Execution of Innocence by Christopher Pike Page A

swore.
    Alone, Riles paid the girls one last visit. They sat together in the interrogation room, on the same side of the table, not speaking. Perhaps they feared their words were being overheard. Riles wouldn't have minded eavesdropping on such a conversation, if it wasn’t against the law. He sat down across from them, not bothering to turn on the tape recorder.
    “I know you two were involved in the murder of Dick,” he said flatly. “I’m now fairly certain you had something to do with Charlie’s disappearance, too.”
    Hannah was sweet as ever. “That's bull.”
    He caught her eye. “We know more than you think we know. Charlie also bled a lot tonight, out on the road to Whistler. It’s only a matter of time before we find his body.”
    Mary paled and put a hand to her mouth. Hannah smiled.
    “Charlie is a mystery,” Hannah said. “A mystery that will never be solved.”
    Riles did not smile. “You are a piece of work, girl. Whatever happened last night, it was planned ahead of time. But even so, you can be taken apart piece by piece. In the police business I'm what’s called an owl. I never go home to sleep. I seldom stop to eat. I never stop working. I promise you, dear Hannah, I won’t stop until I nail your ass to the wall.”
    Hannah stood. “I assume that means you can't hold us any longer.”
    Riles threw Mary's keys on the table. “Get out of here, both of you.”
     
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
    On the night of the murder, the night that was supposed to be reserved for fun and games, Mary stood outside, waiting in the cold snow for her boyfriend to reach her. His truck moved slowly toward her over the slippery road. Maybe he was being careful. Maybe he was trying to think what he would say to her. With all their planning, Mary had not stopped to consider what she would say to him.
    Charlie pulled up beside her car, parked, and got out. He left his high beams on. Even in the harsh light and the ghastly shadows, he looked great. Just like that, even before he spoke, Mary felt her resolve crumble. She couldn't play this cruel joke on him. He didn't deserve it—he hadn't started it—and of course she still loved him. He stared at her as she processed all these thoughts and emotions. He had on the sweater she had given him for Christmas when he should have had on a heavy coat.
    “I'm sorry,” he said.
    “I'm sorry, too,” she said.
    Then they were hugging and kissing.
    Then all hell broke loose.
    They heard a gunshot in the woods. Hannah came running out of the trees, her face a mask of horror in the truck headlights. She didn’t stop running until she collided with them.
    “It's Dick!” she gasped. “He's drunk! He's going to kill you, Charlie!”
    Charlie stared at her as if she were the drunk one. “What is your brother doing out here?” he asked.
    Hannah grabbed Mary’s hands. “I ran into him down the road. He’s stoned out of his mind and carrying real bullets. We have to get out of here!”
    “And what are you doing here?” Charlie asked Hannah.
    “Where did he get the real bullets?” Mary demanded.
    “I don’t think he ever had blanks,” Hannah said, glancing back the way she had come. A car, also shining its high beams, was approaching rapidly. She grabbed both Mary and Charlie and dragged them toward Mary's car. “We have to get out of here!” she shouted.
    “What's going on?” Charlie protested as he got in Mary’s car.
    “We’ll explain later,” Mary said, slipping in behind the wheel. Starting the car, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Dick was hanging out the driver's side, the revolver in his hand. He fired off another shot and she turned in time to see the bark on the tree in front of them splinter. Mary felt a rush of terror. There was no question he was packing live rounds. She threw the car in gear and they shot forward.
    “Why is he shooting at us?” Charlie demanded.
    “Because he hates you,” Hannah said from the backseat, keeping her head