Chapter 19: A Sticky Strike

“Scared,” Leighton asked, slightly shifting her head to talk over her shoulder.

“Not at all. Just hot.”

Phinn clutched the redhead’s waist for dear life as Queenie slowed to turn off the main trail. With the Appaloosa galloping at full speed, the bookish detective had visions of falling off her back and onto the trail. Cracking a skull at this juncture of the case wouldn’t be inopportune; it would be ruinous and likely deadly. So as the mare started down the narrow animal trail, Phinn’s grip strengthened as branches began slamming into him.

“Whatever you say.” Phinn didn’t need to see his client’s face to know she said it with a big grin.

The pair of teenagers mainly rode in silence for the next ten minutes in the increasingly humid air. Phinn hated the stickiness that covered his skin. Occasionally, Leighton yelled a warning to duck or lean in one direction or another to avoid a low-lying branch. The experienced naturalist had warned that this section would be the most treacherous for horseback riding.

Eventually, they emerged onto the same animal trail that Phinn and Jake had found a few days ago. With a lower risk of getting knocked off or out by a branch, Leighton used the opportunity to ask a few questions.

“What makes you think Catherine is at the shack, but Portia and Karter are by the shed?”

“Karter’s been trained to use the shed,” Phineas stated.

“Trained? Do you mean with the hypnosis you mentioned?”

“Yep. We don’t have time to get into my theory, but Portia is connected to Flamand’s plan with Karter,” Phinn explained vaguely. “All you need to remember right now is that they’re the two wealthiest guests at your family’s summer home.”

“Okay,” Leighton acknowledged, pausing for a moment. “I guess that means Portia and Karter are the goldmines for JP. Tell me why you think Cat is in the most danger. Isn’t she rich or famous enough to be useful to him?”

“I’m almost certain that her allergic reaction served as a warning to back off. Or it truly was a **** attempt.”

“Back off?”

“Because Flamand knew Catherine Dall could be a threat to him,” Phinn replied.

“A threat? So that’s why he kidnapped her?”

“No, by now, Cat needs to be eliminated. Still, Flamand needs to learn what she knows about him. For instance, does Cat know his real name?”

“Ohmigawd! Why does Cat need to be killed?” Leighton exclaimed.

“Well, Flamand might have tried to kill her with the peanuts. Then, she took a shot at him–”

“Cat’s the person who shot Flamand?!”

“Of course. I thought you realized that by now,” Phinn said, slightly annoyed that no one else ever seemed to connect the dots. “It’s not a coincidence that Flamand nearly took a bullet to the brain the morning after Ms. Dall returned from the hospital.”

“I don’t–”

“Hold onto your questions,” Phinn interrupted, risking the removal of a hand from her waist to emphasize his point. “I’ll explain fully after we’ve finished.”

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Leighton slowed Queenie almost to a stop.

“We’re getting close to where the trail comes out by the shack. I want to get a look before leading Queenie out of the forest, so let’s get off here,” the redhead explained.

“You don’t want to leave her on this trail?”

“No, I’d prefer to lead her past the shack and around the curve to where the road ends. Just in case we need to get out of here in a hurry,” Leighton replied.

“Alright, just as long as we don’t risk being heard or seen,” Phinn warned.

Seconds later, while attempting to dismount the Appaloosa, Phinn promptly fell to the ground with a loud thud and a shout.

“Ohmigawd! Are you hurt?”

“I’ll be sore tomorrow,” Phinn speculated rather than directly answering. Instead, he struggled to hide the pain he felt in the left side of his body. Nothing seemed broken, only banged hard.

“Are you sure?” Leighton double-checked, expertly dismounting.

Almost immediately, the redhead started giggling as Phinn gingerly got to his feet, seemingly more concerned about wiping any dirt from his clothes. Not appreciating the laughter, he glared at Leighton until he made eye contact with Queenie, after the horse whined.

“I see you trained her to be just like you,” Phinn growled, feeling as if the Appaloosa laughed at him as well.

Rather than issue a snarky comeback, Leighton held her tongue. Grabbing Queenie’s reins, she led the mare nearly up to the end of the animal trail. Leaning forward, she peeked around before motioning for Phinn to join her. Together, they saw a car parked several feet away from the shack, which had light shining out of its tiny, open window.

“No SUV,” Phinn noted, meaning the one that nearly ran them over last night.

“Maybe they didn’t have time to grab it,” Leighton speculated.

“Or only Flamand or Selene is inside.”

“Either way, I’m taking Queenie past,” the horsewoman announced.

“Fine,” Phinn said, deciding not to argue. “I’m gonna try to see what’s happening inside.”

Stepping aside to allow Leighton to walk Queenie out onto the dirt road, Phinn also slid his backpack off. Crouching, he pulled out a small container and a short wooden handle. Attaching the handle to the small container, he snuck over to the car before stopping. Surveying the area, Phinn darted across the open road until he reached the side of the shack with the tiny window.

Unwilling to risk directly looking inside the tiny room, Phinn silently snapped open the pocket mirror. It took several attempts to adjust the angle perfectly to get a glimpse inside using the mirror without being caught. Satisfied, Phinn hurried down and around the curve until he met Leighton, who loosely laid the reins around a branch.

“Stay here, girl,” Leighton told Queenie, earning a sigh in response.

“Catherine is inside. She’s bound and gagged on the bed springs,” Phinn reported. “Flamand’s searching bags and luggage, which I assume are Cat’s.”

“What should we do?” the civilian asked, inexperienced in these situations.

“Watch and wait for now,” Phinn responded, surprising Leighton.

“But I thought Cat–”

“Yes, she’s in danger, but I want to see if Selene returns first,” Phinn explained. “Don’t worry, I’ll check inside periodically to ensure Cat’s safety. And I get that we appear to have the numbers advantage right now. However, we don’t know if he’s armed or not.”

Returning to the bend, they agreed to watch from this location until Phinn took another peek. Yet, two events happened rapidly. First, the shack’s door whipped open, sending a swath of light out of the shack. The man who currently calls himself Jean-Paul Flamand stormed over to his vehicle and used the key fob to pop open the trunk.

Phinn quickly thanked himself for not using the car as cover while hiding as Flamand stopped at the rear before leaning around to check the passenger side. Satisfied with whatever concern he had, the conman reached into the trunk, pulling out another large suitcase before returning to the shack.

As soon as the door shut, Leighton slapped Phinn’s chest with the back of her hand. Gesturing rapidly, she pointed out a shadowy figure slipping out from behind the trees near the passenger side of Flamand’s car.

Interesting. That’s who raised Flamand’s sixth sense, Phinn noted. The sleuth and his client watched as the man silently pulled the handle of the front passenger door. Ah, good catch! He didn’t lock the car before going back inside.

Watching until the man crawled inside, Phinn waited until the dangerous domelight flicked off when the door closed. Then, he indicated that Leighton should take a few steps back so that they couldn’t be seen.

“Who’s that?” the redhead whispered.

“Dark jacket and hood raised,” Phinn stated, noting two details. “I suspect that’s our mysterious watcher in the woods. We need a weapon.”

They quickly spread out, searching the edge of the forest along the dirty road. Phinn found a decent rock while Leighton grabbed a sturdy branch, about the size of a baseball bat. Somewhat embarrassed by his underwhelming choice compared to hers, Phinn revealed that he wanted to subdue the watcher without alerting Flamand.

“You stay here while I find my way through the woods to come up from behind him. When he gets out of the car, and you see me sneaking up, distract him.”

“Oh, no. You’ll either get lost in the forest or make too much noise,” Leighton said, seeing the future events clearly in her mind. “I’ll sneak up, and you can distract him. Go that?”

“I don’t know. How about…Fuck, she’s about as bad as Dusty,” Phinn grumbled, watching as Leighton vanished behind several trees. “Dammit.”

Ignoring Queenie's snickering nicker, the teen detective returned to the road’s curve. The mysterious watcher appeared to have turned on a flashlight to search the vehicle. Then, a slight clunk broke the night’s silence.

Guessing what probably made the sound, Phinn nodded as the man slipped out of the car to walk around to the trunk. Lifting it open, the watcher appeared to swiftly search its contents. Suddenly, Leighton appeared about ten feet behind the man.

“Shit,” Phinn hissed under his breath.

Picking up a few pebbles, the young investigator scrambled forward. As Leighton slowly approached, Phinn nearly reached the front of the sedan before he felt **** to act. Tossing the pebbles at the passenger side, Phinn didn’t need to see the watcher’s reaction. Startled, he or she lowered the trunk’s lid enough that they saw each other.

Unlike his point-blank success last night with the alleged werewolf, Phinn’s throw badly missed. The rock whizzed past over the watcher’s left shoulder. Fortunately, the watcher’s gaze followed the rock enough that his head turned to the side. The left an open target for Leighton as she swung the branch like a baseball bat.

THWACK

The junior private eye cringed at the sound of Leighton’s hit. He winced further as she recocked the branch and hit the watcher again.

KLUNK

The ginger’s head swung around to gaze at Phinn in horror after the watcher’s collapse caused the trunk to shut loudly. Accustomed to events going wrong during cases, Phinn rushed forward to grab the watcher’s arms. Not needing an explanation, Leighton took hold of the watcher’s legs. They’d barely managed to drag the **** person behind the car when the shack’s door opened again.

Luckily, two owls chose that moment to hoot before one flew out from the forest toward the marsh water. Still, a long ten seconds passed until the light vanished as Flamand shut the door.

Leighton let out a deep breath while Phinn went straight to work. Pulling out a pen-sized flashlight, he shone it at the watcher’s face. Only they saw the same modified beekeeper mask that Phinn had seen before. Handing over the light, Phinn pulled off the mask and the windbreaker’s hood.

Underneath, they saw a dark-skinned man, approximately thirty years old.

“Oh, no,” Leighton groaned, causing Phinn’s attention to switch to her. “It’s Vince.”

“Vince? Wait, the gardener? The one who recently quit?”

“Uh-huh,” the redhead nodded, frowning as she studied the ex-gardener. “It didn’t make any sense. He’s as much part of the family as Marie.”

“Curious,” the young sleuth remarked, pondering the possibilities. Suddenly, he spotted a light in the distance. “Quick, we need to hide him!”

Working together, the two teens dragged the **** man over to the brush. They barely had time to roll him behind the first batch of foliage before they needed to hide, too. A vehicle approached from the direction of the main road.

Phinn and Leighton watched silently as an SUV pulled up, parking sideways behind Flamand’s car. Unsurprisingly, Selene hopped down from the diver’s seat. Nearly simultaneously, the shack's door opened yet again. The additional light caused the teens to back away from the bush slightly to hide better.

They saw Flamand stroll over to the SUV, but lost sight of him once he reached the vehicle. A brief, muffled conversation occurred until Flamand raised his voice.

“You left them at the shed?!”

Selene’s reply continued in a muffled tone.

“Why? We no longer need to run that scenario. We can’t, even if we wanted to. What were you thinking?” Flamand’s voice and anger steadily rose with each sentence. “Now we’ll need to go back there to get them!”

“It will be fine!” Selene responded, finally raising her voice. “I have an idea that works far better.”

“Enlighten me!”

“Let’s deal with Dall first. How is it going?” Selene inquired, walking into the area that the teens could see.

“She’s still holding out, and I’m searching her things,” Flamand relayed, following his assistant toward the shack.

“I’ll make her talk,” Selene vowed, as the door slammed shut.

“Ohmigawd! Are they going to **** Cat?” Leighton half-shrieked. She started to suggest they call the sheriff, then stopped. “What are you doing?”

“Returning the favor to buy us some insurance,” Phinn declared, flipping open a pocketknife. “Stay here.”

“Wait, what is that for?” Leighton challenged before throwing her hands out in defeat as Phinn hopped out from behind the bushes.

The redhead swiftly learned the detective’s intention when Phinn hurried over to the car’s passenger side to deliver several stabs at the rear tire. He repeated the procedure on the front tire before dashing around the sedan’s hood.

Watching the tires start to sag, Leighton held her breath as Phinn had exposed his presence to anyone who opened the shack’s door. Unable to see him, she stared at the shack, willing its door to stay closed. Finally, movement to Leighton’s left caused her to turn her head. Frustratingly, Phinn chose to dart from the car to the SUV rather than return to the safety of the forest.

To Leighton’s horror, a stream of light caused her to swing her head back to the shack. The door had reopened. Shifting back to Phinn, she watched him finish jabbing at the front passenger tire. Thankfully, he noticed the increased brightness as voices filtered out, rushing around the SUV’s front.

“I don’t know anything about that!” Catherine denied, revealing that her gag had been removed.

“Liar!” Flamand screamed before issuing a different question.

“I forgot something out in the car. I’ll be right back,” a voice announced.

Ducking behind the driver’s side of the SUV, Phinn hoped that Selene would overlook the slashed tires when she went to the sedan. However, the crackling of a couple of twigs under her shoes alerted him to her approach. Risking a peek, he raised himself enough to peer through the vehicle.

Of course, she merely referred to the SUV as a car, as many people do, Phinn noted. Unsure of what front door she might use, he moved toward the rear. Unfortunately, the sound of the rear hatch unlocking left Phinn in a pickle. The junior investigator estimated the distance to the forest from his position.

Too far…and I’d be heading into Selene’s possible sightline.

Watching with increased anxiety, Leighton began to consider options for distracting Selene as the pale, dark-haired woman walked toward the SUV's rear. Unable to decide, she slid out from behind the bush to watch the woman lift the rear hatch before stopping. Then, Leighton nearly freaked out as Selene checked the driver's side. Thankfully, no scream or shout for help followed. Instead, the worried teen saw Selene pull out a small bag or purse and a long object that sent chills down her spine.

Underneath the SUV, Phinn scooted closer to the passenger side once Selene had finished her business. From his low angle, Phinn watched the assistant return to the shack carrying a bag. She also appeared to be hiding something behind her back, which intrigued and worried the gumshoe. Even more curiously, she placed the item against the shack, just outside the door. Also, this time the door remained open.

Still below the SUV, Phinn stabbed the two rear tires before sliding out. With a brief check of the shack, he darted over to the side of the car. A quick wave brought Leighton over.

“Did you see the gun?” she asked.

“It looks like a shotgun,” Phinn acknowledged. “Plus, they’ve removed Cat’s gag for questioning. I don’t think we have much time.”

“Are they going to use the gun to scare her or to…” Leighton didn’t want to finish the unspeakable thought.

“I don’t know. Something feels off,” Phinn commented.

Both teens could hear the raised voices and sharp tongues coming from inside the shack. Having dealt with dangerous situations for the past half dozen years or so, Phinn watched that leaning shotgun closely. Without hesitation, he made up his mind.

“I’m going for the gun.”

“What?! Are you insane?”

“Now’s the time to move before they use it,” Phinn said, already moving toward the car’s hood. “If this takes a turn, take Queenie to get help. My walkie-talkie is in that bag. You’ll need to get closer for Jake to get a signal.”

Taking a risk, Phinn darted out from behind the car and toward the shack. This time, he rushed over to the opposite side of the window. Stopping to catch his breath and listen, Phinn prepared to make the final move for the firearm...until the conversation in the shack caught his attention.

“I didn’t kill anyone!”

“Bullshit! You tried to kill me the other day,” Flamand reminded.

“And I missed that tiny brain of yours!” Catherine shot back.

“Don’t get smart with me, bitch. I know you killed my brother. Who else could’ve?”

“I thought you suspected Marr?” Selene queried.

“Don’t ruin my moment!” Flamand snapped. “How would Marr even know where to find Grove? Let alone under his Wolfram alias. It’s a new name.”

“Well, you don’t know! It could be that guy who’s been watching the house,” Selene suggested.

“No, I know this bitch killed him. She’s going to pay for it,” Flamand vowed. “And once we’re done, I’ll fix everything, including those two brats.”

The gears in Phinn’s brain immediately started to whirl.

“You leave those kids alone!” Cat yelled. “They had nothing to do with my plan.”

“So you admit that you had a plan. Oh, I know the reason why, but my problem with those junior meddlers is none of your business. Their kind is the worst!”

“Where’s the evidence, Dall?” Selene demanded. “Tell me or else.”

“Oh, she’ll tell.”

“Seriously? You’re going to place her under to get the truth,” Selene scoffed. “I should’ve known you didn’t have the stomach to do what’s necessary.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that you’ve always been weak, Glenn. Everyone knows it in our line of work. Hell, Grove told me that he knew it when you were still kids.”

“The hell, Diane? I’ve lined your pockets over the years.”

“You’re an incredible earner. I’ll admit that. It’s why everyone loves to work with you. You see the long-term con, unlike your brother. Grove was always focused on short money. Do the scam and get out quickly. That’s always been his blind spot, which morphed into weakness,” Selene/Diane explained. “It’s why he screwed up the Ammon scam and landed us in prison.”

Oh! Okay, this makes sense, Phinn told himself. In response, he started to creep down the front of the shack toward the shotgun.

“We don’t have time for this! You can complain once we’re finished here,” Flamand declared.

“No, you mean once I’m finished,” the alabaster-skinned woman said, taking several steps back. Reaching out, she picked up the shotgun without shifting her focus off the people inside the one-room building.

Phinn kicked himself for not grabbing the gun earlier after she stepped back inside.

“What are you doing, Diane?”

“You’ve always been brilliant, Glenn, but also clueless. You could sell an idea to the most suspicious people out there. You did as an archaeologist, an oil baron, and a Hollywood producer. Every con made money, but they should’ve made more and lasted longer. Your weakness is being flashy and wanting as much pussy as possible.”

“So what? You were barely even involved in those schemes.”

“Don’t try that. Move away from the knife, Glenn. You’ve never been any good with weapons. Oh, don’t worry, bimbo. I’ll get to you after I’m done with my ex-partner.”

Something finally clicked in Jean-Paul Flamand/Glenn Atwood's brain. Neither Phinn nor Selene could believe it took this long, not with a shotgun already pointed at him.

“You! You killed Grover!”

“Ding-dong! I’d say the witch is dead, but I know how you get about witches,” Selene mocked. “It’s been staring you in the face for days. But your obsession with actresses once again distracted you. The same for your irrational hatred of punk kids playing detectives.”

“Watch your tongue, whore,” Flamand growled.

“Please. You’ve never gotten your hands dirty…ever! But you always had far more potential. Grover and Rowan were fools. They could never see the potential in your hypnosis side hustle. Thought it took too long. But I saw the potential,” Selene boasted. “That’s why I encouraged this whole spiritual advisor scam, but you’ve been so beaten down by your brother’s views that you couldn’t comprehend its full vision. This has the makings of a decade-long ring of theft. Yet, just like the Hollywood thing, you’ve let starlet pussy cloud your judgment. Bastardizing the idea into some cult for beautiful celebrities. I won’t make that mistake.”

“What? You’re going to run my con? How?” Flamand scoffed, laughing.

“Trust me. I’ve spent years studying your technique. I’m confident I’ve perfected my version. Too bad, I’ll have to wait a few years until the heat dies down to pick up the pieces. When Savoy and those teens' bodies are found, the heat is going to ratchet up. Fortunately, I’ll have Terstad’s fortune to pass the time. He’s going to be so grateful for my help, now that he thinks he’s cursed.”

“What have you done?” Flamand demanded.

“Things you’ve been too weak to do,” Selene announced, shifting the shotgun.

“Holy shit! Talk about a long-winded gloat,” Phinn clapped, announcing his presence and survival.

As Selene attempted to swing the shotgun in his direction, the teen detective pushed her arm enough that it wasn’t pointed in Cat’s direction. Then, he stabbed her wrist with his pocketknife.

“Ahhh!” Selene shrieked painfully.

BOOM

The dropped shotgun roared as the blast barely missed Flamand.

A mad scramble for the gun ensued as Selene, Jean-Paul, and Phinn punched, scratched, bit, and kicked. Eventually, the murderous assistant stabbed her old boss with the pocketknife while attempting to slice the teen. Phinn recovered in time to grab the shotgun. After Flamand tossed Selene out the door, he yanked the knife from his arm right before Phinn swung the gun at his head.

The blow knocked the older man to the floor. However, the gun slipped out of Phinn’s hands, sending it flying outside into the darkness. Before the sleuth could go to recover it, Flamand’s elbow caught the side of his face, sending him tumbling into the table.

“Don’t let her get away!” Phinn yelled.

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with her and your cocky partner once I’m finished with your smart mouth!” the con artist vowed, as a car door slammed.

Phinn took advantage of Flamand glancing out the door to do two things. First, ever paranoid about breaking his glasses, Phinn took the time to place them on the windowsill. Second, he swung one of the rickety chairs at Flamand. Unfortunately, he didn’t do much damage after losing the brief advantage. The surprisingly strong man caught the chair to launch a more severe counterattack against the teen.

“Is that the worst you can dish out?” Phinn mocked, figuring his best chance would be to enrage Flamand enough that he might find a moment to sucker punch him with an object. Keeping that in mind, the junior investigator played up the notion that Jake, not Leighton, had accompanied him. “Your partner just called you a pussy. Jake’s going to have a field day with you.”

“Shut your sniveling mouth up!” Flamand roared, backhanding Phinn. “You know nothing about me!”

“I know plenty, Mattias Janus.”

“How do you know that name?” Flamand roared, picking Phinn off the ground before tossing him at the woodstove.

“Let’s see…I know about your buddy Hoyt Sutter,” Phinn said, facing the floor as he picked himself partially up. “Errol Ladd? I mean, come on, show some originality, Glenn.”

“Shut up!”

Phinn grimaced after three sharp kicks to his ribs.

I’m sick of taking a beating. Jake needs to share in this shit!

“I know that Rowan Marr never had a chance to kill your brother.” The remark caused Flamand to halt his kicks while catching his breath. “The fucking fool got caught playing a mummy by a no-name mystery-solving group. Sound familiar?”

“Aargh!” Flamand bellowed, unleashing four more kicks; only Phinn managed to roll over so that his other ribs took the pummeling.

“Too…bad…that Leighton…didn’t call up the…Gotcha Gems… for help,” Phinn wheezed between painful gasps for air. “They’re gorgeous, sexy, rich girls who would’ve busted you within forty-eight hours once they saw you for the creep you are.”

“You know those sluts?!” Flamand demanded to know, towering over Phinn.

“Ah, right. They put Grover and Diane in jail, didn’t they?”

Either the smartass question or the smirk led to Phinn getting picked up, swung around in the air, and tossed into the opposite rear corner of the room. His shoulder hit the blanket-covered cooler near the top of the bedframe. He hoped Leighton was faring better outside, but he knew he’d better find his moment soon.

Catherine provided an opening by swinging her tied legs around to kick Flamand. While that bought her a slap across the face, it allowed Phinn to grab the cooler’s handle so that he could throw it at the con artist.

“I strike a nerve, Glenn? You don’t like my kind, do you? Mommy issues, right?”

Catherine mumbled loudly behind the gag. She basically attempted to tell Phinn to stop egging Flamand on.

Instead, Phinn found himself tossed around the room again, this time landing near the doorway.

“I’ve…always wondered…record has it that…Whiskey Witch…came from the distillery or region she haunted…but tell me the truth, Glenn. Your lush mom loved to drinky-winky, didn’t she?”

Any sign of Jean-Pau Flamand vanished as a now deranged Glenn Atwood grabbed Phinn’s throat with his left hand. With his right hand, he rained a series of punches down at the helpless teen. Frightened by the ****, Catherine fell off the bed springs in an attempt to stop Atwood.

BOOM

The gunshot off in the distance stopped the enraged man. With a sinister smile, Atwood looked down at Phineas.

“If Diane didn’t finish off your friend, I will. Then, I’m going to find those Question fucks who ruined my mother and make them pay. You remind me of their arrogant leader!” Atwood stated.

With the furious man towering over him, Phinn slid a hand down to his side. When he saw that Atwood caught the movement, the beaten teen spat a wad of blood directly into his face. Pulling out the only remaining item from his right pocket, Phinn gripped the object firmly and swung it upward.

“Aaaiiiieeeee!!!” Atwood shrieked, clutching his face while falling off the teen.

Staggering to his feet, Phinn stepped around the writhing man to grab his eyeglasses.

“What did you do?!” the con artist cried, gingerly touching the silver fork that Phinn had stabbed into his right eyeball.

“That’s for comparing me to Rex Hardaway, asshole. I’m nothing like that grandstander. He might have put your bitch mom in jail, but you’ll remember the name Phineas Farris. I’m the snooping brat that ruined you,” Phinn declared, deciding at the last second not to physically kick Atwood while he was down.

Spotting his pocketknife on the floor near the woodstove, Phinn swiftly cut the rope around Catherine’s wrists. After removing the gag, he asked about her condition.

“I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Here,” Phinn said, handing over the knife. “I need to check on Leighton.”

“I got this. Go!” the older actress directed, already leaning over to cut the rope around her ankles.

Stumbling out the door, Phinn looked to his left and his right. He didn’t see Leighton or Selene. A second scan did spot a bobbling beam of light on the dirt road to his right, in the direction of the main road.

Wincing in pain, Phinn used the shack to prop himself up until he ran out of support. Without the building blocking his view, Phinn stopped to gape at one of the strangest sights in his life.

Selene waded through the marsh water with her hands on top of her head. The beam of light shone into her back, held by Leighton with a shotgun resting across her lap—all this while on top of Queenie, who trotted slowly in the water.

“The dumb bitch tried to escape Queenie through the marsh,” the redhead announced, causing Phinn to chuckle painfully.