A Grant County Collection: Indelible, Faithless and Skin Privilege

  Lena angled her body across the hall, placing herself at the top of the landing, gripping her gun in both hands, resting the butt on the edge of the stair.

  'Now, now,' Paul said. His back was to Lena as he stood over Terri, Tim's legs wrapped around his waist. She couldn't tell where the boy's body was, could not line up the shot and know with 100 percent certainty that she would not hit the child, too.

  'You're upsetting your son here.' Tim was silent. He had probably watched his mother get the shit beaten out of her so many times before that it no longer penetrated.

  Paul said, 'What did you tell the police?'

  Terri had her hands out in front of her as once more Paul lifted his foot to kick her. 'No!' she screamed as his Italian loafer came down on her face. Again, she slammed into the floor, the air going out of her with a painful groan that cut Lena to the core.

  Again, Lena sighted the gun, her hands steady as she tried to line up the shot. If Paul would just stop moving. If Tim would just slide down a little bit more, she could end all of this now. He had no idea Lena was at the top of the stairs. Paul would be on the ground before he knew what hit him.

  Paul said, 'Come on, Terri.' Even though Terri made no move to rise, he picked up his foot again and smashed it into her back. Terri's mouth opened, breath groaning out.

  'What did you tell them?' he repeated, his mantra. Lena saw him move the revolver to Tim's head and she lowered her own gun, knowing she could not take the risk. 'You know I'll shoot him. You know I will blow his little brains all over this house.'

  Terri struggled to her knees. She clasped her hands in front of her, a supplicant, praying, 'Please, please. Let him go. Please.'

  'What did you tell them?'

  'Nothing,' she said. 'Nothing!'

  Tim had started to cry, and Paul shushed him, saying, 'Be quiet now, Tim. Be a strong man for Uncle Paul.'

  'Please,' Terri begged.

  Lena saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Rebecca stood in the doorway of the nursery, poised on the threshold. Lena shook her head once, then, when the girl did not move, she hardened her expression, waving her back in forceful pantomime.

  When Lena turned back to the foyer, she saw that Tim had buried his face in the crook of Paul's shoulder. The boy's body stiffened as he looked up and saw Lena at the top of the stairs, her gun pointing down. Their eyes locked.

  Without warning, Paul whirled around, revolver raised, and fired a shot that went straight toward her head.

  Terri screamed at the explosion, and Lena rolled to the side, hoping to God she was out of the line of fire as another shot rang through the house. There was a splintering of wood as the front door burst open, followed by Jeffrey's 'Don't move!' but Lena heard it as if from a great distance, the sound of the bullet ringing in her ear. She wasn't sure whether it was sweat or blood that dribbled down the side of her cheek as she looked back over the stairs. Jeffrey was standing in the foyer, his gun pointed at the lawyer. Paul still held Tim tight to his chest, the revolver trained at the boy's temple.

  'Let him go,' Jeffrey ordered, his eyes darting up to Lena.

  Lena raised her hand to her head, recognized the sticky feel of blood. Her ear was covered in it, but she couldn't feel any pain.

  Terri was crying, keening, as she held her hands to her stomach, begging Paul to release her child. She sounded as if she was praying.

  Jeffrey told Paul, 'Lower your gun.'

  'Not going to happen,' he quipped.

  'You've got nowhere to go,' Jeffrey said, again looking up at Lena. 'We've got you surrounded.'

  Paul let his gaze follow Jeffrey's. Lena made an attempt to stand, but vertigo got the best of her. She settled back onto her knees, her gun down at her side. She couldn't keep her eyes focused.

  Paul said calmly, 'Looks like she needs help.'

  'Please,' Terri pleaded, almost in her own world. 'Please, just let him go. Please.'

  'There's no way out of this for you,' Jeffrey said. 'Drop the gun.'

  Lena tasted something metallic in her mouth. She put her hand to her head again, testing her scalp. She didn't feel anything alarming, but her ear started to throb. Gently, she tested the cartilage until she found out what was causing the blood. The top part of her earlobe was missing, maybe a quarter of an inch. The bullet must have grazed her.

  She sat up on her knees, blinking, trying to clear her vision. Terri was looking at her, almost drilling a hole into her, eyes begging Lena to do something to stop this.

  'Help him,' she implored. 'Please help my baby.'

  Lena wiped a trickle of blood out of her eye, finally seeing what the bulge under Paul's jacket was. A cell phone. The bastard had a cell phone clipped to his belt.

  'Please,' Terri begged. 'Lena, please.'

  Lena pointed her gun at Paul's head, feeling a searing hatred burn her throat as she told him, 'Drop it.'

  Paul swung around, taking Tim with him. He looked up at Lena, gauging the situation. She could tell part of him didn't believe a woman could actually threaten him, and this made her hate him even more.

  She made her voice a deadly threat. 'Drop it, you bastard.'

  For the first time, he looked nervous.

  'Drop the gun,' Lena repeated, keeping her hand steady as she rose to her feet. If she could have been sure of her shot, she would've killed him there and then, unloaded her magazine into his head until there was nothing but a stump of spine sticking out.

  Jeffrey said, 'Do it, Paul. Drop the gun.'

  Slowly, Paul lowered his gun, but instead of letting it fall to the ground, he trained it on Terri's head. He knew they wouldn't shoot him as long as he had Tim as a shield. Pointing the gun at Terri was just one more way to assert his control over the situation.

  He said, 'I think y'all should take your own advice.'

  Terri sat there on the floor, her hands reaching out to her son. She pleaded, 'Don't hurt him, Paul.' Tim tried to go to his mother but Paul held him tight. 'Please don't hurt him.'

  Paul backed toward the front door, saying, 'Put down your guns. Now.'

  Jeffrey watched him, not doing anything for several beats. Finally, he put his weapon on the floor and held up his hands, showing they were empty. 'Backup's on the way.'

  'Not fast enough,' he guessed.

  Jeffrey said, 'Don't do this, Paul. Just leave him here.'

  'So you can follow me?' Paul sneered, shifting Tim on his hip. The child had realized what was going on and his breath was coming hard, like he was having trouble getting air. Paul kept moving closer to the door, oblivious to the boy's pain. 'I don't think so.' He looked up at Lena. 'Your turn, Detective.'

  Lena waited for Jeffrey's nod before crouching down to place her gun on the floor. She stayed low, keeping close to the weapon.

  Tim's breathing was more labored, and he started making a whooping sound as he struggled to inhale.

  'It's okay,' Terri whispered, inching toward him, crawling on her knees. 'Just breathe, baby. Just try to breathe.'

  Paul edged toward the front door, keeping his eye on Jeffrey, thinking he was the real threat. Lena took a few steps down the stairs, not knowing what she would do if she reached the bottom. She wanted to tear him apart with her hands, hear him scream with agony as she ripped into him.

  'It's okay, baby,' Terri crooned, crawling on her knees toward them. She reached out, touching her son's foot with the tips of her fingers. The boy was gasping in earnest now, his thin chest heaving. 'Just breathe.'

  Paul was almost out the door. He told Jeffrey, 'Don't try to follow me.'

  Jeffrey said, 'You're not going to take that kid.'

  'Watch me.'

  He made to leave, but Terri held Tim's foot in the palm of her hand, keeping them both in place. Paul pressed the gun to her forehead. 'Get back,' Paul warned, and Lena froze on the stair, unsure who he was talking to. She took another step as Paul warned Terri, 'Move away.'

  'His asthma –'

  'I don't care,' Paul barked. 'Mov
e away.'

  'Mama loves you,' Terri whispered over and over, oblivious to Paul's threat as she clung to Tim's foot. 'Mama loves you so much –'

  'Shut up,' Paul hissed. He tried to pull away, but Terri held on tight, wrapping her hand around Tim's leg to get a better grip. Paul raised the revolver, slamming the butt of it down on her head.

  Jeffrey grabbed up his gun in one fluid motion, pointing it at Paul's chest. 'Stop right there.'

  'Baby,' Terri said. She had staggered, but remained on her knees, holding on to Tim's leg. 'Mama's here, baby. Mama's here.'

  Tim was turning blue, his teeth chattering as if he was cold. Paul tried to pull him away from his mother, but she held on, telling her son, '". . . my grace is sufficient for thee . . ."'

  'Let go.' Paul tried to jerk him back, but still she would not release her son. 'Terri –' Paul looked panicked, as if some kind of rabid animal had clamped on to him. 'Terri, I mean it.'

  '". . . my strength is made perfect in weakness . . ."'

  'Let go, goddamnit!' Again, Paul raised the gun, striking her even more savagely. Terri fell back, but she reached out with her other hand, grabbing on to Paul's shirt, pulling it as she struggled to stay upright.

  Jeffrey had his gun on Paul, but even this close, he couldn't risk a shot. The boy was in the way. His problem was the same as Lena's. An inch too far and he'd end up killing him.

  'Terri,' Lena tried, as if she could somehow help. She had reached the bottom stair, but all she could do was watch as Terri held on to Tim, her bleeding forehead pressed to his leg. The boy's eyelids flickered. His lips were blue, his face a ghostly white as his lungs strained for air.

  Jeffrey warned, 'Stop right there, Paul.'

  '"When I am weak,"' Terri whispered, '"then am I strong."'

  Paul struggled to pull away, but Terri maintained her hold, clutching on to the waist of his pants. Paul raised the gun higher and brought it down, but Terri tilted her head up at the last minute. The gun glanced off her cheek, hitting her collarbone, slipping in Paul's hand. A single bullet fired straight up into Terri's face. The woman staggered again, somehow keeping herself upright as she held on to Paul and her boy. There was a gaping hole in her jaw, fragmented bone hanging down. Blood poured out of the open wound, splattering onto the tiled floor, and the injured woman reflexively tightened her grip on Paul's shirt, bloody handprints streaking the white.

  'No,' Paul said, stumbling back, trying to get away from her. He was horrified at what he was seeing, his expression showing a mixture of fear and revulsion. In shock, he let go of the gun and almost dropped Tim as he fell against the porch railing.

  Terri kept her tight grip on Paul, using all her remaining strength to hold on. Blood wicked into his shirt as she pulled him down to the ground, falling on top of him. She kept pulling at his shirt, pulling herself up toward her son. Tim's skin was deadly white, his eyes closed. Terri put her head on Tim's back, the pulverized side of her face turned away from her son.

  Jeffrey kicked the revolver away from Paul's hand, then slid the child out from under his mother. He laid Tim flat on the ground and started to give him CPR. 'Lena,' he said, then yelled, 'Lena!'

  She startled out of her trance, her body working on autopilot as she snapped open her phone and called an ambulance. She knelt beside Terri, putting her fingers to the woman's neck. There was a faint pulse, and Lena smoothed back her hair from her shattered face, saying, 'You're going to be okay.'

  Paul tried to move out from under her, but Lena snarled, 'If you so much as breathe, I'll kill you.'

  Paul nodded, his lips trembling as he looked down in horror at Terri's head in his lap. He had never killed this close before, had always shielded himself from the dirty reality of his deeds. The bullet had torn through the side of Terri's face, exiting out of the base of her neck. Black dots burned into the skin from the powder burns. Her left cheek was shredded, her tongue visible through the damage. Fractured bone mingled with blood and gray matter. Fragments of her back molars were stuck in her hair.

  Lena put her face close to Terri's, saying, 'Terri? Terri, just hang on.'

  Terri's eyes fluttered open. She took shallow breaths, struggling to speak.

  'Terri?'

  Lena could see her tongue moving inside her mouth, the white bone shaking from the effort.

  'It's okay,' Lena soothed. 'Help is on the way. Just hang on.'

  Her jaw worked slowly, labored with the desperate effort of speaking. She couldn't enunciate, her mouth would not cooperate. It seemed to take everything out of her to say, 'I . . . did it.'

  'You did it,' Lena assured her, grabbing her hand, careful not to jostle her. Spinal injuries were tricky, the higher up the more damage. She didn't even know if Terri could feel her, but she had to hold on to something.

  Lena said, 'I've got your hand, Terri. Don't let go.'

  Jeffrey muttered, 'Come on, Tim,' and she heard him counting, pressing the boy's chest, trying to make his heart beat.

  Terri's breathing slowed. Her eyelids flickered again. 'I . . . did . . . it.'

  'Terri?' Lena asked. 'Terri?'

  'Breathe, Tim,' Jeffrey urged. He took a breath of his own and forced it into the boy's slackened mouth.

  Bubbles of bright red blood popped on Terri's wet lips. There was a gurgling sound in her chest, a fluid look to her features.

  'Terri?' Lena begged, holding on to her hand, trying to press life back into her. She heard a siren in the distance, calling like a beacon. Lena knew it was backup; the ambulance couldn't get there this quickly. Still, she lied.

  'Hear that?' Lena asked, gripping Terri's hand as tightly as she could. 'The ambulance is on the way, Terri.'

  'Come on, Tim,' Jeffrey coaxed. 'Come on.'

  Terri blinked, and Lena knew she could hear the wail of the siren, knew help was coming. She exhaled sharply. 'I . . . did . . .'

  'One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand,' Jeffrey said, counting the compressions.

  'I . . . di . . .'

  'Terri, talk to me,' Lena pleaded. 'Come on, girl. What did you do? Tell me what you did.'

  She struggled to speak, giving a weak cough, spraying a fine mist of blood into Lena's face. Lena stayed there, stayed close to her, tried to keep eye contact so that she would not go.

  'Tell me,' Lena said, searching her eyes for something, some sign that she would be okay. She just needed to keep her talking, keep her holding on. 'Tell me what you did.'

  'I –'

  'You what?'

  'I –'

  'Come on, Terri. Don't let go. Don't give up now.' Lena heard the cruiser screech to a halt in the drive. 'Tell me what you did.'

  'I . . .' Terri began. 'I . . . got . . .'

  'What did you get?' Lena felt hot tears on her cheeks as Terri's grip slackened around her own. 'Don't let go, Terri. Tell me what you got.'

  Her lip curled, a spasm; almost, as if she wanted to smile but no longer knew how.

  'What did you get, Terri? What did you get?'

  'I . . . got . . .' She coughed out another spray of blood. '. . . away.'

  'That's it,' Jeffrey said as Tim gasped, taking his first breath of air. 'That's great, Tim. Just breathe.'

  A stream of blood flowed from the corner of Terri's mouth, forming a solid line down her cheek like a child's bright crayon trailing across a page. What was left of her jaw went slack. Her eyes were glassy.

  She was gone.

  Lena left the police station around nine that evening, feeling like she hadn't been home in weeks. Her body felt weak, every muscle sore as if she'd run a thousand miles. Her ear was still numb from the shot they had given her at the hospital so they could suture up the damage Paul's bullet had done. Her hair would cover the missing bit, but Lena knew that every time she looked in a mirror, every time she touched the scar, she would remember Terri Stanley, the look on her face, that almost-smile as she slipped away.

  Even though there wasn't a visible sign of it, Lena felt like she still had some of Te
rri's blood on her – in her hair, under her fingernails. No matter what she did, she could still smell it, taste it, feel it. It was heavy, like guilt, and tasted of bitter defeat. She had not helped the woman. She had done nothing to protect her. Terri had been right – they were both drowning in the same ocean.

  Her cell phone rang as she turned into her neighborhood, and Lena checked the caller ID, praying like hell Jeffrey didn't need her back at the station. She squinted at the number, not recognizing it. Lena let the phone ring a few more times before it suddenly came to her. Lu Mitchell's number. She had almost forgotten it after all these years.

  She nearly dropped the phone trying to open it, then cursed as she put it up to her injured ear. Lena switched it around, saying, 'Hello?' There was no response, and her heart dropped, thinking the call had gone to her voice mail.

  She was about to end the connection when Greg said, 'Lee?'

  'Yeah,' she said, trying not to sound breathless. 'Hey. How's it going?'

  'I heard on the news about the woman,' he said. 'Were you there?'

  'Yeah,' she told him, wondering how long it had been since someone asked her about work. Ethan was too self-centered and Nan was too squeamish.

  'Are you okay?'

  'I watched her die,' Lena told him. 'I just held her hand and watched her die.'

  She heard his breathing over the line and thought about Terri, the way her last breaths had sounded.

  He told her, 'It's good that she had you there.'

  'I don't know about that.'

  'No,' he disagreed. 'It's good that she had someone with her.'

  Before she could stop herself, she said, 'I'm not a very good person, Greg.'

  Again, all she could hear was his breathing.

  'I've made some really bad mistakes.'

  'Everybody has.'

  'Not like me,' she said. 'Not the ones I have.'

  'Do you want to talk about it?'

  She wanted more than anything else to talk about it, to tell him everything that had happened, to shock him with the ugly details. She couldn't, though. She needed him too badly, needed to know he was just down the street, holding his mama's yarn while Lu knitted him another ugly scarf.

  'So,' Greg said, and Lena strained to fill the silence.