Expecting to Die

Difficult, my ass. A girl is dead! She wasn’t about to apologize to this jerk-
wad. “So what happened to the body you left on the road—the dummy?”
“I picked it up. Still have it. In a shed at my dad’s place.”
“I’ll want to see it.”
“Of course,” Diane said before Kip could argue. “My client has offered full
disclosure for leniency,” she said, reminding both Alvarez and Kip Bell of their

---

deal.
“So did Kywin kill Destiny Rose Montclaire?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Kip said. “But . . . but Lindsay thought so.”
“How did the ape suit get in Marjory Tufts’s car?”
“I put it there,” he admitted. “I saw it parked in the dealership lot one night—
she was out with her husband in his car and had left it there with the keys in it. It
was parked out back, no cameras and no one was looking. I wanted it out of my
rig, so I took a chance. I figured no one would ever find it.”
“Guess you figured wrong.” She leaned forward and looked him straight in
the eye. “So where’s your brother? Where’s Kywin? I really need to talk to him.”
“I don’t know, Detective,” he said. “And that’s the fuckin’ truth!”
* * *
The truck shuddered to a stop, engine still thrumming in the darkness. Bianca
forced herself to wait, to pretend that the effects of the stun gun hadn’t worn off.
When her assailants came to do whatever it was they were planning, she’d lay
there, still twitching, and act as if she were still tied and not in control of her
body. The twine still covered her wrists, she’d retied pieces around each of them
and held them tightly together, the little knife in her right palm.
Could she pull this off? she wondered, looking up, through the lacy canopy of
branches, to a slice of moon. Thank God for the darkness. She swallowed hard,
every muscle tight, her heart trip-hammering wildly.
Stay calm, Bianca. You can do this. Just keep your wits about you. Don’t
panic. Do not freak.
They were strong and fast and determined. She was lithe and smart and scared
out of her mind. She felt a surge of adrenaline as the two doors opened
simultaneously. The engine was cut, lights still illuminating the forest in front of
the truck, the sudden silence deafening.
The passenger said, “Get her out. I gotta take a piss!” Tophman. She knew it
was that loser Tophman! Cowering in the bed, trying to get her courage pulled
together, she heard boots drop to the ground, one set of footprints heading away,
into the beam of the headlights, the other, from the driver’s side, coming around
the truck.
Her pulse pounded in her brain.
There was just enough ambient light filtering from the headlights that she
could see him, his big body hulking around the side.
Oh, God. Help me.
With a metal squeak, the tailgate fell open.

---

Could she do it?
Leaning forward, Kywin Bell reached inside to grab her by the legs and pull
her out of the truck.
Now!
Before he clamps a hand over your ankle.
Quick as a rattler striking, she kicked. Hard as she could. Hitting him hard in
the face with her good foot, jamming the heel of her boot into his nose.
“Yeeeooowww!” Screaming, he fell backward a step. “What the fuck?” he
cried, grabbing his head, stumbling to one knee.
Blood gushed out of his nose and ran down his face.
She scooted closer and hauled back.
Bam! She kicked him again. Harder. Aiming directly at his nose and eyes
rather than kicking blindly.
Crack!
The cartilage in his nose splintered and he fell onto his butt. Another piercing
yell.
“Hey!” Tophman. “What’s going on?”
She rolled out of the bed, her feet landing only inches from the half-blind
Kywin. Before he could get his brain around the fact that she was escaping, she
took off, running into the darkness, fast as she could, branches slapping at her
face, cobwebs clinging to her hair, pine needles scratching her skin. Down the
hill, faster and faster, her bad ankle screaming, her heart pounding, her brain on
fire. At least her body was responding, but how far could she go, how long
before he ran her to ground, tracked her like a lion on a wounded gazelle?