The Bone House - Brian Freeman [136]
Gathering her courage, Tresa bolted from her hiding place. 'Detective!'
He didn't look surprised to see her. 'Tresa, are you OK?'
'Yes.' She saw ribbons of blood on the detective's neck. 'You're hurt.'
'I'm fine,' he said, but his face was ashen. 'Where's Mark Bradley?'
'He's in the campground. We were hiding from Troy.'
'What the hell is Troy doing here?'
Tresa hesitated, but she was done hiding and pretending. 'He came here to kill Mark. I tried to stop it, but I've made a mess of everything. I don't know what to do.'
Cab put an arm around her shoulder. 'Come on, stay with me. We have to find them. Troy isn't our only problem right now.'
He pulled her along the fringe of the beach, but Tresa stopped and held Cab's arm. 'Wait.'
'What is it?'
She tried to breathe. She tried to get the words out.
'I know who killed Glory,' Tresa told him.
* * *
'Troy, you stupid ass,' Reich snapped. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'
Troy shrank like a wilted flower in front of the sheriff. The boy opened his hand, and the gun dropped to the wet ground of the cemetery. It may as well have been on fire. 'I just - I mean, I thought I could make things right for Glory, you know?'
'You?'
'Yeah. I thought if no one else could stop him, then I could.'
The sheriff marched so close to the boy that he was practically in his face. 'Then do it already,' Reich told him.
Troy cocked his head in confusion. 'What?'
'Shoot the fucker.'
Mark wasn't sure he'd heard the words come out of Reich's mouth. Reich wasn't joking. He was dead serious. When Troy stood frozen in disbelief, Reich squatted and retrieved the gun and stuffed it back into the boy's hand. Like a robot following orders, Troy turned back toward Mark, but he could barely hold the butt of the gun steady. Panic and fear made his entire body quake.
'Do it,' Reich ordered him. 'You pussy, get something right for once in your life. We'll ditch your boat, and you can go hide in my basement, and we can figure out what to do with you. We're going to have to get you seriously lost.'
'Sheriff, what are you doing?' Mark asked.
'Shut up, Bradley. I'm waiting, Troy. Pull the trigger. Do it now.'
'I don't - I don't think I can,' Troy murmured, his voice broken.
Reich stepped in front of Troy impatiently and stripped the gun out of the boy's hands. 'Like I thought, no balls. Jesus, what a waste.'
'I'm sorry.'
'Get the hell out of here,' Reich told him.
'Where do I go?' Troy asked plaintively.
'My truck is on the highway. It's parked off the shoulder a hundred yards east of here. Climb inside and stay out of sight. Stay right there until I get back, got it? Do not move.'
Troy did as he was told. He ran, tripping over the ground like a clown, through the cemetery, land. He never looked back. Reich followed Troy's progress until he couldn't see the boy anymore, and then he re-aimed Troy's gun at Bradley's chest. Unlike Troy's wobbly hand, Reich's grip was solid and assured, and his arm was rigid.
'Now it's just you and me, Bradley,' Reich said.
'Sheriff, are you out of your mind?'
'Where's Tresa?' Reich asked.
'I don't know. She ran. Sheriff, if this is a joke, it's not funny.'
'It's no joke.'
Mark could see that it wasn't. Reich's intentions were deadly.
'Why are you doing this?' Mark asked.
'Because as long as you're alive, people are going to keep digging up ghosts. Once you're gone, you can take the blame for everything. If you'd died in that car accident like you were supposed to, the case would already be closed.'
'I can't believe you'd kill an innocent man,' Mark told him.
'I've killed plenty of men. They were innocent. You're not. Don't bother pleading for your life. I'm fresh out of mercy.'
'I didn't kill Glory.'
'Now you're just making me mad,' Reich growled.
'I don't care. I didn't do it.'
'Pete knew you were a liar.'
'I didn't kill Peter Hoffman either.'
Reich