Page 108 of Deathmarch

“Of course I’m taking a getaway car and not a stupid bread truck, you dumb bitch.”

“Just leave me, then. You won’t come back here anyway, right? You’re leaving town with the gold.”

“Should have gotten out years ago.”

He raised the gun.

No, no, no.

“Harper will never stop looking for you if you kill me,” Allie rushed to say. “That good life you’re picturing, drinking beer on the beach somewhere. That will never happen. You’ll be on the run for the rest of your days, looking over your shoulder every second.”

He lowered his weapon an inch or two, as if he was considering her words. But then he slowly raised the gun again and aimed it at her chest.

She froze.

She was no longer tied up, but it didn’t matter. Staring into the barrel, Allie couldn’t move a muscle.

She wasn’t Calamity Jane.

She wasn’t Annie Oakley.

She wasn’t Harper.

She didn’t have the skills to deal with any of this.

“Please, don’t,” she begged. “Like you said, you didn’t mean to kill anyone. Maybe before, you were nervous, your hand twitched. The gun went off by accident. But now… You took me from my room and brought me here. If you shoot, that’s premeditated murder.”

She watched his eyes to see if her words were working on him, holding her breath.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Do you have Allie?”

“Not yet. Mom, do you remember who put in the safe at Finnegan’s?” Harper tapped the steering wheel with impatience. He was pulled over in the parking lot of First Broslin Presbyterian, needing more information so he’d know where to go next.

To her credit, Rose Finnegan didn’t waste time by asking why he’d suddenly gone wondering about the pub. “Donovan Security.”

“Lamm’s safe had to be installed by the same people, right? I mean, how many safe-installer outfits could there be in a town the size of Broslin? What do you know about them? Anything might help.”

“Closed a couple of years ago when Ernie Donovan died.”

Harper swore, but was smart enough to do it silently. His mother wouldn’t be above threatening to wash his mouth out with soap at the next family breakfast. “Do you remember who all worked for Donovan?”

“Back when our safe was installed? Twenty years ago? Got any easier questions?” But then, after a moment, she said, “His two boys. Other than that, I think he mostly had a rotating list of part-time employees.”

“Do the sons still live in Broslin?”

“One died in a car accident on his way to the Jersey Shore years ago, head-on collision on the Atlantic City Expressway. Drunk driver hit him. Other people got hurt too. Big news story. Don’t you remember?”

“No.”

“You might already have gone back to college. It was right at the end of summer.”

Harper had no time to reminisce. “What about the other son?”

“Oh, he moved away. He got married out west. Seattle?”

“How about Donovan’s wife?”