Page 110 of Strangers She Knows

Taking the dynamite, she used one moment of precious time to hesitate, to think. What more could she do to ensure success?

The blue can against the wall called her to attention.

Kerosene.

Highly flammable.

Yes! Exactly what she needed.

She placed an empty six-fluid-ounce Coke bottle on the workbench. The blue can had a spout; she removed the cap and poured a thin stream of kerosene into the bottle. Pungent, oily fumes filled the garage; she leaned over and shoved the window open. No need to advertise her intentions to Mara. Kellen used electrical tape to cover the neck of the Coke bottle, then united the bottle and the dynamite with the same tape.

The perfect incendiary device. Not bad for a beginner—if it worked.

She ran to the truck. As if she was sliding into home base, she slipped under the driver’s side door and taped the dynamite, and the bottle, to the gas-tank-filler tube.

The tank was located under the truck’s cab.

She knew the tank was about half full.

She knew fumes rose off the surface of the gas and saturated the empty space in the tankandin the tube. When the dynamite ignited, those fumes would roar to life, ignite the liquid gas and…

As she taped, and taped, and taped, she smiled unpleasantly. She had one chance to kill Mara—

One. Chance.

—and she wanted that explosive to finish Mara in an ugly, final way.

Next, she crawled toward the tailgate, looping the fuse wire around the frame on the driver’s side, using tiny slices of tape to hold it in place. Two feet from the tailgate, she placed her final piece of tape.

She wanted to light the fuseright now…but where was Mara? Had Kellen somehow lost her?

“Don’t be stupid now,” she muttered at Mara, and crawled out from underneath the truck and looked out the grubby window again.

Mara had crested the rise and was headed for the garage.

46

Mara was limping.

Kellen wiped at the window for a clearer view. No need to be subtle. After all, she wanted Mara to know she was in here. She needed her to come in, sit in the truck, try to start it while the fuse burned down, ignited the dynamite, set the kerosene ablaze and the gas in the fuel line and the gas tank…and the blast would wipe Mara off the face of the earth.

She needed Mara to take the bait.

She squinted out the window; Mara’s jeans were stained below the left knee. That looked like blood. Must be blood.

Luna had done it. Dear, sweet, loving, protective Luna.

She would get revenge for Luna, Kellen told herself.

Lighter in hand, she slid back under the wheel well.

The safety release required one hand. To light the flame took another. And coordination—they had to be done at the same time. She had a wounded hand, and a balky hand, and a brain that screamed,Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Light the fuse. Light it. Light it!

She couldn’t. She couldn’t make both hands perform at the same time. She was holding her breath. If she didn’t take control, she would pass out.

No time.

No choice.

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