Page 99 of Outsider

The sense of betrayal crushes me. A dump truck of lead raining down on top of me. I stare at her, trying to get my mind around the breadth and width of it. How could I have been so blind?

“Cuff her.” Mercer tugs zip ties from his coat, tosses them to Gina. “Hurry up.”

She catches the ties with the hand of her uninjured arm and starts toward me.

“Check her for weapons,” Mercer says. “We need to get out of here before Bertrand shows up.”

She starts toward me, her eyes level on mine. “Give me the .38.”

“It’s not too late to end this,” I tell her.

“The gun, Kate.” She doesn’t wait. Leaning close, she reaches around me, slides the .38 from my pocket.

Across the room, Mercer crosses to the pay phone, picks up the handset, and yanks the armored cord from its nest, rendering it useless.

Gina snaps open the cylinder, shakes out the spent cartridges. “Turn around. Hands behind your back.” Her gaze flicks from me to Mercer and back to me. “Play it cool and you get to walk away,” she says in a low voice. “Marry Tomasetti. Have a bunch of kids. Live happily ever after.”

“Does Bertrand know about you two?” I ask.

One side of her mouth curves. “He knows what he’s been fed.”

She loops the tie around my left wrist, draws it tight, reaches for my right hand. In the next instant, the door explodes inward. In my peripheral vision I see Mercer spin, the stainless-steel phone cord still in his hand. Gina swivels, steps back.

Bertrand enters, boots heavy on the floor. Snow on his coat. The Glock in his hand. Even from twelve feet away, I feel the tension pouring off him.

His eyes sweep from Gina and me, landing on Mercer. I see thoughts ticking in his brain. Suspicion in his eyes. Something niggles at the back of my own mind. Something important I overlooked.

“What the hell is this?” Bertrand says.

“She’s going to take us to the cash,” Mercer says.

Bertrand doesn’t move. He shifts the gun to Gina. “Where is it?”

“Pull that trigger and you won’t see a dime,” she tells him.

Dark amusement plays at the corners of Bertrand’s mouth. The pistol tracks to me. Level with my chest. His finger inside the guard.

I step back, raise my hands to shoulder height, zip tie dangling from my wrist. “She’ll take you to it. I owe her. I’ll cover for you.” It’s a stupid thing to say; no one believes a word. But fear is a concrete block dropped into my stomach. My brain is misfiring. There’s no way they can let me live.

The tension expands. Like the air an instant before a bomb blast.

“Sheriff’s department is on the way,” I say.

“Do her,” Mercer snaps. “Let’s go.”

Abruptly, Bertrand swings around to face Mercer.

“Don’t!” cries Gina.

Bertrand fires three shots. Mercer staggers sideways, snarls something unintelligible, spittle flying. Blood blooms on the front of his coat. He sways, sinks to his haunches, then falls forward. For a heartbeat span we’re in a vacuum. No sound or light or movement. No one breathes. Then Gina chokes out a strangled sound. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her rush to Mercer, fall to her knees.

“Ken!” she screams.

Bertrand swivels to me, raises the Glock, glances over his shoulder at Gina. “She’s next,” he roars. “Where’s the cash?”

A thousand thoughts rush my brain. Run to the door, try to get out before he shoots me in the back. Grab Mercer’s weapon. Charge Bertrand and hope he misses. All of it jumbled by fear and the knowledge none of them will work. I’m out of options and at the mercy of a psychopath.

Heart hammering, I jam my hands higher. “I know where the cash is!”