over again. Then he turned and staggered through the front door."
After a short silence, Nyland asked, "He didn't reload?"
"No."
"He just ran away, vowing to kill you."
"That's right."
"Which is consistent with what she told you last night, Ski," the lawyer reminded him.
"Yeah, I know." He held Berry's gaze, and she could see wheels spinning behind the gray eyes. "Lofland was down. You were otherwise alone and defenseless."
"Yes."
"Starks had you in the bathtub, where he could have shot you at point-blank range. Instead, he made out like he was going to flee. Then you went after him, still defenseless, right?"
"Right."
"You didn't have your pistol yet?"
"No."
"Starks emptied his pistol from a dicey angle and at a distance of ... what? Thirty feet?"
"I suppose. I don't know."
The sheriff leaned forward. "What are you driving at, Ski?"
He looked at his boss. "If Starks was that intent on killing her, saying he must, saying she had to die and so on, why didn't he shoot her in the bathtub? Why sputter threats against her life, then turn and run, when he could have popped her right then? Doesn't make sense to me."
"People do crazy things," the sheriff said. "He chickened out. He saw God. Who knows? When push came to shove, the best he could do was threaten her life, not actually take it."
"I guess," the deputy said, sounding unconvinced.
"I can only recount what happened, Deputy Nyland," Berry said. "I can't explain Oren's behavior. I don't know why he didn't seize his opportunity and shoot me dead. But I'm glad he didn't."
"Goes without saying," he mumbled.
"Please go on, Berry," the sheriff urged. "What happened next?"
"Once Oren was out of sight, I ran back into the bedroom and called 911 on Mother's landline. I hadn't heard a car engine, so I wasn't absolutely certain that Oren had left the premises. Because I was afraid he would come back, I took a pistol from the drawer of the nightstand. I had put it there the day I moved into the lake house."
"Even after leaving Houston, she feared for her safety against this guy," the lawyer said. "She bought the pistol as a precaution, Tom. It's registered to her, and she has a license to carry."
"I believe you, Harry," the sheriff said around an impatient sigh. "My wife keeps a twenty-two in her nightstand drawer except when the grandkids are visiting." He turned back to Berry.
"There's really nothing more," she said. "I stayed there in the bedroom with Ben until the paramedics arrived."
The sheriff expelled a long breath. "We're lucky you're with us today."
Caroline solemnly agreed.
"What's the latest on Ben Lofland's condition?" the sheriff asked.
"Fair," Nyland reported. "He's in surgical recovery. His wife's with him."
Berry knew he'd thrown in that last part just to embarrass her. She shot him a dirty look, but he was addressing the sheriff and didn't see it. "Houston PD and Harris County S.O. are assisting us in trying to run down Starks."
"You got the arrest warrant?"
"Right here," he said, patting his breast pocket. "I stopped at the DA's office on my way here." He glanced at Berry. "That's why I was late."
"Does Starks have any prior arrests?"
Nyland looked back at the sheriff and shook his head. "No criminal record. Clean as a whistle. Not even an outstanding parking ticket. He's not at his house, although the car registered to him is in his garage."
"He would have rented a car," Berry said.
"No record of that."
"Okay then, he'd've stolen one," she said, testily. "Or borrowed one. Or roller-skated. I don't know how he got here. I just know he's too smart to have used his own car if he came here with the intention of killing me."
Caroline intervened. "Deputy Nyland, we might feel better about the situation if you outlined for us the efforts being made to capture him."
His flinty eyes shifted to Caroline. "Yes, ma'am. While I was interviewing Ms. Malone last night, other deputies were notifying the sheriffs of surrounding counties. They
After a short silence, Nyland asked, "He didn't reload?"
"No."
"He just ran away, vowing to kill you."
"That's right."
"Which is consistent with what she told you last night, Ski," the lawyer reminded him.
"Yeah, I know." He held Berry's gaze, and she could see wheels spinning behind the gray eyes. "Lofland was down. You were otherwise alone and defenseless."
"Yes."
"Starks had you in the bathtub, where he could have shot you at point-blank range. Instead, he made out like he was going to flee. Then you went after him, still defenseless, right?"
"Right."
"You didn't have your pistol yet?"
"No."
"Starks emptied his pistol from a dicey angle and at a distance of ... what? Thirty feet?"
"I suppose. I don't know."
The sheriff leaned forward. "What are you driving at, Ski?"
He looked at his boss. "If Starks was that intent on killing her, saying he must, saying she had to die and so on, why didn't he shoot her in the bathtub? Why sputter threats against her life, then turn and run, when he could have popped her right then? Doesn't make sense to me."
"People do crazy things," the sheriff said. "He chickened out. He saw God. Who knows? When push came to shove, the best he could do was threaten her life, not actually take it."
"I guess," the deputy said, sounding unconvinced.
"I can only recount what happened, Deputy Nyland," Berry said. "I can't explain Oren's behavior. I don't know why he didn't seize his opportunity and shoot me dead. But I'm glad he didn't."
"Goes without saying," he mumbled.
"Please go on, Berry," the sheriff urged. "What happened next?"
"Once Oren was out of sight, I ran back into the bedroom and called 911 on Mother's landline. I hadn't heard a car engine, so I wasn't absolutely certain that Oren had left the premises. Because I was afraid he would come back, I took a pistol from the drawer of the nightstand. I had put it there the day I moved into the lake house."
"Even after leaving Houston, she feared for her safety against this guy," the lawyer said. "She bought the pistol as a precaution, Tom. It's registered to her, and she has a license to carry."
"I believe you, Harry," the sheriff said around an impatient sigh. "My wife keeps a twenty-two in her nightstand drawer except when the grandkids are visiting." He turned back to Berry.
"There's really nothing more," she said. "I stayed there in the bedroom with Ben until the paramedics arrived."
The sheriff expelled a long breath. "We're lucky you're with us today."
Caroline solemnly agreed.
"What's the latest on Ben Lofland's condition?" the sheriff asked.
"Fair," Nyland reported. "He's in surgical recovery. His wife's with him."
Berry knew he'd thrown in that last part just to embarrass her. She shot him a dirty look, but he was addressing the sheriff and didn't see it. "Houston PD and Harris County S.O. are assisting us in trying to run down Starks."
"You got the arrest warrant?"
"Right here," he said, patting his breast pocket. "I stopped at the DA's office on my way here." He glanced at Berry. "That's why I was late."
"Does Starks have any prior arrests?"
Nyland looked back at the sheriff and shook his head. "No criminal record. Clean as a whistle. Not even an outstanding parking ticket. He's not at his house, although the car registered to him is in his garage."
"He would have rented a car," Berry said.
"No record of that."
"Okay then, he'd've stolen one," she said, testily. "Or borrowed one. Or roller-skated. I don't know how he got here. I just know he's too smart to have used his own car if he came here with the intention of killing me."
Caroline intervened. "Deputy Nyland, we might feel better about the situation if you outlined for us the efforts being made to capture him."
His flinty eyes shifted to Caroline. "Yes, ma'am. While I was interviewing Ms. Malone last night, other deputies were notifying the sheriffs of surrounding counties. They
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