Betty saw how hard and stiff Henry’s entire body grew, and her mind frantically searched for something she could do, other than grasp ahold of Jane’s hand as her sister wrapped an arm around her waist from behind.
Patsy was behind Lane, who was standing next to Henry, and she shot a quivering look at Betty.
Betty reached over and took ahold of Patsy’s hand with her free hand. She had to get them to safety. They were her responsibility. Slowly, cautiously, she took a step back, forcing Jane to back up and tugging Patsy with them.
“Did you really think you’d get away with it, Elkin?” Henry asked. “Being a mole? Selling out?”
“I already did,” the man said.
Henry shook his head while asking, “Why’d you do it?”
“Because I was sick of putting my life on the line for seven bucks a week!” Elkin shouted. “I’m worth more than a buck a day. Others believe that, too. One little piece of information brought me more money than I made in a year working for the Bureau.”
“That’s called bribery,” Henry said. “And it’s illegal.”
Elkin laughed. “Dough is dough.”
“The dough you took was dirty money, but you still wanted more.” Henry said. “Your greed is going to make you rot in jail, Curtis.”
Elkin’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, grew beady. “I should have tossed that barrel in the ocean.”
“Why didn’t you?” Henry asked.
Betty couldn’t believe how calm Henry sounded. Her entire body was trembling. She was scared stiff. For Henry. For herself, and her sisters, yet she knew she had to get her sisters out of here and took another step backward, forcing Patsy and Jane to do the same, slowly, quietly.
“Because you didn’t want my body to be found too soon?” Henry asked. “Because you had to fake your own death, too? Hoped the badges would be enough for people to believe we were both dead?” Henry shook his head. “You didn’t think that one through, did you? Didn’t think I’d survive?”
The mole shifted his stance, lifted his head as if that made him taller. “That bimbo helping me said you weren’t breathing when we stuffed you in that barrel.”
“The bimbo you killed?” Henry asked.
Elkin shook his head. “You don’t know that! No one does!”
“Because his body hasn’t been recovered? The one you were hoping people would believe is your body?” Henry shook his head. “You failed, Elkin.”
An evil smile formed on Elkin’s face. “No, I haven’t.”
Betty couldn’t hold back a gasp as the man lifted his hand and pointed a gun at Henry. She’d never felt so scared, or helpless. There was nothing she could do.
“You have,” Elkin said, waving his gun.
“What do you think you are doing?” Henry asked.
“I’m going to get rid of you for good.” He laughed. “And your friends. Including your doll.”
Betty had been about to step forward and grab Henry, pull him back into the room, but froze, because he suddenly had a gun in his hand, too.
“I don’t think so,” Henry growled. “You’ve seen me shoot. You might get a shot off, but mine will be a kill shot. You know that. Dead center. You call it, your chest, or your head.”
Betty’s knees nearly buckled at how harsh and grim Henry sounded. The other man sounded serious, too, but Henry sounded far more believable. Like he was going to kill this man.
“What’s it going to be, Elkin?” Henry asked, taking a step forward. “Head or chest?”
“You don’t scare me, Randall.”
“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m telling you how this will play out if you pull that trigger.” Henry took another step toward the man.
Betty was torn between reaching forward, grabbing him, and pulling her sisters backward. She didn’t want anyone to die and pinched her lips together to hold a sob in.
He shook his head. “I don’t think you want to be dead, Elkin, and I know I don’t want to kill you, but I will.” He took another step. “I will, right here. Right now.”
Betty squeezed her eyes shut against the tears now blinding her. This couldn’t be happening. Henry talking about killing a man.
She wasn’t sure what happened next, because when a loud grunt and thud made her open her eyes, Henry and Elkin were on the floor near the basement steps, fighting.
A gun went off.
Screaming, Betty shoved both of her sisters through the doorway behind them.
More furious than he’d ever been, Henry leveled a blow that knocked Elkin’s glasses off his face. Then he flipped Elkin over onto his stomach and planted his knee in the man’s back. As he grabbed both of Elkin’s wrists, he shouted to Lane, “Get the women out of here.”
“You aren’t going to win this, Randall!” Elkin yelled. “I have backup. Here and everywhere else.”
Henry knew that was a real possibility and dug his knee deeper into Elkin’s back as Lane led the women down the hall.
He felt Betty’s eyes, but kept his eyes averted. Unable to look at her. He might have just captured the man he’d been searching for, but he wasn’t proud of the way it went down, at gunpoint, with him threatening to shoot a man and her watching. Her in danger!
That was the worst part. If Elkin’s finger had touched that trigger, he would have shot the mole. Dead. Because he couldn’t have taken the chance that a bullet would have hit her. The Bureau should never have issued Elkin a gun. The man couldn’t hit a target three feet away.
Henry exhaled the hot air burning his lungs. That was what had scared him to death. Elkin’s aim. They’d been five feet apart. Elkin’s bullet would have struck one of them, and there was no telling who that might have been.
Holding Elkin’s wrists with one hand, he reached down and picked up his gun, shoved it in his waistband, and then picked up Elkin’s.
He’d grabbed Elkin’s wrist when he’d
