Page 150 of The Five Year Lie

“Yes,” I say, because I have no choice. “But guess what?” I pickup Buzz’s stuffed shark. “Sharks don’t like loud noises. Would you take him in the closet for me?”

He gives me a tearful nod. “Okay.”

“Good boy. Look—the light in here is automatic.” Staying low, I carry him to the closet door and open it. The light flickers on. “See? If it gets dark, all you have to do is wave your arms and it will light up again. Now, you sit down.”

He plops into the center of the rug.

“If I tell you to, close the door, okay?”

He nods.

“Now whistle something for the shark. So he isn’t scared.”

When I turn my back, I hear him start a shaky tune.

I scurry to the bed and peer underneath. As promised, the only thing under there is a rope ladder. The top of it is strung through a steel bar that’s wide enough to catch on either side of Jay’s windows.

As I drag it out, we hear another gunshot.

“You have to look outside,” Buzz insists.

“Only if you stay there.” But he’s right. I have to look. I can’t stand not knowing. “Donotmove,” I say to Buzz. Then I crawl across the wood floor toward the windows, bringing the rope ladder with me. I tuck myself into the corner of the room and rise to my feet. Then I risk a glance outside.

What I see makes my heart stop. Jay has moved away from the safety of the house. He’s hiding behind a wheelbarrow. As I watch, he makes a dash for a small shed thirty or forty paces from the house. There’s another blast, and the wood splinters just as he ducks behind it.

Then there’sanotherblast, from inside the house, and I can’t seeits target. But Jay’s strategy seems to be drawing the intruder away from the house, while Woody tries to pick him off from inside.

He’s using himself asbait.

I slump down into the corner, panicked. My backpack is here, though, and I plunge my arm inside, looking for my phone. And when I don’t find it, I upend the bag and stare at the mess of its contents.

But of course my phone isn’t here. It’s a thousand miles away.

I can’t dial 911.

I can’t even think.

Woody’s voice grows suddenly louder. “Second perp! White... male or female. West perimeter, just south of the driveway...”

I pop up again, afraid to look but also afraid not to. Something moves right below me, and my insides seize up.

It’s a man. I can’t see his face under the hat. But I don’t miss his gun.

Then he pivots and shoots right into the first floor of the house. I hear the distant sound of glass breaking, and then an angry curse from Woody.

“Mama,” Buzz gasps. “Do something!”

“It’s okay,” I say stupidly. Nothing is okay. I watch the shed. Jay’s shadow is visible on one side. The shooter advances two steps, and I can’t even breathe.

“Watch your six!” Woody yells. “Fuck!”

I hear another gunshot—a more distant one. But there’s a loud thump from the shed as Jay’s shadow jumps in a sickening way.

The shadow flails and then holds still.

“Talk to me, Marker!” Woody barks.

Oh my God.I bite down so hard on my lip I taste blood.