Kathleen screamed at the same moment Michael hurled her to the ground. Her head hit hard, her shoulder was on fire with pain. Before she knew what was happening, Michael rolled atop her, driving the air out of her from the bottom up like a toothpaste tube.
Another shot. She bucked and screamed again. Michael barked an order Kathleen didn't understand, but she figured he wanted her to be quietly hysterical She whimpered and took flash-card comfort from the fact that she wasn't alone. She didn't have long to linger over the thought. They were moving. Turtle-like Michael rose slightly and flipped her over, ordering her to high-tail it to the raised garden, the only protection within twenty yards. Breathing hard, they threw themselves toward it, rolling on their backs behind the wooden forms. No more than a foot high, there was at least enough cover to afford them a moment to think.
''Okay. Okay.''
Michael whispered as he squeezed Kathleen's hand tight. Hers shook so hard her bones seemed to rattle. His were steady, dry and strong. His breathing was even, hers came in ragged bursts. Michael's heart beat tight and fast in his chest, the proper controlled combat reaction. He could only imagine what Kathleen's heart felt like if his was thundering in his body. He rolled his head her way. The ground was hard packed and well kept. No loose dirt to blind them, only a few stones to cut them. These were good things, he would tell her that when she calmed down. She wasn't about to listen now with her cheek pressed down hard as if she could squash herself into the earth. Her eyes were covered by her hair. With his free hand Michael brushed it away.
''We're fine. We're fine. Kathleen, I need you to open your eyes.'' He put his fingers on the side of her throat, leaving them there until he could feel her breath coming in deeper gulps. The panic left her reluctantly. ''Okay, honey. Okay. That's it.''
He was careful to keep his voice lower than low. The enemy was about and every sense he had was reaching out to the world around him trying to figure out where that enemy was. When he was sure Kathleen was breathing almost normally, Michael lifted his head slowly. In another moment his eyes would just clear the wooden forms. In another second. . .
''Sarah! Sarah! Call the police!''
Michael cool under fire, jumped out of his skin and flattened himself again. Rolling over Kathleen, he clapped his hand over her mouth and slapped his cheek against hers so hard their jaw bones ground painfully against one another.
''Shut up. Kathleen, shut up, for God's sake,'' he hissed, but either she wasn't listening or couldn't respond. Kathleen's mouth worked against his fingers. ''Quiet.'' His hand tightened until he could press no harder. Her eyes flew open, big and bright, blue and horrified. ''Quiet. Okay?'' He pushed once more for emphasis. This was no game and she'd hurt a lot more if she couldn't figure out how to play it now. Whoever was out there with the gun wanted them dead. Those were shots that missed their mark, not a warning to stay away.
''I'm going to take my hand away, okay?'' Kathleen nodded. He loosened his hold. She remained quiet. He released her, letting his hand hover near just in case. Her mouth motored, lips flapping silently until she finally found a shard of a voice.
''Michael, Michael. We've got to let Sarah know we're out here. She's the only one for miles. Michael. Michael. I'm so scared. We have to tell her. . .We have to. . .''
He shook his head vehemently. Their brows as close together as they could be, their lips kissing distance. Kathleen watched those lips carefully knowing she'd go mad without focus. ''No. No. We have to figure out what's going on first. If you call to Sarah whoever is out there will know exactly where we are.'' Michael cupped her head with both his big hands and pulled it even further towards his. He smelled like dirt and sweat. He smelled almost safe. Brow-to-brow now, he closed his eyes and talked. ''They may already have Sarah. We don't know. But to save ourselves, and help her if we have to, be quiet. Please, please, Kathleen. You're with me, right? You can be brave, right? .We've got to figure out what the situation is. . .''
Michael stopped talking, primed to pounce again if he had to. Kathleen had gone rigid beneath him. Opening his eyes, Michael raised his head slightly. Kathleen Cotter wasn't looking at, or listening to, him any longer. It was the tip of a gun barrel, pressed into her temple that seemed to have distracted her. Black, doubled barreled and in good condition, it was the most frightening thing he'd ever seen. Sliding his eyes down, he saw legs, but before he could look higher, Kathleen managed one more strangled word.
''Sarah?''
The gun barrel pushed deeper into Kathleen's temple. Cautiously Michael turned his head a millimeter. Sarah Booker stood above them, holding a gun almost bigger than she was. Alice in Wonderland turned Rambo. She had the butt firm against her shoulder. If she pulled the trigger the kick might send her flying, but Michael and Kathleen wouldn't be around to see where she landed.
''Sit up.'' The barrel of her gun still leveled at Kathleen's head, Sarah stepped back slowly. That step was sure, her voice was not. ''I said sit up. Both of you.'' Michael moved, but he was too fast. The barrel swung his way. ''Slow.''
He eased off Kathleen as carefully as if she were a sleeping lover. But Kathleen didn't sleep, nor was she aware of Michael. She remained frozen in position, her mouth open, and her eyes on Sarah Booker. Michael sat on his heels, his hands in plain view. Sarah's knuckles were white she gripped the gun so hard. There was fear in her face and, sadly, determination.
''Her, too.'' Sarah was more comfortable with the situation now. Her voice didn't quaver. Neither did the gun. ''Get her up.''
Michael pulled at Kathleen, but it was like trying to move a corpse. Rigor mortis couldn't have made her stiffer. Still, he did what he had to do.
''Come on, babe. Do what she says. Come on,'' Michael murmured. Finally Kathleen was sitting beside him, her legs side-saddle. It was an unfortunate position if she needed to move quickly but it would have to do. He looked directly at their captor.
Sarah Booker was satisfied. She stepped forward once more.
''Who sent you?'' She pushed the barrel closer to Kathleen's who went cross eyed as it neared her nose. ''I want to know who sent you.''
Mutely, Kathleen's lips formed the words 'no one'. She shook her head frantically, her eyes still focused on the barrel of the gun as if begging for another chance to do better. She found her voice. ''Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. Sarah.''
Kathleen swallowed hard and then took a deep, deep breath that actually reached her lungs. She shuddered, yet instead of collapsing, she came together. Afraid still, her voice was stronger this time around and she managed to force herself to look at the other woman instead of the shotgun.
''Sarah, I'm sorry we didn't warn you we were coming. Don't you recognize me?'' Kathleen's voice started shaking. She took another deep breath. ''I'm Kathleen Cotter, attorney for Louise Booker. You were in my office. This is. . .''
''I don't care who that is!'' Sarah's scream was punctuated by a hiccup, or a sob, and this time the gun shook. Not a good sign. Kathleen closed her mouth, clamping her lips shut until they hurt. When moments had passed without anyone doing anything, Kathleen slid her eyes toward Michael. Through the dark she barely could see him, but she knew that he was looking right at her. It was hard to focus on him or know what he wanted her to do. Taking a stab in the dark, Kathleen kept talking since Sarah refused to acknowledge Michael's existence.
''Sarah,'' Kathleen began cautiously. ''I just want to ask you some questions about Lionel's work -''
A ratcheting sound stopped Kathleen cold. Even she knew Sarah had racked a round. She was going to die in the middle of a nowhere that was worse than the nowhere she'd come from. At least Banning had been her home. Now she was staring down the barrel of a shotgun, held by a crazy woman, in a forest in a canyon. Kathleen hadn't soared skyward; she'd sunk to new lows. And for what? If Sarah Booker was crazy then Lionel probably was too. Heck, Lionel probably did himself in to get away from Sarah and Louise. Two crazy women in one lifetime were enough for any man. Kathleen didn't want to die for a
man she didn't know, or because of a ridiculous law suit, and she sure as heck didn't want to die before she had a chance to really live. There were so many things she hadn't done.
Kathleen wasn't going to have a chance to make a list. She was knocked aside, her head hitting the raised wood garden frame as Michael flew past her. He was nothing more than a denim blur and he hit Sarah Booker like a torpedo while Kathleen fought to stay conscious. Sarah cried out in surprise. Michael grunted and the gun went off so close to Kathleen she was thrown backward again just as she was struggling to sit up. It was only the searing pain that screamed through her body that kept her awake enough to pray.
''Hail Mary. . .''
A great calm washed over her. Her soul was obviously leaving her body or at least her wits were fleeing.
''Full of grace. . .''
She felt almost light headed.
''Kathleen!''
Michael was shouting at her soul, disrupting her prayers.
''Kathleen! Wake up!''
No, Michael was hollering at her. She opened her eyes. She wasn't dead at all. She pressed her hands against her head, her chest. She was alive! Sore, but alive. Ecstatic, she looked at Michael and saw the blood.
''Oh, Michael,'' she wailed, but it was only his hand that was cut, it wasn't his heart that was blown out.
She looked at Sarah. A bloody bruise was beginning to swell beside her eye. Relieved that they were all alive, Kathleen bolted up only to collapse again as the world spun.
''Kathleen?'' Michael was breathing hard; it had taken more effort than he ever would have imagined to subdue Sarah Booker. He had her in a headlock, but was afraid to move. She was stronger than she looked and more defiant than he'd first imagined. It was a deadly combination. ''Kathleen? Please? Can you stand up?''
''Yes. Yes.''
She got to her feet, scraping her knee and forcing herself to focus. Her legs gave way once, but she recovered nicely while Michael maneuvered his captive. He managed to get Sarah's hands behind her, holding them painfully high and tight against her back. Sarah was disoriented and seemed to lean into Michael for support. One look in her one good eye, though, convinced Kathleen her submissiveness would last only as long as her daze.
''The gun, Kathleen. Please?''
She moved like a child eager to please and picked it up. It was heavy. She held it against her chest hoping to God there weren't any more bullets in it. Michael struggled to stand, bringing Sarah with him. They were a tumble of legs and groans and finally they were on their feet. He was huge and heroic. Sarah was small and scary. He cocked his head.
''We're going in.''
Kathleen stepped in front of them.
''No.'' He barked and pushed Sarah forward without letting go of her. ''She goes first.'' His voice softened to a mild command as they passed Kathleen. ''Just in case.''
''In case of what?'' Kathleen danced around, catching herself just as she stepped in front of them again only to fall back, talking fast from behind them.
''In case she's not alone,'' Michael growled.
''Do you think there's more? Sarah? Are there any more people who want to hurt us?'' Kathleen scurried forward. She hopped and skipped beside the other woman, dipping her head to look into her eyes. She held the shotgun away even though Sarah couldn't have scratched her nose if she wanted.
''Get back,'' Michael ordered and Kathleen fell into line, still talking.
''Sarah. Sarah, is there anyone in the house?'' No response. The tiny woman stumbled. Kathleen reached for her instinctively only to pull back hard. She was learning the fine art of caution. Sarah righted herself with Michael's help and glared silently at Kathleen as she stumbled on. ''Sarah, what on earth were you thinking? Why would you want to do this? If there's someone in that house, tell us now. Don't let this go any farther.'' Kathleen half hip hopped alongside as they made their way to the house. Sarah was unmoved so she appealed to Michael as they went. ''Michael, tell her. Did you notice no one came? Did you notice that? Nobody came to see what the shots were about. We should call the police.''
They were at the porch now. Michael helped the taciturn Sarah up. Her head moved from side-to-side. Michael tightened his hold knowing flight was on her mind. The last place he wanted her was in the woods. With Kathleen's chatter providing background music, Michael kicked at the door. It opened easily and he cleared the threshold, pushing Sarah ahead of him as far as he dare. Relieved when nothing happened, he pulled Sarah Booker up tight against his chest. Her head barely reached his shoulders. Using his heel he shoved the door shut as soon as Kathleen was in. Putting his lips close to Sarah's ear, they stood in the dark, an unlikely intimate group.
''Is there anyone in here? Anyone!'' He pulled up tight until he thought he might break her shoulder. He heard a sharp intake of breath, but no cry of pain. She was a tough cookie. Sarah shook her head and closed the eye that wasn't already swollen shut. Michael gave her a beat more to change her mind then raised his head. ''Turn on the lights, Kathleen. Stow the shotgun.''
''Okay. Okay. Lights. Lights.'' Rushing forward she slammed her shin into something hard. ''Ouch.'' She hopped about, caught sight of Michael's rigid silhouette and remembered her charge. ''Forget it. I'm okay. Okay. Lights.'' Off she went again.
Using her free hand like a blind woman she searched the space in front of her. Silence. Then a triumphant, hysterical giggle came along with a click. All three blinked though the bulb wattage on the table lamp was low. Kathleen stood back, beaming at her success. One look at Michael and her pride faded. She wasn't finished. Hugging the shotgun, Kathleen cut a wide berth around Michael and Sarah and opened the first closet she found. Brooms, brushes, detergent. Gun. She put the gun neatly alongside the dust mop and closed the door.
''Here you go, Mrs. Booker.'' Michael tossed Sarah on to a small overstuffed chair that had seen better days. He pulled up a straight backed one for himself, straddled it, shook his head and glanced at his bleeding hand before looking at her. ''That was quite a welcome you gave us. Let's talk, Sarah. What about it? You do that to everyone who drives up after five?''
Quietly Kathleen moved beside him though she still stood apart. This wasn't a movie. Michael didn't exactly have the time to sweep her into his arms for comfort so she wrapped her own around herself and did her best to help.
''Sarah, we didn't come here to hurt you. We only wanted to ask you some questions. We heard something about Lionel that we'd like to clarify. Sarah?'' Kathleen's voice lowered an octave. ''It's not about money, Sarah. We're not going to take your house. It's about the kind of man Lionel was. We know he probably didn't do drugs.'' Kathleen winced as Sarah tried to open both eyes to cast a look of anger at the mention of her husband's name. She failed miserably. Kathleen moved forward a step. ''A lot of people admired Lionel, but one of those people said that he'd been upset at work just before he died. We just want to know what had upset him. That's all. That's really all we came for.''
Sarah Booker's long hair fell in curtains over her as she lowered head. One angry eye could still be burning with hatred and suspicion. The blood around the other was drying. Kathleen reached out to push Sarah's hair back but she jerked away and nailed Michael with her Cyclops vision.
''Who is he?''
Kathleen stepped back and put her hand on Michael's shoulder. ''This is Michael Crawford, Sarah. Lionel's supervisor.''
Before the last syllable was out of Kathleen's mouth, Sarah Booker went nuts. She bolted, fast as a newt. She zipped past them swerving like a quarterback. Michael was on her heels. Her hands were on the closet doorknob where the gun was stashed, but Michael was taller and stronger. He reached out above her head and slammed the door shut before she could get inside. Thwarted, Sarah spun away from his grasp and headed to the front door.. A standing lamp was thrown behind her in a defensive move. Michael fell over it. He wasn't happy.
''Sarah, wait!''
Kathleen sprinted around the end table after Sarah but not fast enough to keep the fron
t door closed. Sarah flung it open, her hair flying as she looked over her shoulder at her pursuers but freedom just wasn't in the cards. Sarah Booker was flung back into the room, pushed hard by someone reacting to the surprise of a body hurtling out the door just as they were reaching for the bell.
Stunned, everyone stopped: Sarah to lay on the floor her arms, legs and hair splayed out around her, Kathleen froze mid-stride and Michael stopped as he opened his mouth to howl in outrage. They all stared at the open door and then Louise Booker stepped into the living room, grinned and gave a Miss America wave. Her nails were lapis. Rod Stewart was the guest rocker.
Sarah Booker had beautiful china. It was old and hand painted with lilacs. Another time, Kathleen would have asked its history. Another time Kathleen would have actually enjoyed fixing tea and sitting in this little house in the canyon, surrounded by trees, settled in for a long chat over a warm cup. As it was, she was cranky and dirty and not a little unhappy that Louise was standing in Sarah Booker's kitchen, too.
''Gerry told me where she lived. What's the big deal? My horoscope said 'make peace and financial gain will be yours'. It was a sign, Kathleen. Besides, I thought I could just talk to her a little, you know convince her woman-to-woman to tell me anything that might help this case. If she would, I was going to just drop the whole nonsense against the estate, and then she wouldn't have to worry about her future.'' Louise scratched her head, nail tips only. Kathleen's eyes narrowed. The Pinocchio move. ''Whatever future she had, that is. . .'' Kathleen huffed.
''I was doing just fine, thank you. I was doing what a responsible attorney would do. I was methodically gathering information and following up leads.'' She yanked open the pine wood cabinets, found the tea and put the tin on the counter before turning to look at Louise. ''You weren't coming to talk to her at all. You were going to browbeat her and she could have sued the pants off you, Louise. Where are your brains? Not only that, that woman could have killed you.''
Character Witness Page 20
