on his next moves, or un-moves, there wasn’t any question in my mind that he’d been on the receiving end of the bullet.
I hunkered down with my arms around Ben.
“We have to get out of here,” I told him, starting to crab-crawl toward the beeyard, which stood between me and the safety of my truck. Ben loped ahead, apparently thinking we were on a picnic or some other lazy-day outing. He reached the tree line and waited for me.
By the time I turned around to make sure we hadn’t been spotted, I heard the car drive noisily away. That took a huge weight off my shoulders, even though I never saw a thing that would help identify the driver.
My knees were still wobbly.
I had to make a choice: either save myself from any further involvement, or go back and help Kenny, my nasty competition.
I’m a Wisconsin woman. We have principles. I couldn’t live with myself for the rest of my life if Kenny died and I hadn’t even tried to save him.
“Come,” I called to Ben, who had a puzzled expression when I started back the way we’d come, but he galloped up and paced me as I ran for the front door.
“Stay, Ben.” I knew enough not to let a dog inside the building to possibly mess up a crime scene. I even used a piece of my top to open the door in case the shooter had left fingerprints.
Kenny’s eyes were closed, which made me think he was still alive, but I couldn’t find a pulse.
I’d barely crouched beside him before I heard another vehicle stop outside. I rose and saw Ray get out of his car and come toward the door.
And it all came together for me.
A speck late to help, though.
Ray’s muffler had been loud at the market. And the car that drove off a few minutes ago had been louder than normal. That’s why I could hear it from across the field.
I ran to the door and threw the lock in time, but he’d seen me.
“Story, open up,” Ray said, pressing his face against the door’s windowpane. “I saw your truck down the road on my way here. Did you break down?”
I felt sick to my stomach. Ray had shot Kenny, driven away, then saw my truck. He assumed, rightly, that I’d been in the vicinity and might have seen what he did.
So he came back.
Wonderful. And where was Ben? He’d been right outside a minute ago. I backed away from the door.
“I’m calling the police,” I said. “Kenny’s hurt.”
“Open up.” Ray jiggled the doorknob. Then he shot through the door lock.
I forgot all about my knees, all my aches and pains, and ran through the building to a back door, hoping it wasn’t locked.
It wasn’t.
I burst out into the open and ran for the beeyard. Ben came from my right, passed me up, and kept going.
Ray fired shots from behind me, but I kept running, because I knew that it was better to take my chances on the outside than stay inside. His odds of hitting me weren’t great.
As long as he didn’t catch me.
Ben had stopped up ahead at the same spot as before, alert and ready, but for what?
“Ben,” I screamed when I saw Ray take off after me. “Attack!”
Ben perked up, totally ready, but he didn’t move.
“Ben, help!”
Nothing. For all he knew, this was one of many simulations, a pretend assault to test his ability to follow orders precisely. What had Hunter told me? That Ben wouldn’t attack without the proper command, and even then, only if it came from him. Damn!
Just then, my flip-flopped right foot hit a dip in the earth and twisted. Down I went between two hives, giving Ray enough time to catch up.
“Where is it?” he wanted to know. I knew exactly what he meant: the journal.
“Someplace where you’ll never find it,” I said.
I stayed on the ground. Ray trained the gun on me. “I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me.”
“You’re going to kill me anyway.”
Ray grinned. It wasn’t pretty. “It should have been you with your face in the water instead of that other woman. I screwed up once, but I won’t this time.”
I remembered standing at the window with my customers that day and the comments they had made about how much Faye looked like me.
Oh my God! He’d mistaken Faye Tilley for me!
I chanced a look at Ben. He still waited by the trees.
“Most of it went as planned,” Ray couldn’t help