“It’s gone far beyond that now,” Sally said, stepping forward.
Reverend Hal Vorhees immediately raised his gun higher. “Listen, to me,” Sally went on. “Everyone knows that James and the other agents are here. They’ll mow you down. Another thing, they’ll dig up every grave in the cemetery and they’ll find out those are all the missing people reported over the past three years. It’s all over. Please, be reasonable about this. Give it up.”
“Shut up, Sally,” said Hunker Dawson. “All of you, enough of this bullshit. Let’s go.”
“Yes, sure thing, Hunker,” Quinlan said. They had
more time. How much more, he had no idea. But even one more minute meant hope.
They walked like condemned prisoners in front of the mob. He was aware of the unreality about the whole situation even as he felt fear seeping deep into him.
Quinlan said over his shoulder, “What will you preach on this Sunday, Hal? The rewards of evil? The spiritual high of mass murder? No, I’ve got it. It’ll be the wages of trying to bring justice to people who were brutally murdered for the amount of cash they carried.”
Quinlan staggered from the blow on his shoulder.
“That’s enough,” Gus Eisner said. “Just shut up. You’re upsetting the ladies.”
“I’m not upset,” Corey said. “I’d like to pull out all your teeth and listen to you scream.”
“I don’t have any teeth,” Hunker said. “That ain’t a good punishment for this group.”
What to say to that? Quinlan thought and winked at Corey. She looked furious. Thomas was walking on his own, but Corey was helping him. His arm wasn’t bleeding so much now, but the blood loss was taking its toll, that and shock.
Sally was trudging along beside him, looking pale and very thoughtful. He said out of the side of his mouth, real low, so maybe all those old people wouldn’t hear him, “Hold up, Sally. We’ll figure out something. Hell, I could take at least a dozen of the old guys, no problem. Could you pound the old ladies?”
That made her smile. “Yeah, I could pound them into the dust. But I want to go back and get Amory St. John. They just left him and Amabel there, James, both of them. They’ll get away. My aunt, well, I don’t know, but she’s not quite the aunt I’d hoped she was.”
An understatement, Quinlan thought. Another blow for her, another person she’d believed she could trust had betrayed her. Thank God her mother had come through for her. He thought he just might come to like Noelle St. John a lot in the future. If he had a future.
Quinlan said, “Maybe the calvary will arrive before St. John and your aunt get their wits back together and can get away. But even if they do escape, we’ll get them sooner or later.”
To Quintan’s surprise, they were herded up the wide, beautifully painted white steps and into Thelma’s Bed and Breakfast. He guessed he had thought they’d be taken to the Vorheeses’ house.
“I’ll be damned,” Quinlan said as he got a poke with a rifle, shoving him into the large drawing room. There was Thelma Nettro, sitting on that chair of hers that looked for all the world like a throne. She was smiling at them. She was wearing a full mouth of false teeth and her pumpkin peach lipstick.
She said, “I wanted to join in the fun, but I just don’t get around as well as I used to.”
There was Purn Davies sitting on one of the sofas, looking white and shriveled. Good, Corey had whacked him hard.
“Why are we here?” Quinlan asked, turning to Reverend Hal Vorhees.
“You’re here because I wanted you here. Because I ordered my people to bring you to me. Because, Mr. Quinlan, I’m going to tell you all what we’re going to do with you.”
They all stared at Martha as she moved from behind Thelma Nettro’s chair. There was nothing soft and bo-somy about her now. There were no pearls around her neck. Her voice was loud and clear, a commander’s voice, not her gentle cook’s voice announcing an incredible meal. Jesus, Quinlan thought, what was going on here?