it. If he came up the stairs and began blasting through the lock and moved the chest of drawers, she would have time to shoot before he got to her. It seemed like a good plan.
Only now did Diane notice that her heart was racing and she was sick to her stomach. She heard footsteps on the main stairs. Maybe he wouldn’t find the attic stairs. They were hidden in the bedroom closet.
Her cell rang. Damn, she forgot to put it on vibrate. She answered with a whisper.
“Diane, are you all right? You sound hoarse. This is Vanessa. Mother remembered—”
“Can’t talk now, Vanessa. I’ll call back.”
A booming gunshot slammed against the attic door.
“Is that gunfire?” said Vanessa.
“Yes. Got to go.”
Chapter 41
Diane dropped the cell, rested her shaking arms on the trunk, and aimed the gun at the doorway. If he came straight through the doorway, he might not think to turn to the right until it was too late. He would have to lean into the door to move the chest. He would be off balance. That would give her time—if she was lucky. He hit the door with another earsplitting shot. What if there were more than one of them? Damn, she hadn’t thought of that. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
The chest jumped as another bullet slammed through the back. It sounded like an elephant gun, it was so loud. Diane checked to see if the safety on her gun was off. It wasn’t. Shit. She would get killed if she didn’t start thinking. She moved the switch with her thumb.
Sirens whined in the distance. Hurry. Please, hurry.
The intruder shot the door twice more. The sound was so loud the entire neighborhood should have heard it. She thought she could hear him reloading—clink, clink.
The chest began to inch forward. He was pushing on it now. Diane steadied her gun. He apparently put his shoulder into it, for the chest moved forward at least three feet and he stumbled into the room—facing Diane. He raised his shotgun toward her as she fired three times and ducked behind the trunk. She felt the floor shake when he fell. At the same instant, a blast from his shotgun shook her eardrums and the wall behind her exploded, debris falling over her. Diane lay still a moment, stunned. When her head cleared, she wanted to peek over the trunk, but she was afraid it was a trap. What if he was playing dead? What if he had backup? She was stuck. She crouched behind the trunk and listened to his breathing. It came in gasps, sounding real enough, but she didn’t believe it.
“Help me,” he whispered.
She was too scared to move, too wary to trust. She tried to think what to do, but her brain was too panicked.
Damn, she thought. I’ve been in bad situations before. Why am I suddenly such a coward?
She stayed low and moved slowly to look around the side of the trunk next to the wall. There was a six-inch opening between the wall and the trunk she could have seen through, if it weren’t so dark. The only significant light reflected through the windows from the security lamps. They had suddenly gone dark. The motion detector outside had timed out. Only dim light from the floor below seeped up the stairs and through the open doorway. It did little to illuminate.
The sirens were louder. Help was coming. But the sirens were too loud. She wouldn’t hear him if he moved. Diane stayed still and listened hard through the noise. She stared through the space beside the trunk until her eyes became adjusted to the darkness. She saw a booted foot moving, trying to get up. She shot at it and he yelped.
She heard him whimper and mutter something she couldn’t make out. He seemed to be down, but Diane didn’t trust him. She waited, tempted to shoot him again.
Get some backbone, she told herself.
She heard banging on the door downstairs. The police. But what if it was Frank? He wouldn’t know what he was walking into. She rose slowly, keeping her back flat against the wall, and surveyed the darkened attic. She saw the dark form of the intruder squirming on the floor. The shotgun was within his reach. She aimed her gun at him and made her way slowly to the downed form and kicked the shotgun aside. She stepped over to the door, keeping him in sight, keeping her gun trained on him, and flipped