Angels Fall

out for something else, that's all. And he's probably going to swing by and pick me up on the way back. I'm stupid. Just stupid."
    She grabbed the kitchen phone to try his cell again.
    And heard a car pull up.
    "Oh God, thank God." After slamming down the phone, she ran out of the kitchen to the front door.
    "Brody." She yanked the door open, and there was his big, burly SUV. "Brody?" she called again, nearly moaned in frustration. "Where the hell did you go that fast? I need to talk to you." At the sound behind her, she whirled in relief. She saw the blur of a fist, felt a burst of pain, then was back in the dark.
    When she came to, her jaw ached like a bad tooth. On a moan, she tried to lift a hand to it and found her arms pinned behind her.
    "Only tapped you," Rick said. "Didn't give me any pleasure to hit you. Quickest way, that's all." She struggled, a mad moment of wild panic and denial.
    "You're cuffed," he said calmly, and continued to look straight ahead as he drove. "'Padded your wrists good. Shouldn't hurt, and it'll keep any marks off your skin, most likely. That'd be best. You'll have a bruise on your jaw there, but, well, there'd have been a struggle so that's all right."
    "Where's Brody? Where are you taking me?"
    "You wanted to talk to Brody. I'm taking you to Brody."
    "Is he…"

    "He's all right. I kept a supply of those sleeping pills of yours. Gave him enough of them to put him out for a couple hours. Maybe three. Plenty of time. He's a friend of mine, Reece. It didn't have to be this way."
    "People think I'm crazy." Even knowing it was useless, she strained her wrists against the handcuffs. "But  you  have to be if you think you can just cuff me, kidnap me and drive me out of town this way."
    "In Brody's car. In the dark. Anybody saw us go by, they'd see a couple of people in Brody's car. You and Brody. That's what they'd see, 'cause that's what they'd expect to. That's the way it'll work. I'm going to make this simple as I can, quick as I can. It's the best I can do."
    "You killed Deena Black."
    "Did what I had to, not what I wanted. Same as now." He looked over, met her eyes. "I tried other ways. Tried everything I knew. She wouldn't back off. Neither would you." He trained his gaze straight ahead again, and made the turn toward his cabin. "I want you to be quiet, and to do what I tell you. You want to yell and scream and kick, you go ahead. It won't make any difference. But the more you do, the more I'll hurt Brody. Is that what you want?"
    "No."
    "Then you do what I say, and it'll be easier all around." He stopped the car, got out and came around for her. "I can hurt you, too. if I have to," he warned her. "It's your choice."
    "I want to see Brody."
    "All right then." Rick took her arm, quick-stepped her to the cabin. He gave her a light shove inside before locking the door, turning on the light. Brody was tied to a kitchen chair, his chin slumped on his chest. On a muffled cry, Reece stumbled toward him to fall on her knees beside the chair. "Brody. Oh God, Brody."
    "He's not dead. A little drugged is all." Rick checked his watch. "Should be coming out of it soon enough. When he does, we're taking a hike, and we're getting this done."
    "Done?" She shoved herself around, and hated that she was on her knees in front of him. "Do you think because you got away with killing once, you can kill both of us and no one will know? It won't work, not this time."
    "Murder/suicide's what it'll be. That's how it's going to look. You talked him into driving out this way, hiking down to where you said you saw the killing. You drugged him. Got his thermos right over there." He nodded to the end table by the couch. "Coffee in it's spiked with pills from one of your bottles. Bottle's going to be in your pocket when we find you."
    "Why would I hurt Brody? Why would anyone believe I'd hurt Brody?"
    "You snapped, that's what you did. You snapped, drugged him so he wouldn't see it coming. You shot him, then you shot yourself. You took the gun Joanie keeps in her desk drawer to do it. Your prints'll be on the gun, gunshot residue on your hand when it's done. That's the physical evidence, and your behavior  gives it plausibility."
    "That's bullshit. It's just bullshit. I've already called the state police and told them about Deena Black."
    "No, you didn't. I'm going to take those cuffs off you. It you try to run, I'll hurt you. And I'll put a bullet in Brody where he sits. You want that?"
    "'No. I won't run. Do