Pen backed away from her.
"I"m gonna cut you up. I"m gonna cut up that gorgeous face for you. I"m gonna cut off your precious t.i.ts. Then we"ll see, won"t we? Think Bodie"s gonna want you then? Do you? Huh?"
The wall stopped Pen"s retreat. She flicked the safety off. "Just stop."
"No, no, no, not me."
Pen pulled the trigger. The shotgun jerked in her hands. Its roar blasted her ears. A circle of ceiling beyond Melanie"s head exploded away. White dust and chunks of plaster fell.
Melanie grinned. Taking one more step, she gripped the muzzle with her left hand and pressed it to her chest. "Go ahead, sister. Try again."
"Mela for G.o.dsake!"
Glancing past Melanie"s shoulder, she saw Bodie on his hands and knees, trying to get up.
The barrel flew upward, thrust high by Melanie. In disbelief, Pen saw her sister duck beneath it and drive the knife at her chest. She lurched sideways. A hot streak burned across the skin under her left breast. She rammed out with an elbow. It caught Melanie in the armpit, knocking her out of the way. But she still held the shotgun. She wrenched it from Pen and hurled it to the floor.
Pen shoved herself off the wall. She tried to dodge past Melanie, hoping to regain the gun, but Melanie rushed ahead to block her way. And slashed. Pen dropped back as the blade whipped across her belly. It snagged and ripped her loose sweatshirt, but missed her skin. Whirling around, she ran for the bedroom door.
Melanie"s feet pounded the carpet close behind her. They stayed behind her as she raced along the corridor.
"You"ve had it!" Melanie yelled. "You"ve had it!"
At the top of the stairs, Pen grabbed the newel post and swung herself around it.
She was three steps down when she was. .h.i.t. She cried out, more in alarm than pain, as the blade went in. The impact threw her forward. Her feet left the stairs and she flew headlong toward the bottom.
Bodie staggered across the bedroom, each step wracking him with pain as if pliers were squeezing his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es. He bent over, groaning, and picked up the shotgun. His ears still rang from the blast.
Lurching through the doorway, he swung to the left. The corridor was empty. He heard footsteps on the stairs, but saw no one. The wall blocked his view for a few yards. Then it ended, and he threw himself against the railing of the balcony over the living room.
Melanie, knife raised overhead like a madwoman, was charging down the stairs. Pen was at the bottom, scrambling away on her knees and one hand. Her right forearm, bent at an odd angle, looked broken. The back of her sweatshirt had a slick oval of blood.
"Mel!" Bodie yelled.
She didn"t stop. She was halfway down the stairs.
Pen, now on her feet, stumbled toward the foyer, her broken arm flapping.
Bodie jacked a sh.e.l.l into the shotgun chamber.
Melanie, hearing the noise, looked over her shoulder.
"Stop!" he cried out.
He peered down the sighting ramp. The bead at the muzzle"s end wavered back and forth across Melanie"s neck. He noticed her choker. A memory flashed through his mind of the time in bed when she was naked except for one of those chokers and he started to take it off and she clutched her ears to hold her head on.
His finger eased its pressure on the trigger.
"Just stay put!" he ordered. "Don"t move! Drop the knife!"
Her head turned away.
Bodie shifted his eyes to the right. Pen was at the front door, pulling it open.
Melanie looked back at him, then at the door again.
"Don"t!" he shouted.
She raced down the stairs.
Bodie tracked her with the shotgun, knowing that a hit would probably kill her, hating to kill her, wondering if Pen had enough headstart, then swinging the muzzle well ahead of Melanie and firing. The shotgun leapt and kicked his shoulder as the blast slapped his eardrums. The front door, left ajar by Pen, crashed shut as the pellets punched through its bottom.
He ran for the stairway, grimacing each time a foot landed and sent a new shockwave of pain from his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es.
Melanie reached the front door at the same moment as he started down the stairs.
Running had hurt, but pounding his way down the steps was glaring white agony.
Melanie threw open the door and dashed out.
Bodie worked the pump-action. The spent sh.e.l.l tumbled away.
He leaped down the final three stairs, crying out as his feet struck the floor and pain exploded through his body. He hobbled across the foyer and out the front door.
Melanie, her white blouse a pale bobbing target, was halfway across the dark yard. The dim, running shape of Pen was not far ahead of her.
When Pen reached the closed gate, Melanie would get her.
No question.
"Stop!" Bodie shrieked, shouldering the gun.
What if some of the pellets go past her and get Pen?
He aimed at the center of Melanie"s back. His finger tightened on the trigger.
Pen was one stride from the gate.
The gate crashed open, smashing her, hurling her aside.
A man charged into the yard, hunched over as if he had just thrown a body-block against the gate. He straightened up abruptly as Melanie, not changing course to fall upon Pen, flew at him.
Harrison.
Harrison had raped Pen.
Bodie held fire.
The man put out both hands to stop Melanie. He yelled, "Hey!" Then she hit him, driving the knife into his chest as the force of her impact carried him backward to the walkway. Melanie dropped on top of him.
Even from the porch, Bodie heard the thunk of his head striking the concrete.
He ran toward the sprawled shapes.
Harrison, on the bottom, didn"t move.
Melanie, on top of him, moved a lot.
Her arm did.
Punching the knife into his body, yanking it out, stabbing him again and again until Bodie stopped her with a quick stroke of the shotgun b.u.t.t.
He dragged the shotgun beside him as he staggered over to Pen. Letting it fall to the gra.s.s, he knelt down next to her. She lay on her back, panting, clutching the wound beneath her breast.
"How bad are you?"
As if it didn"t matter, she shook her head. "What happened?" she gasped.
"Mela I think she killed Harrison. I knocked her out."
Groaning, Pen struggled to sit up. Bodie pressed her shoulders gently to the ground. "I think your arm"s broken."
"Tell me about it."
"Just rest. I"ll call the police."
"No. Help me up."
"Pena"
"Please."
He pulled her by the shoulders. When she was sitting, she hooked her left arm around his neck. He clutched her sides, just beneath the armpits, and lifted her. She was very heavy at first, then weightless as her legs took over. "Okay," she muttered. Bodie held onto her arm, but found that she needed no support as she led him back to the motionless bodies. "Would you get her off him?"
Crouching, Bodie pulled gently at Melanie until she rolled away from Harrison. As one of her hands flopped to the ground, she moaned. Her eyes stayed shut.
Pen sank to her knees beside Harrison and stared at him.
Bodie, stepping around Melanie, squatted near his head. The man"s eyes were closed, his mouth hanging open. The knife hilt protruded from his chest.
Pen put a hand to his throat.
"She must"ve stabbed him five or six times," Bodie said.
"I can"t find a pulse."
"I could"ve stopped her. I was ready to shoot her, but when she went for him instead of youa The man raped you. And he ran down your father."
"Where"s his gun?" Pen asked.
"I didn"t see one."
Leaning over the body, Pen pulled a revolver from the pocket of his jacket. "I figured he had to have it. I don"t know if this"ll help much, buta" She swung the revolver toward the front of the house and fired twice.
Straddling the body, she put the gun into Harrison "s hand and slipped his forefinger through the trigger guard. She pressed his fingertip against the trigger. With the bottom edge of her sweatshirt, she wiped her prints off the rest of the gun.
"What about Joyce?" Bodie asked.
"I don"t know."
"There"s no way to make that look like self-defense."
"If we could get rid of the bodya"
Bodie heard a siren, its distant alarm blaring through the night. "Too late for anything like that," he said.
Melanie, sprawled on the gra.s.s beside her victim, looked as if she were sleeping.
"Can you think of a story?" Bodie asked Pen.
"Nothing to cover all this. The truth, I guess. It"ll have to do."
"Except for the revolver."
The siren swelled to a high scream.
Pen stood up.
Bodie, rising, put a hand low on her back. Together, they stepped through the open gate. Pen leaned her head against his shoulder. "I wish we could go back in time," she said, "and change it all."
"I guess Harrison and Joyce got what they had coming," Bodie said.
"But Melanie."
"Yeah."
"What did we do to her?"
He put his arms around Pen and gently drew her against him. Holding her, he turned slowly until he could see the open gate beyond her head. Melanie was on her hands and knees. Her face lifted. It was a dim patch in the darkness with black pits for eyes.
Staring at us, Bodie knew.
Hating us.
He felt a shiver climb his back.
Would she go for the shotgun?