Dust to Dust

said Diane.
    But Tyler had passed out.

Chapter 62
    When Diane looked back at Everett Walters, he was pointing a gun at her.
    Well, hell .
    “Now it’s time to pay the piper,” he said.
    “Oh God, Tyler,” yelled Wendy.
    She stood up and started toward her unconscious son. As she crossed in front of Everett, she didn’t see the blow from the pistol butt coming to the back of her head. Wendy reeled forward and fell, crashing into the table, rolling off it onto the floor at Marsha’s feet. For a moment, Diane thought Marsha was going to kick her. Wendy struggled to get to her feet. She looked seriously hurt.
    “Just lie there,” said Diane. “Until you get your breath.”
    Ross Kingsley stood and faced Everett. “This may seem like a good idea to you now, but you’re very angry. I understand that. Take a moment and think about this. It will do you no good to cut off your nose to spite your face,” he said.
    “It won’t be my nose I’ll be cutting off,” he said. “You and the woman are do-gooders. I know your type. You take care of people too yellow to take care of themselves. So this is why I’m going to tell you, I’ll be shooting these other folks first. I’ll shoot my worthless daughter-in-law right now unless you sit down. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
    Kingsley hesitated a moment, then sat down. Diane guessed he was trying to think of something else to say. Right now, Everett wasn’t in the mood to listen.
    All the guns were across the room with Tyler, except the one in Everett’s hand and the one under the sofa. Diane tried to think of a plan to get her hands on one of them. She didn’t see how she could do it fast enough.
    But maybe Wendy could. She was still on the floor and Diane could see her looking under the couch. She saw the gun; Diane was sure. But the coffee table was between her and the sofa. Everett would cut her down if she tried. Maybe if there was a diversion.
    “Apparently, it’s me you want to, how did you put it, chop up in little pieces? Why don’t you leave these people alone?” Diane said, standing up and facing him.
    “All full of piss and vinegar, aren’t you? Think you can make your move once we get away from these people here? I know how your mind’s working.” He tapped his finger on his temple. “It’s not going to go like that. No, I’m not going to drop my guard. You aren’t going to get off, not after what you’ve done.”
    “Don’t like being outed as a serial killer?” said Diane. She stepped toward him.
    “Shut up. When I tell you to shut that damn hole of yours, I mean it,” he said.
    He started backing slowly toward the entrance to the living room, pointing his gun at Diane’s head.
    “Any one of you so much as looks like you’re going to stand up is going to get it. I can shoot her and any one of you before you dive for the guns. Now, we are going out. You try and follow, she’s dead and I’ll take my chances. Are we all on the same page?”
    He looked back at Diane, who stood a few feet away from him.
    “Still got that mind working, don’t you, girlie? Thinking about doing a dive like Wendy?” he said.
    Diane was thinking of something like that. Diving at him quickly, knocking him off his feet before he could shoot. But he was too alert to a move like that now. If he was taking her to another location, he had to get her out of the house, across the yard, and into a vehicle. He would have to let his guard down at some point.
    “Don’t do it,” said Everett. “It won’t work. Now, very slowly, I want you to step—”
    Crash!
    Everett fell to the floor, a pink guitar careening away from the spot where his head had been a moment before.
    “That’s for my sister,” said Samantha.
    She hit him again on the head with the solid hardwood guitar.
    “That’s for making me ruin my Fender Stratocaster guitar. I’ll send you the bill.”
    She kicked him in the back.
    “That’s for ruining my family.”
    Diane grabbed the gun that had fallen from his hand.
    “Play much baseball?” Diane asked Samantha.
    “No, but I have a mean golf swing,” she said, and hugged Diane.
    Diane turned in time to see Kingsley on his feet, hitting Samuel Carruthers in the jaw with his fist. Kingsley knocked him against a hutch filled with china that crashed on the shelves. He picked up the guns and turned to face Carruthers, who was struggling to his feet.
    “What happened?” asked Diane, keeping an eye on Everett Walters as