After She's Gone (West Coast 3) - Page 168

No!

Cassie coiled, then sprang, propelling herself through the opening and rolling, knocking Allie off her feet. The gun went flying, skittering across the floor.

Lithe as a cat, she pounced on the gun, then rolled over and agilely hopped to her feet. The girl who had once been a nerdy bookworm, then a famous Hollywood star and then a ghost, vanishing without a trace was now a cold-blooded killer?

“Allie?” Cassie whispered as her sister pointed the gun at her. “Allie!”

Allie’s hands wobbled. Her eyes were wide, her expression cold.

“Don’t shoot!” Cassie yelled. “Allie!”

Ashen faced, thin as a rail, her eyes hollow, as if she didn’t recognize Cassie, Allie hesitated.

“Allie, it’s me. Cassie. Your sister.”

Heavy footsteps thundered toward them, but Allie didn’t seem to hear, just stood over Cassie.

“Drop it!” Shane’s voice boomed through the room. “Allie Kramer! Drop your weapon.” Then his voice softened. “For the love of God, what happened?” His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping, and for a second Cassie witnessed his pain. He’d thought of Jenna’s daughters as his own. As quickly as his bewilderment appeared, it disappeared and he slipped back into his lawman persona once more.

In a daze, Allie looked away and in that instant, Cassie sprang. She ripped the gun from her sister’s fingers. Without thinking she threw the damned weapon through the opening to the silo. “What the hell are you doing?” she thundered raging at her sister. “You idiot! We all thought you were dead!”

“I am,” Allie said, as if she really were a zombie.

“What? Don’t give me that!” Cassie roared, incited.

“Cass, it’s okay.” Shane tried to step in.

But Cassie wasn’t finished. “Where have you been? Huh? Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking for you forever. People have died! What were you thinking? Damn it, Allie, were you really going to kill me?”

“Little Sister,” Laura whispered. Blood drizzled from the corner of her mouth, the mask still halfway on and she was pale as death. Sirens screamed. They were so close they sounded as if they were inside the damned barn.

Cassie turned on the wounded woman. Laura Merrick. Seriously? The makeup person and hairdresser to the stars was Cassie’s half sister and probably a psychotic killer? Or was the murderess Allie?

“Why?” Cassie demanded, but Laura only groaned.

“Why?” she asked again, this time focusing on her younger sister, the little girl who had turned into a monster.

Allie just stared, and Cassie couldn’t help but wonder if she was indeed almost catatonic or this, like so many scenes in her life, was just an act.

“It’s not my fault,” Allie whispered.

Cassie lost it.

Before thinking, she whirled and she slapped the wretch that her little sister had become. Allie’s head snapped back and her lost, forlorn expression instantly morphed into an ugly rage.

Barely aware that the barn was suddenly alive, blue and red light pulsing through the windows, policemen and women converging on the barn, Cassie plowed on. Shaking, she said, “It is your fault. You could have let us know you were alive! You didn’t need to put Mom and me and everyone else through this hell!” She was shaking. “Quit faking it and acting like you didn’t know what you were doing, Allie! You’re not a frightened little girl anymore.”

“And you hate me for it,” Allie said, her facade slipping a little, her lips curling in disgust.

“You effin’ thought I was going to die on that set!” Cassie said and lunged at her sister as Laura moaned at their feet.

Shane stepped in. Grabbed Cassie. Held her back. “It’s over,” he whispered into her ear and she heard the sound of other footsteps thundering through the barn, echoing on the floors. She struggled, wanting to beat the living tar out of the woman Laura had dubbed “Baby Sister.” It was fitting, really. Allie had always played the part of the wounded little girl, at least in their family.

“Police! Drop your weapons!” a man shouted.

From the f

loor, Laura, one eye exposed glared up at them. With an effort, she said, “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. Don’t you get it? I should be the star. Not you, Baby Sister!” She spat and coughed. “I’m the firstborn. Me!” She was gurgling now, spittle and blood frothing red on her lips. “I’m the Big Sister and you two are the interlopers.” She glared at Cassie and snarled. “You’re a freak, Little Sister, that’s what you are. You could never make it in the business even though you had the chance!” Her words garbled then, and Cassie, looking over her stepfather’s shoulder, met Trent’s eyes.

Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery
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