Winter's Curse

by Mary Stone

  Another car pulled up beside the van and Winter climbed in, leaving O’Connelly in the care of the bomb squad and the Erie PD.

  “Nice work, Black,” Sun said. “Good job not fucking it up.”

  “Thanks. Nice to see you again, too, Ming. Noah?”

  He was driving and barely spared her a glance in the rearview. His face was drawn in a scowl that promised retribution and lectures later, but Winter was too glad to be alive to care. She reached over the seat and squeezed his shoulder. The muscles beneath her hand were like rock.

  “Drive carefully,” she advised. “The roads are shit right now.”

  He drove carefully, but Winter could still feel his barely contained fury. Their last stop was only four miles away, but the roads were shit and time was of the essence. Houses flew by in a blur, and the car engine roared as they flew down State Street, heading for the outskirts of Erie.

  They had safeguards in place, but only a few.

  Heidi would be on to them soon.

  33

  “Come on, come on,” Heidi muttered in impatience. Three minutes ticked by, and then four. Five. What the hell was taking them so long?

  She glanced at the views of the property, the driveway that led down to the road. Empty. No tire tracks, no police, not even a stray deer.

  Back to the NBG view. The car the agent had driven still hadn’t appeared from the parking lot. Her fingers itched to set off the detonator, but she wanted to see it happen. Agent Black and Ryan were moving slower than frozen molasses.

  She let out a breath as the car came into view. It backed out of the parking spot, and slowly, aggravatingly slowly, drove forward, toward the adjoining McDonald’s.

  “Trying to put off the inevitable,” she muttered. “It won’t work.”

  She switched to the security cameras there and saw the nose of the car come into view first. The camera quality was grainier, not as clear, but she could make out two figures inside. The passenger was obviously Ryan. His silhouette was bulkier. Winter was in the driver’s seat.

  Ryan’s body cam was still obscured by snow. She wished she had the headset capabilities still, so she could tell him to wipe it off.

  There was no way they could get out of this, so she shouldn’t be worrying about it.

  Still. Something was bothering her.

  She watched the McDonald’s cam as they pulled into a parking spot. Then, as the second set of instructions ordered, the two of them got out of the car. Agent Black stayed where she was, her dark hair whipping around her face in the snowy wind. Ryan, stoop shouldered and defeated, got out of the car. He grabbed the bag from the back seat and lifted it.

  She frowned at his body cam footage. It would seem like the snow would have been dislodged or melted by now. It was still blurry, though. She couldn’t see a thing from his vantage point, which was disappointing.

  She’d hoped for a front and center view of the explosion. Literally.

  He carried the bag, walking with exaggerated care on the slippery blacktop, over to the spot she’d designated. Right next to the glowing arrow that pointed the way to the golden-arched drive-through.

  Heidi squinted at the screen and cursed the weather.

  She’d been hoping for a minivan full of kids nearby. Maybe a basketball team on a bus, parking next to Ryan. Going to cram their faces full of greasy food and getting blasted with broken glass and nails instead.

  Oh, well. She could control a lot of things—and had—but the weather wasn’t one of them.

  “Move closer, Agent Black,” Heidi murmured. “Just a little closer.”

  As if she’d heard Heidi’s words, Heidi watched the FBI agent pull a coat out of the back seat of the car. She walked over to Ryan, who was hunched in fear and misery on the ground and put the coat over his head.

  “So sweet. Protect him from the snow.”

  She picked up the remote from the sofa beside her, eyes lit with glee.

  “Say goodbye, my friends.”

  The door to Heidi’s cabin flew open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. It let in a gust of frigid air, a thick swirl of snowflakes, and a flash-bang grenade.

  A concussive blast rent the air, along with a blinding, disorienting light. The officers in SWAT gear that stormed in after it had to dodge pieces of falling drywall from the ceiling.

  “Police! Put your hands in the air!”

  At least that was what she thought she saw and heard. Her ears were ringing, heartbeat thudding in her head. She could barely see, think, or hear, but she fought through it. With all the strength she could muster, Heidi lifted the remote for them to see.

  “Come any closer, and I’ll blow up your agent!” she screamed. At least that was what she thought she’d said. Her voice sounded muffled and tinny in her own ears.

  Her vision was starting to come back, save for the dots still blurring everything she looked at. She blinked rapidly, trying to force them to clear.

  She pushed the button, laughing, but none of the officers moved. Just stood there with guns pointed at her head.

  She laughed louder, and it sounded maniacal to her own ears, and pushed the button again. “You killed them. You killed an agent. Your fault. Your fault.” She barely understood what she was saying. Barely felt her thumb hitting the button over and over. Barely heard the click click click.

  Why weren’t they reacting?

  The crowd of officers parted, allowing three more people through the narrow doorway. Heidi blinked again. It was Agent Black and Agent Ming, both clad in bulletproof vests, followed by their big, dumb partner.

  Agent Black locked eyes with Heidi and smiled.

  Heidi smiled back at them. The look on her face sent an instinctive chill through Sun. It was a victorious grin. Not the expression you wanted to see on the face of a suspect you were about to apprehend.

  Still smiling, Heidi lifted one finger and pressed a second button on the detonator.

  The house seemed to jump on its foundation. A hole blasted through the floor in the northwest corner of the living room, throwing shards of wood and metal everywhere. Sun felt something hit her cheek, leaving a burning sting behind. Instantly, there was chaos.

  “Everybody back!” Noah bellowed as the room rapidly filled with smoke.

  Heidi was still motionless where she stood. There was a shard of metal at least three inches long sticking out of her left arm. She didn’t appear to have noticed it at all.

  She was too busy being smug about the fact that she’d turned the flash-bang concept back on them with a distraction of her own.

  One officer, blood dripping from the side of his face, just past where the goggles he’d worn would have covered, jostled Sun hard on his way out the door. Nearby, a female officer was laid out on the cream-colored carpeting, moaning quietly. Noah crouched beside her, shielding her with his body.

  Something in the basement of the house fell with an echoing clang. Her ears rang from the noise.

  In the confusion, Sun almost missed Winter darting forward into the thickening smoke.

  Heidi was no longer in the room. Winter had disappeared too.

  Sun darted after them, into the haze.

  34

  Winter drew her service weapon. She squinted her eyes against the smoky sting and tried to hold her breath. The smoke was choking. Heidi must’ve added something to it to create such a dense screen so quickly.

  So far, she hadn’t missed a trick. They thought they’d caught up to her, but she was still a half-step ahead.

  “Heidi, stop!” she yelled, her hands in front of her. She’d tried to memorize the layout of the room, but the rest of the house was a mystery. Bumping into a wall was a distinct possibility.

  Ahead of her, she caught sight of a red glow through the fog of smoke.

  She moved forward, a little more confident.

  A shot rang out, and she was yanked backward simultaneously by the back of her vest.

  “What the hell are you trying to do, cowboy?” S
un hissed angrily. “Get your head blown off?” The words sounded muffled. Winter could hardly hear her, but the look on her face made the tone clear.

  Sun nodded her head toward the plaster wall to one side of them. A two-inch hole marred the smooth surface.

  Winter acknowledged the save with a short nod. “She’s moved to the back of the house. She’s likely got an escape planned.”

  They crept forward, cautious inches at a time.

  “Couldn’t she be out already?” Sun asked in a low voice. “It’s not like she’d waste time here. She’s probably got a vehicle and a go-bag outside.”

  “No,” Winter replied. She could still see a glow ahead of them and hoped she wasn’t leading them both into a trap. “She’s back here.”

  They passed an open door. Sun swept the room, but it was empty.

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know. Keep your head low.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  They passed a bathroom on the other side of the hall. It was getting harder to see, as smoke from the hole in the living room floor filled up the rest of the house.

  The hallway opened up into a kitchen area. Before they could step out, two shots rang out, along with a high-pitched giggle. Winter returned fire, aiming for the reddish-colored light that she assumed was coming from Heidi’s gun. She pulled Sun down to the floor with her.

  “Enough, Heidi,” Sun yelled. “It’s over.”

  “Not yet,” Heidi sang out in reply.

  In the relative cover of the hallway, Sun came up into a crouch, training her weapon in the direction the voice had come from.

  Another shot, this one taking out a chunk of plaster in the ceiling.

  Sun fired back and was rewarded with a grunt as she found her target.

  There were four more shots in rapid succession.

  “You got her somewhere. She’s firing wild,” Winter told Sun through gritted teeth as plaster rained down on them.

  There was the sound of a door opening, and cold light flooded the kitchen.

  “Wait,” Winter cautioned as Sun started forward. “They’ll have the back of the house covered. She’s not stupid. She knows that.”

  Sure enough, there was one more shot in their direction, and the red light went on the move.

  Winter aimed, drew a breath to steady her hands, and fired.

  This time, the red light went down with a shriek.

  Heidi was on her back, behind the kitchen island she’d been using for cover. One of their shots had caught her in the right side.

  “Last bullet,” Heidi told them, and coughed wetly, spraying blood. She smiled up at them triumphantly. Her teeth were stained dark red. Her pale blue eyes glittered madly. “I saved it, just in case.” She bent her arm and put her Ruger to her temple. “How long do you think it will take them to make a movie about me?”

  Before Winter could respond, Heidi pulled the trigger.

  Noah was waiting for them, arms folded, when they exited the back of the house. Sun and Winter, arms slung across each other’s shoulders like veterans of their own little war.

  He looked them both over. Sun had a cut, high on her cheekbone, but neither had taken any hits. He, though, felt like thirty years had been shaved off his life, hearing the gunshots ringing out inside that smoky house.

  “You two look satisfied.”

  “Game over,” Sun said simply.

  Winter nodded, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Heidi forfeited.”

  “Next time teams are picked, I don’t want to be on either one of yours,” Noah shot back. “You two are fucking crazy.”

  He turned on his heel and headed for the car, ignoring the snow that was finding its way into his shoes. Fury vibrated in every line of his body. He wanted to punch something. Break something. So when he felt a hand on his arm and swung around fiercely, it was no surprise that Winter stumbled back at the snarl on his face.

  “Leave me alone.” He enunciated every word in a low growl, so she’d be sure not to misunderstand him.

  Part of her hair had come loose from the severe bun she’d tucked it back in, and long black strands powdered with plaster dust curved along her cheek. Fat snowflakes still fell, landing on the dusty shoulders of her jacket. Her blue eyes were almost laser-bright with the aftereffects of adrenaline.

  He didn’t think it through. Just grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in, fitting his mouth to hers in a bruising, punishing kiss.

  Her lips were cold at first but heated fast. She was still for just a moment in his arms in hesitation. Not resisting, but not participating. Then, he jumped back with a yelp when she bit his bottom lip, hard.

  He let her go and stumbled back.

  “What the fuck was that for, Dalton?” Her pale face was flushed, and she was breathing heavily. Her lips were dark red.

  He had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing her again.

  “The fuck if I know,” he spat back. “You drive me crazy.”

  “Well, don’t do that again.” She watched him, wary, like he was going to jump her. Hell, maybe she wasn’t wrong.

  “Don’t go flinging yourself in front of bullets anymore.”

  “Don’t be so overprotective.”

  “Don’t get into cars with strange men who have bombs strapped to them, just because a serial killer tells you to.”

  “Do you have plans for Christmas?”

  He hesitated for only a moment, his eyes still narrowed. “No.”

  Hers were still narrowed too. “I just remembered. Gramma wanted me to invite you. Grampa is missing his poker buddy.”

  Noah stared her down. He’d never understand her.

  “Will there be meatloaf?”

  “Maybe.”

  She hauled off then and swung on him, punching him in the arm. He narrowed his eyes and resisted the urge to rub the spot where she’d hit. It hurt.

  “What was that for?”

  “You assaulted me. I assaulted you. Just evening things out. Friends again?”

  He stared at her for a long moment.

  “Sure. Friends.”

  He watched her walk away. Sun, nearby, snorted. He flushed. He’d forgotten she was there.

  “Sorry you had to witness that,” he told her.

  “That’s okay. Just so you know, though, I flung myself in front of a bullet.”

  “Yeah?” He was only half paying attention.

  “And would have gotten in the car with O’Connelly if Heidi told me to.”

  That caught his attention. He truly looked at her this time and scowled. “That’d be dumb.”

  Her face split in a brilliant grin. “You want to punish me?”

  He finally got it. “You’re trying to make me uncomfortable on purpose. That’s mean.”

  “I know. Sorry.” The sparkle in her dark eyes negated the apology. “Oh, and Dalton?” She gestured toward her mouth. “Your bottom lip is bleeding.”

  35

  I flipped through the television stations, restless, anticipation humming through me. There wasn’t much on this late at night. Christmas movies, sappy and predictable on the Hallmark Channel. I sneered. Cartoons that were highly inappropriate for young ‘uns. Night show hosts who thought they were funny. I almost gave in and turned the TV off, when I happened upon a 24-hour news channel.

  I froze, the remote in my hand, still pointing it at the TV.

  Would you look at that. I sat up straighter. It was my girlie.

  They were replaying a press conference. The bank robbery in California, the hotel and armored truck depot in New York…it had all been the same lady who masterminded the whole thing. Who’d have thought? She almost got away with it, too, but she killed herself when the FBI caught up with her.

  Women were weak.

  The little Asian girl at the podium talked about how they did it, but I didn’t pay any attention. I was watching Winter in the background. When the Asian girl tried to turn over the mike to Winter so she could
speak about it, my girlie just refused with a little smile.

  Good girlie.

  “I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she must be silent.”

  1 Timothy, 2:12.

  One of my favorites.

  I chuckled, feeling an odd glow of pride and a strong sense of irony for what was about to happen next. My sweet little girlie wasn’t an attention-hogger, that was for sure. I was really feeling like I was starting to get to know her. I wanted to spend some time with her. Get to know her better.

  I watched the press conference until the end, enjoying the chance to look at her. It was so enjoyable, in fact, that I almost forgot where I was, until a car pulled up in the driveway and headlights cut a path across the ceiling.

  Feeling regret and irritation that I didn’t get to see the whole thing, I blew my girlie a little kiss.

  “See you soon,” I murmured, shutting the TV off so that I sat in the darkness.

  I was ready.

  The front door opened, and a man and a woman came in. He was laughing at something she’d said, and they stopped in the foyer to kiss under the heavy chandelier that hung overhead. I tried to wait them out. It was a long kiss, though, and growing inpatient, I cleared my throat loud.

  The woman, dressed for a night out—probably a company Christmas party—jumped back with a squeak. The man turned the overhead light on in the living room, and I was glad, because I got to see the woman better. She was a cute little thing. Petite and curvy in all the right spots, with glossy, dark hair that hung to the middle of the back of her pretty red dress.

  She was even prettier in real life than she was on TV, where she spouted scripture to a whole church filled with heathens, acting like preachin’ to them was her place.

  It wasn’t her place.

  Why wouldn’t people listen to me?

  “Who are you?” the man demanded, reaching into his pocket to pull out a cell phone.

  The woman, not so preachy now, ducked behind him.

  She screamed when I stood up from their comfortable leather couch. I hadn’t even done nothing to make her scream yet, and that made me chuckle. I smiled and shushed her as I raised my pistol and shot the man in the forehead.