Knock Out
Page 114

 Catherine Coulter

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“No, don’t you move, don’t you even twitch. I will kill you if you try for your gun. You stay right there. I see your gun right beside the deputy. You throw it over here or I’ll shoot your head off. Now!”
He didn’t want to let up the pressure on the deputy’s shoulder. He saw blood was seeping from the wound on the outside of his leg, but it wasn’t bad. He said, “Lissy, I don’t want this man to die. I can’t let up the pressure.”
She laughed, then yelled, “You throw your gun over here or I’ll shoot you in the face, then I’ll put another bullet in that idiot deputy, get him out of his misery.”
Savich picked up his SIG and tossed it toward her. It landed only about three feet from the bottom of the deputy’s left boot, too far away for her to get it, but Lissy didn’t seem to notice. He kept pressing both hands on the deputy’s shoulder, fully aware he had to get some pressure on his own leg soon.
She sang out, her voice high and manic, “I got you, I got you. Now it’s you and me. You want to talk about dying, Agent Savich? Why not? I can’t wait to watch you die slow.”
“Yes, you sure do have me,” Savich said, voice low, controlled. He held himself perfectly still. “You know, Lissy, this deputy wasn’t just lost. There are deputies all around us. There could be one coming up on you right now. Fact is, you and Victor will end your spree right here, tonight. I’m thinking maybe there’s a way out for you, but then again, maybe not.”
“What way? Come on, spit it out, you bastard.” She twisted her head around, then back to him again.
“I know you’ve got Bernie Benton for a hostage already, right?”
“Yeah, we got him.”
“Fact is, he’s a very little fish, of little importance in the FBI. He’s just not enough. I’ve got juice, Lissy, everyone knows that. I’d say about the smartest thing you could do is take me as a hostage. You need me, Lissy, otherwise it’ll be all over for you and Victor.”
She laughed, clasped both hands around the gun, and aimed it right at his chest, but he saw that her eyes were more focused, more sane. “Well, now, maybe you’ve got a point there, maybe you don’t. Tell you what, you and I will take a nice hike back to Victor, see if he thinks we can use you.” She looked at the unconscious deputy. “You even tore off your shirtsleeve for this loser. I’ll tell you, I couldn’t believe it when I saw him trying to be cool, sniffing around, poking his gun into every damned bush, looking around every tree. I shot him fast, he didn’t even have time to crap himself. Then look what I bagged—the big honcho himself.” She studied him a moment as he continued to press down on the young guy’s shoulder. He heard the bewilderment in her young voice when she said slowly, “You’d have come running if I only shot an animal, wouldn’t you? I don’t understand that. They kill each other all the time.”
“Actually, Lissy,” he said, “an animal only kills for food, not for the fun of it. And people don’t leave other people lying on the ground bleeding. Except maybe Jeff, I think his name was. Your mother wanted him to help you, but he ran, didn’t he?”
Lissy shouted, “That puking creep! He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I’m glad he’s dead, glad!” Just as suddenly the mad light left her eyes and she shrugged. She tossed her head. “See, Jeff’s dead, and no one cares.” She looked at him like she was ready to put a bullet in his head.
He said, “Let me ask you, Lissy, would you come running if someone shot Victor? Or would you run away to save your own skin, like Jeff did to you?”
“Sure, I’d come running for Victor, but that’s different. He’s not some stranger out to bring me down like you and these jerkface cops. Victor loves me. He’d do anything for me. I know him. He’s like the other half of me. He thinks things through, real careful, you know?” She paused a moment, and for a second she looked oddly vulnerable. “Mama said you got to take care of number one first, or number one might just die and then what did it matter about number two or number three, or anyone else? Mama always said Victor was too sweet. Sometimes he is sweet, but not always.” She shook her head, as if focusing herself again, and scuffed the toe of her sneaker into a mess of leaves at her feet. Her eyes flicked to the deputy. “I wondered what this little twerp was doing here in the woods. You knew we were close and you called the cops, didn’t you?”
Pain flashed hot in his leg and he almost moaned with it. He’d never been shot in the leg before. It was like a searing knife was stuck in his flesh, deep and twisting now, that blessed numbing cold long gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.