through him with greater force and more speed.
He kept expecting to hear another shot and to be knocked forward into
the boxes and newspapers. But he climbed laboriously to his feet and
turned around to find the doorway empty, the madman gone.
Clutching his shoulder with his good hand, blood bubbling between his
fingers, he started across the room. He was halfway to the hall door
when he thought it would be a good idea to have some sort of weapon
before he went looking for the man. But what? He turned around again
and looked at the stack of junk, saw just what he needed. He went back
and picked up a four-foot-long, three-inch-wide board from a broken
wooden packing crate. Three long bent nails protruded from one side of
it. It would do. Again he turned toward the doorway and crossed the
room.
Those eight steps seemed more like eight hundred. By the time he had
taken them, he needed to stop and rest. His chest was tight, and his
breath did not come easily. He leaned against the wall just inside the
door, out of sight of anyone in the second-floor hallway.
You’ve got to do better than this, he told himself, closing his eyes to
block out the dizzying movement of the room. Even if you do find him,
you won’t be able to stop him from doing whatever he pleases to Courtney
and Colin. You can’t be this weak.
It’s shock. You were shot. You’re bleeding. And you’re suffering from
shock. Anyone would be. But you have to overcome it soon, or you might
as well sit down and bleed to death.
Leland pulled the tape off her mouth and touched her bloodless lips.
“It’s all right now, Courtney. Doyle is dead. We don’t have to worry
about him. It’s just you and me against everyone.
She was unable to speak. She was no longer the golden girl, but was as
pale as milk.
“I’m going to let you up now,” he said, smiling. “If you’re good, that
is. If you behave yourself, I’ll untie your feet and hands-so that we
can make love. Would you like that?” She shook her head no.
“Sure you would. On the first level, toward the back of the house, a
window broke and crashed across a bare floor.
“It’s the police,” she said, not knowing for sure who it was, wanting to
frighten him.
He stood up without untying her. “No,” he said. “It’s the boy.
How could I have forgotten the boy?” Perplexed, he turned away from the
bed and started for the door.
“Don’t hurt him!” she cried. “For God’s sake, leave him alone!”
Leland did not hear her. He was able to fully perceive and think about
only one thing at a time. Right now, that was the boy. He had to find
the boy and kill him, eliminate this last obstacle between himself and
Courtney.
He left the master bedroom, went down the hall to the stairs.
When Alex heard the glass shattering downstairs, he thought that Colin
must have brought help. But then he remembered that the front door was
standing open. Why would anyone not use it?
He knew, at once, that Colin had not gone for help. Instead, the boy
had taken the pistol from the glove compartment, the pistol Doyle had
not remembered at the right time. Colin had distrusted the open front
door and had gone around to the back of the house to find a way in. He
was coming to the rescue all by himself. It was a very brave thing to
do.
it would also get him killed.
Doyle pushed away from the wall just as Courtney screamed, and he nearly
tripped over his own feet in surprise. She was alive!
Of course, he had been telling himself that she would be okay-but he had
not believed it. He had expected to find a corpse.
He turned toward the door to the hall just in time to see the madman
reach the top of the stairs and start down.
in the master bedroom down the hall, Courtney screamed again.
“Don’t hurt him!
Don’t kill my brother too!”