Before Anne could react Dennis had pulled his hands out of his pockets and came at her swinging and screaming. She wasn’t aware of what he had clenched in his fists until she felt something sharp and pointed stick her in the breast. By the time it registered he had struck her twice more.

There was nothing she could grab to hit him with. She didn’t want to run backward into the house. If Dennis saw Wendy or Haley she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt either one of them.

She tried to grab at his arms as he swung at her, and his weapons cut her hands and forearms. She shouted at him, “Dennis! Stop it! Stop it!”

Wendy had heard the commotion and came running from the kitchen. As soon as she saw Dennis, she started screaming at the top of her lungs. And right on her heels came Haley.

“Wendy, run!” Anne shouted as Dennis struck her again. “Take Haley and run!”

Haley stood at the end of the hall, shrieking.

Oh my God, Anne thought as she tried to fend off her attacker, she’s seeing it happen all over again.

Dennis was in a frenzy. He was big for his age, and strong, and with strength of purpose he kept coming at her, shouting and swinging and pushing her backward into the house. They were now out of sight of the deputy parked at the curb.

“I fucking hate you!” Dennis yelled, bulldozing into her.

Anne’s feet tangled with his and then she was falling backward. The back of her head struck the floor so hard it bounced. Blackness rushed in from the outer edges of her vision.

Dennis Farman came down on top of her, one arm raised high, ready to plunge a blade into her chest.

Chapter 81

81

“I did not kill Marissa,” Darren Bordain said.

Mendez got out of his chair. “Why don’t you have a seat for a little longer? I’ve got to step out and get a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”

Bordain looked at him like he had lost his mind completely. “Do I want a cup of coffee? No, I don’t want a fucking cup of coffee! No, I don’t want to sit down!”

Big sweat stains ringed the underarms of his blue oxford shirt with the neat little logo embroidered on the pocket: MEF.

“I’ll be right back,” Mendez said, unfazed.

He let himself out of the interview room and went across the hall to the break room where Dixon, Hicks, and Vince were watching the monitor.

Vince smacked him on the back. “Good job, Junior.”

“You’ve got him back on his heels,” Dixon said. “I can’t believe he hasn’t asked for a lawyer.”

“I think he wants to tell you something,” Vince said. “But he can’t quite do it.”