Page 74 of Bay of Plenty

Sarge thrust open the truck door. My nerves screamed violently. This man had framed me for murder. Only one of us was going to leave this clearing alive. But instead of exploding into action, I froze in fear, my feet bolted to the ground.

“How did you know I was here?” I yelled.

“I’ve been watching you,” he hollered. “You couldn’t leaveit alone.” He reached for his rifle. He fumbled over it. Trying to load his ammo?

His voice slapped me into a decision. I couldn’t let him out of the truck with that rifle.

This clearing was about the size of our kitchen and living area at home. We were at either end, so he was about forty feet from me.

Adrenaline surged into my limbs. I sprinted toward him and hurled myself against the truck door.

He howled in pain and smacked onto the dirt. He was still clutching his rifle.

How could I get his gun?His knee. The bad one. I lunged and stomped as hard as I could on his left knee. He roared and dropped the rifle. I grabbed it and leaped to a body length away. Punching the barrel into the air, I squeezed the trigger.

It fired like thunder, rattling my eardrums and shaking my arms. A flock of birds burst from the trees. No doubt now—he’d intended to shoot me.

“Next time, it won’t be in the air,” I yelled. “Now. Did you kill Janey?”

“Noooo.” His face contorted with pain.

“Who did?” Blood raced jagged through my veins.

“I can’t tell you.” He shook his head hard. “They don’t deserve to go to prison.”

“You’re protecting a killer and a child abuser,” I spat out.

“I’m not protecting the abuser—” He stopped himself. “But I let that creep go. That’s myonlyfault. It—it’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how? Give me a straight answer. Who is the creeper?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

This was going nowhere. I had to get around it another way. “Why are you trying to pin the murder on me?”

“You brought this on yourself.” He sneered, strings of drool and blood leaking from his mouth. “You came back here and stirred up things that had been settled for twenty years. It’s only fair you go down for it.”

What the hell? That’s so fucked up there’s no point arguing with him.“I’m trying to find the truth,” I warned. “You know I’m going to, so redeem yourself now. Who is the murderer?” Silence. I fired into the ground close to him.

He screamed, slapping at his body like he didn’t know where he’d been shot. He groaned and whined, but he wouldn’t talk. I had to get something incriminating on tape.

“Did you steal Janey’s diary from me and forge that fifth page?”

“Yes, it was me.”

“Did you cover up Janey’s visit to the police station? Did you promote Thatcher Bell to cover up for you?”

“Yes, I did it all.”

“What did Janey come in to tell you?”

“I’ll never say.” He stuck out his head defiantly. “You can shoot me, kill me if you want.”

“One final chance.” I aimed the rifle at his face. Could I shoot him? “Who killed Janey?”

Silence.Who the hell is he protecting? And why? What do they have over him?I was going to have to shoot him in the leg. I aimed. I started to squeeze the trigger. Oh God. I couldn’t do it.But I have to.

It was only a slight break in my concentration, but it gave him time to gather strength. Sheer desperation heaved his bulk to standing. He launched himself at me, the last tackleof his career. My back slammed onto the ground.Oof.But I was still gripping the rifle.

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