with tears. 'Yes, please,' he whispered.
'Heavenly Father,' the priest said, bowing his head.
'We pray that you will grant the blessing of healing to your servant, Bone, that he may return safely to his home.
We ask this in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.'
'Does that mean he'll be all right now?'
Father John shook his head gravely. 'When God answers prayers, He can say either yes or no. Right now, it's too soon to tell. You keep on praying while we take him to the vet, okay?'
'Okay,' Davy said, his voice quavering. 'I will.'
Andrew saw the priest and the woman drive away in a hurry. The dog was with them in the car. They were probably taking the mutt to a vet.
Maybe it would work, but he doubted it. He had put enough slug bait in that hamburger to choke a horse. This was, however, one very large dog.
Carlisle turned back toward the house in smug satisfaction and saw the boy walk dejectedly back into the house.
Everything had worked like a charm, just the way i'd planned it. The boy was as good as his. It was stupid of Diana to leave him there alone, but that was her problem.
Diana was gone, and the boy was unprotected, and Andrew Carlisle wanted Davy in the very worst way.
Sliding down the mountain, not caring now whether or not he stayed out of sight or made too much noise, Andrew Carlisle started toward the house. He had spent seven long years waiting for this moment. Now that it was finally starting, he could barely contain himself. Diana Ladd was going to make it all worthwhile.
At ten minutes to six, when the phone rang in the house on Weber Drive, Myrna Louise was waiting. She had gone out to the car to bring in her suitcase from the trunk and had subsequently discovered everything hidden there-her bankbook, her blank checks, the gun, the bag of lime, and the luggage with someone else's name on it.
She didn't bother to open the luggage. It had been stolen from someone else as surely as her own savings- account book had been stolen from her.
And her cash, too, as she discovered moments later.
For half an hour now, she had sat quietly in her rocking chair, wondering what it all meant. She had already assimilated the idea that Andrew, her own son, had meant to kill her, would have killed her, if she hadn't taken the crazy notion into her head to drive off in the car.
Sure knowledge of Andrew's murderous intentions had shocked her at first, but initial shock had worn into fuming anger.
Now, she sat rehearsing what she would say to him when Andrew finally called her, as she knew he would. She had considered turning him in herself but decided against it.
Someone else would have to do the dirty work, not her, not his own mother. But if the cops happened to come to her house looking for him, she wouldn't raise a hand to stop them.
Constantly rephrasing her speech, she decided to tell Andrew that if he ever came near her again, if he ever darkened her doorstep or wrote her a letter or even so much as tried to contact her by phone, she would see to it that he rotted in prison for the rest of his natural life. How did that sound?
Andrew had finally stepped beyond Myrna Louise's considerable threshold of tolerance. Having once reached the end of her rope, she determined to no longer have a son. She would declare him null and void. As far as she was concerned, Andrew Carlisle would cease to exist.
So when the phone finally rang, it was his voice she expected to hear on the other end of the line, whining and blathering. Instead, the voice was that of a total stranger.
'Is Andrew there?' the man asked.
Myrna Louise's heart skipped a beat as she tried to conceal her disappointment 'Who's calling, please?' she asked guardedly.
'A friend of his,' the man said. 'Is he there?'
