Dead Silence (Stillwater Trilogy 1) - Page 92/98

Hoping to make Joe believe she was dashing off in the opposite direction, she tossed the rock toward the other side of the work shed. It skittered, then hit something with a solid clunk. But Joe wasn’t fooled. Dropping to the ground, he pointed the flashlight right in her face.

“My, my, look what we have here.”

Grace screamed and tried to scoot out the other side. But it was no use. He simply ran around the truck and dragged her the rest of the way by her hair.

“Where’s the shovel, Grace?” he said as he slammed her up against the wheel-well. “What were you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” He held her in place with his lower body, grinding his hips into hers. “The police’ll be looking. You know that, don’t you? You’re going to prison.”

“And you’re going to hell,” she said.

“Hey, be nice and I might give you one for the road.” He licked her neck, laughing when she flinched. “You can’t tell me you’re looking forward to being locked up with a bunch of women.” He rubbed against her again. “You’ve had a lot of men. Won’t you miss the ride?”

“I wouldn’t miss it a bit if all men were like you.”

Even in the dark she could see the malicious glint in his eyes. “If the police weren’t already on their way, I might be tempted to show you how much I’ve changed.”

“Are you trying to make me sick?”

Clenching one hand in her hair, he jerked her head back and bit her breast where it swelled above her shirt. But Grace barely felt the pain. She’d been waiting for an opportunity to break away from him. If she could reach her car, she could leave Stillwater behind forever, as she should’ve done in the first place. Then she wouldn’t have to face Madeline when they unearthed her father’s bones, wouldn’t have to drag Kennedy and his boys through everything to come.

She jerked her knee up, trying to hit Joe in the groin.

He sensed it coming and moved at the last second, but it changed his focus just enough that she managed to wrench away from him. She started to run, and thought she was actually going to escape, when he caught her and smacked her across the face.

The force of the blow threw Grace’s head back and left her cheek stinging and numb. But she wasn’t about to give up. She hit Joe on the bandage that covered his nose, which elicited a violent curse—and another blow to her face.

Lights flashed behind Grace’s eyes, but she still gave the fight everything she had, biting, kicking and slugging for all she was worth. She broke away once more and was at the edge of the clearing before Joe hauled her back by yanking on her hair.

He looked like he’d hit her again, and take great pleasure in doing so—but a deafening shot exploded through the air.

Clay! With a mixture of guilt and relief, Grace realized her brother had joined them.

“You have about three seconds to let go of my sister and get off my land.”

Grace’s ears rang. But she heard the hardness in her brother’s tone, knew he meant business.

Joe hesitated—but ultimately decided to gamble. “No way. Put down the gun, Clay. You can’t help her. You’re in over your head already.”

Grace stared at her brother, trying to make out the expression on his face. It was too dark to pick up on nuances, especially from ten feet away. But the absolute conviction in Clay’s stance was hard to miss.

Would he really shoot? Would they have another body to bury beside the last one?

Grace couldn’t stomach the thought of it. “Clay, don’t. Please. He’s not worth it.”

Clay ignored her. “You’re assaulting my sister. I’d shoot a man for less.”

“Clay—”

He didn’t let her finish. “I said let go of her—now!”

Joe jerked Grace in front of him, using her to shield what he could of his body. “You’re wasting your time threatening me. The police are on their way. It’s all over.”

Clay raised the gun a fraction of an inch higher, clearly aiming for Joe’s head. “Nothing’s over.”

“It will be when they find my uncle’s body,” Joe said, but his voice rose while he was speaking, revealing his fear.

“This is your last warning,” Clay said quietly. “If you don’t let go of her right now, the only body they’ll find will be yours.”

“Let go.” Grace believed it was the panic in her voice that finally convinced Joe. He shoved her away from him with such force that she nearly landed face-first in the dirt.

Clay didn’t move to help her. He was still staring down the barrel of his rifle. “I should shoot you anyway. You’re not worth a damn. Just like your uncle.”

“I knew you hated him,” Joe whispered vehemently. “Finally, you’ve admitted it, after all the lies….”

“I could tell you a thing or two about pretenses,” Clay said. “About men like you who care for no one but themselves and the dark impulses that drive them. You’re a waste of space, you know that, Joe?”

Joe lifted his hands in a defensive posture while backing away. “You—you’re the one who’s going to jail.”

“Then I have nothing to lose, right?” Clay raised his gun another inch or two.

Grace could sense her brother’s rage mounting, knew the past eighteen years had scarred him, too. The frustration, fear, turmoil and anger he’d endured seemed to be coming to a head. He’d been caught up in a situation he was too young to handle, one he’d never asked for or sought. He’d been through so much that now he cared more about vengeance than self-preservation.

Grace felt helpless to stop what was happening, but knew she had to try. She couldn’t let the police arrive to find Joe dead and Clay holding the gun that killed him. It was bad enough that they were going to find Barker.

“Clay!” she said.

“Stay out of it, Grace.”

Grace thought she saw his trigger finger tighten and hurried toward him. She paused as she reached him, dared not touch him for fear he’d pull the trigger. “Clay, put the gun down,” she said, lowering her voice to a soft plea. “For me. You’re not the kind of man to do this.”

“I think most people in Stillwater would disagree with you,” he said.

“They don’t know you like I do,” she said. “Don’t become what they’ve made us out to be. Don’t prove them right.”