Page 127 of The Killing Plains

Satchel was crying harder now and had begun to squirm. His feet clattered against the plywood siding of the pen. The snakes, agitated by the noise, began to rattle angrily.

Satchel’s movements sent the red balloon bouncing erratically into Brenda’s face. “Hold still,” she snapped, thrusting the balloon into his arms. Sobbing, he clutched it against his chest like a security blanket.

While Brenda was distracted, Colly managed a furtive glance at the figure by the wall. It was Russ. A gun was in his hand. Their eyes met, and he nodded.

Brenda’s tussle with Satchel had repositioned her so that her back was now to Russ. Colly took a step closer. “I’ve gotta hand it to you—those masks were the perfect red herring.”

“I got the idea from Niall. He talks in his sleep.”

“You mentioned that on Monday, but it didn’t click for me till today. Did you steal them from his place?”

Brenda shook her head. “I bought them online. I knew if Willis was convicted a second time, he’d get the death penalty. No governor would dare release him again, even if he was a Newland.” Brenda adjusted her grip on Satchel. Her fingernails bit into his arms. “I didn’t plan to kill Willis—it’s not something I enjoyed doing. It just kind of happened.”

Colly stared at her. “You—you killed him, too?” she stammered. “The ME ruled it an accident.”

“Itwasan accident—sort of. I slipped away from Iris’s birthday party to put the masks in his cabin. That’s all I meant to do. But when I got there, I saw him in his herpetarium, and I realized how easy it would be to get a rabbit out of the hutch and just—just toss it in.” She pantomimed the action with her free hand. “That snake of his would take care of things.”

At this, Russ stopped short. He swayed against the wall for a second before recovering himself and pushing forward. Outside, Colly heard the low rumble of thunder.

“The perfect murder,” she said, keeping her eyes on Brenda. “Only one problem—Willis was innocent. He didn’t kill Adam Parker, and he didn’t molest Dave Carroway. He didn’t do anything to anyone.”

Brenda blinked. “You’re lying. I saw his brain scan myself.”

“Brain scans don’t make serial killers—look in the mirror if you need proof of that.”

“This conversation’s pointless. You’re like everyone else—talk, talk, talk. What good is that? Someone has to have the guts to do what’s necessary.” As she spoke, Brenda slipped one arm beneath Satchel’s legs and lifted him higher.

He shrieked, and Colly’s breath caught in her throat. “Brenda, don’t.”

“I’m sorry. He’s got all the signs—incontinence, pyromania, antisocial behavior. I wasn’t totally sure till he killed Minnie’s hamster last night. That was the last straw.”

“You can’t be totally sure—you haven’t done a brain scan.”

“You’ve forced the issue. I’ve got no choice now.” Brenda hoisted Satchel onto the plywood wall of the snake pen as he flailed and screamed. The slightest nudge and he would topple in.

“Satchel, hold still. Brenda, for God’s sake—he’s seven.”

Russ was now fifteen feet behind Brenda. Though still by the wall, he could reach her in three quick strides. Colly silently willedhim to stay where he was, afraid that any sudden movement would spell disaster. She needed a distraction, something—anything—to buy time.

“Brenda, listen.” She took another tentative step forward. “You don’t want to do this. It’sSatchel. Remember when Victoria got pregnant in high school and said she wanted to keep the baby? You were the first person I called. I was freaking out, and you said if we supported her decision, we’d be glad of it later.”

Brenda was listening, her eyes dark and distrustful. Satchel had grown still, though he was crying quietly.

Colly sidled nearer. “That night, I told Randy what you said. It took him a couple months, but eventually he got excited about being a grandpa. And you were right. Satchel’s such a great kid. I can’t imagine life without him.” She edged closer.

Out of the corner of her eye, Colly saw that Russ had moved away from the wall and was beginning to inch towards Brenda from behind. He was ten feet away, eight feet away. But she didn’t dare wave him off. She could only pray that he would follow her lead.

Keeping her focus on Brenda, she slipped her gun into its holster and held up her hands. “We’re just talking, Bren. I’m not going to hurt you. And I know you don’t really want to hurt Satchel.”

He had stopped crying and was staring intently at her, sniffling and hiccupping quietly. Colly took another step. Three feet more, and she’d be close enough to touch him. It took all her willpower not to reach for him now. She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Of course I don’t want to hurt him,” Brenda said hoarsely. “If you think I do, you haven’t been listening.”

“I am listening, Bren. I know you’re not a bad person. You’ve had a stressful few years, and you’ve gotten a little confused.”

Russ was now five feet behind Brenda. He looked like a cat crouched to spring.

Oh, shit, oh shit, Colly thought.It’s now or never.“Let me help, Bren. Just give me Satchel.”

---