Cricket Cove

by Haddix, T. L.

  He took another step forward, and Amelia dropped the box, revealing the gun. She had already taken the safety off, but now she cocked the hammer and assumed a shooting stance. “I do not want to shoot you, Roger, but I will if you take another step.” He was still at least ten feet away from her, but she had no hope he’d stay there or heed her warning. Still, she had to try.

  When he saw the gun, his face turned ugly, into something that she almost didn’t recognize as human. “Bitch, you’re too weak to use that.” With a mighty roar, he lifted the aluminum bat over his head and started toward her.

  Amelia didn’t think. She just acted. Time slowed down as the gun discharged in her hand, tap-tap, tap-tap, just like Rick and Jack had taught her. She didn’t hear the explosion of gunpowder as the bullets left the barrel, just saw the flash. She barely felt the pistol’s recoil. The empty cartridges went flying as though in slow motion, and the gun’s slide moved back and forth with a clinking she felt instead of heard.

  When the smoke cleared, her ears were ringing, and she couldn’t breathe through the tightness in her own chest. She kept the gun pointed at Roger’s body, which was lying on the ground next to her car. If he got up and came toward her, she’d shoot him again.

  She didn’t hear her uncle’s shouts, was barely aware of Burke Lockhart’s hands going around hers to put the safety on the gun. All she knew was that if she took her eyes off Roger, he would get up and come at her again.

  Michelle was there suddenly, kneeling on the ground beside Roger. Amelia saw her shake her head, and then she was heading toward Amelia.

  “Pip! Pip! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  The words were distant, slowly increasing in volume as the ringing died down a little.

  Amelia shook her head. “You can’t trust him. He’ll get back up and he’ll hurt us. Don’t turn your back on him.” She wanted to reach out and move Michelle, but her arms didn’t cooperate. She couldn’t move.

  “Sweetheart, he’s dead. He’s not going to hurt anyone ever again.”

  “She should be here by now.” Logan’s gut was tight as he paced Emma’s living room. Something was wrong.

  “She’s only fifteen minutes late,” Rachel said.

  He shook his head. “No. Something’s wrong.” He didn’t miss the looks that were exchanged around the room; he just didn’t much care.

  Archer must have seen the worry on his face because he picked up the phone without a word and dialed. It was all Logan could do to not run across the room and snatch it away from him.

  “Jack? Hey, where’s Pip?”

  There was a strained silence as he listened to Jack on the other end of the phone.

  “What? When?”

  Logan watched as the color drained from his brother’s face. Whatever it was, it was bad.

  “She… is she okay?” He looked to Logan. “Who all… No, I understand. We’ll be there as soon as we can. You’re sure she’s okay?”

  There was absolute silence in the room as he hung up and everyone waited to learn what was going on. Archer looked as though he’d been punched, and he reached a trembling hand out to Emma. He kept his eyes on Logan, though, and stood.

  “She’s okay. Do you hear me, Lo? She’s okay.”

  Logan felt his eyes burn, and his face was frozen as he ground out, “No, she’s not. She’d be here if she was okay. What the hell is going on?”

  Archer came up to him and grasped his shoulders. “There’s no easy… She shot Roger. He’s dead. But she is okay. I swear to you.”

  There were gasps from all around the room.

  “She what?” Emma asked.

  “She shot him.”

  Logan felt like he was going to throw up. “Where is she?”

  “She’s on her way to the jail to get fingerprinted and to give her statement. Owen and Sarah are with her. Gilly and Michelle are with the kids. She and Burke, by chance, were at Jack’s when it happened.”

  “So we need to go to the kids?” John asked.

  “Yes. You all go ahead. Logan and I will go to the jail. Give me your keys,” he said.

  Logan gave an instant’s thought to arguing, then complied, fumbling them out of his pocket as his body started to vibrate. He was barely aware of Emma and Archer exchanging a brief hug, then Archer running after him, only stopping to grab both their coats.

  “I should have been there.” He swore as Archer whipped the SUV around in a U-turn. “I should have been there.”

  Archer didn’t patronize him by arguing, just drove. In less than five minutes, they were pulling into a parking spot across the street from the back of the courthouse where the jail was located. A voice hailed them from the street. It was Rick, and he looked worried.

  “Hey, are they here yet?” Archer asked Rick as they darted across the street to meet the deputy.

  “No. What the hell happened?” he asked. “Come on, let’s wait for them inside.”

  They followed him to the sheriff’s department. “All I know is that she shot Roger, and he’s dead,” Archer said.

  Logan was incapable of speech. He could barely breathe, and he fought down the panic that was racing through his body at the idea of Amelia having to defend herself with lethal force. What would that do to her, he wondered?

  “You weren’t there?” Rick asked.

  “No. We were at my house waiting for her. Did you get called on it?”

  He shook his head as he told the desk sergeant why they were there. “I heard the call and came in. I won’t be able to work on the investigation, since I’m family, but I wanted to be here to help if I can.”

  “Burke was at Jack’s, I guess. Good thing.”

  Logan was pacing the hallway. He could feel Rick’s and Archer’s concerned gazes, but he ignored them.

  When the door opened at the end of the hall, they all froze. Sarah came in first, her face drawn and as white as rice paper. Amelia was between her and Owen, head down, arms closed tightly over her chest. Logan’s eyes danced across her frantically, looking for any signs of trauma.

  Owen spotted him first, and he murmured to Amelia, who slowly raised her head. She didn’t move for what felt like forever, and then she was running to him. Logan caught her easily, lifting her off her feet as she sobbed in his arms. He was holding her too tight, he knew, but she was holding him just as tightly.

  “I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m here now. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. Shhh.” Over and over again he repeated the words, keeping his voice soft as she cried.

  He didn’t know which of them was shaking harder, him or Amelia. Archer and Rick stepped over to them, and Archer put one hand on Logan’s shoulder, his other hand going to touch Amelia’s hair.

  “Logan, bring her in here,” Rick said. “Let’s get the two of you some privacy.”

  Logan nodded his thanks and followed, directing Amelia into the small room.

  Rick patted her shoulder. “I’ll grab some tissues. We’ll wait right out here.”

  There was a table and three chairs in the room. Logan leaned against the table and pulled her to stand between his legs, then wrapped his arms around her.

  Rick brought the tissues then left, pulling the door halfway closed. Logan figured the state trooper who’d accompanied the Campbells would be standing just outside, listening.

  After several minutes, Amelia reached a shaking hand for the tissue box, pulling out a handful. She pulled back just far enough to blow her nose. Logan took another tissue and gently blotted her face.

  “Are you okay?” he rasped. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head, and buried her face in his chest again. “No. I’m f…f…fine.” She let out a shuddering sigh that caught on a hiccup. “I sh…shot him, Logan. I k…killed him. Oh, God.”

 
When she started hyperventilating, Logan sat her down in one of the chairs. “Rick? We need a paper bag in here, pronto.”

  “On it,” came the response from the hall. In just a few seconds, her cousin had the bag to Logan, who opened it and crumpled the mouth.

  “Put this over your mouth and nose, and just breathe. You’re doing fine, sweetheart. Just breathe.”

  Amelia’s eyes met his over the top of the bag, and Logan could see the panic slowly start to recede as her breathing evened out. He didn’t let her move it until just the tiniest hiccup remained.

  “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

  Logan kissed her forehead. “Hush.” He laid his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. “I guess she has to give her statement now?” he asked Rick.

  “Yeah. And unfortunately, you can’t stay with her while she does.”

  “Why not?” Amelia asked. “Please, can’t he stay?”

  “Sawyer? How about it?” Rick asked the state trooper who was standing in the hall. “Can he?”

  The tall, dark-haired man stepped into the room and studied them. “I’d prefer he didn’t. Were you the one involved in the ‘interrogation’ of the wife’s boyfriend?” he asked Logan.

  “I am.”

  Logan could tell the man wasn’t pleased by this admission. He didn’t care. Amelia’s comfort was his primary concern. He met Sawyer’s stare head on.

  Rick intervened. “I know you want him here, Pip, but as far as the integrity of the investigation goes, it would be better if he weren’t. In the long run, you want that integrity intact.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. I’ll be okay.”

  Logan tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “Are you sure? I won’t leave if you need me.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed her pale lips. “I’m sure. But could I use the restroom before we get started?” she asked Rick.

  “Absolutely. Let’s get you fingerprinted first, then you can go in and wash up from that.”

  Logan waited in the hall, staring after her until she was out of sight. The soft touch of a hand on his arm pulled his attention away from Amelia and down to Sarah.

  “Come sit down. She’ll be okay now.”

  After one last glance in the direction Amelia had gone, he nodded. He took the empty chair between her and Archer and rested his head in his hands.

  “We were starting to think she wasn’t going to cry. I guess she just needed to be with someone she didn’t have to be strong for.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and let it rest there.

  “I should have been there,” he told her roughly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know. When they rolled him over, they found a gun tucked in his belt. He started with a baseball bat, hitting her car. If you’d been there, he might have shot first, and we’d be the ones getting the death notification right now,” Owen said, clearing his throat. “Excuse me.”

  They watched as he hurried down the hall, hitting the door that led outside hard.

  Archer stood. “I’ll go. You two stay here.”

  Sarah let out a shaky breath and dabbed at her eyes. “We’d just sat down to eat when Noah got the strangest look on his face. He wasn’t there anymore, you could see that. It only lasted an instant. And then he looked straight at Owen and said, ‘Amelia needs you. Moira said you have to go now. She needs you.’ By the time he got to the bottom of the mountain, Roger was dead.”

  Logan put his arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug, and she patted his hand. “Who’s Moira?”

  “My niece. My sister Kathy’s daughter. Her father shot and killed her and her baby brother more than thirty years ago. Noah can see her. They’re friends.”

  “My God, Sarah. I’m sorry. Archer told me but I didn’t recognize her name. I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Most of the time when Noah says something about her, it’s comforting. But given the circumstances… He’s just a little boy. He shouldn’t know that sort of thing. He should be playing with corporeal friends, not ghosts. And I worry about what will happen to him in the future.”

  “Given the family he has supporting him? I’d say his odds are pretty good.”

  “There is that.”

  Amelia and Rick came out of a room down the hall at the same time Archer and Owen came back in. They stopped to talk, and Logan watched, wondering if the carefree girl he’d seen the last couple of weeks would ever emerge from the tragedy that was unfolding.

  “Do you love her, Logan?”

  The question shocked him enough to draw his attention away from Amelia, to look down at her mother. He thought about saying no, but he couldn’t.

  “Yeah, I do. When she didn’t show up tonight like she was supposed to, when I knew something was very wrong, it hit me, just how I feel, I mean.”

  “I’m glad. I think the two of you balance each other out. And I think you have a unique set of experiences that will help her get through this.”

  “I hope I can. I wish I’d been the one to pull the trigger, not her. Not that it wouldn’t affect me, but it’s a burden I’m used to carrying.”

  “Well, I wish he’d just driven off a cliff or something. And part of me wonders just how much of a hand Lori played in this. I know Emma has her suspicions. I have to admit, it’s all turned out well enough for Lori.”

  Logan was shocked. His poker face must not have been as good as he thought, because she shrugged. “I know Roger abused her, grievously, for years. No woman deserves that, no matter who she is, whether she’s likable or not. But… I can’t help thinking Lori shares more of the blame for what’s gone on recently than we know. I can’t help but wonder if Roger knew about Trace and if that’s why he started stalking my daughter.”

  “Where is Lori?” he asked as Rick, Archer, and Owen joined them.

  “From what Amelia said, Roger implied that she’d run away with Trace. I guess we’ll find out if that’s true or not once they try to do the notifications,” Rick said. “One of our deputies is doing that now.”

  They took turns pacing and making calls home over the next two hours until Amelia and the state trooper—Sawyer Evans, Logan learned—came out of the interrogation room. She went straight to Logan and let him hold her while Sawyer briefed them.

  “I have everything I need for now. Miss Campbell’s car has been impounded, and her driveway won’t be cleared until tomorrow. You’ll probably need to spend the night elsewhere. And like I said, I don’t foresee any problems for you legally—this sounds like a clear-cut case of self-defense—but I can’t promise that. That’s something that will only be determined once the investigation is complete.”

  “How long will that take?” Owen asked.

  “I anticipate it will be fast, given the circumstances. Two or three weeks, maybe, barring any complications.” He handed Amelia his card. “If you have questions, call me. Rick.” He tipped two fingers to his forehead and went down the hall.

  “He’s a good guy, sharp as hell. I’m glad he’s the one who got the case.” Rick sighed and held his hand out to Amelia. “You need anything, Pip?”

  She shook her head. “I just want to go home.”

  “We can arrange that,” Owen said. “You’ll stay with us. Logan, you, too.”

  “Actually, Daddy…” She looked up at Logan. “I’d prefer to not go back to the farm tonight. I’m guessing everyone’s there?”

  “They are,” Sarah answered. “Even Ben.”

  Logan touched her cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”

  “Yes. I can’t face everyone tonight. I just can’t.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he told her. He looked at Owen. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Owen gave a jerky nod and held h
is arms open. “You’ll come up tomorrow though, right?”

  Amelia went to him. “Of course. I just need time tonight. That’s all.”

  They went out to the street together, and Logan saw that Owen had parked behind him.

  “I’ll catch a ride to the farm, if that’s okay,” Archer said. “Then go home with my girls.”

  “You know that’s fine,” Sarah said. She hugged Amelia, then Logan. “Call if you need us, okay? Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

  “We will,” Logan promised. He was stunned when Owen grabbed him in a quick hug.

  “Take care of my baby.” He handed his keys to Archer and went across the street to stand beside the vehicle, bracing his hands on the roof. Sarah hurried after him.

  “See you tomorrow,” Archer said, following.

  Amelia was quiet during the drive, which didn’t surprise Logan in the least. Once they were upstairs, he shrugged out of his coat and watched her. She went to the middle of the room and looked around as though she were lost.

  “What do you want to do?”

  She shrugged. “I want it to stop hurting. But I don’t think that’s going to happen for a long time, is it?”

  He shook his head. “Probably not.”

  She let out a long sigh. “Then I want you to hold me so that it doesn’t hurt so much.”

  “I’ll be glad to do that.” He sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside him. “Kick your shoes off and come here.”

  For the rest of the evening, they sat curled up on the couch together, not doing anything more than holding each other with the occasional murmur of reassurance thrown in. Logan had pulled the blanket down off the back of the couch to cover up with, and they were toasty warm. When Amelia’s stomach started growling around ten, however, he kissed her forehead and got up.

  “You need food. Come to think of it, I need food. How does grilled cheese sound?” He started pulling the ingredients together.