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woman’s.
    “Stop it,” Bittner muttered. Another backhand to the boy’s face, this one sounding like a mallet striking a deer carcass.
    But Casey went on. “Oh, Jack, oh, Jack. Please give me your big cock!”
    “Goddammit,” Bittner muttered. He walloped Casey in the face again, this time with a closed fist.
    I attempted to intercede, but Bittner anticipated me, aiming a vicious, blunt elbow that caught me flush in the cheek. The pain was exquisite. I sagged to the floor.
    I looked up in time to see Bittner fumbling for his gun. I doubt he would have been so clumsy under normal circumstances, but his rage was too great to allow sure-handedness. He’d just freed his firearm from his hip holster, with the apparent intention of shooting the child, when a voice behind us bellowed, “Don’t you dare!”
    I glanced up and beheld Danny Hartman holding a gun on his partner. Danny’s feet were planted wide, his arms extended. The barrel of the pistol was six feet from the back of Bittner’s head.
    Bittner didn’t turn, but he seemed to realize what was happening. He didn’t make a move on Danny, but he didn’t holster his weapon either. His back to Danny, he said, “You really want to do this, partner?”
    Danny’s face was slick with blood, and he looked distraught. But there was resolve there too. “I don’t want any of this. But I’m not gonna let you kill this boy.”
    Bittner turned, on his pitted face a look of ruthless irony. “This boy ? You mean this killer of children? This rapist? This monster who speaks filth about my daughter and her friends? Who for all we know has been casing them to pick out his next victim?”
    “Put the gun down, Jack.”
    “Why should I?”
    Danny licked his lips. “Because we don’t know he’s done anything wrong.”
    “He attacked his family. He beat up his little sister. He knows everything about the murders. How the hell can you say he hasn’t done anything wrong?”
    Bittner’s gun was rising.
    Danny’s voice was taut. “Last warning, Jack.”
    I don’t know what would’ve happened had Bittner raised his gun high enough to shoot Danny Hartman. Maybe Danny would’ve shot him first. Somehow I doubt it. Maybe Bittner would have slaughtered us all. At that moment he looked crazy enough to do it.
    Good thing Sutherland hit him first.
    All I saw was a flash of silver over Bittner’s head. Then he dropped soundlessly to the floor as though struck dead by divine judgment.
    Father Sutherland lowered the aluminum bat, looking like the holiest man to ever win the Triple Crown.
    “Thanks, Father,” Danny said. “I sure didn’t want to shoot him.”
    “That’s because you’re a good soul, Danny. Now let’s put Officer Bittner in some place safe.”
    “How about jail?” Ron suggested. He was on his feet, but he looked groggy. Liz, too, was rising.
    Danny brought up a trembling hand, massaged his forehead. “That won’t work.”
    Ron turned to his little brother with an expression of slow-dawning amazement. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me I’m supposed to keep him in the house ? After what he did? After he beat up my Casey? Threatened to kill him?”
    Danny’s voice was level. “You turn Jack in to the precinct—that is what you’re proposing right?—you do that and how long do you think it’ll be before he tells them everything that’s gone on here tonight? How long do you realistically expect them to wait before they take Casey in too?” Danny glanced at the thing on the bed, which watched them with a sardonic gleam in its eyes. “You really want my bosses to see your son in this state? You think they’re gonna know what to make of it? Or be sympathetic to a kid who talks about the killings the way he’s been doing, not to mention beating up on his own family?”
    Father Sutherland moved around and got his arms under Bittner’s back. With an effortless heave, he had Bittner hooked under the armpits. Nodding, he said, “Get his legs, Danny.