E Is for Evidence

said.
    "That was a long time ago."
    "Not long enough."
    "What about Andy Motycka? How'd you persuade him to help?"
    "Money and threats. The carrot and the stick. Janice was hosing him for every cent he had. I paid him ten grand. Every time he got nervous, I reminded him that I'd be happy to tell Janice about Lorraine if he tried to back out."
    "How'd you find out about her?"
    "We've all known each other for years. The four of us went to UCST together before he and Janice got married. This was after I conjured up my new identity, of course. Once I settled on the frame-up, it didn't take much to figure out he was in the perfect position to assist me."
    "Did you kill him too?"
    "I wish I had. He ducked out on me, but I'll find a way to lure him back. He's not very smart."
    Even with the tinnitus I suffer, I could have sworn I could hear the package bomb ticking merrily. I wet my lips. "Is there really a clock in there? Is that how it works?"
    He glanced over at the kitchen counter. "It's not a complicated device. The one for Olive was more elabo-rate, but I had to make sure it would detonate on impact."
    "It's amazing I wasn't killed then."
    "Might have simplified things," he said.
    I remembered then how he'd bent to recoil the hose lying on the walk. Any excuse to hang back out of range. I was beginning to feel strangely free. The time left was brief, but it was beginning to stretch and sag like a long strand of chewing gum. It seemed absurd to think I'd spend the last minutes of my life discussing trivial points with the man who was going to do me in. Oh hell, why not, you know? I flashed again to my brief flight off the front of Olive's porch while she soared beyond me like a bird. A death like that barely registers. What scared me was sur-viving, maimed and burned, living long enough to feel the loss of self. Time to make a move, I thought, regardless of the consequences. Once your life is threatened, what else do you have to lose?
    I reached for my handbag. "I've got some tranqs in my bag. Do you mind?"
    He seemed startled, waving his gun at me. "Leave it where it is."
    "I'm a wreck, Terry. I really need a Valium. Then you can tie me up."
    "No," he said peevishly. "Don't touch it. I mean it!"
    "Come on. Indulge me. It's a small request."
    I pulled the bag over and unzipped the top, rooting through the contents until I located the crosshatched ivory handle of my beloved.32 and eased the safety off. He couldn't believe I'd disobey him, but he couldn't seem to think what to do.
    As he rose to his feet, I fired through the bottom of the handbag at a range of ten feet without any visible effect. He did jump as if I'd tossed hot gravy on his pants, but I didn't see blood and he didn't topple to the floor as I'd sincerely prayed he would. Instead, he roared to life, com-ing at me like a mad dog. I pulled the gun out of my purse to fire again, but he was on me, taking me with him to the floor. I saw his fist come at me, and I jerked to the right. The blow landed on my left ear, which rang with pain. I scrambled up, grabbing at the couch for support. I had no idea where my gun had gone, but he was aiming his at me. I snatched up my handbag and swung it. I caught him in the head. The momentum knocked him sideways.
    He was blocking my passage to the front door, so I veered the other way, and raced into the bathroom. I slammed the door after me, turned the lock, and hit the floor. He fired twice, bullets zinging through the door like bees. There was no way out. The bathroom window was right in the line of fire and I couldn't see anything to defend myself with. He started kicking at the door, savage blows that splintered the wood on impact. I saw his foot come through the panel and he kicked again. His hand shot through the hole and he fumbled for the lock. I jerked the lid off the toilet tank and cracked him a blow. I heard him yelp and he snatched his hand back through the hole. He fired again, screaming obscenities. Suddenly his face appeared in the gap, eyes roving wildly as he searched for my location. The nose of the gun peered at me. All I could think to do was to protect myself with the tank lid, holding it in front of me like a shield. The bullet slammed into it with a clang, the impact fierce enough to jolt the lid right out of my hands, breaking it in two. Terry started kicking at the door again, but the blows were losing force.
    On the other side, I heard him fall heavily. I froze, astonished, gasping for breath.