Jenny shook the photo in Maya's face. “You're in love with him, aren't you? And he probably said he loves you, hasn't he?”
Maya hesitated a moment too long and Jenny crumpled up the photo and threw it on the floor.
“He did. I can tell. He thinks you're his soul mate. He wants you to have his babies.”
Maya shook her head back and forth, saying “No” again as she inched toward the poker. She nearly had her hand around it when Jenny pulled a handgun from her pocket. Maya went completely still.
“Whatever,” the crazy woman said in a dull tone as she waved the gun in Maya's face. “Everything will be better once you're gone. Once all of you are dead. You should have died yesterday, in the truck. Then I wouldn't have to do this.”
“You still don't have to do it, Jenny,” Maya said. “I can help you. I can tell my boss the fire was an accident. I can tell the Forest Service it's impossible to determine how it started. I'll give you money, enough to get you out of the country and make sure you never need to work again.”
“You could do all that for me?”
Hope flared in Maya's chest. “Give me five minutes on the phone. That's all I need.”
Jenny chewed on her lower lip. “Um, no thanks. I think it'll be more fun to kill you instead.”
Maya shivered at the delight in the woman's voice. At this point, a mental institution was a far likelier future home for Jenny than a prison.
“But before I do, I need you to help me with something,” Jenny said. “Out on the back deck. I've got two dozen containers of gasoline waiting.” She shoved the butt of the gun into Maya's spine. “Go.”
Maya slipped her hand in her pocket, grabbed the ballpoint pen, and spun around, lashing her weapon at Jenny's eyes. The tip of the point struck Jenny in the neck, just below her ear.
Jenny screamed, “You're going to pay for that, you little bitch,” and as Maya lunged for the fireplace poker, Jenny threw herself on Maya's back, scratching at her hair.
Tears of pain filled Maya's eyes as Jenny ripped a thick wad of hair from her scalp and dug her gun in deep between Maya's ribs.
“Maybe I should just kill you now,” Jenny hissed.
No. Maya had promised Logan she'd be here waiting for him when he returned. He'd be back soon with Joseph in tow and together they'd find a way to thwart Jenny.
She needed to hold out—and stay alive—until then.
“I'm sorry,” she ground out. “I'll do whatever you want. Tell me what you want me to do.”
Jenny lay across Maya for a long moment, long enough for Maya to wonder if the last thing she was going to hear was the gun's release. But then Jenny shifted her weight off to the side. Pushing Maya into a standing position with her gun, Jenny shoved her out the door.
A row of gas cans was waiting for them. “Start on that side and work your way back to me.” She massaged one bicep with her free hand. “Lighting Logan's house on fire was hard work. I should probably go to the gym more often.”
Maya saw red. This bitch had killed a hotshot and all she cared about was lifting weights? “How could you do it?” she asked in a low voice.
She wanted to launch herself at Jenny and wrap her hands around her throat, but a moment's satisfaction wasn't worth a bullet in her chest. She wanted to be alive to witness Jenny's life sentence, to watch the handcuffs clip into place over her bony wrists.
Jenny didn't reply as she shoved the gun into Maya's breastbone. “Get to it, already. I'm working the afternoon shift and I don't want to be late.” She shoved Maya back to work with the gun's cold metal barrel.
After everything she'd done—after everything she was about to do—Jenny was worried about clocking in late to work? But then, hadn't she served them their sandwiches yesterday, knowing that Robbie was in critical condition in the hospital, knowing she'd likely killed him with the explosion?
Maya's hands were numb as she picked up a heavy gas can and hefted it over to the far corner of the house.
“Don't try to run,” Jenny warned. “I'm a great shot.”
After everything Jenny had done so far, Maya didn't doubt it. She possessed a strange group of talents for a waitress, and clearly could have done so much more with her life if she weren't so deranged.
Maya's heart clenched as she uncapped the can and started pouring fuel onto the redwood decking and shrubs surrounding Joseph's cabin. Logan had grown to manhood here, had started his life anew in this house. It wasn't enough for him to lose one home today, Jenny had to take everything from him in one fell swoop.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” Jenny's words were carefree and happy as she watched Maya do her sick bidding, liberally sprinkling fertilizer pellets in her wake.
“No,” Maya said. “This is a horrible thing to do.”
“Actually, if anyone ever asks, I'm going to tell them that I tried to stop you from setting dear Joseph's house on fire. He was such a sweet man, after all.”
Maya was this close to throwing the empty red gas can at her. Silently, she completed the atrocious task, her shoulder and arm muscles burning from picking up so many cans of gas. All that mattered now was staying alive as long as possible. She prayed Logan was on his way back.
“Now for the really fun part,” Jenny said when Maya was done. “Here's a box of matches. Start lighting.”
Maya's eyes widened. With this much fuel on the dry grass, and with the wind blowing a gale, even one match could instantly combust and burn her. “You're crazy.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Guys sometimes say that, but it's just because they can't handle a girl like me.” She jammed the gun into Maya's skull, making her wince. “Start lighting.”
Maya's hands trembled as she lit the first match. Silently asking for forgiveness, she threw the match against the house. A path of fire lifted off the grass and goose bumps of horror covered her flesh, head to toe.
“I can't do this,” she said, backing away from the house.
She heard Jenny c**k the gun. “Sure you can. Especially since it doesn't look like lover boy's coming back any time soon to save you. He and Joseph are probably already dead.”
No, Jenny was wrong. Logan was alive. She'd know if he was dead, would feel it deep in her bones, in the center of her heart.
Maya hesitated a moment too long and Jenny crumpled up the photo and threw it on the floor.
“He did. I can tell. He thinks you're his soul mate. He wants you to have his babies.”
Maya shook her head back and forth, saying “No” again as she inched toward the poker. She nearly had her hand around it when Jenny pulled a handgun from her pocket. Maya went completely still.
“Whatever,” the crazy woman said in a dull tone as she waved the gun in Maya's face. “Everything will be better once you're gone. Once all of you are dead. You should have died yesterday, in the truck. Then I wouldn't have to do this.”
“You still don't have to do it, Jenny,” Maya said. “I can help you. I can tell my boss the fire was an accident. I can tell the Forest Service it's impossible to determine how it started. I'll give you money, enough to get you out of the country and make sure you never need to work again.”
“You could do all that for me?”
Hope flared in Maya's chest. “Give me five minutes on the phone. That's all I need.”
Jenny chewed on her lower lip. “Um, no thanks. I think it'll be more fun to kill you instead.”
Maya shivered at the delight in the woman's voice. At this point, a mental institution was a far likelier future home for Jenny than a prison.
“But before I do, I need you to help me with something,” Jenny said. “Out on the back deck. I've got two dozen containers of gasoline waiting.” She shoved the butt of the gun into Maya's spine. “Go.”
Maya slipped her hand in her pocket, grabbed the ballpoint pen, and spun around, lashing her weapon at Jenny's eyes. The tip of the point struck Jenny in the neck, just below her ear.
Jenny screamed, “You're going to pay for that, you little bitch,” and as Maya lunged for the fireplace poker, Jenny threw herself on Maya's back, scratching at her hair.
Tears of pain filled Maya's eyes as Jenny ripped a thick wad of hair from her scalp and dug her gun in deep between Maya's ribs.
“Maybe I should just kill you now,” Jenny hissed.
No. Maya had promised Logan she'd be here waiting for him when he returned. He'd be back soon with Joseph in tow and together they'd find a way to thwart Jenny.
She needed to hold out—and stay alive—until then.
“I'm sorry,” she ground out. “I'll do whatever you want. Tell me what you want me to do.”
Jenny lay across Maya for a long moment, long enough for Maya to wonder if the last thing she was going to hear was the gun's release. But then Jenny shifted her weight off to the side. Pushing Maya into a standing position with her gun, Jenny shoved her out the door.
A row of gas cans was waiting for them. “Start on that side and work your way back to me.” She massaged one bicep with her free hand. “Lighting Logan's house on fire was hard work. I should probably go to the gym more often.”
Maya saw red. This bitch had killed a hotshot and all she cared about was lifting weights? “How could you do it?” she asked in a low voice.
She wanted to launch herself at Jenny and wrap her hands around her throat, but a moment's satisfaction wasn't worth a bullet in her chest. She wanted to be alive to witness Jenny's life sentence, to watch the handcuffs clip into place over her bony wrists.
Jenny didn't reply as she shoved the gun into Maya's breastbone. “Get to it, already. I'm working the afternoon shift and I don't want to be late.” She shoved Maya back to work with the gun's cold metal barrel.
After everything she'd done—after everything she was about to do—Jenny was worried about clocking in late to work? But then, hadn't she served them their sandwiches yesterday, knowing that Robbie was in critical condition in the hospital, knowing she'd likely killed him with the explosion?
Maya's hands were numb as she picked up a heavy gas can and hefted it over to the far corner of the house.
“Don't try to run,” Jenny warned. “I'm a great shot.”
After everything Jenny had done so far, Maya didn't doubt it. She possessed a strange group of talents for a waitress, and clearly could have done so much more with her life if she weren't so deranged.
Maya's heart clenched as she uncapped the can and started pouring fuel onto the redwood decking and shrubs surrounding Joseph's cabin. Logan had grown to manhood here, had started his life anew in this house. It wasn't enough for him to lose one home today, Jenny had to take everything from him in one fell swoop.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” Jenny's words were carefree and happy as she watched Maya do her sick bidding, liberally sprinkling fertilizer pellets in her wake.
“No,” Maya said. “This is a horrible thing to do.”
“Actually, if anyone ever asks, I'm going to tell them that I tried to stop you from setting dear Joseph's house on fire. He was such a sweet man, after all.”
Maya was this close to throwing the empty red gas can at her. Silently, she completed the atrocious task, her shoulder and arm muscles burning from picking up so many cans of gas. All that mattered now was staying alive as long as possible. She prayed Logan was on his way back.
“Now for the really fun part,” Jenny said when Maya was done. “Here's a box of matches. Start lighting.”
Maya's eyes widened. With this much fuel on the dry grass, and with the wind blowing a gale, even one match could instantly combust and burn her. “You're crazy.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Guys sometimes say that, but it's just because they can't handle a girl like me.” She jammed the gun into Maya's skull, making her wince. “Start lighting.”
Maya's hands trembled as she lit the first match. Silently asking for forgiveness, she threw the match against the house. A path of fire lifted off the grass and goose bumps of horror covered her flesh, head to toe.
“I can't do this,” she said, backing away from the house.
She heard Jenny c**k the gun. “Sure you can. Especially since it doesn't look like lover boy's coming back any time soon to save you. He and Joseph are probably already dead.”
No, Jenny was wrong. Logan was alive. She'd know if he was dead, would feel it deep in her bones, in the center of her heart.
