by Webb, Debra
She yelped.
A muzzle pressed into her temple.
Steven spun around, the barrel of the shotgun leveled in front of him. “What took you so long?”
A new kind of fear lit inside Abbey. Was her brother working with a partner?
“Put it down!” the man holding her commanded.
Time seemed to stop for a moment as her brain digested and recognized the raised voice.
Lionel Hansen.
This couldn’t be right. He had always been like family.
No, she realized, Steven was family. Hansen was just the man next door who had a gun aimed at her head.
As if he’d sensed a new tension in her body, Hansen jerked her closer against him. “Put it down or she’s dead.”
Steven tossed the shotgun to the snow-covered ground.
“You’re not taking anyone else from me,” her brother warned.
Hansen laughed, the sound evil and twisted. “You won’t miss her because you’ll be dead too.”
Abbey rode out the wave of new shock. She inhaled sharply. She had to do something.
“Garrett is on his way,” she lied. “He’ll be here any minute.”
Another vicious laugh. “And when he arrives, he’ll find that your crazy brother has killed you and then himself.”
Terror twisted inside Abbey even as a sobering realization overtook her. “He’s telling the truth, isn’t he?”
“You of all people should know the truth can be whatever you want it to be,” Hansen countered. “Sometimes the story changes and you have to revise.”
Anger erupted inside her. “You killed our parents!”
“No.”
The old man uttered the single syllable with a mixture of agony and anger.
Maybe if she distracted him, he would loosen his grip on her or lower his weapon. It was worth a shot. “I don’t believe you.”
“I loved her.”
More of that anguish weighted his angry words.
“But you killed her anyway,” Abbey said, improvising.
Steven was staring at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking but she hoped he understood her goal.
“I would never have hurt her. Never.” Hansen shook his head adamantly. Abbey felt the movement. “I would have done anything for Ellen. She was the love of my life. My heart.”
Another unexpected quake rocked through Abbey. She wished she could see Steven’s expression more clearly. Had he known this too?
“But she didn’t love you,” her brother said. “She loved our father. She would never have looked at anyone else.”
“He was nothing but an obstacle,” Hansen sneered. “I would have found a way and the opportunity one day to clear my path. I could wait. I would have waited the rest of my life, content to see her from time to time. Hear her voice. Relish her occasional touch when her hand accidentally brushed mine.”
His words turned her stomach. “But you decided you couldn’t, and you killed her instead,” Abbey suggested, following Steven’s lead. “If you couldn’t have her, no one could.”
His hand clamped harder around her throat, making her gag.
“She killed her.”
Abbey froze, the pressure on her throat no longer important.
“Your wife killed my mother?” The words were hers, but she didn’t recognize them. Whether from the shock or from the grip on her throat.
“She was jealous. She knew how I felt. I tried to hide it, but it was impossible.”
Steven stepped forward.
The muzzle of the weapon Hansen held bored deeper into Abbey’s skull.
“You knew it was her and you let me go to jail for it?”
“I was devastated. I couldn’t think straight for months,” Hansen argued. “Dottie was all I had left. I couldn’t lose her too. Anything was better than being alone.”
Steven called him every vile name in his vocabulary. The more he shouted, the faster the man holding Abbey breathed as if the ugly words were pushing the oxygen from his lungs faster than he could fill them. The rasp of his respiration brushed against her hair. He was shaken to the core.
Good.
“That was a long time ago,” Abbey said, cutting off her brother’s rampage and redirecting the conversation. “Why kill her now? She was still all you had. Aren’t you going to be lonely without her?”
“It was the dementia. The confusion started a little over a year ago. She couldn’t remember things that happened five minutes before. It was as if the past was her five minutes ago. She kept getting confused. She said something to your father that had him demanding answers from me about Ellen. I knew he’d just keep digging until he figured out how much I had loved her and what happened when she died. I had no choice but to kill him.”
Abbey’s knees almost buckled. She steadied herself, struggled to keep the discussion going. “Garrett said he fell off a ladder. He would never lie to me.” This man had to be lying.
“I made it look that way. The deputy who showed up was completely convinced. Problem solved. He’s dead now too so that’s that.”
White hot rage blasted against her chest. Before she could scream at him all the hateful names that came to her mind, he went on, “Dottie just kept getting worse. The more the disease dragged her into the past, the bigger liability she became to me. When I found out you were coming back to pack up the house, I decided to do what had to be done. It was perfect timing. I knew Garrett would find some way to blame Steven for yours and Dottie’s murders. So, I took that bat from his room. I was going to beat her to death with it when I got home and say I found her that way except she beat me to the punch. But like everything else she did in her life, she was never quite thorough enough.”
Revulsion roiled through her. Abbey warned, “Garrett won’t be fooled by any of this.”
“That’s right,” Steven piped up, taking another step toward them, “he’s not like that good old boy sheriff we had when our mother was killed. He won’t stop until he finds the truth.”
“Stop right there,” Hansen ordered. He shrugged his left shoulder, then passed the gun to his left hand and shrugged his right shoulder. Something fell to the ground. “There’s a rope in that pack. Fix yourself a hanging noose, Steven. Today’s the day you’re going to end your suffering. I’ll let you go first so you don’t have to watch your sister die. Whatever you think, I’m not completely heartless.”
“I won’t let you hurt her,” Steven argued, moving yet another step toward them.
“You can’t stop me,” Hansen warned. “I’ve planned everything out. In this weather it’ll be hard to tell who went first. Course I’ll make sure the weapon has your prints on it and your hand has powder burns. I’ve watched enough CSI reruns to know what I have to do. As good as Garrett Gilmore is, he won’t figure it out. He’ll be too devastated that he couldn’t stop this tragedy.”
It was now or never. Abbey relaxed her body to give him a false sense of control. “Go ahead, Steven,” she urged. “There’s no point fighting the inevitable. You go first. I’ll be right behind you.”
He stared at her.
Did he not understand? “Do it,” she shouted. “Now!”
As if he’d only then realized what she meant, he darted past her and Hansen. Disappeared in the darkness.
“Stop you son of—” Hansen instinctively shifted his aim toward her fleeing brother.
Abbey jerked out of his hold, whipped around and pushed him as hard as she could, sending him face forward into the snow.
She took off in the direction her brother had disappeared. She zigzagged around and between the trees, praying she wouldn’t run headlong into one.
Hansen’s shouted warnings echoed through the trees.
She kept going.
A gunshot rang out in the darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
Backup had arrived.
Garrett sent Nelson and Tracey to look around the Hansen place in hopes of finding the old man and to start securing
the scene. Two deputies had transferred Johnson’s body to a body bag and then into the back of a department SUV for Deputy Cunningham to transport to the morgue. Since Johnson was a widower and didn’t have any children or known next of kin, there was no one to notify. His family was the department and they would take care of his final arrangements when this storm was done so they could do it right.
Garrett and the other three deputies had spread out to begin a grid search of the woods surrounding Abbey’s home. The longer she was out in this weather the less likely she could survive. He didn’t want to find any more bodies.
He couldn’t bear the idea of her…
Shake it off. Don’t go down that road.
Garrett was a dozen yards into the tree line when he heard the gunshot.
The beam of his flashlight guiding him, he ran toward the blast. The others fanned out and did the same. Garrett’s movements were stilted and unstable, but whatever his injury it could wait. He had to find Abbey.
Before it was too late.
He ran harder. His right shoulder banked off a tree. He grimaced but kept going. With the overhead canopy of evergreens, the snow wasn’t as deep this far into the woods. Made moving forward considerably less difficult. Didn’t slow the throbbing in his head. He kept going. Unless his body quit on him, he wouldn’t stop.
He spotted movement to his left. Whoever it was, he didn’t have a flashlight. Wouldn’t be one of his deputies. They all had flashlights and wore the department jackets with reflective lettering.
Garrett pushed forward, ignoring the pain that continued to rip through his skull.
When he was within a few yards of the fleeing figure, whoever the hell it was suddenly stopped and started yelling and waving his arms frantically.
“He took her! He’s going to kill her!”
Male. Strained, hoarse voice.
Garrett caught up to him and grabbed him by the coat. Lionel Hansen. “Who took her?” he demanded.
Hansen gasped for breath. “Steven…that murdering brother of hers. He’s taking her to the river, going to kill her.” He shook his head and started to wail hysterically, his words not making sense.
“Are you injured?” Garrett demanded.
Hansen trembled uncontrollably whether from fear or merely the cold Garrett couldn’t be sure. “Are you injured?” he repeated, needing him to pay attention. There was no time…
Hansen’s head wagged side to side. “No. No. You have to go save her. He’s got a gun!”
Deputy Carla Vincent joined the huddle. “I’ve got him, Sheriff.”
“Take him to the house. Get him warmed up and take his statement.”
“Yes, sir.”
Garrett headed for the river that cut across the properties on this side of Mill Creek Road. His heart pounded faster and faster. If Steven was armed and had made his intentions known, Garrett might have no other choice but to take him down.
Bottom line, for now she was alive and he had to make sure she stayed that way.
Movement in the distance on his right snagged his attention.
A flash of light against darkness.
Not a flashlight. Not reflective lettering.
White coat.
Abbey.
He restrained the urge to call out to her. If she’d evaded Steven, he didn’t want to give away her position.
Garrett pushed his body harder, lunged through the trees in that direction. If he could catch up with Abbey before Steven got her back in his crosshairs, he might be able to avoid a violent confrontation.
Snow crunched.
To his left.
Another figure rushing in the same direction as Abbey whizzed past his line of sight.
Had to be Steven.
Garrett altered his course to intersect with his new target.
The one nearest him glanced back.
Tall. Had to be Steven.
Garrett charged forward.
A scream split the air.
Abbey.
“Stay right there, Garrett!”
He stopped, almost went face down in the snow with the effort. Garrett kept his weapon lowered. He didn’t want to make the man feel more threatened than he already did…yet. “Let her go, Steven, and we’ll figure this out.”
Garrett strained to see the weapon…not visible.
He laughed. “If I let her go, you’ll end up shooting me and then they’ll win. Again.”
“Listen to him, Garrett,” Abbey urged. “You’re not thinking clearly or you wouldn’t be doing this.”
Garrett couldn’t see her eyes or her face well enough to read her emotional state, but he trusted her. “I won’t shoot you, Steven,” he assured him. “You have my word.”
The whisper of snow packing sounded behind him. Garrett didn’t have to look back to know it was his two deputies. A new wave of tension rippled through him. Their arrival would make the man more nervous.
“Tell them to stay back,” Steven cautioned, his voice calmer than Garrett had expected.
“Garrett, please,” Abbey urged, “you have to listen to him. He’s telling the truth.”
“Hold your position,” Garrett ordered his deputies. He shifted his attention to the man holding so tight to Abbey. “You don’t need Abbey to protect you. I won’t allow this situation to go wrong.”
“The last sheriff I trusted caused me to spend nearly half my life in prison.”
Abbey pulled free of her brother’s hold.
Garrett braced to launch himself between her and the other man.
“Wait! Garrett, wait.” Abbey held up her hands. Rather than run, she stood in front of Steven as if attempting to shield him.
“I’ll hear him out,” Garrett promised her. “Just let me do this the right way.” Damn it! She needed to move aside.
“It’s not Steven,” she cried. “It never was. Hansen is the one.” A sob tore past her lips. “Steven has been telling the truth all along.”
Garrett holstered his weapon. Held up his hands and glanced over one shoulder then the other. “Lower your weapons.”
The two deputies did as he ordered but not without a moment’s hesitation. He wouldn’t have expected less.
Taking a deep breath and hoping like hell he wasn’t making a mistake, Garrett turned back to Steven. “Put your weapon down and we’ll figure this out.”
Abbey looked back at her brother, said something Garrett couldn’t make out. Every second ticked off like a bomb exploding inside him. Somewhere on the perimeter of his consciousness he was aware his head still throbbed, but he ignored it.
Steven held up his hands. “I don’t have a weapon. We left the shotgun back at the treehouse.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Abbey said to Garrett. Then to her brother, she urged, “You can trust him.” She turned to Garrett and started toward him.
Garrett held his breath until she was close enough for him to hug her. “You sure about this?”
She nodded, drew back. “Hansen was going to kill us back there. He killed our father.”
Garrett didn’t have to question her about the statement. If she said it, she was certain it was accurate. A new kind of outrage tore through him. “Mitchell,” he called to the deputy on his right, “Get these two safely back to the house.” He turned to the one on his left. “Come with me, Prater.”
“Be careful, Garrett,” Abbey called behind him, “he has a handgun.”
Garrett held her gaze a moment longer. He barely restrained the urge to hug her again. Instead, he nodded, then took off through the trees.
He had never known Lionel Hansen to own a handgun. A rifle, a shotgun, yes. If he was armed with a handgun, then he’d taken it from someone.
Like Deputy Johnson.
Wherever the adrenaline came from Garrett was thankful for it. He made it to the tree line in record time. Prater right behind him.
The first thing he spotted was only two of the three SUVs that should have been parked in front of the house.
&nb
sp; One was gone.
The second thing was the tan uniform in the snow.
Fury propelled another burst of adrenaline into his veins.
Garrett rushed to the side of the downed deputy and checked the carotid pulse as Prater called for emergency medical aid.
Still alive.
Thank God.
One shot. Lower torso.
Garrett lifted Carla Vincent into his arms and struggled through the snow to the house. When he settled her on the kitchen table he turned to Prater. “Take care of her. I’m going after Hansen.”
Prater was already removing Vincent’s coat. “I got this. Be careful, Sheriff. That old man seems determined to take as many as possible with him before he goes down.”
Garrett gave his deputy a nod.
He was in the SUV and turning around when he spotted Abbey, her brother and his deputy emerging from the tree line.
At least that was something to be grateful for in this damned mess.
He barreled down the drive, following in the tracks rutted out. Thank God the snow had slowed to a near stop. He radioed dispatch and put out an APB on Hansen and the missing department vehicle.
He’d barely tossed aside the mike and powered the windows down to look both ways on Mill Creek when the missing SUV came into view.
Garrett eased out of the drive, going right. The SUV sat in the middle of the road, brake lights glaring. He rolled to a stop in the rutted snow behind the SUV. He jumped out, weapon drawn and approached the driver’s side with caution. A murdered deputy, a murdered elderly woman.
He killed our father.
Whatever Hansen was doing, he hadn’t moved. Brakes were still engaged.
Maybe he had another story to tell about what happened to his wife. To one of Garrett’s finest.
Besides Abbey’s father, who else had this SOB murdered?
Rage roaring through him, Garrett jerked the driver’s side door open and shoved the muzzle of his weapon into the driver’s face.
Lionel Hansen turned his head, his hand pressed to his abdomen, blood oozing from between his fingers.
As much as Garrett wanted to let him die, he called it in and did what he could to help until EMA arrived.
Chapter Fourteen