by Dea Poirier
That I knew. Even if I hadn’t, most Mainers own at least one gun. Especially since he hunts, there’s no way he wouldn’t at least own a rifle.
“We’re here now. We’re checking out the situation, going to figure out the best way to proceed. There’s a BMW here.”
“I’m sending backup. Be careful.”
It’ll take them about fifteen minutes to get here, but that’s time that Vera might not have. I signal to Zane that we should move in. With our weapons in hand, we creep toward the cabin. My heart feels like it’s beating in my throat as I press my back into the rough wood wall. Though I try to listen for any signs of life inside, all I can hear is the echo of my own pulse. We skirt along the side, and I try peeking in one window, but the plaid blanket is pulled to the edge. I try the other, and through a slit in the second window covering, I see bunks pressed against wood-paneled walls, a wood stove, a small dining table.
In the right corner, a body is huddled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading around it. From here, I can’t get a read on who the body might be. Vera? Aidan? A camper in the wrong place at the wrong time? From the sweep of the outside, it’s clear that there’s only one door, and that’s on the other side.
I motion to Zane that we’re moving in. We need to get to that door. I need to be sure he doesn’t slip out. As we shift along the wall, I finally hear something inside, the muffled voice of a woman. My heart leaps. We approach the front door, and the voice becomes clearer.
“Please let us go. We’ll leave. You’ll never have to see me again,” Vera says, her voice low, pleading.
My stomach twists as I listen to it. I’ve got no love for Vera as a person. She didn’t care about a single one of the victims. But she doesn’t deserve this. And the baby she’s carrying doesn’t deserve any of the fallout.
Heavy footfalls resound inside the cabin, and I guess that Aidan is pacing. Dirt and rocks skitter behind us, around the cabin. Our backup has finally arrived. I turn to Zane. “Go signal for them to be quiet and surround the cabin.”
We’ve got to play this carefully. If Aidan realizes we’ve surrounded the cabin, he may snap and kill Vera, then himself. Or he may come out guns blazing, trying to kill any or all of us. The best way to do this would be to try to lure him out. But I doubt that it’s possible. I want him alive, need him alive. There are things only he has answers to, his crimes. There may be many more that we don’t know about.
Sergeant Pelletier glances around the corner, and I lock eyes with him. While several other officers approach him, I hang back, moving away from the structure so we can talk without being overheard. He lifts his hand up, signaling for the other officers to hold their positions.
“What’s going on in there?”
“Vera is alive and talking. He’s in there moving around. From that window.” I motion toward the one on the left. “It looked like there was someone inside, injured, bleeding. I can’t tell if they’re still alive or not.”
“Any idea who it is?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I can’t tell if it’s someone who was staying here or someone connected to this. There’s no easy way to see them.”
“What are you thinking?” he asks as his eyes move between me and the cabin.
“We need to throw in a smoke grenade and rush the place before he can hurt himself or Vera.”
“How are we going to do that?” he asks.
I eye the cabin. We should be able to throw smoke grenades in each window. With four at once, the smoke will come at Aidan from all sides. That should be enough to distract him so that we can get inside. If he’s unable to tell where anyone is, there’s less of a chance that he can hurt them. We could use flash-bang grenades for this, but they can injure those inside a small building like the cabin, and I don’t want Vera hurt. I break down my plan for Sergeant Pelletier. We’re going to need everyone who goes in to have a mask. To be sure that someone can take Aidan down, we need to bust in the door right as the grenades are thrown in; otherwise, we’ll have as hard of a time seeing in there as he will.
“Do we have masks for everyone?” I ask.
“I’ve got three in my car, but I think that’s all that we’ll have on scene,” he says as he glances toward his patrol car.
“Are the other officers vested up?” I ask. We need to get in there sooner rather than later. Every minute that he’s inside with Vera is another minute that we risk her life.
“I’ll have Clint, Blake, and Zane get ready.”
“You think I’m not going in there too?” I say, raising a brow. He said he only had three masks. I’m not letting them go in there without me.
“Look, they’re built for this type of stuff. Aidan is a big guy. You’re petite. It’s safer this way.”
I grit my teeth. “My size doesn’t make me any less of a police officer. I went through the same training they did. I’ve taken down perps that outweighed me by at least one hundred and fifty pounds. I am going in there whether you like it or not. So pick the two other officers that you’re sending in with me,” I say, my words sharp as knives. I’m not sitting this one out. They called me in to hunt this guy, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I will not stay on the sidelines while they finish this up for me.
“I’ll have Clint and Zane get ready, then,” he says, though the look he gives me tells me he’s none too happy about it.
I nod to him and follow to get my mask. I know that it won’t help too much with the visibility, but it will keep me from choking on the smoke or tearing up from it. Sergeant Pelletier waves Zane and Clint over, and we gather around the trunk of his car. While the guys put on their vests, I secure my mask and get the grenades ready. I speak to Blake and two of the other officers nearby, explaining that we’ll do a countdown over the radios to signal when the windows should be broken.
“I don’t like this,” Sergeant Pelletier says once we start taking our positions.
“I’ve got my vest on,” I say. “So does everyone else. We’re as ready as we’re going to be. We can get them both out of there alive; I know it.”
For a long moment he’s silent, and the only sound is the wind creaking through the trees. “It’s time. Let’s do it. But for the love of God, be careful.”
“I will,” I say.
I close the distance between me and the cabin just as sleet begins to fall. Tick, tick, tick against the windows, the walls, the officers surrounding the cabin. I clench my fists to keep my hands from shaking, but whether it’s adrenaline or fear—or both—I’m not sure. I take my service pistol into my hand, clicking the safety off. The cabin has a fireplace, but there’s no hint that they’ve lit it. No smoke spirals from the chimney. There’s no crackling of logs inside.
Though it’s freezing out, sweat prickles along my spine. My nerves are so on edge that my whole body feels tightly wound, like a spring. I glance to Zane and Clint, and they both walk over to flank me. Sergeant Pelletier works with the other officers, getting them all in position with their smoke grenades. A cold wind whips around us, making the trees crackle. Inside the cabin, footsteps echo against the floorboards. I hope that he isn’t moving to the window.
I gesture to Sergeant Pelletier that we need to get moving. He nods to me, then disappears around the cabin. My pulse echoes in my ears as I wait for the signal. I reach forward, my hand resting on the door, though I don’t dare to touch the knob yet. All around me, the radios crackle to life, signaling that it’s time to move as they start the countdown. I grab the handle, shoving my shoulder against the door as glass shatters. The canisters hiss as they fly through the air and then thud on the wooden floors.
Something falls over, likely a chair, inside the cabin as I push inside. Through the dark smoke just beginning to sputter from the canisters, I catch a glimpse of Aidan standing near a table in the center of the room. Vera huddles in the far corner, thankfully out of his reach. I burst inside, Zane and Clint trailing me. Aidan whips his head around as the room begins to flood with smoke
. He looks from me to his wife. I raise my gun, holding it even with his chest as I step closer. Only ten feet separate us. At this distance, I know I won’t miss if I fire. But I don’t want to kill him. We need to take him in alive.
He smirks at me as Clint comes into view on my left, his gun raised, and Zane appears on my right in a similar position. Zane moves farther to the side, placing himself between Vera and Aidan.
“Vera, are you hurt?” I ask without turning to look at her.
“No, I’m fine,” she says, her voice trembling.
“Who’s that by the window?” I ask.
“Ian. I was staying at his house after Sergeant Pelletier mentioned that I should stay somewhere else for a few days.”
“You cheating bitch,” Aidan spits.
“That’s enough,” I say to Aidan, nearly growling the words. Smoke filters up from the floors around us. I want to take Aidan in, but we need to get Vera out of here first. “Vera, get out of the cabin.”
Behind Aidan on the table, there’s a pistol. He’s at least three feet from it, and I know that we could take him down before he grabbed it. But I can’t risk Vera getting caught in the crossfire. The light steps behind me signal her progress. With every footfall, more and more smoke hisses around us. Aidan lets out a low cough and takes a step backward.
“Don’t move, Aidan. We will shoot you,” I warn. The mask is secured well to my face, but the smoke filling up the cabin is making his form a vague shape within the mist.
As Vera’s footsteps inch closer to the door, I move toward Aidan. Adrenaline burns in my veins, begging me to take him down, to get him in custody.
“She’s clear,” someone yells outside. Aidan dives backward, taking his pistol in his hand. I hold mine steady, ready to fire.
“Drop it, Aidan,” Zane and I say at the same time.
Aidan swings his pistol around, aiming it at me, and I know he’s going to fire. Time seems to slow, stretching into infinity as his finger curls into position and he aims at me. I squeeze the trigger, firing off a shot toward his right arm. He shoots, the sound of the discharge cracking so loudly through the air that my ears ring. Pain cuts through my left shoulder, searing, as the bullet tears my flesh. I grit my teeth against the agony. But I can’t stop. I won’t. I close the distance between us and slam my body into his, knocking him off his feet. The gun clatters to the floor as he falls.
He strikes the ground so hard the impact reverberates through me, making my bullet wound ache. Aidan grunts at the impact, but the fight hasn’t gone out of him yet. Zane and Clint barrel forward, their footsteps echoing on the floor. Aidan’s fist flies forward, hitting me in the jaw. My mouth floods with the coppery tang of blood. I suck in a sharp breath. We’re so close. We just need to get him cuffed. Wood groans and splinters beneath us as we struggle. Aidan knocks me to the side. I wheeze as all the air is forced from my lungs, and my vision dims when my head cracks against the floor. I roll away, and Clint slams his knee into Aidan’s spine. Zane grabs both of Aidan’s arms, yanking them back to cuff him.
Bodies swarm through the door—Sergeant Pelletier, Blake, and a mass of others I’m too dazed to recognize. Smoke clouds around me, and my head swims, making it difficult to focus on any one person in front of me. With every furious beat of my heart, my bullet wound aches and pulses. A body crouches next to me, and through the haze I’m able to make out Sergeant Pelletier. I hand my pistol over to him, and the edges of my vision start to fizzle from the rush of adrenaline.
“We need to get several buses up here,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or to some of the other officers. Sirens wail outside, making me wonder if he already called someone.
I glance toward Aidan, who’s still unmoving on the floor, his hands secured behind him. But I pray that he’s not dead. There are still too many unanswered questions. And that bastard doesn’t deserve the release of death. I want him to rot in prison.
They force me into a patrol car with Zane, who rushes me off to the hospital, while a bus speeds up the slope to get the others. As the towering pine trees flicker past on either side of the car, they rise so high they blot out the sky. I let my eyes drift closed.
CHAPTER 21
My heart pounds as I bolt awake. For a long moment, my eyes scan the too-white walls, the equipment at my side, and it all clicks into place. The hospital, the shooting, Aidan. The few days here come rushing back to me all at once. Nurse Jordan shifts beside me, a clipboard in her hand as she takes my vitals.
“Well, your blood pressure and pulse are still normal. You need a few more days of rest, though,” she says as she looks over my chart.
“I’m checking myself out,” I say, then swing my legs off the bed. The room tilts, a sharp pain cutting through my shoulder. I grit my teeth against the pain and breathe steadily for a few moments before trying again. Since I’m stable, she won’t be able to argue.
“You ripped all your stitches out last night. I need you to stay at least one more day. I want to be sure you don’t end up with an infection.” Her eyes are wide as I pull on a pair of pants Noah brought me and then a dark shirt. If my wounds start bleeding again, at least the shirt will camouflage it.
“I have to go. Thank you for your help,” I say as I shove my feet into my shoes. My back aches with every movement. My body and the wounds are sore from last night.
“Where’s Aidan?” I ask her.
She glances toward the door, then leans closer to me. “He’s being held at the back of the hospital, with an armed guard.” She sighs and looks me over. “If you’re going to go, please at least promise that you’ll come back tomorrow so I can check the wounds and make sure they’re okay.”
“I will if I can.”
I grab my phone and call Sergeant Pelletier. It rings several times before he picks up. “How far did you guys get with McConnel?” I ask before he can even say hello.
“He’s said a few general things, only about him kidnapping Mrs. McConnel and killing Dr. Munroe. He won’t speak to anything else.”
“I’m going to see what I can get out of him,” I say as I pace the small hospital room.
“Claire, you really need to—”
“The hell I do. We need to get this guy nailed. I’ll call you back when I’ve got something,” I say, anger making my voice rise in volume.
“Claire, please—” he tries again, but I end the call. Then I phone Noah. He’s got some files I want for my questioning with McConnel.
“Hey, I was just about to come see you,” he says as soon as he answers the call. His voice brings a smile to my lips.
“Good, I’m ready to get out of here.” I walk slowly down the hall toward the front door. “But there’s something I have to do first. Can you bring your files? I need some of the information about the victims. They’re holding Aidan here. I’m going to get a confession out of him.”
“And there’s no way I can talk you out of trying to do that while you’re still recovering . . . ,” he says, his words almost a question.
“Nope. Just bring me the files. I need to do this. How soon can you be here?” I ask, feeling antsy knowing that I’m in the same building as Aidan.
“Five minutes,” he says.
I finish up the call with Noah and wait out front for him. The cool morning air blows against my face, and it feels amazing to be outside again. Only a few days in the hospital had me feeling completely claustrophobic. Footsteps click against the cement behind me. I turn and find the doors opening to let Vera out. She’s got on a black pencil skirt and a flowy gray blouse the same color as her heels. She offers me a thin smile, but I just nod instead of returning it.
“Morning,” she says as she squints against the sunlight. “I thought you were supposed to be here for a few more days.”
“I was, but I have some things to attend to,” I say simply, because I don’t owe her more of an explanation than that.
She crosses her arms. “For what it’s worth, thank you.” Her wor
ds are stiff, as if she’s not used to thanking people.
I force myself to swallow all the unkind words I have for this woman. She isn’t thanking me because she cares about the patients. All she cares about is that I saved her own neck. But then I realize what she lost in all this, her husband and Dr. Munroe, so I nod to her. She strides back into the bowels of the hospital, disappearing. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must be to work here with the man who tried to kill you being held in the back of the hospital.
Noah pulls up in my car in front of the hospital, slides out, and slings a messenger bag over his shoulder. I approach the car as he flips the bag open and hands me a folder. I glance at it, seeing some of the basics about the victims from Tennessee inside. This is exactly what I need.
“I’ve got to question him. Can you hang out here until I’m done?” I ask.
He nods. “I’ll be waiting. Good luck.”
I offer Noah a quick kiss before flinching at a pain in my shoulder, then walk back inside the hospital. Though I know he’s probably itching to follow me and make sure I’m okay, right now, I’m glad he’s keeping his distance. I need to get myself into interrogation mode, and I can’t do that with him hanging around. There are two completely separate sides of myself, one that I show the people in law enforcement, and one that I am when I take off the badge.
I weave through the hospital, past open rooms and waiting rooms that are nearly empty. The hospital is eerily quiet as I walk through the halls. Aidan’s in the back corner of the medical center, chained to a bed in a guarded room. I find Zane standing outside it, his arms crossed. He glances up at me as I approach, an eyebrow lifted.
“Why aren’t you in your room?”
“I’ve come to interrogate my suspect,” I say, pointing toward the folder in my hand.
He shakes his head, as if he expected this or at least was warned about it. “The sergeant told me if you wanted to get in the room, I’ve got to go in too.”
“That’s fine.”