Free Fire and Ice by Lee Goldberg, Jude Hardin, William Rabkin Page A

twitched a few times, and then lay still.
    “Now she’s really going to start freaking,” K-Rad said. He dragged Tyler’s limp body behind a stand of ornamental shrubs and walked toward his car to get the Berettas.

11:20 a.m.
     
    Terri climbed into the back of the GTO and got down on the floorboard, as Matt had instructed. Matt switched on the radio and turned it to the news channel, just in case Shelly was unleashing whatever hell she had in mind. If a bulletin came on about an ax murderer loose in a school or a department store or something, at least Matt would know where to go.
    And what he had to do.
    Because every person she hurt … or killed … was on him.
    For bringing Mr. Dark into her life.
    And for letting her walk out of the factory.
    Matt listened to the radio program, but the only story being broadcast at the moment was from an economist, something about the possibility of interest rates going up. The usual boring crap.
    “I need to pee,” Terri said.
    “What?”
    “I gotta go. Really bad.”
    They were currently on a stretch of two-lane blacktop lined with pine trees on both sides. The closest bathroom was at the Retro, still several miles away, and Matt wanted Terri to stay in the car when they got there.
    “There’s nowhere to go,” Matt said. “You’re just going to have to hold it. Or pee your pants.”
    “I can’t hold it much longer, and I’m not going to pee my pants. Pull over to the side of the road and let me out. It’ll only take a minute.”
    Matt cursed under his breath. He eased to the shoulder, braked to a stop, and put the car in neutral.

11:22 a.m.
     
    Why the hell are they stopping here? Shelly wondered. Then she saw the petite young woman climbing out of the passenger’s side door. He’s going to do it to her right there in the trees. Can’t even wait to get back to her place. She should have known he was just like all the rest of the assholes she’d been with.
    Matt had his eyes on the bitch and paid no attention as Shelly sped by. No worries about him seeing and recognizing her car. Shelly knew where Matt and his little chickadee were headed.
    The only thing out this way was the Retro.
    The Retro. Hmm. The day care could wait. She’d take out the parents first—then there would be no one to get in her way. It was close to lunchtime, and they’d all be heading to the Retro.
    Heads will roll!
    She laughed out loud.

11:23 a.m.
     
    Matt didn’t see the driver of the car as it passed … but he recognized it from the Nitko parking lot.
    And there was nobody alive at Nitko to drive it.
    Except one person.
    Matt jammed the transmission into first gear and burned rubber back onto the highway. Terri was safer here than where he was going.

11:31 a.m.
     
    Shelly pulled into the Retro’s lot, found a parking place, and killed the engine. She popped the hatch and reached into the cargo area and removed the long and slender nylon pouch from one of the two tailgating chairs she kept back there. She slid Matt’s ax and the sawed-off shotgun into the pouch, walked inside, and made a beeline to the ladies’ room. It was a large restroom, very nice, with eight stalls and a triple granite-top vanity. There was a young woman, college age, standing at the mirror touching up her makeup.
    “How’s it going?” Shelly said.
    “Great, except my stupid boyfriend would rather stand outside and smoke cigarettes than come in here with me.”
    “Men.”
    “Yeah, tell me about it. Hey, what’s in the pouch?”
    Shelly pulled the ax out, and in a single swift motion buried the blade in the young woman’s skull. The sound of the sharpened steel breaking through bone and tearing into brain tissue made Shelly burst into laughter. Or maybe she was crying—she couldn’t really tell. She dragged the body across the marble floor to the stall farthest from the door, positioned it on the toilet, and closed the door.
    There were still seven stalls to go!

11:34 a.m.
     
    K-Rad was on his