She glanced over her shoulder toward the front door, which was also standing open. It couldn’t shut, not with Starkey slumped in the entry. She didn’t think he was dead. Fortunately. Eyes closed and hands pressed to his chest as if he could stop the blood from pouring onto his leather cut, he seemed to be concentrating on surviving. She wanted to go to him, or at least offer some words of comfort to let him know that help wouldn’t be long in coming, but she couldn’t give herself away. First, she had to find Rafe.
Where was the damn ambulance? Why couldn’t she hear it?
Because it’d only been a few minutes since she’d called and it had to come from Douglas. Shit!
A slight breeze stirred the drapes at the slider and sent the wind chimes on her porch tinkling. Under the cover of that sound, Sophia crept farther into the room to confirm that it was, indeed, empty. Feeling much safer, she double-checked that shadowy alcove—the only place a full-grown person could hide in the living room besides the coat closet, which she also checked—and headed for the bedroom.
Her room was just as empty. But the bathroom door was closed. And there were two bullet holes in it.
Unable to stop herself any longer, she called out. “Rafe? Are you in there? Are you here?”
“Sophie?”
She almost couldn’t believe it when he answered. He was in the bathroom. “It’s me,” she said. “Come on out. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be okay.”
The lock clicked and, a second later, the door opened very slowly. Only after Rafe actually saw her did he forget all caution and hurry toward her. “Someone tried to break in!” he said.
She set her gun on the bed so she could hold him. “Who was it? Do you know?”
“Leonard Taylor.”
“You’re sure?”
Rafe nodded. “He came by earlier, too. He was talking to me as if he and my dad are friends. But they’re really not. And then he came back. This time, he didn’t say a word. Not at first. Just kept messing with the door, trying to unlock it.”
“Where’d he get the key?”
“I think he saw me put it back under the frog earlier. But the lock was sticking. He had to wiggle it.”
“And you heard him.”
“Yes. I locked myself in the bathroom, but after he got in he started banging on the door, telling me you’d been in an accident and asked him to come and get me. But if that was true, why didn’t he say so when he was trying to unlock the front door?”
Rafe took a deep breath. “He said you were going to die. I was so afraid it was true I was gonna come out. But I guess I wasn’t fast enough ’cause he screamed that he was in a GD hurry and I’d better open the door or he’d kill me. He tried to break the door down. When that didn’t work, he started shooting.”
At last Sophia heard sirens. Thank God! “How was it that he didn’t hit you?” she asked, hugging him closer.
“I was lying in the tub.”
“Good for you. You’re so smart, bud!” He’d already been living by his wits for a long time; she supposed that helped. He was a tough kid. But should she let him see his father? Starkey might die. It would be gruesome for a fourteen-year-old to see that, especially as a result of violence. But he had the right to say goodbye, didn’t he?
Sophia had just decided to break the news to him when a telltale creak and the glimpse of a dark shape in her mirror made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
Rafe screamed as she turned. But the horror on his face had already told her what was happening. There, in the doorway, stood Leonard. He must’ve been out in the backyard. Must’ve heard her call out to Rafe and come inside to finish the job. Perhaps he was so determined to put an end to her that even self-preservation couldn’t overcome the impulse.
“Leonard, listen.” Hoping for a way to get hold of her gun on the bed, she pushed Rafe behind her. “Don’t be stupid. Can’t you hear the sirens? A sheriff’s deputy will be here any minute. You kill us and you’ll get the death penalty.”
“I’m going to get your job. That’s what I’m going to get. That’s what I should’ve gotten six months ago.” He lifted his gun, aimed. Looking at the intent expression on his face, Sophia expected to be hit by a bullet any second. But there was another noise, this one from directly behind him.
Flinching, Leonard whirled around, giving Sophia just enough time to dive for her gun. Then everything went into slow motion. Leonard put a second bullet in Starkey, who was coming after him with one last surge of effort, growling like a bear. And she fired right afterward, hitting Leonard once, twice, three times.
No way would he get up and come after them again, she told herself.
And he didn’t.
30
The inside of Stuart’s house resembled something out of the old TV Western Bonanza. Even the wallpaper that ran from the chair railing to the burgundy-colored carpet appeared to be made of leather, or simulated leather, and had big brass decorative thumbtacks holding it to the wall. The wood-framed paintings, hung against a green background, were all of horses and cowboy scenes. And the few pieces of art that sat on various accent tables were brass sculptures—bucking broncos and the like.
Although Rod didn’t care for most of it, he admired the furniture, which was constructed of rough-hewn logs and Navajo-blanket-covered cushions. The antler lighting fixtures weren’t bad, either. Had Stuart stuck with rustic instead of veering into 1960s Western chic he might’ve been onto something. Regardless, it was quite obvious that he’d spent a lot of money on his place and was proud of it. No matter what their relationship had been like in life, Rod felt the tragedy in the sheer permanence of his half brother’s death. Stuart would never walk into his house again.
Bruce emerged from somewhere in the back. After he’d shown Rod inside, he’d gone to retrieve whatever it was he wanted to show him. What he brought back looked like a box full of keepsakes for a scrapbook, or maybe the contents of someone’s files or desk. “What’s all this?” he asked.
“I found it in the closet of Stuart’s office.”
“When?”
“Just a few hours ago.”
“Why were you going through his office? I heard Sophia tell you not to come in here. That the police would have a better chance of solving his murder if you left this place alone until the FBI’s forensic techs could go through it.”