the sharp click of the hammer. “Inside, all three of you. No one makes a sound, or you’re all dead.”
Chapter 32
Casey’s and Jocelyn’s glances met in clear recognition of the danger. Any pleading or display of emotion from the women invited a taste of Jenkins’s fury. Bonnie, her face pale, stood as if her small body were frozen to the porch. Do not open your mouth, Bonnie, or it’s all over for us.
Jocelyn gently took Bonnie’s arm and escorted her inside.
Jenkins smelled of whisky, and his right eye twitched. Killer mad. Someone always ended up dead when he was like this. God, please help us.
“Your quarrel is with me,” Casey said once the four of them were inside with the door closed. “Let these women go.”
“Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t.” His glare sent a flash of alarm up her spine. “Here, girl, let me take a look at you.” He ripped off her bonnet and yanked on her hair, sending hairpins flying. “My, you sure look fancy. This new life must be agreein’ with you.” He pointed the revolver at Jocelyn and Bonnie. Casey immediately planted herself in front of them. “It’s a pity I have to kill all of you.”
Horror for her dear friends penetrated her soul. She’d caused this. “Leave them alone, Jenkins. This is between you and me.”
He appeared to think over her request while Casey stared into his reddened eyes. He hadn’t bathed in days. Images from the past gripped her. He had no sense when he’d been drinking. They were as good as dead unless she thought of something fast. How many times had she seen him this way? How many folks had he killed in a drunken stupor?
Jocelyn. Bonnie. Poor Bonnie, who saw Kathleen’s bloody body after her murder.
“There’s rope by the wood box,” she said. “I’ll tie them up for you. Gag them, too, if you like.”
“Why?” He appeared to weigh her words.
“So they don’t cause trouble.”
“They’re Morgan Andrews’s family.” Jenkins wiped his dirty mouth and slapped his right leg. “I have him to thank for this. Seems only fair for me to kill his women.” He stepped toward Bonnie. “This pretty little thing needs a good man first.”
Bonnie stiffened and lifted her chin in an uncharacteristic display of strength.
“Morgan is on his way here. He’s right behind me,” Casey said.
“You’re lyin’.”
“Why should I? You could pick him off when he comes riding in.” Her eyes never left his face. “You’ve got both of us, Jenkins. We’re all trapped.” She gambled on Jenkins’s having to seize control of every situation. He’d planned her death for a long time. Any interruption would bother him.
Jenkins angrily knocked over the coffeepot resting on the stove. His right eye jerked. “Tie ’em up, and be quick about it before I change my mind. I’ve got my own way of handling this. I sure never thought him stupid enough to bring you here. What did you promise him?”
“Nothing.”
Jenkins waved his gun in her face. “I know what you are, Casey girl. Hurry up. We’re getting out of here.”
Casey captured Jocelyn’s gaze and mouthed the word pray. Bonnie saw the exchange and nodded slightly. She seemed to be in control of her emotions. Casey bound both women with loose knots and gagged them. She sent silent messages of hope to her precious friends. She needed time—time to think. The door flew open, and Grant walked in.
“What’s going on here?” Grant’s gaze swept to his mother and Bonnie, then rested on Casey.
Jenkins whipped around and raised his revolver.
“No, please.” Casey’s words died in the blast of gunfire.
Grant fell back against the door. Blood spurted from his shoulder and dripped down his shirt. He grabbed his upper arm and stared dumfounded at the thick red liquid oozing between his fingers. Pain and shock spread over his face. He swayed toward the table.
The nightmare had begun.
“Let me take care of him.” Casey moved toward Grant.
Jenkins grabbed her arm and pushed her toward the door. “We’re getting out of here before that shot brings any more uninvited company.” The outlaw knocked her to the floor and delivered a savage kick to her side. “One more word, and I’ll kill ’em all.”
Grant grabbed his bleeding shoulder. “My brother will tear you apart with his bare hands.”
Casey looked up, her eyes glazed from the sharp bruise to her body. She sent a silent warning to Grant.
“Not likely, kid,” Jenkins said. “You’ve got guts, considering I’ve already shot you once.”
Casey forced herself to stand.