Page 87 of Going Once

Nola slipped into the living room, crawled up into a chair and pulled her knees up beneath her chin. They were talking about murder the way other people talked about going to the store. It was startling and frightening, mostly because her life depended on them finding this particular killer, but also because it really brought home to her that this was Tate’s life now.

She heard a car driving up out front and looked out the window.

“Cameron is back.”

“Good. As soon as we eat, Wade and I will go out to the site. Cameron can stay here with you.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to get rid of that vulture before we go, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot it off the roof myself.”

Tate shook his head. “It may be gone already.”

Cameron opened the door.

“You won’t believe what’s sitting on our roof.”

“A vulture,” the two men said in unison.

He nodded. “It’s pretty creepy, just sitting up there.”

“We’re sleeping in a haunted trailer with a vulture on the roof,” Wade muttered.

“No one is asleep, and it will fly away. Damn, I did not know you were so superstitious,” Tate said.

Wade shrugged. “I think hamburgers will cure me.”

Laughter followed, and Nola hoped it was enough to chase away lingering ghosts.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hershel didn’t go back to the Red Cross center as he’d promised. In fact, he didn’t leave the motor home at all. He was so freaked out about the vulture watching him that even after it finally flew off, he couldn’t settle down and turned on the television just to hear someone else’s voice. He tuned in right in the middle of breaking news—about him.

He sat down in disbelief. He’d barely gotten back to town and they’d already found the bodies? How the hell did that—

Breath caught in the back of his throat as he heard the commentator.

Another witness? He’d left another witness behind. He jumped up and began to pace. It still didn’t matter. Even if she’d seen his face, he’d been in disguise. But now he knew why the vulture had been there staring at him. It was a warning! He was making too many mistakes. Unless he rectified things now, he was going to die.

He sat back down and turned off the TV.

“Louise, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I need you to come back and talk to me. Please? I can’t stand being alone. Not like this.”

But Louise wasn’t talking to him. He had to make something happen, and fast. Surely the Feds would leave now to go out to the kill site. When they did, he had to make his move. He needed to plan what to wear, and how to get Nola out to the boat without getting stopped. That was going to involve getting rid of whichever agent they’d left to guard her, but without killing him. Hershel was fond of the trio. They’d been through a lot together. He didn’t want any of them dead. Just out of the way.

Now that he had a plan, he felt better. He made himself a sandwich and ate it standing up, looking out the back window. There was a back door on the Feds’ trailer. He could drive right up to the back door and take it from there.

So what if there are two witnesses, not one?

Hershel gasped. “Louise! You came back.”

I was never gone. You quit listening.

“No, no, I missed you. I was trying to hear you all this time,” he said.

No you weren’t, Hershel. You still don’t get it, do you?

“Get what? I don’t get what?”

You don’t need to kill anyone. Neither woman can identify you. Why don’t you just pack up and go home? You’re only making this worse.

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