He turned left at the end of the hall and cautiously opened the first door that he came to. And the question of the whereabouts of the Ross’ staff was answered. The bodies of Stella and Ben were draped over the edge of a bathtub. Blood ran down Stella’s arm, forming a pool on the floor by the marble tub. His heart accelerated into a sprint. The body count was up to three. Apparently, Jillian was planning on leaving no witnesses.
He tried to plot a course of action in his head, but the drug in his system was making his thought process sluggish. It was frustratingly hard to think and he shook his head to clear it. As he concentrated, he suddenly remembered seeing a shot gun in the bed of Tom’s truck. Since he was only steps from the front door, he quietly slipped outdoors and made his way to the truck, trying to keep out of sight of any of the house windows. He had no way of knowing who might be watching.
Rounding the bed of the truck, he spotted a battered old shotgun with relief. He lifted it out, flipped it open and found that it was loaded.
Unfortunately, Tom hadn’t brought any replacement ammunition. Stephen would have to make do with two rounds, which was better than nothing. He grasped the cool metal tightly as he climbed the stone stairs of the front porch. It didn’t even occur to him to run and save himself. His only thought was of finding Sydney.
As he stepped quietly into the foyer, he caught the faint sound of voices coming from the back end of the house. He silently cursed the fact that he had never been in the house before. He was completely unfamiliar with it. Lifting the gun up onto his shoulder, he crept slowly into the direction of the muffled voices, his nerves standing up on end. He would just have to follow the noise.
As he continued stealthily through the library, the voices got infinitely sharper and more defined. Jillian’s hateful voice drifted through the room to him.
“Honestly, Sydney. You act as though you’ve never seen a dead person before! Well, I guess you haven’t. You can cross that off your bucket-list!”
Jillian laughed bitterly and Stephen felt relief flood through him in warm waves. Sydney was alive. That was all that mattered.
He crossed the remainder of the large room in four strides and chanced a glance into the kitchen. He found Jillian with her back facing him standing over the bloody, inert body of Harrison Daniels. He wasn’t sorry to see Harrison in the position that he was in, but his comfort was short-lived. Jillian was armed.
His gaze flew to Sydney’s face. She was slumped into her father’s side, as pale as he had ever seen her. But she was alive. He couldn’t see any visible injuries, making him want to sing and shout, but his relief died quickly.
“Okay. Who wants to go next?”
Jillian swung the gleaming black gun around, pointing it at each of them in turn. Sydney, Randall and Paul stared at her motionlessly, each face expressionless. The kitchen lights reflected off of a slight sheen of perspiration glazing Senator Hayes’ forehead, which was the only give-away of his distress. By all other appearances, they were utterly calm. No one in the group noticed Stephen’s head poking into the doorway. He felt his heart pound as he tried to decide what to do.
He had two rounds of ammunition and Jillian was only one person. But she was standing directly in front of the group. The spray from the shot gun could hit any of them.
“Oh, come on. I’ve had my practice round out of the way. It’ll be quick, I promise.” Jillian laughed again as she grabbed Sydney by the hair.
“Why don’t you go, Princess? Ladies first. And after you’re gone, dear daddy won’t have anything to live for anyway.”
“You’re a sick bitch, you know that?” Paul muttered.
“Oh, I’m the sick one? You’re the one who had an affair with a married man! For years. All while living a lie to the public…you had a perfect wife, perfect kids, perfect family. Perfect lies. Oh- and let’s not forget- you’re the one who molested poor Harrison his whole life.”
“Those are lies and you know it!” Paul protested, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
“Yes,” Jillian answered smoothly, “I do know. But the rest of America won’t.”
She paused to grin at him like a sick Cheshire cat.
“The best lies are those that are combined with truths. It makes them much more believable. Isn’t it crazy that your lies about your sexuality are going to make it seem plausible that you’re a monster? Because once the public learns that you tried to hide who you are… they’ll believe that anything is possible. Because you lied about everything else.”
She cackled crazily as she stared at Paul’s appalled face.
“Ignore her.” Randall instructed him calmly. “She’s beyond reason now.”
Randall focused on Jillian. “Jillian, at least let me hug Sydney one more time. Will you do that? It’s not too much to ask. ”
As he spoke, he leveled his gaze at Stephen and Stephen realized that the senator was entirely aware of his presence. His breathing quickened as he watched carefully for Randall’s next move.
“Oh, whatever. You’re a sentimental fool.”
Jillian shoved Sydney hard into Randall. He caught her easily and hugged her close, keeping his eyes on his wife.
“Get behind me,” he whispered.
“What?” Sydney pulled away from him in surprise, but he grabbed her and thrust her behind him before she had time to react. He guarded her with his body as he addressed his wife again.
“You’re the fool. And you’re going to have to shoot me first, Jillian. It won’t look like I shot my own daughter, I can guarantee you that.” His expression was grim as he continued to shield his daughter.
“Stop, Randall. I will shoot you. I don’t want to do it this way, but I will.” Jillian’s voice was venomous and didn’t falter. The gun she aimed at him did not shake in the slightest.
“Well, darling, what way do you plan on doing it? Did you plan on kneeling next to me and whispering endearments? I think not.”
“Hmm. You know, if you’re going to make things difficult…”
Her voice trailed off as she changed the aim of her gun. She swung it around until it was pointed at Paul Hayes’ heart.