The closer they got to Kenton’s, the more knots Ellie could count in her stomach. She was already having to remind herself to breathe. She rolled her shoulders, releasing the tension, then reached around behind her and pulled the pistol from her waistband. She checked the clip then patted her jacket pocket for the extra. Mitchell glanced at her and grinned.
“You plan on shooting someone?” He chuckled.
“Only if I have to.”
He slowly nodded, still grinning. “Ever fired it?”
“Sure.” The gun was incredibly heavy in her hand.
“Outside the shooting range?”
She glared at him hard then rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know I shot a perfect score.”
Mitchell eased into Kenton’s driveway. “Well, hopefully we won’t mess up your perfect record.”
She could feel the bile churning in her stomach, her heart racing. “Yeah, let’s hope so.”
Mitchell parked about halfway up the drive and cut off the engine. “We’re just going to talk to him, Ellie. No matter how bad you want to string him up, our mission is to get him to come down to the station for an interview. Hopefully before he lawyers up.”
He reached for the door but Ellie grabbed his arm. “You have your gun, right?”
Mitchell reached in across her and popped open the glove compartment. “Sure. I’ve got it. It’s right there.”
“You’re not going to carry it?” Her eyes were wide, the fear suddenly gripping her as tight as her grip on the door handle.
Mitchell shook his head. He got out of the vehicle. “You coming or am I going to have to do this interview alone?” he asked before he closed the door.
Ellie took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She’d done hundreds of interviews like this before, carted many off to the jail. Why was this one different? Why was that butterfly in her stomach fluttering like a two-ton elephant? God…if you’re listening…
The sun glistening off the snow cast a painful white glow. Kenton’s new truck was parked where it had been the other day, and judging by the untouched snow around it, it hadn’t been moved.
Ellie joined Mitchell and headed toward the house. “Since you’re a bundle of nerves, why don’t you let me do the talking,” he said, winking at her.
“I’m not nervous. I’m perfectly calm.” They were about twenty yards from the porch and that elephant in her stomach started doing somersaults. She stuffed her hands in her pockets to hide the trembling.
Mitchell chuckled and turned to smile at her.
Suddenly, Ellie heard the ear-shattering pop. Blood spattered against the freshly fallen snow, turning it bright crimson.
“Brady!”
Ellie hit the ground hard, covering her head, scrambling to get to Brady. Another blast tore through the deafening silence. “Oh, God…Oh, God…Oh, God, help me!” she prayed.
Brady was on his back, a stream of blood seeping from underneath him. He was wide-eyed, blinking furiously, and wheezing for breath. Ellie stared at the hole in his side. “Hang in there, Brady…hang in there.”
Tears stung her eyes, her fear beyond reason. She jerked her cell phone from her pocket and hurriedly punched in 911. There was no familiar dial tone. There was nothing. There wasn’t even a dispatch radio in the Expedition!
Brady moaned and tried to speak, but Ellie shushed him. “You’re not going to die on me, Brady Mitchell.” But she knew if she didn’t get him help and get it soon, he would die on her, and if Jerome Kenton had his way, she’d die too.
Brady shook his head. “Listen,” he said, his voice a shallow whisper. “Listen.”
Ellie tried but couldn’t hear anything above her heart thundering in her ears.
“Did you hear the click? He’s out of bullets.” Each word was wrapped in a noisy breath. “The truck hasn’t been moved.”
Ellie stared at the little house, the shattered front window where the shots had come from. She wanted Jerome Kenton more than anything, but she couldn’t leave Brady. Not like this. Not to die alone. There was no way to know for sure if he was out of ammo, and she couldn’t risk a stand-off. If she were to get into a stand-off with Kenton, all he’d have to do was wait it out—there was no help coming and Brady would certainly die right there in Kenton’s front yard.
She had to get help, and she was running out of time. She looked over at the shiny new truck and rusted grill under the little carport. The propane tank was still attached to the grill. Had God really heard her prayer? Could there still be gas in it?
With every ounce of strength she had in her, she wedged her arms under Brady’s shoulders and pulled as hard as she could, dragging him backwards toward his SUV. He groaned in pain as she tugged at him again and again. “Hang in there, Brady. Hang with me, man.”
Ellie dragged Brady’s dead weight until they were behind the vehicle and near the road. With one final heave, she fell backwards, exhausted, every muscle in her body crying in pain. She frantically wiggled out from under Brady and crawled over him, keeping an eye on the house. She heard noises, snow crunching under foot and suddenly, she spotted Kenton running from the back of the house toward the little shed.
Ellie covered Brady as best she could with her own body then drew her gun and sited the propane tank, blinking away the tears so she could see. She took a deep breath to steady her hands. One shot and the tank exploded into an orange ball of fire, flames shooting a hundred feet into the air, blowing the carport and truck into giant shards of flying metal. There was no way the mail carrier they had passed earlier could miss the fireball now raging.
Ellie scrambled over Brady then crawled to the Expedition and slid in, grabbing his gun from the glove compartment. Unless the shed had a back door, Kenton was still in it. She dropped Brady’s gun in her pocket then crouched beside the rear quarter panel to catch her breath. With her pistol in her hand, she gave another quick peek at the shed then burst into a full run toward the house. She crouched for cover at the porch, gasping for breath. The air was frigid and burnt her lungs as she sucked it deeply in. “Jerome,” she yelled as loudly as she could. The sound echoed in the stillness, reverberating off the snow-laden trees. “Jerome,” she yelled again. “I know why you did what you did with JJ. You had no choice.”
Despite the freezing air and wet clothes, sweat trickled from her brow, dripping into her eyes. The sun glaring off the snow was blinding enough. She quickly wiped her brow and squinted. “You had no choice, Jerome. You couldn’t take him to the hospital. There’d be too many questions.”
“You don’t know nothing!” Kenton said, his voice faint but angry. He was still in the shed.
Ellie’s eyes followed the trail of blood where Brady had fallen to where he lay at the edge of the driveway. Black plumes of smoke from the burning truck rose high into the pale colored sky. Help would be coming soon. She peeked around the edge of the house at the shed, took a deep breath then sprinted as hard as her legs would go toward the shed. She dove under the lean-to and rolled quickly into a crouch against the wooden wall. Her heart felt like it was going to explode and shatter her chest like the carport had when it blew apart. “Jerome, I know it was an accident. I know you didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”
She heard rustling in the shed and waited to hear the sound of Kenton reloading but it never came. He is out of bullets. She slowly stood and pressed her back against the wall, terrified to move, terrified not to. “Jerome…JJ’s alive. He told us everything. He told us how Becky loved him and how good she was to him.”
“She wouldn’t shut up. She wouldn’t stop screaming.”
By the sound of his voice, he wasn’t deep into the shed. He was close. The only thing separating them was the rickety wooden wall.
Slowly, she moved one foot in front of the other as quietly as she could.
All of a sudden, she was knocked backwards, completely off her feet as Kenton plowed into her head-first, slamming her hard into an ol
d tractor. Her gun spiraled through the air. A white-hot pain shot through her whole body as she felt her left arm snap below the elbow. She grabbed for it, screaming in agony, but Kenton slammed her head hard against the cold metal. He pounded at her face with brutal fists then drove them deep into her stomach. She tasted blood, her own blood, and wondered how often Becky Kenton had tasted her own blood.
With a fury fueled by adrenaline and anger, Ellie kicked furiously at him with the strength of a kick boxer and landed a strong blow to his crotch.
Kenton spiraled backwards, giving her just enough time to scramble away from the brutality. Her head spinning with pain, she fell to her knees and clutched her arm then tried to crawl to safety. Kenton was on her again. He drove her face deep into the snow as he pummeled the back of her head, handfuls of her hair wrapped around his fingers. She bucked like a wild horse until he jerked her over onto her back, the pain raging in her arm so intense she feared passing out. He drew back his fist, her face the target, but she wrestled out from under him and drove both her feet deep into his chest. She reached for Brady’s gun in her jacket pocket... Please, God, let it be loaded...
Kenton regained his footing and towered over her. When he saw the gun, he grinned and the evilness in him sent shivers down her spine. “You ain’t got it in you.” He smirked.
Ellie pulled the trigger.
23
Ellie’s eyes fluttered open for a moment then she squeezed them closed. She remembered the coldness of the snow, the way it stung her skin, the way it bit at her face. She slowly opened her eyes again, allowing her vision to adjust to the brightness. She tried to focus and get her bearings, but the pain was excruciating. Each breath brought a crushing feeling to her chest. She tried to swallow but her throat was painfully dry. She tried to cry out for help but the only sound she could make was a breathless moan.
“Don’t try to talk,” Jesse said. He was there beside her, his beautiful face slowly coming into focus.
Suddenly everything was coming into focus, and she knew where she was. She wasn’t in the freezing snow fighting for her life anymore; she was alive and safe in a warm hospital bed. Tears rolled from the corner of her eyes, stinging her face as they pooled in the cuts and scratches.
“You had me worried,” Jesse said as he gently dabbed a soft tissue at her tears.
“Jesse….” Her voice was crackly and shallow.
“You’re at Avery County Memorial Hospital.” He pressed the nurse call button then continued softly wiping away Ellie’s tears.
The last thing she remembered was Jerome Kenton standing over her and then…it all came back to her. She tried to lift her left arm and felt the heaviness of the cast.
“They had to put a pin in your wrist. They just operated yesterday so it’s probably goin’ to hurt pretty bad today.”
“Yesterday?” Her throat felt like she had swallowed a pail of sand. She swallowed hard, trying desperately to wet her throat. “What day is it?”
“You’ve been here three days, baby.”
A nurse padded into the room and stopped beside the bed. “Well, good morning, Miss Saunders. It’s good to finally see you awake.” She smiled then did a quick scan of the various monitors. “I’m Ruby, and I’ll be your nurse today. How’s your pain?”
“Hurts,” Ellie whispered.
Ruby nodded then checked the IV bag. “You took quite a beating. But I want to hold off just a little bit on the morphine and see if we can’t get you a little more awake, OK?”
“Can you give her something maybe not as strong?” Jesse asked.
Ruby winked at him. “We’re not going to let her hurt too long. Think you could handle some ice chips?”
Ellie nodded. Anything to take away the tightness in her throat. Ruby left and returned a moment later with a small cup of ice chips. She handed the cup to Jesse. “Start slow. Give her just a little bit at a time.” She raised the head of the bed to a forty-five degree angle. Ellie grimaced at the movement of the incline. “I know it hurts, but I want you to sit up for a little while. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake, and he’ll probably be in shortly. Call me if she needs anything,” she said to Jesse before she left.
Jesse gently placed the spoon in Ellie’s mouth. The ice was cold and burned sliding down but felt good to her parched throat. She took another small bite then slightly turned her head away from the spoon.
He set the cup on the table then pulled a chair up beside the bed. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a week, his hair a mess of tangled waves. His clothes were wrinkled and loose fitting and Ellie wondered how long it had been since he had been home. Had he been there the whole time? Had he been there since…?
“Brady?” she asked, the moisture slowly coming back to her voice.
Jesse nodded. “He’s down the hall. The shot really wasn’t that bad. He’s on blood thinners. That’s why he bled so bad. I think they’re going to release him tomorrow.”
Ellie closed her eyes and slightly nodded, then silently thanked God for his grace and mercy.
“He said you blew up Kenton’s truck to signal for help.”
Ellie slowly ran her tongue over her lips and nodded. “There was no radio. No signal on the cell phones. I had to do something.”
Jesse smiled. “Well, it worked. The mailman heard the explosion and saw the flames and called it in. The paramedics said if it had been another ten minutes, Brady would have bled out. We’d be going to a funeral instead of a retirement party.”
Funeral…oh, no.
“Peggy’s funeral….”
Jesse slightly nodded then grinned. “Aunt Sissy said you’d do anything to get out of going.”
“Daddy—”
“They’ll be here after lunch.”
Ellie took a painful breath and asked about Landon.
“Deveraux released him yesterday. Leon went home with them, to help them get settled.”
“Leon?”
Jesse chuckled. “Apparently, he and Ashley hit it off, and the next thing we know, Leon’s taking a day of vacation and going home with them.”
Ellie cracked a smile then the smile, although painful, led to a giggle. “Leon?”
“Yeah, I know. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”
“Poor Ashley.”
“See what happens when you’re not around to micro-manage everything? Poor unsuspecting Ashley falls for Leon. I told you, you should have let me go with you.”
Ellie smiled, reluctantly admitting to herself this was one time she wished she had listened to him.
Jesse’s expression suddenly turned solemn. He said quietly, “They found Becky’s body.”
It didn’t surprise her. “In the woods behind the house,” she whispered.
Jesse nodded. “How’d you know?”
“The first day we went out there, there were footprints in the snow leading to the woods. There were drag marks beside them.” Her heart ached for Becky Kenton and the hell on earth she lived through. Maybe God would forgive her for her part in Landon’s abduction, and she’d be able to live a peaceful life in Heaven.
“Kenton?” Ellie asked in a small voice.
Jesse looked at her for a long moment then slowly shook his head. “You hit him dead center.”
****
Ellie looked out her living room window, and, through the approaching dusk, gazed at the daffodils poking their heads up through the soft ground along the walkway. She admired their resilience. Year after year, they came back. Sometimes blooming underneath a heavy snow or an early spring cold spell. They never gave up or gave in to what seemed like unbeatable odds. She wondered if God was that way. Never giving up on troubled souls, waiting patiently for them to come around and reach their full bloom.
She went into the bathroom and pulled out her newly bought items of makeup. She opened the women’s magazine she’d bought at the grocery store to the how-to page and propped it on the back of the toilet. Moisturizer, check. Concealer, check. Foundation, check
. Green eye-shadow (to make her eyes pop), eyeliner, mascara, an eyelash curler, check, check, check. Lip-liner, lipstick, cream blush, and finishing powder, check, check, check, and check. She stared at the assortment of makeup, wondering if each piece was really necessary to achieve the light and natural new look for spring the magazine boasted. Maybe she should have allowed more time to do this? Jesse was picking her up in about half an hour.
She read the instructions on the small tube of moisturizer then applied a dab on her cheeks, under her eyes and on her forehead. Next came the concealer, guaranteed to hide imperfections and flaws. It looked like a tube of yellow lipstick. Was it really that easy? She’d been hiding her imperfections and flaws for years. Or maybe hiding behind them was a better choice of words. For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God… He still loves me despite all my flaws. She put away the concealer and foundation, the lip liner and that odd-looking lash curler. Keep it simple, stupid, she told herself, then applied a thin dusting of eye shadow and a small amount of eyeliner. She accidentally poked herself in the eye with the mascara brush. “Ouch,” she cried, using a tissue to dab away the tears. She wondered if women who carried mascara in their purses should be required to have a concealed weapon permit.
She put away her collection of makeup then glanced at herself in the mirror. The bruises on her face had faded, and all that remained was a slight scar under her bottom lip. If you didn’t know it was there, you wouldn’t even see it. But Ellie knew it was there. It would always be there. But it wasn’t a bad thing—it was a reminder of a mother who found her son, and a little boy’s miracle that saved Ellie from herself.
She went into the bedroom and looked at herself in the pedestal mirror. She was wearing a lightweight sweater and jeans. Jesse had told her to dress casual, to wear jeans, but she wasn’t so sure about this wearing jeans to church thing. It had been so long since she had set foot in a church, she wasn’t sure of the protocol. Why she ever agreed to go with him she’d never know. But like those stupid little daffodils, he was nothing if not persistent.
The Rising Page 23