The killer crouched with his back to the door, holding his mother clutched against his chest. He pressed the short, black barrel of a revolver to her temple, and only his eyes, without a hint of compassion, were visible above the top of her head. His mother’s face was pale in the dim light of the fixture above them, but she didn’t appear to be injured.
“You can see I’m not bluffing!” Legrand shouted. “Get out from behind that car. The bitch, too. You have five seconds to get your asses out here.”
“I think Jaimee broke her leg when she rolled into the ditch. She can’t move, but I’m coming.” Holding his hands above his head, Eli stood upright and stepped around the open car door.
“No, Eli, don’t come any closer,” his mom cried out.
Seemingly in slow motion, the killer turned his weapon on him, and Eli wondered briefly if this was the way he’d die. A shot rang out, a sharp crack that echoed in the night. The revolver clattered to the porch as the man crumple, releasing his hold on Eli’s mother. With a cry, she stumbled away and ran down the steps. Eli reached her halfway across the front yard and pulled her into his arms.
“Are you hurt, Mom?”
“I’m okay.” Her voice was choked with tears. “Oh, God, I was so afraid he’d shoot you.”
Eli held her tight as running footsteps pounded the ground. Moments later, three figures appeared out of the dark. Patch went straight to the porch and kicked the revolver away before kneeling beside Legrand.
“You hit him dead center in the forehead, Scarlet.”
Eli turned his head as Jaimee approached from behind him. She stopped a few feet away, and a shudder wracked her body.
“I don’t think I could have made that shot.” The speaker was slightly shorter than the doctor and had a solid build. A quick grin flashed across his face, and admiration brightened dark eyes. “That was freaking amazing. It took guts to even try it.”
A big, blond man stepped up beside Jaimee and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” She let out a slow breath. “It was risky, but I couldn’t see any other option.”
The man patted her back before stepping away. “You knew you wouldn’t miss. You never do.”
Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, breaking the silence that followed his words.
“Hell, one of the neighbors must have called the police when they heard the shots.” Patch ran down the porch steps.
“Go,” Jaimee said. “If you don’t, the local cops will undoubtedly haul you in for questioning. I expect I’ll be spending the night in jail, and I don’t need any company.”
“I’ll make a phone call.” The blond giant spoke gruffly. “I have a contact who will see to it you’re released. Are you sure you don’t want us to stay to back you up?”
“Positive. I have a feeling this is going to take all night to sort out. Counterstrike doesn’t need to be officially involved.”
“Then, we’re out of here.” He glanced over at Eli and gave him a brief nod. “No time for introductions, but I’m happy your mother is safe.”
“I am, too. I appreciate your help.”
Without another word, all three men ran toward the woods. They disappeared just before headlights flashed on the road, still some distance away but approaching fast.
Jaimee stepped closer and took one of his mom’s hands to squeeze it. “I’m so relieved that madman didn’t hurt you. When the police ask, just Eli and I came in response to Legrand’s demands. Are you fine with that, Maisie?”
“I won’t say anything about your friends.” In the glare from the approaching vehicle, she wiped her tear-streaked face. “I don’t know how to thank you. I thought for sure that man was going to kill me, but I nearly fainted when I felt the wind off that bullet touch my face.”
“God, Mom.” Eli glanced over at Jaimee but couldn’t read her expression. Lips pressed in a firm line, she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “It’s my fault that maniac grabbed you to begin with. What are we going to tell the police?”
Jaimee turned to face the headlights and raised her hands in the air as doors slammed and voices called out. “We’ll tell them the truth. Legrand is dead.” She glanced toward the porch where the killer’s body lay in a crumpled heap on the wooden boards. “At this point, there’s no reason not to. That man won’t hurt anyone ever again.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jaimee faced Detective O’Leary across a table in a windowless room. It was past midnight, and she’d had about enough. Eli and his mother had been taken elsewhere when they’d arrived at the sheriff’s office, and she had no idea if they were still in the building. Feeling like a criminal—which she assumed was his intention—she answered the detective’s most recent question for the third time.
“My weapons are legally registered, which I’m sure you confirmed some time ago. I took them with me when I knew I’d be facing an assassin. I’m not a fool.”
“No, you seem to be very bright and resourceful.” O’Leary leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. The tail of his shirt had come untucked from his pants, and coffee stained one cuff, but he didn’t seem to care that he looked more like a vagabond than a professional. His manner was all business. “Was it your intention to kill the man we’ve identified as Gilles Legrand when you went to meet him?”
“My intention was to get Maisie Bradburn out of there alive. I was prepared to do whatever was necessary to save her life.”
“Anything but call the police like most law-abiding citizens would have done. Why is that, Ms. Fleming?”
“Legrand made it clear he’d kill her if he saw any cops. I believed him.”
“And you didn’t fear for your own life?”
“Of course I did. Our only hope was to catch him by surprise. Unfortunately, he left me no choice but to shoot to kill. Had I not, Eli and Maisie would probably both be dead right now.”
“Based on what Mr. Croft and Mrs. Bradburn told me, that was one hell of a shot. If you’d been off target by an inch, you would have hit Mrs. Bradburn. You were convinced you wouldn’t miss?”
Jaimee looked him squarely in the eye. “Yes.”
“You’re sure you didn’t just get lucky?”
“I was an Olympic biathlete, Detective O’Leary. It wasn’t luck. It was skill.”
“I did a little research on you, and your impressive athletic achievements were years ago. You weren’t afraid you’d grown rusty over time?” His eyes narrowed. “Or have you had a reason to hone your skills more recently?”
She didn’t even blink. “I’ve done a little target practice. I was confident in my aim.”
“Apparently so. Let’s talk about why you didn’t go to the police after you saw that man murder Mrs. Croft. Most people would have run straight to the sheriff’s office, but you chose to stay quiet. Why is that?”
“For the record, I arrived after Maureen was already dead. Honestly, I was afraid for my life, and at the time, I didn’t trust Sheriff Frank’s ability to keep me safe from a professional hitman. Also, I overheard Legrand mention he had a contact in law enforcement. I can’t tell you who this person is or where he works, but I didn’t want to risk putting a larger target on my back. That freak shot me twice, a graze when I fled the mansion after he’d murdered Maureen, and a cracked rib when he chased me through the woods near my home.”
O’Leary straightened in his chair. “Legrand was working with a cop?”
“He mentioned an inside source when he was on the phone with whoever hired him. You can understand why I felt keeping a low profile was the safest choice.”
“You were wounded?”
Jaimee pressed a hand to her side and nodded. “A friend fixed me up since I was afraid to go to a hospital. Legrand was extremely resourceful. He put a tracker my car, and he seemed hell bent on taking out any witnesses to his hit—namely, me. Look, I’m not the criminal here. Right now, my side aches. I may have cracked another rib diving into that ditch, a
nd I’m exhausted. Are we almost finished?”
“There’s still the matter of the file you . . . acquired.”
“We intended to turn everything over to the police, but the situation went to hell before we had an opportunity. Do you plan to arrest me, detective? At this point, even a lumpy mattress in a jail cell is preferable to sitting here answering questions.”
His lips quirked upward into a brief smile. “You have guts, I’ll give you that, Ms. Fleming. Actually, I’m more inclined to thank you for recovering the forged documents. Knowing the aliases Legrand was using should go a long way toward closing a few outstanding homicide cases involving contract killers.”
“I’m happy to be of some assistance.” She did her best to keep a heavy dose of irony out of her tone.
“And while I would normally detain you until a hearing can be arranged, you appear to have friends in high places. The deputy director of the FBI put in a request that we release you on your own recognizance. I wasn’t going to argue with him.”
Jaimee stared at him for a moment, feeling a little stunned. Wolf certainly did have friends with clout. Finally, she pushed back her chair. “Can I leave, then?”
O’Leary nodded. “I’ll be in touch after I turn my report over to the D.A. first thing tomorrow. Since we’ve also been instructed to expedite this case, she may need to speak with you before making a determination.”
“I’ll be available. Just give me a call.” Jaimee rose to her feet. “Did Eli and Maisie leave? I’m afraid I don’t have any transportation.”
“One of Bagley’s deputies took Mrs. Bradburn and her son home some time ago. Mr. Croft returned, and I believe he’s waiting for you in the lobby. You won’t be able to reclaim your weapons until this situation is cleared up.”
“Hopefully I won’t have any reason to need them.” Jaimee followed O’Leary down the hall and through a room filled with desks, all empty at this time of the night.
He held the door open for her. “I appreciate your cooperation, Ms. Fleming.”
“Despite what you might think, I’m happy to tell you everything I know now that I’m not in danger of being killed by that lunatic.” With a nod, she left the inner sanctum and met Eli’s gaze as he tossed a magazine on the table and stood.
“How’d it go?”
“They didn’t arrest me, so I’d say it went fine.” She gave him a tired smile. “Thanks for coming back to get me.”
“Did you think I’d just leave you here? I was prepared to post bail, but the woman behind the counter told me that wouldn’t be necessary.” He pushed open the exterior door, and a cool gust of wind swirled into the building.
“That was Wolf’s doing.” Jaimee shivered. “After everything that happened tonight, I wasn’t too sure if you’d want to see me again.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He unlocked the rental car for her.
Jaimee slid onto the seat and waited for him to go around to the driver’s side before answering. “I think you learned some things about me in the last few hours that didn’t exactly thrill you. Am I wrong?”
“Let’s just say I have a lot to think about.” He started the engine. “But I’d rather do it when I’m not exhausted.” He abruptly changed the subject. “Good thing I noticed my mom’s rental car parked down the street from my house when we drove by earlier. I got a text that my car was towed to the garage here in town. I’ll have to call them in the morning to get the damn thing repaired.”
“So, we aren’t going to talk about the fact that I killed a man?”
He stared straight ahead as he drove down the empty street. “I’d rather not.”
“Fine.” Her heart ached. They’d passed the Croft estate before she spoke again. “I guess you can take me back to my cabin.”
He snapped his head around to look at her in the dark. “Is that what you want?”
She swallowed against the burn of tears in the back of her throat. “It might be for the best, all things considered.”
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a little company tonight. We both went through quite a trauma, and a little human contact might ease my raw nerves. Maybe you’re used to dealing with the aftermath of a situation like that, but I’m not.”
“I may be used to it, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’d like to go back to your house.”
He didn’t answer, just laid his hand on her thigh and squeezed before returning it to the steering wheel. They were quiet until he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. He’d left the outdoor floodlights on, and the conflicting emotions he was feeling were revealed in the depths of his eyes. Gratitude. Wariness. Turmoil.
“What you did couldn’t have been easy, but you saved my mom’s life. For that, I’m extremely grateful. Thank you.”
“I did what needed to be done. Nothing more or less.”
“Let’s go get some sleep.”
Jaimee followed him into the house and stopped in the entry to greet Watson when the dog ran up to her with his tail wagging. His infectious joy eased some of the melancholy holding her in a tight grip. Maybe she’d only done what was necessary when she’d pulled the trigger, but the darkness inside her wasn’t assuaged by the knowledge. Still, she’d do it again under the same circumstances. Without hesitation. Maybe that made her a monster, if not an unfeeling one.
The pain and anguish eating at her soul was the only thing separating her from killers like Legrand. She crouched down to press her cheek against Watson’s fur and hugged him as he licked her face, needing the unconditional love.
“Are you okay?” Eli touched her shoulder, his palm warm through her shirt.
She nodded and pushed to her feet. “Did your mom go to bed?”
“She said she planned to take a hot shower, have a cup of tea to calm her jitters, and then try to sleep. I told her a bottle of wine might be the answer.”
Jaimee smiled. “I wouldn’t blame her in the least. She went through a harrowing experience.” Her smile faded. “Based on what I know about victims, counseling might be beneficial. Your mom will probably experience anxiety and flashbacks common to PTSD sufferers. Learning how to cope with the symptoms can make moving forward easier.”
“I’ll talk to her about it. She seemed remarkably calm when I left, but she probably didn’t want to worry me.” He slid an arm around her waist and led her toward the stairs. “Kind of like you’re doing right now.”
“Falling apart doesn’t help me. Time tends to ease some of the rawness.” She stopped at the doorway to his room. “I wish tonight had gone differently, but it didn’t, and we both have to make our peace with that.”
“I’m exhausted, and I’m sure you are, too.” He brushed the tips of his fingers across her cheek. “I’ll understand if you want to stay in the other guest bedroom, but my only intention right now is to sleep.”
“I’m certainly not up for anything else, but that doesn’t mean I need my own bed.” She followed him into the room, with Watson trailing behind them. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I’m filthy.”
“Of course not.” He shut the door. “Everything you need should be in my bathroom. I didn’t think to ask if your bag is in the car.”
“I didn’t stop to pack after you called. I left with the clothes on my back.”
“You can sleep in one of my T-shirts.”
She nodded and headed into the bathroom. Turning on the water as hot as she could stand it, she stripped off her clothes, and stepped under the spray. Standing with her head hanging, she let the stinging water wash over her as her legs trembled and the tears came. She only allowed herself a moment of weakness before straightening her back and picking up the soap. The door opened while she was shampooing her hair, and then shut again before she could open her eyes. After turning off the water, she dried her hair as best she could and slipped the blue T-shirt Eli had left by the sink over her head. Finding a new toothbrush in a drawer, she used it and then left the bathroom.
&n
bsp; “Be careful you don’t step on Watson.”
Smiling, she felt her way in the dark to the side of the bed and slid under the covers. Eli pulled her against his chest and tucked her close before resting his chin on her head. Enveloped by his warmth, she relaxed against him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair.
“For what?”
“For creating an untenable situation. For not giving you a choice.”
“You didn’t force me to do anything. That was my call. Anyway, Legrand was the instigator, not you.”
“I contacted you, knowing full well you’d come.”
“Maybe, but what happened wasn’t on you.” She laid her cheek against the hard muscle of his arm. “That man was evil. If you believe in an eye for an eye, he more than deserved his fate.”
“Do you?”
“I used to. But then I had to ask myself what I deserve for my part in stopping the horror men like Legrand unleash on innocents. It’s complicated. There are a lot of shades of gray clouding the issue, and I’m far from pure in any moral debate.”
“Your intentions are worthy, which certainly matters. I admire your determination.”
“I suppose that’s something. I care about how you see me. It’s better for you to know the truth about who I am and what I was. We can’t build a relationship on lies.”
“No, we can’t.”
Despite his supportive words, she had a feeling the truth had thrust a wedge between them. She hoped she was wrong because her Eli had torn down most of her protective barriers, leaving her vulnerable and aching with self-doubt. Too tired to think any more, or even worry about what the morning would bring, she closed her eyes and drifted into a haze of dreams . . .
A dark shadow filled the periphery of her vision. Holding her breath, she took aim and squeezed the trigger. But when a beam of light illuminated the room, it wasn’t Legrand who lay crumpled against a stack of best-selling books and dog leashes. It was Eli.
“No!”
She woke with a start, heart pounding, and the T-shirt she wore plastered to her sweat-dampened body.
Fatal Encounter (A Counterstrike Novel Book 1) Page 21