Andrea tried to quell a sudden, staggering panic. She had chased a confession for days, and now that it was here, all she could think was that none of them were going to get out of this alive.
“Stilton,” she said. “Nardo has a gun.”
“So do I.” Stilton wrapped his fingers around the handle of the revolver, but he inexplicably left it holstered. He told Nardo, “You didn’t fuck her. You raped her.”
“What I did was fill every single hole that young lady had with my cock.” Nardo drank in Stilton’s look of horror. “She was gagging for it. She couldn’t get enough.”
“Nardo,” Ricky warned.
“Here.” Nardo cleared his throat and hurled a wad of phlegm on the floor. “Test my DNA against Judith’s. All that it will prove is that I came inside of her mother. Though if you must know, I came inside of Emily several times.”
The nerve at Stilton’s temple started to twitch. His fingers were so tightly wrapped around the grip of the revolver that his knuckles were white. He was going to shoot Nardo. There was no way around it. And he was so drunk he would probably end up killing Star in the process.
“Jack,” Andrea tried. “You need to—”
“What about Dean?” Stilton’s voice had caught on the man’s name. He looked stricken, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Dean drove her home.”
Nardo’s smirk turned into a sadistic grin. “Well, who knows what the old boy did in the car? Our Mr. Wexler certainly does like a girl who can’t say no.”
“Fucking hell,” Ricky said. “Nardo, shut your mouth.”
“As a point of interest, I think all the ladies at the farm are proof of the concept that the old boy can’t father a child.” Nardo couldn’t stop himself. He was reveling in Stilton’s anguish. “Tell me, Cheese. Is Emily why you turned to the bottle? Are you still mourning the loss of a brain-dead baby breeder?”
“Nardo!” Ricky yelled. “There’s a goddamn United States Marshal listening to every word you’re saying.”
“I am so fucking bored with this stupid fucking town. It’s been forty years and all anyone ever whines about is who’s-the-father-who’s-the-father?” Nardo’s voice had taken on a whiny mimic. “So now the deep, dark secret is out. Big fucking deal. Worst-case scenario, I get visitation rights with my gorgeous granddaughter.”
Stilton stood up so quickly he knocked over his chair. His gun was finally out. He pointed the revolver at Nardo’s chest. Cocked the hammer with his thumb. “It’s over, cocksucker. They know about the blackmail.”
“Star!” Andrea tried in vain to get her attention. She was downrange. Her back was a target. “Star, move!”
“Blackmail?” Nardo seemed unconcerned. “It’s been twenty years since you fixed that DUI for me. You’re the one who’ll get in trouble.”
Stilton laughed. “Not me, you dumb fuck. The judge. She gave them everything.”
For once, Nardo didn’t have a quick response.
Ricky was the one who answered. “What are you talking about?”
The knife was back in Ricky’s hand. Star was still in the line of fire. Andrea felt like her heart was shaking inside of her chest. Star would not move. Ricky was unpredictable. Stilton could barely hold his gun. Nardo was seconds away from having his hands on a weapon that could kill all of them.
“Cheese,” Nardo said. “You need to think about what you’re doing. Think about what I know.”
“Tell it to the Marshals. I don’t give a fuck anymore.” Stilton’s voice cracked again. He had started to cry. “That call I just got? That was the deputy chief Marshal. They already dragged Wexler out in handcuffs. They’re coming for your sorry ass right now. The next time you see daylight, it’s gonna be through prison bars.”
Star finally moved, but only to turn around. She asked Stilton, “Is Dean okay?”
“Nobody is okay.” Stilton walked toward Nardo. Tears streamed down his face. He had to use both hands to steady the revolver. “I promised Emily forty years ago that I would find the asshole who raped her. Forty years I’ve been hounded by that promise, you piece of shit. Forty goddamn years, and I got you. I finally got you.”
Nardo’s smirk was back. “Fuck you.”
Again, two things happened quickly, one right after the other.
Nardo reached his hand behind his back.
Stilton pulled the trigger.
The explosion was like a cannon going off. Andrea ducked down, hands covering her ears. She saw the right side of Nardo’s body jerk back. The bullet had ripped open his neck. Blood spattered Star’s face and chest.
Ricky started screaming.
“Fuh—” Nardo slapped his hand to the side of his neck. The SIG Sauer P365 clattered to the floor. His eyes had gone wide. His lips were trembling.
“Don’t move!” Stilton cocked back the hammer again, lining up for a second shot.
“No!” Andrea pushed down the muzzle. Nardo was unarmed. He was not going to pick up the SIG Sauer. He was not going to do anything for much longer.
There were two common carotid arteries, one on each side of the neck. The structures varied, but the point of each was to deliver oxygenated blood at a high volume from the heart to the brain. An aneurism, clot or obstruction to blood flow could cause a massive stroke. If the supply was diverted outside the body, then death by exsanguination could occur in five to fifteen seconds.
Nardo’s hand was the only thing keeping the blood inside of his artery.
“I’ll c-call an ambulance.” Ricky scrambled for the phone. She punched in the number.
“You murdered Emily,” Stilton told Nardo. “Tell me the words. Let me hear you say it.”
Nardo’s mouth opened. A gurgling sound came up from his throat. His teeth had started to chatter. His skin had turned waxy. Blood was seeping between his fingers like water through a sponge.
“Please,” Stilton begged. “You’re not going to make it. Just tell me the truth. I know you murdered her.”
“Help!” Ricky screamed into the phone. “My husband—he’s—oh, God! Help!”
“Say it,” Stilton said. “Look at me and say it.”
Nardo’s eyes focused, but only for a moment. He looked directly at Jack Stilton. The corner of his mouth quivered in a smile.
Stilton said, “Please—”
Nardo took away his hand, the gesture like a showman introducing the final act. A torrent of blood sprayed from the severed artery.
He was dead before he hit the ground.
Bible drove while Andrea sat in the back seat of the SUV with Ricky. The woman could not stop sobbing. She was shuddering under the thin cotton blanket from the ambulance. She had refused to go to the hospital. She had refused to make a statement. She had told them that all she wanted was to go home.
There was no legal reason to deny her wishes. Honestly, Andrea wanted nothing more than to get away from the diner. She knew she should be glad that Nardo was dead, but she could not get past the feeling of injustice. He would never pay for raping Emily. He would not stand trial for her murder. Even though his death had been violent, he had still somehow managed to go out on his own terms. He did not deserve a peaceful ending. As Esther Vaughn would say, he hadn’t earned it.