Young. Stupid. Arrogant idiot.
He announced himself before he entered—Carter had left the door open. No reason to make him break it down, after all. He wasn’t trying to hide.
Backing out of the living room, he waited in the formal dining room. It was a new game of cat and mouse, and it had his heart racing. His last game—that was what today was. His last game, and now that he’d settled down to play, it was turning out to be pretty damn fun.
Floorboards creaked as Sheffield came into the living room.
Carter watched the floor, judging by the shifting shadows as Sheffield drew closer to the open doorway between the two rooms.
“Miz Sparks? It’s the County Sheriff’s office. Can you tell me where you are?” Ethan called out. Not so much arrogance in his voice this time.
A wicked little smile curled Carter’s lips. Why, Ethan … she’s dead. I’ll tell her you dropped by …
Ethan drew closer to the dining room and Carter backed away, edging out and circling around, carefully avoiding the boards that squeaked—he’d taken care to learn them, and he placed his weight with caution. When he peered around the doorway, Ethan had already made his way through the dining room.
Smiling, Carter moved faster. It was his own arrogance that tripped him up. He didn’t double-check before he came around the corner and he found himself staring down the business end of Ethan’s service revolver.
“What the …” Ethan shook his head, gaping.
Carter might have been touched by the astonishment in the boy’s eyes—if he had cared.
He didn’t, though.
Ethan shrugged it off, though, and he did it fast. In a harsh, flat voice, he said, “Drop the weapon.”
Carter smiled. “No.”
He jerked it up, aimed.
He pulled the trigger just as Ethan got a round off.
The fiery pain that cut through his arm was a shock. A brutal, burning one. In the end, it was also one that didn’t matter, because Ethan went down, his throat a raw, bloody wound, blood gushing. Carter kicked his weapon away and then bent over, grabbed the radio, jerked it off. He’d be dead in no time.
As he was walking to the door, another fiery pain hit him.
A bullet, ripping through the side of his calf.
He stumbled, slammed into the doorjamb. Looking back, he watched as Ethan’s backup weapon fell from his hand. Watched as his eyes went empty. Lifeless.
Lena closed her eyes.
The sound of a gunshot echoing through the night was like the start of the nightmare all over again. Except she wasn’t alone.
Her hand clenched in Puck’s fur and every once in a while, she rubbed her finger over her wedding ring. Ezra was still out there. Searching, looking for evidence, or something. Maybe even looking for Carter. Roz … damn it, where the fuck was Roz?
There was a deputy pacing around her house.
Law, Hope, and Nia were here. And she knew she wasn’t going crazy—knew people believed her. All good things.
So why was she still so terrified?
There was a thunderous bang at the front door and she jolted, barely managed to suppress a whimper. She hadn’t even made it to her feet when Law said softly, “I’ll get it, Lena.”
She didn’t bother arguing. Why should she? There was only a handful of people she’d let in right now anyway and two of them were already in here. The other three were her husband—and he lived there, so he didn’t entirely count—Roz, and Remy.
And it turned out to be Remy, she learned in under twenty seconds. Hope’s relieved sigh told her that without anybody even having to say his name. Lena smiled as she heard her friend rushing across the floor to him. “Oh, man, am I glad to see you.”
“You, too,” Remy murmured.
His voice … he sounded like he’d aged ten years. Poor bastard.
“Hey Remy.” Resting her head on the back of the chair, Lena said softly, “I take it you’ve been told what’s going on.”
Silence fell, heavy and tense. Then he said, “Yes.”
Lena nodded. “Don’t suppose you know where Roz is, do you? I haven’t been able to get ahold of her all day.”
“She … is in the hospital. And don’t ask anything else right now, because I don’t know.”
Roz—hospital—
Lena’s heart leaped into her throat.
“Don’t ask anything else?” she snarled, shoving upright. Next to her, Puck tensed. “Excuse me, but did you just tell me not to ask?”
“Yeah. I did. I can’t tell you shit, so save us the headache and don’t ask,” he bit off.
“That’s one of my best friends, damn it. You want me to just meekly sit here and not wonder why she’s in the hospital?” Her hand curled into a fist and she all but shook with the need to do something violent.
“She’s my cousin’s wife and I’m still trying to figure out why she’s in the damn hospital. I’m still trying to figure out a whole hell of a lot of things, Lena, and guess what, nobody’s giving me any answers, either.” He paused and then suggested, “Deal with it.”
Her nails bit into the flesh of her palm. She wanted to hit him. She knew where he was standing and she suspected she could probably aim for that oversized, arrogant head of his just fine.
But then a hand touched her arm. Law said quietly, “Lena … enough.”
“Enough? Enough?” She jerked back. Fury burned inside her, hot and brutal and ugly. She shook her head. Next to her, Puck tensed, snarled. She rested a hand on his head. “No. Not enough—”
“You didn’t just find out your cousin was out killing people,” Hope said. “And considering what all is going on, whatever is wrong with Roz, chances are it’s from something Carter did—I think Remy’s got enough to deal with. Give him a break.”
Lena scowled. Then guilt started to settle in, slippery and nasty. “Well, hell.” Dropping back into her chair, she pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes. Puck rested his head by her feet, whining gently. “It’s okay, boy.”
“This day isn’t ever going to end, is it?”
Despite himself, despite the misery and grief and guilt that had choked him for the past few hours, Remy was able to look at Hope with something of a smile. She had a light glinting in her eyes as she stared at Lena, all but daring the other woman to say anything else.
Across the room, Nia said with a smirk, “Look at Tinkerbell going all mama-bear.”
Hope snapped, “Oh, shove the Tinkerbell crap up your ass.”
For about two seconds, Nia just stared at her. Then she started to laugh.
Ignoring her, Hope hooked her arm through Remy’s and led him out into the hallway. “Where have you been all day?” she asked quietly. “I’ve been trying to call.”
“I … I know. I should have called, but once we found Roz, I … shit. I needed a few minutes. I don’t feel like I can breathe, Hope. This is choking me,” he said, looking away. “I knew you were over here with Law, knew you were safe. I … uh. I’ve texted him a few times, asked him not to tell you. I just needed a few minutes.” Then he sighed and rubbed his hands up and down his face. “Shit, I still can’t believe this is happening. How can this be real?”
Instead of saying anything, she just leaned her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Remy tucked her head under his chin and held her tight. For a few seconds, he allowed himself that luxury. Then he eased back. “Ezra said he was sending a car out.”
Hope nodded. “It got here a couple hours ago. One of them is here—Keith, I think? The other said there was a call he had to see to—left about ten minutes ago.”
Remy frowned. “Ezra will have his ass.”
“That’s the impression I got when I heard Law talking to the deputy.” Hope shrugged. “I don’t think the other deputy believes what he’s being told. It’s the one who flirts all the time, Ethan, I think.”
“Shit.” Remy pressed his lips to her brow. “Go back in there
with them. I want to talk to Keith, see what’s going on.”
She glanced at the door. “I want to come outside, damn it. We’ve been cooped up in here all day.”
“And that’s how it’s going to be for a little while longer. Sorry.” He pushed a hand through her dark hair, then cupped the back of her neck, pulled her close for a kiss. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She scowled and then headed back into the room, her hands shoved deep into her back pockets.
Remy watched her for a minute and then headed for the front door. As he was walking out, he heard footsteps behind him. Glancing back, he saw Law and he scowled, but ignored him.
He caught sight of Keith’s shadow just as he was circling around from the back. “Where’s your partner?” he called, striding down toward the edge of the porch.
Keith sighed. “Shit.”
The front screen door banged open as Law came outside.
“Reilly, you’re not supposed to be outside,” Keith said. “Would you get back in there before the sheriff kicks my ass even harder than he’s already going to do?”
Law shrugged. “Your ass ain’t my concern.”
Keith glared at him and leaped up on the porch. As Law headed their way, there was a cracking shot—as it echoed, Keith lunged for Reilly. Remy hit the ground.
Law’s scream echoed through the night.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
NIA HEARD HIM SCREAM.
She didn’t have to look to know who it was.
She bolted for the door, but Hope caught her arm. Wide-eyed, she said, “We have to stay inside.”
“You do that—stay inside,” Nia snapped.
“Damn it, if we go out there, that just makes it easier for him,” Hope said, her small, slim fingers clutching Nia’s arm with surprising strength.
“Fuck—”
There was another gunshot. Nia whirled around and hit the lights. “We need to stay down,” she said, her voice brusque. “Let my arm go. We need to get the lights out. It’s dark out now—with the lights on, we’re too easy to see. And the guys outside, it’s even worse.”
Hope went white. Then slowly, her fingers uncurled from Nia’s arm.
Nia didn’t absolutely plan on going outside. Not if she didn’t have to. But she had to know—
Crawling on her hands and knees made the few feet between the living room and the front door seem twice as long. She hit the lights with her fist and then gave her eyes a minute to adjust before she cracked open the door. She saw Remy out there, bent over Law.
Holy fuck—he was sitting up.
The color came back into her life, her heart started to beat and she let herself breathe. Thank You, God, she whispered. “Law,” she whispered, keeping her voice low.
He shot her a pained look.
Remy was using his tie as a tourniquet, tying off Law’s right leg. There was a wet, glistening pool of blood forming underneath.
Nia didn’t see the deputy anywhere.
She cracked the door open wider. “Get in here,” she said quietly. “Now—”
A bullet hit the door, shattering glass, splintering wood.
She barely managed to keep her scream behind her teeth.
Law shook his head. “I think that means I’m supposed to stay out here.” He gave her a tight smile, then shifted his gaze down.
It didn’t catch any light—that was the nice thing about the guns she’d picked up. That matte black made them damn hard to see in the dark. She recognized it from months ago. He’d kept it. For some reason, it made her smile. “I’m going to wait right here for a few minutes.”
Remy slid her a look. “Get in there, the three of you stay together,” he said softly. He glanced at Law’s gun—a subtle glance, one that didn’t move his head at all, then back at her. “You got another?”
With a mean curl of her lips, she whispered, “Bet your ass.” It was in her bag in the living room.
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“Get together. Find a place and hide.” He had his body curled around in a way that hid his hands and that was when she saw his phone. “The cavalry will be here soon.”
She swallowed. Okay. Could they stay alive, though? Then she wanted to kick herself. Hell, yes, they’d stay alive. She hadn’t made it through all of this, found the bastard who’d killed her cousin, found Law … to die now. None of them had come through this hell to die now.
Backing away, she retraced her path into the living room. She kept low to the floor, scuttling along on her hands and knees. Seeing her bag there was a beautiful sight. Unzipping it, she reached inside, pulled out her gun.
The solid, heavy feel of it in her hand was reassuring and she let herself breathe just a little easier. She wasn’t helpless—had never been helpless. He was a fool beyond measure if he thought she would go down easy. Taking one more, deep, steadying breath, she looked up and met Hope’s gaze, then shifted her attention to Lena.
The two of them were crouched on the floor by the couch, Puck standing guard.
“Law’s alive. The bullet hit him in the leg.” She looked at Hope, saw her pale face. “I opened the door for them to come in, but as soon as I did, the bastard shot at the door—they try to come in, they’ll get shot—at least that’s the message I got.”
Hope whimpered and then clamped a hand over her mouth.
Lena swallowed. “And the deputy?”
“I didn’t see him.” She glanced toward the window, hidden by the shades and the curtains. “Remy wants us to stay together and hide. He’s already called for help. Now we just hide until help gets here. It’s your house, Lena. Where do we hide?”
Law gritted his teeth against the pain, telling himself he wasn’t going to break down and whimper like a girl. And hell, if any of the women in the house heard that? They’d smack him. Yeah—that’s it, focus on anything besides the fact that his leg was screaming like a bitch, anything besides the blood that was still oozing out despite the makeshift tourniquet Remy had made of his tie.
Panting, he looked at Remy. “You need to get in there with them.”
Remy shot a glance at the door, then toward the trees. “Any time I try, he sends a nice loud message.”
Yeah. Law had heard those messages, all four of them. Lena’s house was getting fucked up, big time. With a scowl, he said, “I don’t care—Nia’s in there. Hope. Lena. You think he’s cutting us off for jollies?”
“No.” Remy looked down the porch. In a low voice, he called out, “Keith?”
“I’m down here.” The whisper was practically lost in the night, it was so quiet.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
Crouched in the dirt, his body hidden by the porch, Keith Jennings held his service revolver and stared into the night. He hadn’t been entirely honest. The shooter—and he had to assume it was Carter—had laid down a line of fire and Keith had taken a graze to his left arm, but it wasn’t anything that would slow him down.
Remy’s voice floated to him again. “We need somebody in the house and I can’t—I move and he starts shooting again.”
Yeah. Keith had noticed that. The shooter wouldn’t do it forever, though. He couldn’t, because he had plans to get in the house. And unless Keith was seriously mistaken, he’d already started to move.
Still—going inside when he had a wounded man just a few feet away …
His radio crackled. “Dispatch, come in. Son of a bitch, we’ve got a mess—”
Swearing silently, he clamped a hand over it to muffle the sound as he fought to turn it off. Another thunderous crack tore through the night. Something stung his face. Looking up, he squinted at the painted wood of the porch post.
The light was dim, but he was pretty certain there was some damage to it—a bullet.
The shooter had heard Keith’s radio.
And judging by the angle, he was definitely moving through the woods. Circling around, heading to the back of the house. Damn i
t … “Are you two okay?”
Law’s laugh was wracked with pain. “Oh, I’m just peachy, Deputy. Now would you get your ass in the house? He can’t see you.”
Keith doubted the shooter would have been able to see the other two after another minute, but he didn’t point that out. He wanted those two out of the danger zone and if the shooter was heading around to the back, then the front was the safer place. “Remy?”
“I’m fine,” he bit off. “Shit, I don’t think he wants to shoot me. If he did, I’d already be dead.”
Yeah. Keith had already figured that much out, too.
He didn’t waste another second. They’d wasted too many already.
Just how stupid did they think he was?
Carter stood there, shaking his head as he waited for Keith to creep around the corner of the house.
He waited in the shadows until he had a good shot. It took some doing. Keith was careful, using the lack of light, the shadows of the house to his advantage. But as he came to the deck, Keith had to risk exposing himself and that was when Carter fired.
This weapon, unlike the shotgun he’d used earlier, was virtually silent. Save for the green laser, it made no sound. And he had to be quick, precise—if Keith saw the laser, it would be too late.
He waited until Keith went to slip into the house, his back turned for just a moment.
Then he fired.
Keith stumbled, fell.
As he jogged toward the deck, he checked the time. It had been three minutes since he’d shot Law. He had less than fifteen minutes before Ezra would arrive—no, he hadn’t seen anybody call, but he knew they would have already done it. It didn’t matter. He’d either finish the job and be gone by the time they got here, or he’d finish up when the sheriff got here.
He wasn’t picky. He wasn’t even worried, now that it was coming down to it.
He’d always known how he’d handle it if he was discovered.
Carter would be damned before he went into a cage—no fucking way. All he wanted to do was take some people with him. The people who had pushed this on him—namely Lena and Nia.
Although he hadn’t heard any sirens, he imagined the radio he’d heard earlier was the sheriff’s office discovering his surprise out at Deb’s place. More of the sheriff’s minuscule police department out there, dealing with the mess he’d left for them. That nosy bitch wouldn’t be causing anybody any more problems now. Not ever.
If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Page 29