After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 187

“But no one was supposed to die!” Allie yelled.

“Oh, get real. You set it up. You were the one who planned the shooting on the set. You just needed me to do the dirty work.”

“I talked about it,” Allie said. “I didn’t mean for it to actually happen.”

“Then why did you disappear?”

Good question, Cassie thought, pulling herself up, wanting to strangle both of her siblings, the murderer and Allie, freaking Allie who had let everyone believe she was dead.

Upward she climbed through the darkness, dragging herself, the dust from the silo suffocating, her own breathing and pounding heart making listening to the conversation impossible. Only a few more rungs.

“Fuck!” one of the women said, the other one, not Allie, the familiar but unnamed voice. “Do you hear that? Sirens! What the fuck did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Cassie was close to the top now, the half-light spilling into the silo’s shaft just over her head.

“But the cops! Oh, shit!”

Blam!

A gunshot fired, rocking the building. Cassie nearly lost her grip, but she clung on, her lower body swinging off the ladder for a heart-stopping instant. She had to clench her jaw to keep from crying out. Agony ripped through her shoulder and she squeezed her eyes shut, willed her body back and forced her toes to find a rung.

A long, low moan ripped through the building.

She thought of Trent. No, it couldn’t be.

But her fear drove her upward.

Fighting the pain in her shoulder, dragging herself upward, rung by rung she climbed. She had to make it! She had to get to him! At the opening, she peered through and, saw a body on the floor. Her heart collapsed. Was it Trent? Allie?

Standing over the wounded person her back to the opening was a woman, while holding a gun pointed at the already wounded victim. Jesus God, the shooter was Allie, her victim Laura Merrick! With the hideous mask half-on, half-off her face, Laura writhed on the floor and groaned in agony. Allie aimed her gun at Laura’s ever moving forehead, as if she were planning to shoot her literally right between her eyes.

No!

Cassie coiled, then sprang, propelling herself through the opening and rolling, knocking Allie off her feet. The gun went flying, skittering across the floor.

Lithe as a cat, she pounced on the gun, then rolled over and agilely hopped to her feet. The girl who had once been a nerdy bookworm, then a famous Hollywood star and then a ghost, vanishing without a trace was now a cold-blooded killer?

“Allie?” Cassie whispered as her sister pointed the gun at her. “Allie!”

Allie’s hands wobbled. Her eyes were wide, her expression cold.

“Don’t shoot!” Cassie yelled. “Allie!”

Ashen faced, thin as a rail, her eyes hollow, as if she didn’t recognize Cassie, Allie hesitated.

“Allie, it’s me. Cassie. Your sister.”

Heavy footsteps thundered toward them, but Allie didn’t seem to hear, just stood over Cassie.

“Drop it!” Shane’s voice boomed through the room. “Allie Kramer! Drop your weapon.” Then his voice softened. “For the love of God, what happened?” His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping, and for a second Cassie witnessed his pain. He’d thought of Jenna’s daughters as his own. As quickly as his bewilderment appeared, it disappeared and he slipped back into his lawman persona once more.

In a daze, Allie looked away and in that instant, Cassie sprang. She ripped the gun from her sister’s fingers. Without thinking she threw the damned weapon through the opening to the silo. “What the hell are you doing?” she thundered raging at her sister. “You idiot! We all thought you were dead!”

“I am,” Allie said, as if she really were a zombie.

“What? Don’t give me that!” Cassie roared, incited.

“Cass, it’s okay.” Shane tried to step in.

But Cassie wasn’t finished. “Where have you been? Huh? Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking for you forever. People have died! What were you thinking? Damn it, Allie, were you really going to kill me?”

“Little Sister,” Laura whispered. Blood drizzled from the corner of her mouth, the mask still halfway on and she was pale as death. Sirens screamed. They were so close they sounded as if they were inside the damned barn.