“I didn’t. Truly, Meg, I didn’t call the police.”
“I don’t believe you! They’re out there, and it’s because of you. You promised! You promised you’d help me run away with Pat.”
“I tried, Meg. But I didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to reach Pat.”
“You lied to me!” Tears had sprung to Meg’s eyes, tears of anger and frustration. She still pointed the gun at Jo, but her hand shook with emotion, making Jo fear an accidental trigger pull as much as a deliberate one.
Light suddenly flooded the outdoors, seeping through the slatted walls into the barn. “Meg Boyer! We have you surrounded. Throw out your weapon and come out.”
Jo thought she recognized Mark Rosatti’s voice, distorted though it was, by a bullhorn. Jo flashed back to Mark’s description of what had gone wrong with the situation when Russ was shot. The woman who had been held hostage at that time had panicked and run, causing her frenzied boyfriend to let loose a stream of bullets, one of which caught Russ. Jo didn’t want Mark, or anyone else who had come to help her, to get hurt—or worse. Jo certainly wasn’t going to panic and run, but she couldn’t let Meg fall apart either, causing an exchange of bullets.
What could she do to diffuse the situation? The boyfriend in Russ’s situation had been drunk. Meg wasn’t drunk, but her mental state wasn’t far from drunkenness with its cloudy thinking. She had already swung within minutes from thoughts of suicide to giddy plans for an impossible future, to threats on people’s lives. Reasoning wasn’t likely to get through to her. But what would?
“You better go away!” Meg screamed. “I’ll shoot her if you try to come in here.”
“You don’t have to shoot anyone, Meg,” Mark’s voice said. “You can end this now by coming out. No one needs to get hurt.”
“I’ll hurt anyone I have to!” Meg cried, then said to Jo, “They probably think I don’t know how to use this, but I do. Kevin got it for me, to protect myself when he was gone, and I know how to handle it. So don’t think I don’t.”
“I never thought that, Meg,” Jo said. “I could see you were expert with it. You must have practiced a lot, right? At a shooting range?”
Meg nodded.
“That was very smart of you.”
Meg didn’t answer, but Jo thought a bit of the wildness in her eyes had receded. She still breathed heavily, and her eyes shifted rapidly between Jo and the scene outside, as glimpsed through the slits in the wood. The blazing light made it impossible to see little more than shadows behind it, which gave the entire area a surreal look. Mark and whoever else was with him must have come through the woods and barricaded themselves just beyond the tree line. Jo could only imagine what Meg must be feeling, caught in this trap when only moments ago she had been immersed in her fantasy life.
The ring of a cell phone startled them both. It came from one of Meg’s jacket pockets. Meg made no move to answer it. The ringing continued, then stopped as Meg’s voice mail likely kicked in. Suddenly Meg’s whole body jerked.
“That might have been Pat!”
She scrambled for the phone and flicked it open to hear the message, her expression changing quickly from excited to angry. She snapped the phone shut. Within seconds it rang again. She ignored it. Then the third cycle began. This time she opened the phone by the third ring and angrily demanded, “Stop calling me!”
Assuming it was Mark on the other end, Jo watched Meg listen for a few moments, then say, “No, I’m not going to let her go. I’d be a total fool to do that, wouldn’t I?” More listening, then Meg said, “I’ll tell you what I want, Lieutenant Morgan, I want everyone out there to go away! That’s what I want.”
Lieutenant Morgan! Jo clutched her throat and would have rushed to press her eye against one of the wall slits if it weren’t for the fact that Meg was still pointing the gun at her.
“I don’t want to hear about that,” Meg cried into the phone and angrily ended the call.
“That was Russ?” Jo asked. “He’s out there?”
Meg shook her head impatiently. “He’s at the hospital. He said Kevin was getting worse.” Meg snorted. “Like I should care?”
Jo exhaled. At least Russ hadn’t somehow dragged himself to the scene. But he had found another way to participate and seemed to be trying to stir sympathy in Meg for the man she’d been married to for several years. Meg had hung up on Russ, but perhaps Jo could carry on what he had started.
“Kevin wasn’t a bad husband, Meg, was he?”
Meg scowled at Jo. “He wasn’t Pat.”
“No, of course not. But he couldn’t help that, could he? I’m sure he loved you, to want to marry you. He must have seen the same things in you that Pat did. How long did you date? Very long?”
Meg frowned but shook her head. “A couple of months. I was working at a shoe store. I hated it, and I was lonely. Kevin came along and he seemed better than nothing, which is what I had at the time.” Meg’s face contorted. “Because of Linda.”
Wanting to keep Meg’s thoughts on her husband, Jo asked, “Was this after Kevin was in the army?”
To Jo’s surprise Meg’s expression suddenly cleared. “I made that up,” she said. “Kevin was never in the army. I just wanted you to think that was how he knew that photographer.”
“I did think that. You fooled me, Meg.”
“Kevin never went to meet with the guy. He didn’t know anything about it. I just sent him out of town to pick up mulch for the yard. I fixed him coffee to take along, and put that stuff in it. I didn’t know how fast it would work or when he would actually drink it, but I figured someone would find him, wherever he ended up. And everyone would think the photographer had poisoned him.”
“That was very clever, Meg.” Jo said it as smilingly as she could manage, though inwardly cringing. Jo badly wanted to ask what Meg had put in Kevin’s coffee, but she was sure Meg would immediately shut down. At least now she was talking, and not about shooting Jo or anyone else.
“So Kevin was never in the army?”
Meg shook her head dismissively. “They wouldn’t have wanted him.”
“But he’s a decent man, isn’t he, Meg? He treated you well. He worked hard enough for you two to buy a house.”
“Pat makes beautiful furniture. He set up his own business from scratch.”
Meg’s phone rang again. Jo saw the inner struggle. Should she answer or ignore it? When it reached the fourth ring, Meg opened the phone. “Now what?” The words were impatient, but the tone was less so. Meg’s eyes suddenly grew large.
“Pat’s coming? Coming here!”
Jo wondered how Russ had managed that?
“How soon will Pat be here?” Meg asked. “Yes, I’ll talk to him. Of course I will!” Her face suddenly contorted. “If you’re lying to me—”
Jo didn’t know what Russ answered but it must have been reassuring enough since Meg’s expression cleared, though it remained wary. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’ll talk to Pat when he gets here.” She closed her phone and gazed at Jo, though Jo doubted she was seeing her at all. What expectations Meg had of the imminent appearance of Pat, Jo had no way of knowing. Nor could she imagine what the police would allow Pat to say or do. Obviously, taking off with Meg would not be included, though Jo couldn’t help but suspect Meg had delusions in that direction.
“Pat’s on his way,” Meg said.
“I heard. That’s wonderful.”
Meg smiled. She ran her hand through her hair, which the rain had plastered flat to her head. “I left my purse in the car,” she murmured, and Jo guessed she was thinking of the brush and makeup that were stowed in it.
“You look fine, Meg,” Jo assured her.
Meg looked unconvinced, so Jo added, “Pat won’t care if you’re not perfect, you know. He liked that you were down-to-earth, remember?”
“Yes,” Meg agreed, her eyes shining. “He did.” Her expression turned puzzled. “How did Linda ever get anywhere with him? She was not his type at a
ll, with her perfect hair and her painted-on face.”
Jo shrugged. “Men can be blinded sometimes.”
“Yes, that’s it. He was blinded. Linda was good at that. She fooled so many people, at least for a while. Poor Pat. How awful he must have felt once his eyes opened and he really saw who he was married to.”
“You didn’t poison Linda for Pat’s sake, though, did you, Meg? I mean, you knew by the time you killed her that they had divorced.”
“I hated her. All those years I hated her. She took Pat away from me. And then I found out at the craft show that she hadn’t even cared enough about him to keep him. It was like she took him just to hurt me. I finally had my chance to hurt her back.” Meg smiled smugly. “I was there, you know, when her throat started closing up. I watched her being wheeled off to the hospital. It was so great. I kept my fingers crossed that they wouldn’t figure out what was wrong with her until it was too late.”
“So you knew she was highly allergic to peanuts.”
“I overheard her talking about it to the school nurse. She said her sensitivity to peanuts was getting worse instead of better. I figured if that were true, by now she might be supersensitive and that maybe eating even one candy filled with peanut paste could actually kill her. It was worth a try, anyway.”
Jo remembered believing Meg when she’d claimed to be unaware of Linda’s allergy. But then Jo, and many others, had believed a lot of things about Meg that turned out to be lies. Meg seemed to have enjoyed the pretenses, as though fooling people proved how much smarter she was, rather than how devious she could be.
A voice suddenly boomed across the clearing. “Meg? Are you there, Meg. This is Pat.”
Meg whirled toward the door at the sound of Patrick Weeks’s voice.
“Pat! Is it really you? I’m here, Pat. I’m here.”
Jo saw that Meg’s face had gone through a transformation, as though she were suddenly sixteen again and her date for the big dance had finally arrived.
“Meg, they’d like you to come on out. Will you do that?”
“I can’t, Pat! Not yet. Tell them to go away first. Please? Then we can talk.”
“They won’t go away. Not until you stop threatening to shoot people. Why don’t you just throw that gun away and come on out of the barn with Miss McAllister? Okay?”
“Pat,” Meg said, ignoring his words, smiling, “I keep remembering that lake we went to on our days off from the pool. Do you remember, Pat? We’d take a picnic lunch and spread out our towels and just lie there and talk for hours. Remember that, Pat?”
“I remember.”
“And remember that time we rented a boat and rowed all the way out? And it started raining, but we stayed out anyway because then we were the only ones out there? It was like we were the only two people in the world. Do you remember, Pat?”
“Those were good times, Meg.”
“Let’s go back to that lake, Pat.”
There was a long silence, and Jo could imagine Pat looking to Mark Rosatti for guidance on how to answer. Or was Russ coaching by phone from the hospital? Where was Pat’s little daughter, Abby? Back in Marlsburg, Jo hoped, safely watched over by Shirley.
Finally Pat spoke again. “That was a long time ago, Meg.”
“No, not so long. Everything that happened since then has been erased. Isn’t it wonderful? It’s like it never happened! Linda’s gone. Kevin’s gone. There’s nothing standing between us anymore. We can be Pat and Meg again, back at the lake. The two of us, just like it used to be.”
Jo thought she heard a long sigh come from Pat. Though he’d probably dropped the bullhorn away from his face, some of his reaction still came through.
“Nothing is like it used to be,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “We’re not who we used to be, Meg. I’ve changed, you’ve changed. It’s no good.”
“Don’t say that, Pat! We are the same. We have to be! I want it so badly, Pat.”
Tears had sprung to Meg’s eyes.
“Wanting something doesn’t make it so, Meg. It’s too late. It’s all too late.”
“It’s not too late, Pat! It’s not. I don’t want it to be.”
Silence.
“Pat? Did you hear me? It’s not too late! Really, it’s not too late.” Meg’s tears began running down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them.
More silence, then Pat said tiredly, “Meg, why don’t you just come on out like they want you to? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“But I’ve been waiting so long, Pat! I came here so we could finally be together. Don’t ask me to give that up! I haven’t changed, Pat. I haven’t. Not inside, I haven’t. I promise!”
Pat didn’t answer.
“Pat,” Meg called, “are you there? Answer me! Don’t you see? It’s not too late!”
The silence drew out, magnifying the few, tiny sounds of raindrops dripping from overhead leaves.
Meg backed against the wooden door. “He doesn’t believe me. Why not?” she asked. “Why won’t he listen? How can he do this to me?” Her voice turned hollow. “I waited so long. For nothing.”
Jo said nothing, unsure what to say or do. Then, with horror she saw Meg numbly raising the gun to her own head.
“For nothing,” Meg repeated.
“Meg, wait!” Jo cried. She gestured toward one of the slits as though seeing something through it. “Patrick!”
Meg’s head jerked. She turned, and the hand holding her gun moved away from her head as she did so. Jo reacted instantly, leaping forward and slamming Meg’s gun hand against the door. A shot burst from the gun, causing Jo’s ears to ring, but the bullet flew off into the barn’s eaves. Jo struggled for the gun with both hands, leaning her shoulder against Meg, but Meg fought back, punching and kicking at Jo, then grabbing at her hair with her free hand.
“Let go!” Meg cried, yanking at Jo’s hair hard enough to snap her head back. Several of her kicks connected, but Jo managed to keep hold of Meg’s gun arm. One particularly painful kick nearly buckled her knee. Jo snapped her own foot back with all her strength at Meg’s own legs, knocking her feet out from under her.
Meg went down and the gun flew from her grasp. Jo jumped atop of Meg to keep her from scrambling after it and felt the fight suddenly go out of her.
Meg went limp. “Why didn’t you let me kill myself?” she cried. She pulled her knees up into the fetal position and buried her face in her sleeves; her words came out in a high-pitched wail between sobs. “I want to die! There’s nothing left. All I had to live for is over.”
The sobs grew heavier as Meg lay there, curled tightly, heaving.
Jo stood and limped over to where the gun had spun. She bent down to pick it up and let her breath out in a long sigh, then looked out toward the bright lights.
They could turn then off now, she thought.
It was over.
Chapter 31
Her ordeal ended, Jo was rapidly surrounded by Mark and the others who insisted she be taken immediately to the hospital. She readily agreed, though not for medical attention. Her bruises could wait. What she really needed and wanted was reassurance that Russ was all right, that he hadn’t badly strained himself while working on her behalf.
Once Mark understood that, he saw that she was escorted directly to Russ’s room—the same one she’d last visited him in, though it was not nearly as peaceful as it had been then. The room was packed with fellow police, civilians, and medical personnel, all joyously celebrating the successful end to the hostage situation.
“So this is command central, huh?” Jo called out, standing on tiptoe just outside the doorway.
Heads turned in surprise, then cheers and welcomes broke out. Arms engulfed her, hugging and propelling her slowly toward Russ, who sat propped up in his hospital bed, surrounded by equipment and people. Carrie was one of those people, and at the sight of Jo, she cried out and scrambled her way through to her. Carrie hugged Jo ecstatically, then immediately scolded her soundly for putt
ing herself in such a dangerous position.
Ina Mae, Dulcie, Loralee, and Javonne also appeared from various parts of the room to surround her, confirming Jo’s suspicions of who had been called on to help. Jo was happy to see them but began to wonder when she would reach the person she had first and foremost come to see.
Finally, she worked her way to Russ, who had been not-so-patiently waiting. He pulled her to him, and she sank against his good shoulder and pressed her cheek against his wonderfully scratchy one. They remained that way for a long time, not speaking, until Jo realized that the room had grown much too quiet. Peeking up, she saw far too many pairs of eyes focused on them, and she reluctantly pulled herself out of Russ’s one-armed but still powerful embrace saying, “Let’s resume this a little later.”
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