Second Honeymoon Part 75

Chapter 117

AT THE SOUND of the shot, Ken's cap went flying. Then he got the message and went down on the ground. Then he was crawling away, then running.

As I dove behind the nearest headstone, I felt a hot sting through my calf. Ned had no intention of missing me twice.

"Drop it!" I suddenly heard.

I'd barely scrambled to my knees, ready for a good old-fas.h.i.+oned standoff, when I turned to see Ned and his Browning Hi-Power Mark III pistol. He must have sprinted from his hiding place in order to reach me so fast.

Slowly, I dropped my Glock to the ground. After he gave it a swift kick across the wet gra.s.s, Ned turned and smiled.

"Well, if it isn't John O'Hara," he said.

I faked a smile in response, spreading my palms. "The one and only."

That made him chuckle. "Good one," he said. "Clever."

"Unfortunately, not as clever as you."

"Very true," he said. "Although I give you credit for getting this far."

The odd thing was, he actually seemed sincere about that. As motivated as he was by revenge, it was as if he still wanted a fair fight. Hence his clues; the way he'd been almost testing Sarah and me.

"How'd you know I'd be here?" I asked.

"I'd be lying if I said I knew for sure. But I guess I knew the same way you did. Math."

I didn't follow.

"It's called a Fibonacci sequence," he continued. "When the next number in a series is always the sum of the two numbers that precede it. Five, eight, thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four. In a way, it's the premise for all deductive reasoning."

I stared up at Ned, listening to his every word. Take away the gun aimed at my chest and he could've been giving a lecture back at UCLA. Where was the anger? The hatred of me? He was calm. Too calm. I couldn't find an opening.

"It's really a shame," I said, shaking my head. "You know, what might have been."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll bite," he said. "What do you mean?"

"I know what happened when you and Nora were children, the whole terrible story. Even how your mother took the blame for you."

"So?" he asked. It was his first twitch. His quick blink that told me time didn't heal all wounds.

"So imagine what might have been had your father not been a monster," I said. "How different your and Nora's life would've been."

"Don't forget about your life, too," he said. "Or what remains of it." He motioned to the b.l.o.o.d.y gra.s.s beneath my knee. "How's your leg doing?"

"Don't worry; I'll live," I answered.

He chuckled again. "Another good one," he said. "I bet you made my sister laugh, too. Before you killed her."

Chapter 118

NED STARED DOWN at me. His jaw drew tight, and his arm stiffened behind his gun.

"I didn't kill her," I said. "No matter what you think, it wasn't me."

"You're lying!" he fired back. "No matter who it was, you're the one responsible. If it wasn't for you, she'd still be alive."

Maybe he was right about that.

I glanced at his Browning pistol, the rain beading against its black epoxy finish. "So how come you haven't shot me?" I asked. "Since I deserve it so much."

"You deserve this, too!" Ned wound up his right leg, his instep landing across my ribs. As I toppled from my knees, rolling on the ground in pain, all I could think was one thing.

So far so good. Better to be kicked than shot dead.

"Gee, I'm sorry," said Ned sarcastically. "Did that hurt?"

I pushed up on my hands so I could look him in the eyes. And then I forced a smile. "Is that all you've got?"

I was pretty sure I heard a rib crack as Ned knocked me again with all he had, which was plenty. He was stronger than he looked. And angrier.

But I was begging for more. "C'mon, mama's boy, show me what you can really do! Nora seduced you, didn't she? She did the same thing to me."

Ned aimed higher this time, his foot coming across my face. Whack! Thump! I was back on the ground again, curled in a fetal position. My hands were inches from my ankles.

I could feel the swelling around my left eye, the lid collapsing shut.

Through my right eye I watched as Ned backed up for a running start. It was as if we were playing a game of kickball and I was the ball. His entire focus was on delivering more pain.

That's it, Ned, let it all go. The anger, the hatred...

Your hands.

They'd fallen to his side, his pistol by his waist, pointing down instead of at me. Finally, and for only a split second, the game had changed.

Now I was the one a step ahead, with a math equation of my own.