Brown lifted the revolver. Studied it. “That’s unfortunate. I set this up originally to look like a random killing. You would have been just another unlucky sap taken out by an unknown assailant. Then the killings would have just stopped. Eventually, the case would be filed away. Unsolved.”
“That’s not going to happen now.”
“I know.” His voice trailed off into the dark. “Doesn’t really matter though. I have nothing to live for. My boys are both gone. I’ll let your friends take me out too, and then I’ll be with my kids again. But—” Brown brought the revolver up. “Not before I have the pleasure of watching you die.”
Thirty-Two
Zoe’s heart pounded on the inside of her sternum. She watched the interaction between Pete and Gabe, trying to piece it together. But the why didn’t concern her as much as the what. What was Gabe going to do? What kind of plan—if any—did Pete have? And what was going on with his chest pains?
The chill of the dropping temperatures combined with her sodden clothes was making her loopy. Her bound hands and feet had lost all feeling.
Neither Pete nor Gabe appeared to notice when she shifted to one hip and drew her knees in. She wiggled around until her right shoulder supported her against the wall. A little more and she wrapped numb fingers around the Glock at her side.
In the moment when Gabe had fired at her and she dove to the floor, showered in splinters from the bullet piercing the wall above her, Pete had crashed through the door and sprawled on the floor with a hard thud.
Something heavy and cold had struck her in the dark. She’d touched it, realized what it was, and had scooped it close to her. Gabe had been too busy relighting the lamp and searching Pete to bother looking for the gun. Especially after he located Pete’s ankle holster and revolver.
Gabe’s voice rose in a crescendo. He lifted the revolver, its muzzle aimed at Pete.
It was now or never.
She rolled onto knees she could barely feel and brought the Glock up. “Drop the gun. Now.”
Gabe turned his head to look at her with crazed eyes. But the revolver didn’t budge.
Neither did the Glock, in spite of her bound wrists forcing her to clutch it with something other than the proper grip she’d learned at Citizen’s Police Academy. Zoe fought a smirk. She could do this.
To save Pete, she could definitely do this. Her voice had been strong and firm.
In one move—smooth and fast as a big cat—Gabe stepped toward Pete and dropped behind him. The rifle hit the floor. But Gabe had Pete around the neck and had the handgun jammed into Pete’s jaw. Same as he’d shoved the rifle muzzle into hers back on Ridge Road.
“You put the gun down,” Gabe said. “Or so help me, I’ll blow his brains out right here and now.”
Zoe met Pete’s gaze. What do I do now?
Pete’s eyes didn’t waver. “Shoot him.”
“What?” The mortified question popped straight from her thoughts and out her mouth.
“Shoot him.”
Gabe’s hand trembled. He rammed the gun into Pete’s jaw harder, and he winced.
Shoot him, he’d said. Had he gone mad? Gabe was using Pete as a human shield. Zoe could see maybe half of Gabe’s face. None of his body. A target that small…she’d stand a much better chance of hitting the wrong man.
“Zoe. Shoot him.” Pete clawed at his chest. Maybe he was having a heart attack.
Maybe he figured he was dead either way and wanted her to—
No. The gun felt heavy and awkward with her wrists strapped together. She couldn’t take the chance.
“Zoe,” Pete said again, his voice dropping lower in timbre. “Zoe…Oo-rah.”
That night…not even a week ago…the same shot…but in a simulator. She’d made it then. But—
She caught a glimpse of something shiny against Pete’s chest. And she squeezed the trigger.
The rain had finally stopped, but dawn was still a couple of hours away. Zoe sat in the passenger side of Baronick’s black unmarked car, wrapped in two blankets, with the heater blasting on high. And she was still cold.
The driver’s door swung open, and Pete slid behind the wheel. He reached across the center console to put an arm around her and pulled her toward him, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How are you doing?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again.”
“A hot bath and a bowl of soup will help.”
She thought for a moment about inviting him to join her in the hot bath, but decided now was not the time. “Is Gabe…?”
“He’s alive. Lost a lot of blood, but he’ll probably make it.” Pete nodded toward the ambulance backed close to the schoolhouse door. “They’re about ready to transport him.”
Zoe knew Tony and his partner would take good care of the man who had killed or tried to kill several of their own. “Any word on Earl?”
“Still in surgery.” Pete gave her a squeeze. “He’s tough. And leaving him your phone no doubt saved his life.”
Zoe leaned into Pete’s shoulder, not caring about the console digging into her side. “I wish I knew what you had planned in there. I mean, what if I’d really taken the shot the way I did at Citizen’s Academy? I’d have killed you.”
Pete laughed softly. “I trusted you to know the difference between real and simulated. And I trusted you didn’t really want to risk putting a bullet into me.”
If only he knew how befuddled she’d been thanks to the cold, he might not have been so trusting.
“The shot you took over our heads was just the distraction I needed.” Pete patted his chest.
Zoe hadn’t been able to tell earlier that the shirt he had on was not his usual uniform blouse. Now she knew it was borrowed from county’s TAC team—courtesy of Wayne—and contained several hidden pockets, which held a knife and another small pistol. Pete’s feigned chest pains allowed him to work open the Velcro closures without Gabe hearing the rip. When Zoe fired high—way high—Pete pulled the knife and buried it into the killer’s upper right chest.
A rap on the driver’s window drew their attention. Pete released Zoe and powered down the window. Wayne leaned inside. “Break it up, you two. You’re fogging up my windows.” He winked at her.
“Get lost,” Pete told him, only a hint of humor in his voice.
Wayne ignored him. “How are you feeling?” he asked Zoe.
“Cold.”
“DeLuca said to tell you the other ambulance is on the way, and you’re both to go with them to the hospital.”
Pete and Zoe rebelled in unison.
Wayne held up a hand, silencing them. “I’m only passing the information along. But Pete lost consciousness and needs to be checked for a concussion—”
“I’m fine,” Pete said.
Paramedic mode kicked in, and Zoe looked at Pete. “Wayne’s right.” She turned to the detective. “But I don’t need to go to the hospital. They’ll wrap me in heated blankets, draw a bunch of blood to find out I’m still alive, and then they’ll send me home with a big ER bill.”
Pete’s suggested soup and hot bath sounded more appealing as well as more effective.
He closed his fingers over her hand. “Tell you what. I’ll go if you go.”
She considered arguing, but decided she’d rather ride in the ambulance with Pete, both of them relatively unscathed, than face being escorted back to Rose’s house by Wayne or one of the other officers. “Okay.”
“Good. That’s settled,” Wayne said. He looked at Pete. “And for the record, if you were one of my men, I’d have suspended you. What the hell was that busting-down-the-door thing you pulled?”
Pete shrugged. “It’s a good thing I’m not one of your men. I did what I had to do.” He gently nudged Zoe. “And I’d do it again. No regrets.”
The smile he gave her warmed her more
than the blankets or the car’s heater.
He turned back to Wayne. “Thanks, by the way, for the use of County’s gadgets. I need to talk the township supervisors into buying me one of those night vision scopes.” Pete touched his chest. “Maybe a couple of these shirts with the secret pockets too.”
Wayne stuck his hand in front of Pete palm up and wiggled his fingers. “Speaking of…Hand over the button cam.”
Pete looked down and tugged the front of his shirt. “Doesn’t work anyhow.”
“It works just fine.”
“You mean you knew what was going on in there and didn’t send in backup?”
Wayne grinned. “You had it all under control. We were in place and ready to breach the whole time.”
Pete clenched a fist. Wayne didn’t appear eager to stick around and find out exactly how pissed Pete really was, so he snatched the button cam and ducked away.
Once Pete had powered the window back up, he looped his arm over Zoe’s shoulders again. She gazed through the windshield as Tony wheeled the yellow Stryker gurney through the shattered schoolhouse door and into the back of Medic One. From where she sat, she couldn’t see her truck, which she assumed was still parked next to the building. She unwrapped the blankets enough to look at the front of her uniform shirt and the palms of her hands, still covered in a mix of Bud Kramer’s and Earl’s dried blood. “I may take your advice and sell my truck.”
Pete eyed the red smears for a moment before bundling her back up. “Good idea. After we release it from evidence.”
“And after I get it detailed. And the driver’s door replaced.”
“Yeah.” He straightened and reached for his seat belt. “Buckle up.”
“But—the ambulance. We’re supposed to—”
“We will. I’ll drive us to the Med Express in the morning.”
“What if—you know—Wayne or somebody needs to question us?”
“He knows where I live.” Pete dropped the gearshift into drive. “And you’ll be in police custody.”
Blessed warmth made its way to her cheeks. “Police custody?”
He shot her a crooked grin. “Yeah. In my bathtub.”
Thirty-Three
Nearly a week had passed since that bitter rainy night at the schoolhouse. Zoe sat astride Windstar, her face upturned to the glorious autumn sun.
“Beautiful day for a ride.” Pete patted her leg.
She looked down at him standing next to her. “You should come along.”
He laughed. “Me? Ride a horse? I don’t think so.”
“I could give you lessons.”
“Definitely not. If I’m going to make an ass of myself, it’s not going to be in front of my girl.”
My girl. She liked the sound of that.
Behind her, a joyous whoop followed by cackling laughter drew her attention. She turned in the saddle to see Patsy aboard Jazzel, who was galloping and kicking up her heels, while a beaming Allison loped along behind on a lazy bay borrowed from one of the boarders.
Everyone was enjoying the gorgeous weather.
Zoe faced forward once again and gazed down the slope at the newly constructed modular home on the site where the Krolls’ farmhouse once stood. Three men worked on the finishing touches to a large deck from which the older couple would be able to look out over Route 15 and the rest of the valley.
“You miss living here,” Pete said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Move in with me.”
She met his earnest icy blues and realized this time he wasn’t joking. Her heart lurched in her chest. “Rose and I have been best friends almost all my life, and she couldn’t put up with me for more than a week.” Stupid dishwasher. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome with you too.”
“You won’t.”
She wasn’t so sure. “I’m not the easiest person to live with.”
“Neither am I. We’ll make it work.”
She looked at the distant hillside dotted with Angus cattle. The idea of sharing Pete’s life—his house, his bed—appealed to her. In theory. But in reality? “I’m not ready.”
He lowered his face. “But you’re moving out of Rose’s.”
“I have to if we’re going to keep on being best friends. We had a long heart-to-heart the other night. It wasn’t just the kids who were affected by everything that happened last winter. Rose is having problems finding a new normal too. The dishwasher and my cats made an easy target. The truth is, she’s just not ready to share her space with anyone else right now. Including me.”
“Where will you stay?”
“With Earl and Olivia and their kids. For a while. He’s being released from the hospital tomorrow. I can help take care of him while she’s at work. And they all love animals. An occasional fur ball won’t upset anyone.”
“But you can’t stay there forever.”
“No.” Zoe felt Pete’s gaze on her and met it. “Maybe by the time I’ve worn out my welcome there too, I might be ready for…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“For me?”
She smiled.
“Hey!” Patsy galloped up beside them. Jazzel was feeling full of herself, throwing her head and jogging in place as Patsy attempted to rein her in. “You ready to ride or are you gonna just sit on that fat old gelding all afternoon?”
“I’m ready.”
Allison rode up at an easy lope, as relaxed as Zoe had ever seen her.
“You sure I can’t entice you to come along?” Zoe asked Pete.
“Positive.” He patted Windstar’s neck. “Have fun. And whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting for you.”
She laid the rein alongside the gelding’s neck and touched a heel to his girth. She knew Pete didn’t just mean this afternoon.
And she had a feeling she might be ready sooner than he realized.
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Annette Dashofy has spent her entire life in rural Pennsylvania surrounded by cattle and horses. When she wasn’t roaming the family’s farm or playing in the barn, she could be found reading or writing. After high school, she spent five years as an EMT on the local ambulance service, dealing with everything from drunks passing out on the sidewalk to mangled bodies in car accidents. These days, she, her husband, and their spoiled cat, Kensi, live on property that was once part of her grandfather’s dairy.
Her Agatha-nominated Zoe Chambers mystery series includes Circle of Influence, Lost Legacy, Bridges Burned and With a Vengeance.
The Zoe Chambers Mystery Series
By Annette Dashofy
Read all about them at www.henerypress.com
CIRCLE OF INFLUENCE (#1)
LOST LEGACY (#2)
BRIDGES BURNED (#3)
WITH A VENGEANCE (#4)
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Henery Press Mystery Books
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With a Vengeance Page 28
