Chapter 46 #2
His window to kill me is closing and he must realize that because he stalks toward me and grabs my arm in a punishing grip. “Inside this pool house!” When he yanks me, he inadvertently lowers his weapon.
And I take the only opening I’m going to get. Moving fast, I palm my pepper spray and shove it in his face, already pressing the button.
Screaming in surprise, he tumbles backward at the onslaught into his eyes, falling onto the hard concrete.
Unfortunately he doesn’t lose his grip on his gun as he rolls onto his back.
So I do the only thing I can. I attack.
I’m on him like an animal. I grab onto his wrist and slam his arm down. I need the pistol. Or at least for him to drop it. The fire department and cops will be here soon. I just need to hold him off and stay alive until then.
He’s bigger than me, but he’s effectively blinded as he scream-cries in pain. Doesn’t stop him from punching me in the side, sharp and fast.
Pain explodes, making me see stars, but I manage to grab his hair and slam his head onto the concrete patio.
He howls in pain, but I see his fist moving up again.
I roll to the side, still holding on to his gun-toting arm. I’ve got to keep control of the gun.
He rolls with me, pinning me down now, and I realize my mistake too late. He’s on top, and even with tears streaming down his blotchy face he has the advantage. If I ever had one.
“You bitch,” he snarls.
I half sit up and bite him as hard as I can in the shoulder. The cops will find pieces of him in my mouth. He won’t be able to hide from the forensic evidence now, no matter what he does.
I don’t know if it’s the surprise of me biting him or the pain, but he loses his hold on me and rears back. I swing hard at his head, connecting with his temple in a sharp slam I learned in one of the self-defense classes Fallon made me take.
He rolls off me and starts puking so I move as fast as I can, ignoring the agony that seems to be coursing through me everywhere, and grab his gun.
Holding it tight, I manage to get to my feet. I limp back a few steps in case he tries to attack me. “I should shoot you right now!” I scream. I know the fire department is close. The sirens are so loud they must be at the end of the street.
He rolls onto his back, breathing hard as he stares up at me, his expression dazed. Then he laughs, the sound maniacal, and I want to bash his face in. I want him to scream and scream in agony.
“Did Cory Powell even send her those emails?” I demand.
“He made things so easy,” he rasps out. “He was so angry about being fired even though he deserved it. But he knew way too much and threatened to out me if I didn’t give him a reference.
” Ryan tries to look around, slightly rolling his head, but then he stops, his eyes still unfocused. “I’m gonna puke again,” he groans.
I need him to keep talking. “So you had to kill him.”
“Exactly.” He’s fading now, but he’s still talking.
“He got greedy so I had to make it look like he killed Cara. I don’t know if he suspected that I planted his gun, but I have no doubt he was going to tell the cops everything if they picked him up.
It was so easy to find him.” He murmurs the last part as he closes his eyes.
“Why?” I scream, desperate for the answer. I’m pretty sure I have it after what I found on Ava’s computer, but I want him to say it. “And why did you burn down their house?”
“Had to do it.” His voice is thready, uneven, his eyes still closed. “I know Cara took evidence and I can’t find it anywhere. It’s got to be here. And everyone was supposed to be gone tonight. I decided to burn all the evidence. Easiest this way.”
I have more questions, but he stops talking, his breathing unsteady, and I realize he’s unconscious.
“Drop the weapon!”
Blinking, I turn and see two uniformed cops holding their guns at me. I didn’t even hear them approach.
Garcia is also there, shoving his way in front of them. “Lower your weapons,” he snarls as he approaches me, his palms up.
I see Marcus behind the other two cops as firemen race toward the garage area. Everything is a blur right now, my adrenaline suddenly waning.
I just want to cry. And sleep for a year.
“Sloane, put the gun down.” Garcia’s voice is soft as he takes a few more steps toward me.
“He killed my sister.”
“I know.”
I want to ask how he knows, but my hindbrain is aware that now isn’t the time.
“I recorded his confession!” Marcus calls out from behind the cops, who are clearly just now realizing he’s behind them.
I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about, but his words hit something inside me. It’s over. Ryan is going to pay for what he did.
The cops turn to Marcus now. One of them is giving him orders to back up, but all I can focus on is Garcia. It’s really over. We know who killed Cara.
I feel wetness on my cheeks as I lean down, set the gun by my feet.
I don’t know what I expect, maybe cuffs or a tackle to the ground, but I find myself being hugged as an EMT runs up to start taking care of the unconscious Ryan Chatelain.
Garcia’s hold is gentle but firm as he embraces me.
“He killed my sister.” I said it before but I find myself repeating it through a sob of tears.
“He’s going to pay for his crimes. It’s over.”