Kathleen Creighton - Lady Killer

“What idea? Lonnie, what did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” He swiped at the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand, the one holding the gun, then gestured with it toward the cougar’s compound. “It was that damn cat…”

Drugs, Brooke thought. Either that, or dead drunk. For one moment she wondered if she could reach him in time to knock the gun out of his hand, but, of course, it was an insane idea. He’d still be able to overpower her, and what then? What would happen to Daniel and Hilda-and Lady-then?

“See, Dunk had this idea, how he was gonna show you were an unfit mother because of havin’ a dangerous animal on your place. So he could get custody of the kid, right? So he was gonna make it look like the cat got out of its cage and killed a bunch of your livestock, and that would prove it was a danger to the kid.”

“My God…” Brooke felt numb, couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was no sound from Daniel, either.

Lonnie went on. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt! Okay? He had it all planned. He knew you had a tranq gun, so if anything went wrong, you know? That’s why he wanted me to meet him here, so I could be his backup. But then the damn stupid cat wouldn’t come near the gate!”

“She was afraid of Duncan,” Brooke said softly, but Lonnie didn’t seem to hear her.

“So then Dunk, he decides to go in the cage and chase the cat over here. He had a key to the gate. But he thought she’d be afraid of the gun, so he gave it to me and told me to cover him. We’d left our service weapons in the vehicles-couldn’t shoot the cat with department issue weapons, figured that would raise up too many questions, kind of defeat the whole purpose, you know? So anyway-” he gestured again with the gun “-Dunk gets about halfway out there, out in the middle of the pen, and the cat’s up there on those rocks, there, and she starts screamin’, making that god-awful sound. And Dunk just stops in his tracks. Like he was frozen.”

“Dad was afraid of Lady,” Daniel said, and Brooke marveled at how calm, how grown-up he sounded.

“Yeah, well…he shoulda been.” Lonnie sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his gun hand. “The cat was starin’ down at him, like she was gonna jump him, and he started backin’ up, and next thing I know, he’s runnin’ back toward the gate, and the cat’s runnin’ after him, and Dunk’s yellin’ at me, ‘Shoot it! Shoot it, dammit!’”

Lonnie was pacing up and down now, back and forth in front of the fence.

“Only I can’t shoot, because Dunk’s in my line of fire, see? Then-it all happened so fast. One minute Dunk’s zigzaggin’, so I figure I’ve got a clear shot, and the next minute he’s lookin’ at me, and he’s got a damn dart stickin’ out of his neck. And he’s yellin’ at me, why’d I shoot him instead of the cat? And I’m yellin’ at him why’d he zig back into the line of fire, and…the next minute his knees are bucklin’ up, and he’s down on the ground, kind of flopping and flailing his arms around. And before I could do a thing, that cat was right on top of him, and she grabs ahold of his shoulder. Like this.” He demonstrated, clutching himself at the bend of his neck and shoulder. “I got the tranq gun up, but before I could get off another shot, the cat takes off back up into those rocks. So, I went over to see about Dunk, see how bad the cat got him, and…he’s just lyin’ there, starin’ up at the sky, and he’s not breathin’!”

“So you…you just left him there?” Brooke had never felt such rage. She could feel Daniel’s body shaking with sobs. Tears were running down her cheeks, too, but she barely knew it.

Lonnie’s face contorted with anguish. “No! ’Course I didn’t. I-he was bleedin’-you know, from where the cat bit him. And then the blood quit comin’, and I knew his heart had stopped, so I started CPR, you know? But it wasn’t any use. I could see that, and I figured you were gonna be comin’ home any minute, so I took the tranq gun and got the hell outa there. Well, hell, Brooke, I couldn’t leave it behind, could I? Not with my prints all over it.”

“So you left Duncan there for Daniel to find. And for me to get blamed for killing him. My God, Lonnie, how could you? He was your friend.”

He waved his arms wildly, crying again. “Well, hell, how do you think I feel? He was like my brother, had been since we were in first grade. It wouldna happened if that freakin’ cat hadn’t come after him like she done. What was I s’posed to do, Brooke? You tell me. What was I gonna do?”

Brooke never knew what she might have answered. She never got the chance.

In the next instant she saw Lonnie’s face change, his eyes snap into focus and harden as they looked past her. “I know what I’m gonna do now,” he said, and she saw his chest expand as he drew breath. The gun came up, held steady in the lawman’s two-handed grip.

She jerked herself around to look where he did, shot through with adrenaline. And there, on the other side of the fence, only a few yards from where they stood, was Lady. She had come silently, stealthy as only a panther on the hunt could be. Her head was low, her shoulders hunched, and her golden eyes burned with a predator’s stare…focused…intent…and aimed straight at Lonnie.

It all happened at once: Daniel jerking away from her, free of her grasp, his cry piercing her soul; his name, her son’s name, ripping through her throat, tearing her throat like a lion’s claws; Hilda’s snarl as she lunged, breaking Brooke’s grip on her collar; the clang of a heavy body hitting the chain-link gate; the deafening sound of a gunshot only a few feet away.

Then, in silent slow motion: Lady streaking off across the compound; Hilda staggering a few broken steps before crumpling in a heap of fawn-and-white fur; Daniel on his hands and knees, sobbing, scrambling through the dirt to reach her side; Lonnie lurching drunkenly, slowly bringing the gun around, searching for a target. And from out of nowhere, a big, powerful body hurtling through the air, hitting Lonnie with a flying tackle that knocked him flat on the ground.

Tony never knew how he managed to cover the distance between the barn and the cougar’s fence so quickly. He’d never been a great one for speed-more the offensive lineman type than running back. But in the end, even what was surely a personal best for him wasn’t enough.

Through a reddish haze, images jerking and shifting as he ran, he saw the drama unfold. Saw the man bring his arms up, and the gun clutched in both of his hands. Saw Brooke turn, and first Daniel, then Hilda throw themselves at the gunman. Then he heard the shot, and all thought stopped.

As he launched himself through the air, he heard a guttural sound, a bellow of rage he’d never imagined could come from his throat. He was a primitive being, governed by instinct and adrenalin. This man was his enemy, threatening everything he loved. He wanted to kill.

His body collided with that of his enemy with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs and carried them both to the ground, but he felt no pain whatsoever, only triumph, and a kind of primal pleasure. He felt his enemy struggling beneath him, and his flesh was in his hands, and he was pounding, squeezing-

“Tony-no-please! Tony!”

It was the only sound that could have reached him through the roaring rage filling his head. Brooke’s voice. He stopped, breathing hard, and his hands went slack. He felt her hands on his shoulders and turned his dazed eyes to her.

“Tony, Hilda’s been shot. Daniel needs us. Please, Tony…”

“Okay. Yeah.” He shifted his weight off Lonnie, who lay quietly now, except for the sobs that were shaking his whole body. Keeping one hand planted between the deputy’s shoulder blades, Tony grabbed first one of Lonnie’s wrists, then the other, and brought them together behind his back.

“Get his cuffs,” he said between gulps of air, and Brooke’s strong hands were there, unhooking the deputy’s handcuffs from his belt. He took them from her and clipped them onto Lonnie’s wrists, and as he stood up, then looked down at the man on the ground, he thought he understood the primitive urges that had motivated his distant ancestors to take the scalps of their vanquished enemies.

“Tony.” Brooke was tugging at his arm. He looked at her and saw that she was crying. “He shot Hilda. I need your cell phone. He threw Daniel’s somewhere. I don’t know where…”

“Help’s already on the way.”

And he was bending over Daniel, who was kneeling beside the dog’s body. The boy had taken off his shirt and had it wadded up and was holding it pressed to her side. His hands, the shirt, and the dog’s fur were wet with shiny red blood.

Daniel turned his face up to him, and it was tear streaked but calm. He spoke rapidly, breathlessly. “The bullet missed her heart. She’s alive, and she’s still bleeding. But it might have punctured a lung, ’cause she’s having trouble breathing-see? We have to get her to the hospital right now.”

Tony dropped to one knee and got his arms under the dog’s body. “Okay, son, keep pressing on the wound, okay? I’m gonna lift her now…” He managed to get to his feet with his burden and threw Brooke a look as she stood hovering, eager to help. “I swear, she weighs more than you do,” he muttered, and she gave a helpless whimper of laughter and clamped a hand over her mouth.

“We’ll take my car,” he gasped as he and Daniel began making their way toward the barn, shuffling awkwardly sideways with their shared burden. He nodded at Brooke. “You drive-keys are in it.”

She nodded and ran.

Behind them now, Tony could hear Lonnie squirming and struggling on the ground, grunting with his efforts to free himself from the handcuffs. Tony discovered he no longer gave a damn.