Fire Lake (33 page)

Leanne screamed again-at the top of her lungs.
"Bastards!"

Both of the cops started running.

"I'm going to kill you!" Leanne said to her
father. She reached for the gun rack and pulled a shotgun off the
wall.

"Leanne!" her mother screamed.

Silverstein, Karen, and Levy wrestled with Leanne,
trying to get the gun away from her. Gearheart just stood there,
staring at his daughter with horror. The cops were through the door
by then.

When Jordan saw the shotgun in Leanne's hand, he
pulled out his service pistol.

"Don't!" I shouted at him, and made a grab
for the gun. Jordan whipped the pistol across my face, knocking me to
the floor. Al made a grab for the gun, too, but Jordan shoved him
away.

Everyone in the living room looked toward the door.
Silverstein saw the pistol, let go of his wife, and retreated toward
the wall. Without him holding her, Leanne easily broke loose from
Karen and Levy. She took two steps across the room, holding the
shotgun in her hands--a wild, unknowing look on her face.

Jordan shot her--twice--sending her flying against
the far wall beside her husband. She hit the wall hard and sank to
the floor. The shotgun fell out of her hands and landed on the rug at
her feet. For a moment nobody said anything. And then it was chaos.
Everyone crying and shouting at once.

I sat there on the floor, staring at Leanne
Silverstein's bloody body, and didn't feel like getting up again.
 

46

After Leanne's death, Silverstein confessed to
everything. He couldn't stop confessing, the poor son of a bitch. The
cops found the crack where he said it would be--upstairs in the
bedroom closet of the farmhouse. Jordan promptly busted LeRoi and his
boys; and Cal and Renee were tracked down in a Florida motel. I
testified against all of them at the trial. A shooting board was
convened on the Leanne Silverstein killing. I testified at the board
too. In spite of all I could do, they ruled the shooting a
justifiable homicide and Jordan walked.

But the trial and the shooting board were months
later. That night, after the coroner had come and gone, Levy drove us
back to Cross Lane. We picked up the Pinto and I took Karen to the
airport.

I wanted to wait with her before she left. But she
told me to go back home and get some rest. She wanted to be alone for
a while.

I said to her, "You're going to call me, right?
I mean, this isn't good-bye."

She stared at me for a long moment. "I'll call,"
she promised.

But she never did call. They never found Lonnie's
body, either.