Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

thick stand of laurels. "The cops told me somebody named Triplett had kidnapped you. They didn't have any leads, but we both know cops aren't too bright. The cabin was on the family property tax listing."
    Julia let Mitchell pull her into the rhododendron tangles. They were hidden by the thick, waxy leaves. "Now we just have to wait for the cops to show up," he said.
    "Did you tell them where we were?"
    "I wanted to see you first. Maybe some dumb part of me wanted to be a hero, hoping that you'd forgive me for what I . . . " His voice fell, losing all its courtroom authority. "For what I almost did."
    " Did you tell them ?"
    He nodded. "I called from my cell in town. I left my car down on the road and hiked up."
    "No," she whispered.
    "Look, I came to Elkwood to make things right. I'm sorry. I was stupid, I lost my temper, I guess I was afraid I was going to lose you."
    "So you tried to rape me?"
    Mitchell's eyes shifted from side to side as if he were searching through some memorized law journals for a case to cite. He looked out of place in his power suit, huddled in the middle of the forest, miles from a golf club or stock broker. The wool of his jacket was frayed where branches had picked at the fabric. "I don't blame you for hating me. But it’s your fault."
    "Screw you, Mitchell." She stood in the thicket, anger reviving her strength. "Screw you and the goat you rode in on. You can’t save me."
    She started from the laurel, but Mitchell grabbed at her. "No," he said. "I need you."
    She jerked her arm free.
    "You're mine ," he said.
    "Like hell."
    " You're not going to walk away from me, whore ." He threw himself at her, knocking her to the ground. They struggled on the frosty leaves.
    "She walks wherever she damn well pleases," Walter said. He emerged from behind a stand of white pines. "She makes up her own mind. And you or nobody else is going to stop her."
    Julia's eyes met Walter’s, and she wasn’t sure whether it was fire or madness in them. Mitchell let her go and stood up, brushing the leaves from his clothes.
    "So you're the Creep," Mitchell said. He was a couple of inches taller than Walter, but Walter approached him steadily, fists clenched.
    "Hey, I'm not the one beating up a woman."
    "And I'm not a lunatic wife-killer."
    "Don't believe everything you hear. She came with me because she wanted to. Ain't that right, Julia?"
    Julia looked from one to the other, searching for the devil in each.
    "You might as well give up," Mitchell said. "The police will be here soon."
    Walter glanced at Julia. She couldn't meet his intense gaze. He took a step toward Mitchell.
    "Stay back," Mitchell said, fumbling inside his jacket. He brought out a pistol, and the sun gleamed off its menacing barrel.
    Walter's mouth fell open as he stared at the pistol. He froze but didn't raise his hands. Julia didn't know much about guns, only what she'd seen in cop movies. This pistol looked like an automatic because it didn't have a revolver chamber. But she knew that a gun fired bullets, and Mitchell was crazy or possessed, and that made a bad combination.
    "Come here, Julia," Mitchell said. "If you'd have let me buy you a gun like I wanted, this loser might not have kidnapped you in the first place."
    Julia glanced at Walter, and then took a step toward Mitchell.
    "It wasn't me, Julia," Walter said. "You've got to believe me."
    "What's he talking about?" Mitchell asked, holding the gun steady as if he were accustomed to using it.
    Julia shook her head. She couldn’t fight anymore. She would go back with Mitchell, he would take care of her until the police came, Walter would be arrested, and everybody would live happily ever after.
    "He didn't kidnap me," she said.
    Mitchell’s gun hand quavered. "Julia, you're confused," Mitchell said. "Your . . . problems are probably aggravated by the trauma. You can't trust what you think right now."
    "I don't know what I think," she said.
    "I do care about you."
    "No," she said. "You just don't want to lose me. No matter what, Mitchell Austin can't stand to lose."
    Mitchell's jaw muscles clenched and he squeezed the grip of the pistol so tightly his hand shook. Walter kept his eyes fixed on Mitchell's face.
    "Don't be stupid, Julia," Mitchell said, as if she were a disobedient dog or a wayward child. "Look at all I can do for you. You know I can. Money talks, and when we get back to Memphis and away from Snead and his sickos, we're going to be babbling like idiots. You don't know the