The Night Killer

direction every time he moved. He would get tired of the game soon, she knew. He stepped to the left and Diane made a break to his right, trying to get to the opposite side of the cell. He was quicker on his feet than she imagined an overweight drunk would be. He lunged toward her and grabbed her arm. She swung at his eye with the heel of her shoe, missed, and grazed his nose. He pulled at her clothing as she tried to get away from him. The sleeve of her jacket ripped as Diane struck his hand with the other shoe. He let go of her and she fell backward to the floor.
    He rubbed his hand where the heel of her shoe had struck. She knew it must have hurt him.
    “You bitch,” he said, spitting on the floor. “You fucking bitch.”
    He stepped toward her. Diane started to rise.
    “No. Stay,” said Liam, and he yelled out a series of words: “Dorsal left foot calf plantar right foot patella leverage.”
    Keywords , Diane’s mind flashed to her. But what? her conscious mind asked. Her subconscious seemed to know what to do. When his right leg was close enough, his weight resting on it as he leaned toward her, she hooked her left foot around his calf. He looked down at her foot and then into her eyes and smirked at her. There was drool dangling from his open mouth.
    His hesitation was just enough. She pulled hard against his calf with her left foot and kicked his knee-cap with her right heel as hard as she could. It took a fraction of a second for the pain to register; then he screamed and crumpled to the floor, trying to hold his ruined knee, but he couldn’t get the joint to work and the pain wouldn’t stop.
    “Oh God, oh God, I’m hurt. Jackie, help me. She’s hurt me. Oh, God. Les, she’s killed me.”
    The guy on the bed looked up and started to speak, but grabbed his jaw instead. He looked over at Diane and she cast him a don’t- mess-with-me look. Her adrenaline was still pumping and she was angry. She got up and fetched her heel. The big man on the floor grabbed at her foot. Diane slapped him in the head with her shoe and he howled.
    “Leave me alone, you son of a bitch,” she yelled at him.
    “Well,” said Liam. “I stand corrected. You could have hurt me.”
    “They were drunk,” said Diane. She looked over at him. “This is the second time you’ve helped me out when I badly needed it. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome. Come and stand over here,” he said. “If the guy on the bed tries anything, I can help.”
    “I ain’t got no more truck with you,” the skinny guy on the bed mumbled. “I can’t move my arm. What’d you do?” he said.
    “You should regain the use of it,” said Diane. “Just lie down on the bed and stay there.”
    Diane dragged the unconscious third guy away from Liam’s cell. She pulled a blanket off the bunk, wet it in the sink, and washed the bottom of her feet before putting her shoes back on, all the while watching the three men for signs one of them might be going to try something.
    Liam laughed.
    Diane smiled at him. “No telling what’s on this floor,” she said.
    She stood near Liam and waited, wondering what the sheriff was going to do when he came back.
    “Those were beautiful flowers you gave Andie,” she said.
    “She seemed to like them. She’s still angry. I suppose I don’t blame her,” he said.
    “What did you find out at the church today?” she asked.
    “People are scared. Some don’t trust the sheriff—” he began, but stopped when he heard the door open.
    “Damn,” whispered Diane. Liam reached through the bars and took her hand.

Chapter 43
    Diane squeezed Liam’s hand and listened for the footfalls. More than one person. Several. The sheriff and his deputies, she thought. Would Travis Conrad be with them? Would he defy his father and help her? Her heart thumped in her chest. She felt the adrenaline leaving her. She couldn’t fight again.
    “You have strong hands,” whispered Liam.
    “Sorry,” said Diane. “Having a little anxiety.”
    “Don’t blame you,” he said. “I’m a little anxious myself.”
    The first person she saw was the sheriff, then Frank rushing past him. Diane thought she would faint with relief. She raced over to meet him at the cell door, reaching her arms through the bars for him. Agent Gil Mathews of the GBI was with them. So was Colin Prehoda, her lawyer, and David. How did they all get there so fast? David , thought Diane. Of course. Dear, paranoid David, who planned for all disastrous