Smoke and Mirrors

112

The freezing rain droplets pecked at Alexa’s face as she walked toward the front porch, hands cuffed at her back, a silenced gun pressed into her spine. Styer was walking behind her, Cynthia on her left. “You try and warn them, I’ll have to kill them.”

A backlit figure appeared at the window, vanished, and the door opened. Roy Bishop and a young deputy sheriff were visible just inside.

“Hello, Cyn,” Jeff said.

“Where is young Hampton?” Styer asked in character. Alexa knew they would be fooled by the purloined voice.

“Asleep,” Roy said, smiling and extending his hand to shake Styer’s. “Good to see you…” He stopped and a cloud passed quickly behind his eyes as he realized something was wrong.

Alexa didn’t feel the gun leave her back or see Styer’s hand come up until she heard the pops, which sounded like finger snaps from the.22, spaced impossibly close together. Both men collapsed, shot at close range through their foreheads.

Cynthia yelped.

Styer shoved Alexa hard from behind, and as she flew through the open front door, she tripped on Chief Deputy Bishop’s body and crashed to the wooden floor. Cynthia went past her, landing on her right side.

Without her arms free to slow her fall, Alexa’s torso and the side of her face struck the floor hard. She waited, sure Styer would shoot her, too, but he grabbed her by her coat collar and dragged her a few feet into the house before dropping her.

Kneeling beside her, Styer said, “I think my disguise fooled them.”

“Dear God, please. You said you wouldn’t hurt them,” Alexa begged.

“They didn’t feel anything. What kind of man do you think I am?”

Cynthia whimpered loudly, but Styer aimed the gun at her and she quieted.

As Styer moved over her, Alexa’s last conscious thoughts concerned Hamp and Estelle.