Naked Prey

THE phone and ran toward the front of the church, stopped in the doorway of the TV room, and said, quietly as she could, but with urgency, “Loren Singleton’s on his way. Get up in the loft and hide.”
    The doorbell rang again and Letty, not asking questions, limped past Ruth, and Ruth went to the front of the church and peeked out the small window at the front. Loren Singleton, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind, was standing on the concrete stoop.
    She backed away. Silence was best, she thought. Then the older woman, interrupted at her prayers, called, “Ruth? Did you get the door?”
    The doorbell rang again and then the doorknob rattled,and she heard Singleton yell, “Sheriff’s deputy. Open up.”
    The older woman came out, puzzled, and asked, “What’s going on?” Ruth grabbed her by the arm, saw Letty disappearing into the loft at the back, and dragged the older woman toward the back of the church. “Loren Singleton . . . the sheriff says he might be here to hurt Letty.”
    “What?”
    They were at a window, and Ruth looked out—but there was nothing out there except a few snow-whipped buildings, hundreds of feet apart, and the plains. If they ran out the back door, and if Singleton saw them, there’d be no place to go, or to hide.
    “I don’t . . . ” she began, and at that moment, Singleton kicked in the door. He did it like a cop, a quick heavy kick at the doorknob, and the door buckled, without quite breaking clean. Then he kicked it again, and Ruth said to the older woman, “Hide. Anywhere.” She turned toward the door to confront Singleton.
    Singleton loomed in the doorway and Ruth shouted at him, “The sheriff’s coming. They just called and they know!”
    Singleton had a gun in his hand, but the message got through to him and he stopped, breathing hard, maybe thinking, and then Letty, from up in the loft, yelled, “You killed my mom, you sonofabitch.”
    Ruth’s heart sank.
    Letty added, “I shot you once and I’ll shoot you again if you don’t get out of here.”
    Singleton saw her up in the loft, and shouted, “You little . . . ” He lifted his gun hand as though he might shoot at her, and Letty shot him and he fell down.
    “Letty,” Ruth yelled. “Stop. Stop!”
    “Get up and I’ll shoot you again, you sonofabitch,” Letty yelled.
    Ruth walked carefully toward the front of the church, where Singleton was trying to roll over on his stomach. Ruth could see a gun lying on the floor off to the side. He couldn’t see her coming as he tried to push himself up, and she stepped around him and kicked the gun off to the side and waved at Letty, who shouted, “Get away from him, Ruth.”
    Singleton got his feet underneath himself, and he looked sideways at Ruth and said, “Little bitch shot me right in the stomach. God that hurts.”
    “We can get you to the hospital.”
    “Fuck that,” Singleton said. “How did you know I was coming?”
    “Your mom called, I guess. She was afraid you’d hurt somebody. Was it . . . did you . . . are you the one who hurt Katina?”
    Singleton was puzzled. “Mom?”
    “Called the sheriff,” Ruth said. “Did you hurt Katina?”
    From the back of the church, Letty shouted, “Get away from him, Ruth. Get away from him.”
    Ruth waved at her. “Did you . . . ”
    “But, Mom . . . ” Singleton was puzzled.
    “What?”
    He looked at her, his eyes rolling a little. “But, Mom . . . I mean, she did it all. She had the idea. She gave the shots to the girls. She got the money. She shot Katina . . . ” He managed to focus on Ruth, and tears started. “I wouldn’t hurt Katina. I didn’t, I didn’t . . . ”
    There was a scuffling, sliding gravel sound outside, cars pulling into the graveled lot, and Singleton pushed himself to his feet and said, “You better get out of here.”
    He pushed his parka back and slipped a service revolver out of a holster and said, “Better back away . . . ”
    She backed away and he lurched into the doorway and Letty yelled, “Watch out, watch out,” and shot him again inthe back, and he lurched forward and lifted the pistol and Ruth heard men yelling outside and Letty shot him in the back again, and Singleton pulled the trigger on his pistol once and then buckled under a volley of pistol shots, taking two steps back and falling into the church.
    Then she heard somebody shout, “Del . . . Del . . . ”
    T HE A CURA COULD go a hundred and