Carter dragged Maggy violently up the stairs. She bounced against the walls as he forced her down the hallway.

“Which room is your daddy’s?” His hand was on her throat. “I want to give it to you on your daddy’s bed.”

He propelled her along the hall, opening up doors and moving on until he came to the master bedroom suite. 

“Here we go.” 

He threw Maggy into the room and she crashed against the bedboard. The bed slammed into the wall, its legs violently screeching against the wooden floor. In the next instant Carter was on top of her, his hand going to her throat. “I bet you’re still a virgin,” he whispered into her ear. “A tight little virgin.”

Maggy fought to control her panic. She was breathing too fast and becoming dizzy. Tears obscured her vision. She tried to break free of her panic and think. Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue digging down her throat as she fought the gagging. His hand pulled at her shirt until she felt the buttons give and the shirt ripped open. He kept the hand at her throat while his free hand explored the flesh underneath. It landed on her bra and went behind her back. It was then that she remembered the Derringer.

Hope.

But she’d need to appeal to his ego to sell it.

“Wait,” she breathed out. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Carter stopped his exploring. He pulled back, his eyes intent on hers. She had since gotten her shaking and hysterics under control. She peered at him seductively.

“You were right,” she whispered. “I am a virgin.”

A greasy smile crossed Carter’s lips. He licked them.

“I don’t want to be one anymore.”

“And you expect me to believe that you want me to do something about it?”

“Yes. Don’t you think it would be easier on you if I was willing? From what I understand it can be painful.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Willing?”

“Oh, yes. Ever since I saw you. When Stevens first introduced us.”

“You didn’t seem like it then.”

“That’s because Mike was there. I didn’t want any trouble. He’s very possessive. I had to make it look good–until we could be alone...until I could explain things to you.”

“I see,” Carter said skeptically.

“You’ll be leaving after that man gets his book, or whatever it is. I still have to live in this town. And towns like this don’t look very kindly on used goods. Unless the girl is a victim and what happened was beyond her control.”

At that Carter regarded her more closely. “You’re so goddamned pretty." He went again at her clothing.

“Wait,” whispered Maggy. “Let me do it.”

Carter’s lips pressed into a sleazy smile. He pulled himself free of her and watched as she stood from the bed and went to the window. The light outside framed her body, softening her silhouette. It accentuated the highlights of her hair causing it to glow like an angel’s halo. He was becoming erect with anticipation.

Maggy’s hands went to her shirt. She began to unbutton it, slowly, sensually. She was beginning to feel sick to her stomach and tried to put the situation out of her mind. 

Carter stood and took her hands away from the buttons. Then he undid them himself, his arms going around her. She felt him fumble with the hooks of her bra. She pushed back her tears and attempted to look aroused. Her stomach tightened and she felt the bile rise. She closed her eyes tightly and pretended it was Mike whose hands were undoing her bra. It was his hands that went to her breasts once the bra was pushed aside. He was the one who bent to her and put his lips to her nipples. It was Mike’s tongue that caressed them. When his hands went for the buttons of her jeans she took them.

Carter looked up into her face.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Now you.” She regarded the bed behind him.

Carter backed up, pulling her with him. He sat down in front of her and removed his shirt. His muscles flexing, a thin layer of perspiration gave away his arousal. Then he unfastened his trousers but left them around his waist. He took Maggy’s hand and kissed the palm. Then he pushed her hand into his pants. 

“Feel that,” he whispered. He rubbed Maggy’s hand up along his groin. His erection was mounting. “It’s for you. Imagine the things I could do to you, baby,” he whispered sensually. “The heights of sinful pleasure that dolt downstairs couldn’t even know the extent of- I’ve been places. I know what women want–need.”

Carter leaned back against the bed and closed his eyes. His lips curled with the pleasure of the girl’s hands on him. He thought about how to get her lips there as well; how he’d rip off this angel’s halo and ravage her body ... break her in two, and make her beg for more.

He sat up, rolling her over in the process and pinning her to the bed. His hand going to her throat, this time gently. He kissed her fully, his tongue traced her teeth. It slipped from her lips to travel down her neck, to her collarbone, then between her breasts. He moved to her right breast and suckled. Moving his tongue around the nipple. His hands darted down to her jeans. Before Maggy could protest he had sat up and started dragging her jeans from her. She felt the Derringer unclip, cold and hard against her back.

“Wait,” she begged, trying to reach for the gun.

“No more waiting. I know you want it,” he insisted, throwing the jeans to the ground. He then went for her panties, gripping them from the front and ripping them off. 

Maggy’s panic returned as she tried to grapple for the gun behind her without him discovering her move. Luckily he was far too busy to notice. His trousers were now around his knees.

He fell upon her again, pinning her, forcing the breath from her lungs. Maggy felt dizzy but managed to retain a hold on the Derringer. She needed an angle, to bring it up without his suspecting. Carter’s hand went between her legs and began to stroke her. His fingers dove inside her. 

“Please,” she whispered. “This hurts–let me–”

Carter quieted her with another kiss and moved himself on top. She could feel him move her legs apart, his hips thrusting himself towards her.

“I want on top,” Maggy said quietly. “Let me direct you inside... please.”

Carter was upon the verge of orgasm. He could hardly contain himself.

“You stated my pleasure was your responsibility,” Maggy said quietly. “I want to be on top. I can’t breathe.”

Carter consented and rolled off, pulling her down on him at the same time. Maggy quickly leaned into him and kissed him for fear that he may detect her reluctance. The taste of his mouth was revolting. Maggy fought to stifle the gagging and again imagine it was Mike she was kissing. The gun was small enough that it could easily be concealed in the palm of her hand. Carter was too preoccupied with her kiss to notice her gently slide the gun along the bed and hide her hand and the gun both under one of Chief’s feather pillows. She felt Carter rubbing his penis against her, spreading her legs with each mechanical thrust. His hands orchestrating the move from below. His fingers groping. 

Maggy knew she couldn’t risk the sound of the Derringer firing so she swaddled it into the pillow and placed both at the man’s temple. Carter was set to make his way inside her.

Maggy pulled away sharply, causing Carter to miss his mark. 

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Carter stared at her, visibly angry. “What’s going on?”

“You are the most vile person I ever met. Just the thought of you touching me makes me want to vomit. And I’m sorry for this–” Maggy pulled the trigger. 

Blood and brains spurted out the other side of the man’s skull. His confused and semi angry expression turned blank, his eyes glassed over with the loss of consciousness. The gray spongy matter that shared the pillow with the blood started Maggy heaving. She felt her hysterics return and pulled free of the bed. She crossed the room and sat in the corner, closing her eyes against what she had done. Her shaking and trembling took control and soon she was all out crying. Then she forced herself to look at the body to know what she had to do. She gained control of herself once again. Now was not the time to fall apart, save that for later, when true hysterics will be more convincing than an act. Maggy pulled herself from the floor and quickly dressed in her jeans, and shirt. She buttoned it up as far as she could, before ripping the cloth to make the attack look more brutal.

“Think, Maggy,” she told herself. “What next.”

She stared at the corpse. Then she got on the bed and stood. She jumped up and down with rhythm, keeping an eye on Chief’s alarm clock, for just over six minutes. “That’s probably all you were good for anyway.”

Maggy went to her father’s bureau. In the top drawer at the back she found his recently sharpened hunting knife. She unsheathed it and shoved it up her sleeve, securing it with the buttons at the wrist. She buttoned up the other side to make it look natural. Then she went to the body. She removed Carter’s revolver, before going into Chief’s bath. She removed the sash from Chief's robe that was haning on a peg behind the door and tied it into a noose, using a slipknot. Then she returned to the room and hid herself behind the door.

It wasn’t much longer before the next man came up. The door was pushed cautiously open, more to catch the room’s occupants at their activity, than out of respect. It was the squat man that entered. He came completely into the room to examine the body. Maggy shut the door quietly behind him and leveled the gun at the large target in front of her.

Riekker turned at the door’s closing. When he did so he found himself staring down the barrel of Carter’s Colt .45. Instant fear replaced his expectant ecstasy. 

“Take off your clothes.” Maggy’s voice was savage and contained a brutal rasp.

“Look miss, this wasn’t my idea. I didn’t wan–”

“Shut up. Take off your clothes. I can’t believe they’d be worth more to you than your life.”

Riekker removed his shirt and his trousers. He stood before the girl in his sleeveless union suit.

“That too,” Maggy said. “And be quick about it.”

“You can’t be serious?”

Maggy glared at him. She pulled back the gun’s hammer and held the gun in shaking hands.

“All right, all right. Calm down.”

Maggy watched as the man removed his remaining clothing and held it protectively in front of him.

“Now what?”

“Over there,” Maggy said, motioning to the bed.

Riekker looked at the half naked body and shuddered. “Isn’t there somewhere else-”

“Now!” The force of the word did not come from volume.

Riekker moved to the bed.

“On the ground,” Maggy told him. “Just so you know, if you move, I’ll shoot it off. I am that good of a shot- even with such a small target.”

He sat down next to the bed. 

“Hands around the leg of the bed behind you.”

When Riekker complied, she slipped them into the noose and pulled it tight. She then proceeded to tie him securely to the bed. She paid no attention to his claims that the bindings were too tight. Downstairs, Mike was tied the same way and no consideration was given to his injury. Then Maggy went to the bureau and removed two of Chief’s ties. One she used to secure the man’s feet. Then she stuffed the man’s under clothes into his mouth and used the other to tie it securely as a gag.

Once finished, Maggy tossed the Riekker's clothing into Chief’s bathroom and locked the door before shutting it. She assumed he would be less likely to make a move without them. 

Then she stared at the corpse a while, letting her guilt over his death permeate her very essence. She let the horror of her experience with him surface. By degrees she let her hysteria return. She secured Carter’s revolver into the front of her jeans under her shirt, before dashing out the door.

Maggy bolted down the stairs. In her hysteria she didn’t even register the man was no longer at the front door. She had one goal. Reach Mike. She ran past everyone in the back room, avoided all their eyes until she was at Mike’s side. She wrapped her arms around his waist, concealing them under the tails of his tux as well as the sofa.

“Shhh,” Mike whispered to her. “It’s okay.”

Maggy released the knife from her sleeve. Still under the protection of Mike’s tails and shielded by Mike’s body and the couch, she deftly cut the ropes.

Maggy pressed her body into Mike so he could feel the hard metal of the gun she harbored and waited for his cues for when the time would be right to transfer the gun.

“What the hell’s going on up there anyway,” Perretti said when Maggy was not followed down the stairs. He looked at the girl again. Her face was buried into the shoulder of the young man, probably her boyfriend, and she was shaking violently and sobbing uncontrollably. She had the right appearance of a rape victim.

Mike glared at him. “Maybe they’re fucking each other.”

Elly turned to Mike, her eyes remainin on him as Perretti ordered Linche to check the upstairs.

In that moment, MIke tried to communicate to Elly silently. He intensified his expression, narrowing his right eye, before glancing at Perretti and his men.

But she didn’t indicate she understood.

“For crying out loud, Elly!” Mike said attempting a new approach. “Tell them! Tell them whatever they want to know! You can’t expect her to go through any more of that! Jesus Christ!”

At that Linche stopped and turned to Perretti. But now Perretti’s attention belonged to Mike. 

Perretti slowly turned to Elly. “What will it be, Christine?”

She glanced briefly at Mike before saying, “All right. But they go free. Is that a deal?”

“Yes. I stated that before.”

“I’ll tell you then. I’ll tell you where it is.”

Mike paused briefly to make sure Elly had gained the attention of both Linche and Perretti. He listened briefly as she continued with an elaborate tale about how Doug had stolen the ledger and about how it had fallen into her hands, the truth intricately cloaked in falsehood. It was a good story and they seemed to be buying it. Then Mike returned his attention to Maggy, whose eyes locked onto his as she used the cues from him, counted on him being able to spot if any of the others turned in their direction. Then she carefully pulled the Colt from the front of her jeans and slid it under the couch to Mike. Mike took it in his right hand, placed his finger on the trigger and released the safety with his thumb. Then both Mike and Maggy waited as Elly completed her tale.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it, Christine? Go on and bring down the others, Linche.” Perretti hastily turned to Elly. “I’m sorry my dear, but this is where I must turn you over to Cardoza.” He smiled. “And I’m afraid witnesses are loose ends I can ill afford. I will have to handle the other two.”

“You gave me your word!”

Perretti drew his gun the same instant Maggy rolled off Mike. Mike had his gun leveled and the trigger pulled while Perretti was still trying to figure out Maggy’s actions. His blood exploded from his chest as the .45 caliber round forced its way through his breastplate, his heart tissue and finally lodging itself into his backbone. 

This occurred the instant Cardoza drew his weapon. He had been preoccupied with devising Elly’s torture. Deciding if it would be a better punishment to cut her face up and leave her alive. He was not prepared for Perretti’s demise. He was not prepared for his own. His gun hardly breached his holster before his brains were given an enema by Mike’s second round.

Linche heard the shots from the foyer. He assumed it was Perretti’s gun that had fired killing the girl and the young man in the tux. He continued up the stairs without a backwards glance. He was at the first landing when the front door burst open and a second man dressed in tails confronted him; a Colt .45 planted securely in his grip. Linche attempted to draw against the new arrival–his gun was out when the door crashed open his mind registering the probability of getting off a clear shot. But the other gun was much faster. Inhumanly fast, thought Linche as he took a shot to his head, the bullet entering right between his eyes, its force driving him backward against the landing wall. There he slid to the ground, his legs splayed out in front of him, his back against the wall and a trail of blood smearing the wall behind him.

Chief and Moss had agreed to surround the house and assess the situation. But before Moss could possibly have had enough time to circle, Chief heard the shots. He didn’t wait before bursting in. Now as his boots echoed down the hall he prayed he was not too late. His revolver was out and directed in front of him. Ready to confront any assailants. He arrived at the den the same time Moss entered the back door. Chief noticed Mike and Maggy on the floor. Maggy was sobbing, her clothing ripped. She had buried herself in Mike’s arm. Elly was in the leather chair facing the fireplace. Her pallor was ghostly.

Mike held Maggy gently, one eye to the door to meet whomever traveled down the hall, his gun aimed and ready. When he realized it was Chief, he threw the gun aside and concentrated on Maggy. He held her more tightly in both arms, gently stroking her hair and whispering in her ear.

Elly looked up when Chief entered the room. She began to cry, herself; the tension releasing from her body in spasms. She was finally able to let down her guard and the tears flowed unhindered. When Chief approached her, she collapsed into his arms. The warmth of his embrace helped her to combat her violent shaking.

Moss surveyed the room for further potential hazards. When he saw none, he went to his nephew. 

“How is he?” Chief said over Elly’s shoulder.

Moss completed his examination. “I think he’s going to be all right, Bob. He’s lost a lot of blood, though. We need to get him to the hospital.” He glanced at the women. “Them too.”

Chief turned to Mike. “What the hell happened? Where are the rest of the Federal agents?”

“They were called off, boss. Perkins’s orders.”

“What?” Moss asked. “I don’t believe it.”

Mike looked at him. “Neither did Stevens. I think Perkins is dirty, Mort. Maybe the men were called off to keep the ledger from being read.”

“That would explain a lot of things,” Moss mused. Moss looked intently at Mike. “No one volunteered to stay?”

“There was just Carter and Haverty- Carter worked for Perretti, he was his inside man- and I suspect Haverty is dead upstairs.”

Maggy raised her head from Mike’s chest. She turned to Moss, tears drying on her cheeks.

“It’s true. I saw him... in Kelly’s room. He’s dead.”

“Jesus,” Moss whispered. “He was a good man. Where’s Carter?”

“I assume upstairs also,” Mike answered. He looked down at Maggy still buried in his arms.

Chief looked at the bodies. Then he turned to Mike. “Just what the hell went on in here, Mike?”

Mike looked up from Maggy. “Quite honestly, boss, I don’t know.”

Chief looked at his daughter in the deputy’s arms. Her tattered clothing and the bruises about her arms and neck indicated she had been in a struggle, the nature of which Chief had a good idea. “Maggy,” he said softly.

Maggy turned to her father. She regained control of her trembling but the crying was too much to control. “I killed him, Chief. He’s upstairs ... on your bed. There’s another man tied up next to him ... they were...” She swallowed tightly, half choking on the tears that drained down her throat. “They tried to ... ” She broke off shaking her head. The trembling returned. Chief watched as she again turned to Mike, her eyes beseeching. 

Mike nodded and turned to Chief. “Perretti sicked Carter on her, boss. He took her upstairs to rape her. Then he sent the other man up there for the same thing.” Mike looked down at Maggy. “I don’t know what happened up there.”

“I pretended to go along with him,” Maggy said to his shoulder. “I played him along until I could get the Derringer free.” She turned to her father. “I didn’t even want to wear it. God it was awful…then, when I had the chance, I pulled the gun out and shot him in the head using one of your pillows to hide the shot. I knew Perretti had no other threat aside from killing us, but if he did that Miss Elly wouldn’t tell him a thing. He sent the fat pig up next. I pulled Carter’s gun on him and made him strip- I figured he’d have less guts fully naked. I tied him up with the sash and a couple of your ties. Then I came back down. I didn’t even have to act crazy- it just came naturally, Chief. I never killed anything before. I couldn’t even imagine how awful it is.” 

“Jesus,” Chief whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I really screwed up.”

“Tell you what, Bob,” Moss said from the floor. “You get them to the hospital and I’ll take care of things around here.”

Chief nodded. He held Elly her gently by the shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes before saying, “You going to be all right?”

She nodded her answer. Chief left her to help Mort with Stevens. 

Stevens had been shot just below his left ribcage. Blood stained his suit coat in a large burgundy patch. Perspiration glistened on his forehead. He rolled in and out of consciousness, breathing erratically.

Then Stevens’s eyes sailed open. They were glazed and unfocused. “Perkins...” Fresh blood broke free from his lips. A crimson stain trapped the edges of the deep burgundy that preceded it on his clothing as fresh blood pulled free of his wound.

“Shhh-” his uncle soothed, “we’ll take care of it.”

“He’s ... he’s dirty, Uncle Mort. The ledger ... can’t wait ... he’ll hear of this ...” Stevens’s words trailed off. He swallowed down his blood and again focused on Moss. “Must get ... ledger ... now… he’s in it. I know he is ...” Stevens closed his eyes.

 Moss searched out his pulse, when he found one he breathed in his relief, then looked at Chief. “Let’s go.”

© Copyright 2025 C J Driftwood. All rights reserved.