house were unlocked. Ben and I had been in the pool, we'd cooked steaks on the outdoor grill for dinner, so we'd been going in and out all evening. I hadn't yet locked up for the night.
"Oren simply came through the front door; at least I assume he used the front door since that's the way he went out. The time between him yanking open the shower curtain and my placing the 911 call couldn't have been more than a few minutes. It all happened in a blur."
"In your statement you said the man was maniacal."
"She said he was unhinged."
Berry looked quickly at Deputy Nyland again, surprised that he recalled the exact word she'd used to describe Oren's state of mind. "That's right. He was wild-eyed. He was sputtering. 'I must kill you. You realize that, don't you? I've got to kill you.'"
Beside her, Caroline shuddered and gripped her hand tighter.
"The instant I saw him and the pistol, I screamed. That seemed to rattle him even more. He was shushing me and repeating, 'I don't have a choice. I've got to do it. Don't you see? Don't you understand?' He spoke in a sort of chant. He was..."
The four of them looked at her expectantly. As she searched for the word, she looked at each of them in turn, ending on the deputy, whose gray gaze remained unwavering.
"Unhinged," she said with a helpless shrug. "That's the best word to describe him."
"Well, he went there to kill you," the lawyer remarked. "One wouldn't expect him to be rational."
"No."
"Had you ever seen this side of him before?" the sheriff asked.
"Only once, when he became extremely angry at me for rejecting him. But last night he was more upset than even then." She wished for a moment to ponder that, but when Nyland shot another look toward the door, she plowed on. "Ben must have heard my screams and Oren's raving. He came running from the guest bedroom. When he reached the bathroom door, Oren heard him, spun around, and fired the gun."
She paused, reliving that horrifying moment: the jarring sound, the unbelievable sight of Ben falling backward, the wild expression on Oren's face when he turned back to her. Through it, she'd told herself that this couldn't be happening, that traumatic, violent events like this didn't happen to normal, nice people like her.
But it had happened. She'd lived it. However, now as she tried to describe the scene and her feelings about it, she knew her words would be inadequate to convey what she'd felt at the time.
"All I can say is that it was unreal, and yet it was reality taken to another dimension. Every sensation was overblown. After the gun blast, I remember experiencing a sense of timelessness, of suspended animation. But then Oren suddenly turned and ran. That galvanized me. I climbed out of the tub. I paused only long enough to bend down and tell Ben that I would get help, then I ran from the room to see what Oren was doing, where he'd gone."
"You weren't afraid that he would shoot you also?"
"She explained that to Ski last night."
"Calm down, Harry," the sheriff said, mildly rebuking the attorney. "I only ask because I'm curious."
Harris Carlisle signaled for her to continue.
"Honestly I didn't think about it, or I probably wouldn't have done it," she said. "I acted on instinct. I went after Oren, and by the time I reached the gallery, he was rushing down the stairs. At the landing he lost his footing and fell. He tumbled all the way to the ground floor and landed on his back.
"He saw me watching him from the gallery. He struggled to get up. He pointed the pistol at me, and that's when I thought for certain that I would soon be dead. I threw myself to the floor, trying to take cover behind the railing. He pulled the trigger until the pistol was empty."
Her mother placed her hand over her mouth to contain a small, distressed sound.
"Miraculously, his shots missed," Berry continued. "When he realized he had no more bullets, he struggled to stand up. He was yelling, 'I'll kill you. You must die.' Things like that over and
"Oren simply came through the front door; at least I assume he used the front door since that's the way he went out. The time between him yanking open the shower curtain and my placing the 911 call couldn't have been more than a few minutes. It all happened in a blur."
"In your statement you said the man was maniacal."
"She said he was unhinged."
Berry looked quickly at Deputy Nyland again, surprised that he recalled the exact word she'd used to describe Oren's state of mind. "That's right. He was wild-eyed. He was sputtering. 'I must kill you. You realize that, don't you? I've got to kill you.'"
Beside her, Caroline shuddered and gripped her hand tighter.
"The instant I saw him and the pistol, I screamed. That seemed to rattle him even more. He was shushing me and repeating, 'I don't have a choice. I've got to do it. Don't you see? Don't you understand?' He spoke in a sort of chant. He was..."
The four of them looked at her expectantly. As she searched for the word, she looked at each of them in turn, ending on the deputy, whose gray gaze remained unwavering.
"Unhinged," she said with a helpless shrug. "That's the best word to describe him."
"Well, he went there to kill you," the lawyer remarked. "One wouldn't expect him to be rational."
"No."
"Had you ever seen this side of him before?" the sheriff asked.
"Only once, when he became extremely angry at me for rejecting him. But last night he was more upset than even then." She wished for a moment to ponder that, but when Nyland shot another look toward the door, she plowed on. "Ben must have heard my screams and Oren's raving. He came running from the guest bedroom. When he reached the bathroom door, Oren heard him, spun around, and fired the gun."
She paused, reliving that horrifying moment: the jarring sound, the unbelievable sight of Ben falling backward, the wild expression on Oren's face when he turned back to her. Through it, she'd told herself that this couldn't be happening, that traumatic, violent events like this didn't happen to normal, nice people like her.
But it had happened. She'd lived it. However, now as she tried to describe the scene and her feelings about it, she knew her words would be inadequate to convey what she'd felt at the time.
"All I can say is that it was unreal, and yet it was reality taken to another dimension. Every sensation was overblown. After the gun blast, I remember experiencing a sense of timelessness, of suspended animation. But then Oren suddenly turned and ran. That galvanized me. I climbed out of the tub. I paused only long enough to bend down and tell Ben that I would get help, then I ran from the room to see what Oren was doing, where he'd gone."
"You weren't afraid that he would shoot you also?"
"She explained that to Ski last night."
"Calm down, Harry," the sheriff said, mildly rebuking the attorney. "I only ask because I'm curious."
Harris Carlisle signaled for her to continue.
"Honestly I didn't think about it, or I probably wouldn't have done it," she said. "I acted on instinct. I went after Oren, and by the time I reached the gallery, he was rushing down the stairs. At the landing he lost his footing and fell. He tumbled all the way to the ground floor and landed on his back.
"He saw me watching him from the gallery. He struggled to get up. He pointed the pistol at me, and that's when I thought for certain that I would soon be dead. I threw myself to the floor, trying to take cover behind the railing. He pulled the trigger until the pistol was empty."
Her mother placed her hand over her mouth to contain a small, distressed sound.
"Miraculously, his shots missed," Berry continued. "When he realized he had no more bullets, he struggled to stand up. He was yelling, 'I'll kill you. You must die.' Things like that over and
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