The Night Killer Part 26

He walked away. Liam called after him.

"Sheriff, you can't expect to get away with this."

Diane heard the doors closing as Conrad walked up the stairs.

"Well, what's this?"

The voice behind her was slurred. She only now really noticed the drunken, urine stench of the place. Her mind immediately started going over her inventory of weapons-her high heels, her hands, her knowledge of anatomy.

She turned to find the three men watching her, their stares set behind drooping eyelids, their faces colored by bad habits of long standing. The one who spoke was a thin guy not much taller than Diane's five- nine. He was red faced and had stringy hair and yellow teeth. Diane didn't want to know what his clothes were stained with. The three of them gaped at her. They were everything her worst fears might conjure up for images of backwoods, small-town drunks in lockup. The man behind the talker was huge. He had a heavy padding of blubber over his entire upper body, most of it in a substantial beer belly. He had a scraggly red beard, a shaved head, and a leering grin. The last man stood off from the other three. He was tall and thin and grinned broadly. He was rubbing his crotch, tilting it toward Diane.

"What you in for, honey? Honey?" said the first man.

They all laughed at his joke and started coming toward Diane in a slow sashay.

"Elbows are sharp, heel of hand is strong," said Liam, talking fast. "You know where the pain points are. Throats and noses are vulnerable. Solar plexus on the thin guys."

The first guy was almost to Diane. She was shaking and he laughed at her.

"Throat or nasal," said Liam.

The guy's breath was disgusting. He reached his arms in a circle as if to embrace Diane. She punched him straight up under the chin with more strength than she thought she possessed. The man staggered back.

"Then again, an uppercut is good," said Liam.

Diane's heart was pumping so hard she could barely hear what Liam was saying from the blood rus.h.i.+ng in her ears, but she knew he was trying to give her instructions. The rush of adrenaline through her system flooded out some of her fear. The guy was still staggering and shaking his head, disoriented. With all her strength, Diane punched him hard twice, a double tap, in his brachial plexus, a branch of nerves in the shoulder that power the arm.

He let out a howl and staggered back, clutching his right shoulder. The other two watched him flop down on the bottom bunk, whimpering.

His hurt was temporary and Diane was afraid she was going to run out of strength if she had to fight all of them twice. But for now, she could still feel the adrenaline surging through her.

"Thorax punches won't work on the big guy," said Liam.

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?" the guy who had been rubbing his crotch asked Liam, marching up to the bars, glaring at him.

Liam reached suddenly through the bars, grabbed the waist of the guy's jeans, and jerked him into the bars. The guy hit his head on the cell bar and collapsed. Liam held on as the man slid to the floor. Liam grabbed his feet and pulled them through the bars, and with two quick, devastatingly crus.h.i.+ng kicks, broke both the man's ankles across the bars.

"He's out," said Liam.

The big guy looked around wide-eyed at his other friend. "s.h.i.+t, whad'ya do that for?" he said. "Ya could of just laid back and watched the show. Little honey missy here's going to pay for that."

He looked back at Diane, who was trying to stay out of his reach. She'd taken off her four-inch heels and held one in each hand. She'd thought of pulling one of the bunk beds out to try to keep it between her and him, but they were bolted to the floor. He eased toward her. She guessed he was playing cat to her mouse, wanting to draw out her fear. It was working.

He was too big and he had a layer of fat covering all the vulnerable places on his torso she could use to disable him. Right now his head was the only vulnerable part of him. But she would have to get through his beefy arms, and his arms were longer and stronger than hers.

He eased closer.

"I'm going to get you, missy. You got your honey pot ready for me?" he taunted.

"Keep away from me or I'll hurt you," said Diane.

"Hurt me?" He laughed loudly, derisively. "I ain't one of these skinny boys you can hurt, missy. Your boyfriend over there knows that. He knows all he can do is watch me fill that honey pot of yours."

Diane eased away, trying to figure out how to get across the cell to where Liam was. He could help if she could get there, but the big man had the way blocked. He stepped back and forth. He knew what she was trying to do.

Diane kept her eyes on him, always moving in the opposite direction every time he moved. He would get tired of the game soon, she knew. He stepped to the left and Diane made a break to his right, trying to get to the opposite side of the cell. He was quicker on his feet than she imagined an overweight drunk would be. He lunged toward her and grabbed her arm. She swung at his eye with the heel of her shoe, missed, and grazed his nose. He pulled at her clothing as she tried to get away from him. The sleeve of her jacket ripped as Diane struck his hand with the other shoe. He let go of her and she fell backward to the floor.

He rubbed his hand where the heel of her shoe had struck. She knew it must have hurt him.

"You b.i.t.c.h," he said, spitting on the floor. "You f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h."

He stepped toward her. Diane started to rise.

"No. Stay," said Liam, and he yelled out a series of words: "Dorsal left foot calf plantar right foot patella leverage."

Keywords, Diane's mind flashed to her. But what? But what? her conscious mind asked. Her subconscious seemed to know what to do. When his right leg was close enough, his weight resting on it as he leaned toward her, she hooked her left foot around his calf. He looked down at her foot and then into her eyes and smirked at her. There was drool dangling from his open mouth. her conscious mind asked. Her subconscious seemed to know what to do. When his right leg was close enough, his weight resting on it as he leaned toward her, she hooked her left foot around his calf. He looked down at her foot and then into her eyes and smirked at her. There was drool dangling from his open mouth.

His hesitation was just enough. She pulled hard against his calf with her left foot and kicked his knee-cap with her right heel as hard as she could. It took a fraction of a second for the pain to register; then he screamed and crumpled to the floor, trying to hold his ruined knee, but he couldn't get the joint to work and the pain wouldn't stop.

"Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, I'm hurt. Jackie, help me. She's hurt me. Oh, G.o.d. Les, she's killed me."

The guy on the bed looked up and started to speak, but grabbed his jaw instead. He looked over at Diane and she cast him a don't- mess-with-me look. Her adrenaline was still pumping and she was angry. She got up and fetched her heel. The big man on the floor grabbed at her foot. Diane slapped him in the head with her shoe and he howled.

"Leave me alone, you son of a b.i.t.c.h," she yelled at him.

"Well," said Liam. "I stand corrected. You could have hurt me."

"They were drunk," said Diane. She looked over at him. "This is the second time you've helped me out when I badly needed it. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Come and stand over here," he said. "If the guy on the bed tries anything, I can help."

"I ain't got no more truck with you," the skinny guy on the bed mumbled. "I can't move my arm. What'd you do?" he said.

"You should regain the use of it," said Diane. "Just lie down on the bed and stay there."

Diane dragged the unconscious third guy away from Liam's cell. She pulled a blanket off the bunk, wet it in the sink, and washed the bottom of her feet before putting her shoes back on, all the while watching the three men for signs one of them might be going to try something.

Liam laughed.

Diane smiled at him. "No telling what's on this floor," she said.

She stood near Liam and waited, wondering what the sheriff was going to do when he came back.

"Those were beautiful flowers you gave Andie," she said.

"She seemed to like them. She's still angry. I suppose I don't blame her," he said.

"What did you find out at the church today?" she asked.

"People are scared. Some don't trust the sheriff-" he began, but stopped when he heard the door open.

"d.a.m.n," whispered Diane. Liam reached through the bars and took her hand.

Chapter 43

Diane squeezed Liam's hand and listened for the footfalls. More than one person. Several. The sheriff and his deputies, she thought. Would Travis Conrad be with them? Would he defy his father and help her? Her heart thumped in her chest. She felt the adrenaline leaving her. She couldn't fight again.

"You have strong hands," whispered Liam.

"Sorry," said Diane. "Having a little anxiety."

"Don't blame you," he said. "I'm a little anxious myself."

The first person she saw was the sheriff, then Frank rus.h.i.+ng past him. Diane thought she would faint with relief. She raced over to meet him at the cell door, reaching her arms through the bars for him. Agent Gil Mathews of the GBI was with them. So was Colin Prehoda, her lawyer, and David. How did they all get there so fast? David David, thought Diane. Of course. Dear, paranoid David, who planned for all disastrous contingencies.

Frank reached for her, then looked, startled, at the moaning men behind her. He looked back at Diane, his expression going from surprise, to worry, to anger. He turned to the sheriff and in a flash had him by the collar of his suit, pushed up against the cell bars.

"What kind of piece of garbage are you that you would do this?" Frank pulled him forward a few inches and slammed him against the bars again. "Get her out now!"

"You can't . . ." the sheriff sputtered.

"I can and I will," said Frank. "Get her out. Now." He let go. "Now, you sorry son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"You're going to answer for this," said Agent Mathews to the sheriff. "This is a disgrace to law enforcement-putting a woman in the cell with a bunch of men." He looked at the empty cell and at Liam and back at the sheriff. "Disgraceful."

"Unlock the door now," said Colin Prehoda. "This isn't going to go well for you, Conrad."

The sheriff looked at each of their faces, his lip curled. As if just noticing the three men holding their pained body parts and whimpering, he opened his mouth and looked at Diane in amazement.

"You need to call nine- one-one," she said. "These men need to get to a hospital."

"Why'd you do it, man?" said the guy on the bed. "Why'd you put her in here with us?"

The sheriff went to the intercom and punched a b.u.t.ton. "Bob!" he yelled. "Get your a.s.s down here."

Bob, the painfully thin deputy she'd met at the Barres', must have already been on his way, for he came running through the door.

"You were supposed to watch her," said the sheriff. "Where the h.e.l.l were you?"

"I'm sorry, Sheriff, but, you know, I ate at that new Mexican place and something just tore me up inside," he said. "I was coming down as soon as I could."

"He was supposed to get her out if there was trouble," said the sheriff. "I was trying to teach her a lesson."

"Teach her a lesson?" said Liam. "They tried to rape her."

Bob looked at the men in the cell. "She did that?"

The sheriff unlocked Diane's cell and opened it.

Diane glared at him as she walked out of the cell. The sleeve of her jacket was almost ripped off and at some point she had torn her skirt up the side, probably when she broke the big guy's knee.

"The best thing you can do for yourself now, Conrad, is resign," Diane said. "Let Liam out." Frank put his arms around Diane and she leaned against him.

"You can't . . ." the sheriff began again.

He was red faced and angry. He still hated her, still wanted to say this was his county. She could see he wanted to put her back in the cell. But there was also something else, some other emotion she couldn't quite identify.

"I can," said Agent Mathews. "Open the door and let him out. There's a lot we have to do here and a lot of questions you have to answer."

"I've got questions for him," said the sheriff, pointing to Liam.

"He has more credibility than you," Diane interrupted. "He has more character witnesses than you. Let him out. You think I'm going to be a problem for you? He's going to be worse."

"What are you talking about?" said Conrad. "He was in the woods with a knife."

"Show me a man in these woods who doesn't carry a knife," said David. "He's a Medal of Honor recipient. How close have you ever come to serving your country? Slapping a yellow ribbon on the b.u.mper of your truck?"

Diane watched Conrad. Only now did he have a look of panic on his face, and she thought that was curious.

The sheriff stood immobile for a moment, undecided. Then he unlocked the cell and Liam walked out.

"Call an ambulance," said Diane. "Your prisoners need medical attention. They may be sorry examples of humanity, but they don't need to suffer."

Diane began walking out of the cell block toward the doors. The others followed. She heard Bob apologizing to the sheriff.

"My insides were just real tore up," he was saying.

"Shut up, Bob," said the sheriff.

Mike, Neva, and Andie were in the sheriff's office. Diane grinned at them. They looked back at her in horror. Neva, however, didn't miss a beat. She took out her camera and began photographing Diane with the sheriff in the background.

"What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?" the sheriff yelled at Neva.

"Doc.u.menting," she said, without looking up. She took close-ups of the rips in Diane's clothing and the bruises on her upper arm where the sheriff had held her.

"You have no cause for complaint," said Agent Mathews to the sheriff. "If I were you, I'd start now trying to make things right. You're in deep trouble."

"You're wrong," said the sheriff. "The people in this county elected me. They will support me. They even informed on her at the church. The judges will support me."

"The judges are not local, in case you've forgotten," said Prehoda. "This county is just one stop on their circuit. They owe you nothing. Don't look to them to be as corrupt as you are."