[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
her moving expenses. She'd had money in the bank to fall back on, a father she could have turned to if
need be.
To a degree, people like Trudy Pruitt were trapped.
Now she was dead.
"According to what Trudy told me, most of the citizens fell in like sheep. They were frightened of what
Cypress Springs was becoming, only too happy to head back to church, rein in their behavior or spy on
their neighbors if it meant being able to leave their house unlocked at night."
"What about her? She didn't fall in line with the rest."
Gwen's expression became grim. "I don't think she knew how to be any different. And...I don't think she
felt any motivation to change. She hated this town, the people. Because of her boys."
"But she didn't say anything about them? About their deaths, Sallie Waguespack's murder?"
"Nothing except that they didn't do it. That they were framed."
"How about Tom? Did she say anything about him?"
"I asked. She didn't know anything about him but what she'd read in the paper. She told me she didn't
have a doubt The Seven killed him."
"He hadn't interviewed her?"
"Nope. She found me, actually."
Avery pulled to a stop at a red light. She looked at Gwen. "Did she say who The Seven were?"
"No. She said revealing that would get her dead."
She got dead anyway. The light changed; Avery eased forward.
The square came into view up ahead. "Drop me at that corner," Gwen said.
"You're sure? I could park around the corner, give you a hand cleaning up?"
"It's better this way. The less possibility of us being seen together, the better."
Avery agreed. She stopped at the next corner. "Call me tomorrow."
Gwen nodded, grabbed the door handle. "What's next?"
"I'm not sure. I need to think about it. Lay out the facts, decide which direction to go."
Gwen opened her car door and stepped out. Avery leaned across the seat.
"Gwen?" The other woman bent, met her eyes. "Be careful."
She said she would, shut the door and walked quickly off. Avery watched her go, a knot of fear settling
in her chest. She glanced over her shoulder, feeling suddenly as if she was being watched, but seeing
nothing but the dark, deserted street.
But they were out there. The Seven, their spies. A killer.
Being careful wasn't going to be enough to keep either of them safe, she thought. Not near enough.
CHAPTER 39
The Gavel stood alone in his dark bathroom. Naked. Trembling. He stared at his reflection in the mirror
above the sink. The man who stared back at him barely resembled the one he knew himself to be.
He was sweating, he realized. He pushed the hair off his forehead. He leaned closer to the mirror. Were
those tears in his eyes?
He stiffened, furious. He wasn't a child. Not some weak-bellied girl who fell apart anytime the going got
tough. He was the strong one. The one whose will, whose determination, carried them all.
Without him, Cypress Springs would have been lost. They all would have been lost.
He bent, splashed his face with cold water, then straightened. Rivulets of water ran over his shoulders,
down his belly, beyond. He breathed deeply through his nose. His chest expanded; he felt the oxygen
feed his blood, the blood his muscles. He swelled in size, stature.
He smiled. Then laughed. They didn't understand. His eyes
were everywhere. While his generals scurried pathetically about, he saw everything, knew everything.
Did they think he didn't hear them whispering to one another, exchanging furtive, knowing glances?
Making their plans? His enemies, it seemed, were growing in number. Rage welled up in him. Those he
trusted turning on him. Those he had turned to for support indeed, for love planning his demise. He
had given his life for them. The things he had done, the chances he had taken that he continued to
take to make their lives, their world, a better place. All he had done for them. Was absolute loyalty too
much to ask for in return? He narrowed his eyes. Apparently so. And for that, they would pay dearly.
This was his town. He was their leader. Nothing and no one would change that.
Not Gwen Lancaster. Not Avery Chauvin. Tonight, he had stood in the shadows and watched as the
two women formed an unholy alliance. One of Cypress Springs's favored daughters had proved herself
an outsider. And traitor.
A spear of sadness pierced his armor, he fought it off. The urge to open his arms again, to forgive.
Forget. Such emotions were for the weak. The self-indulgent. The unencumbered. None of those applied
to him.
His every instinct told him to silence Gwen Lancaster, do it quickly, before she caused more damage. But
there were rules to be followed, a proven system to be adhered to. To willfully ignore either would be a
step toward anarchy.
It only took one, he thought grimly. One spoiled fruit. One self-indulgent individual on a misdirected
campaign.
How was it that only he had great resolve? Why had he been cursed with this perfect vision? This
absolute knowledge? He had been born to lead. To show others the way.
It was lonely. He longed to turn from his gift, his call, but how could he? He opened his eyes each day
and saw the truth.
He didn't enjoy killing. He had hoped, prayed, that each of those found guilty would take his warning to
heart. His lips twisted. But they had been stupid. Ignorant and small-minded.
Liar. Killing the last had been a blessing. A pleasure. The woman had left him no other option. Meeting
with outsiders, calling insiders. She had forced his hand. She should have been silenced years ago. He
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]