“Did he shoot at you?”
“No. But I tripped on the edge of the driveway.” She leaned down to touch her puffy ankle. “I wonder if it’s broken.”
“I don’t know.” Mallory frowned. “I’m surprised the shooter didn’t kill you.”
“I guess I wasn’t the one he was going after.”
Mallory shook her head. “Yeah, you don’t really look anything like me.”
“So, you think he wanted to kill you?”
Mallory could hear the sound of sirens now. “That sure took long enough,” she said as she peered through the high window. When she turned around, Winnie was crying. “What is it?” Mallory asked. “Are you in pain?”
“I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I guess it’s all just hitting me. I think of myself as a brave person, but I’ve never been so scared in my life. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t even sure if I could walk after I fell. So I just lay there on the ground. I guess I hoped he’d think I was dead or something. Like playing possum. Truth is, I was too scared to move. And my foot felt like it was on fire.” She wiped her nose with her wrist. “I still can hardly believe what happened.”
“It was pretty scary.”
“Yeah. So there I am, lying on the ground, feeling helpless, and just when I’m thinking the shooter’s on his way to finish me off, Logan swoops in and gathers me up like I’m as light as a feather.” Her tears seemed to melt into a smile. “He probably saved my life.”
Mallory wanted to add that she had been Logan’s backup, but thought, Why bother?
“There was so many gunshots that I thought for sure someone would be dead,” Winnie continued.
“Well, hopefully one of those bullets got the gunman, but I hope he’s not dead.”
“You’re kidding!” Winnie scowled. She pressed the water bottle against her swollen foot. “He’s out there shooting at everyone like a maniac. And because of him I got hurt and who knows how long it’ll take to heal up so I’ll be able to return to work again.”
Mallory wanted the gunman to be alive in order to make a confession that would reveal Brock Dennison’s involvement in this whole nasty business. Because nothing else made sense. She wanted this criminal, as well as the one in jail, to confess to being Brock’s hired thugs and, in all likelihood, responsible for Kestra’s death, too. What happened to them after that made no difference to her. She simply wanted Brock to be exposed and brought to justice, and for this madness to end. And then, perhaps, she could return to her old life. Or find a better life.
She was just imagining a happy ending to this frightening story when she heard her phone chiming, signaling that another text had just been received. She wished that it was from Logan or even her dad, confirming that he was on a red-eye, but the sender was, once again, “unknown.”
You still there? Still living and breathing? If so, enjoy it while it lasts because it won’t be long until it’s all over.
Mallory shuddered as she stared at the bold words. Whoever sent them obviously didn’t know that the conspiracy to murder her tonight had gone sideways...or had it?
FOURTEEN
Logan regretted leaving Mallory with Winnie. But he knew that, in order to protect them, he needed to follow through with the shooter still outside. Although he hadn’t admitted as much, he was relatively certain that he’d seen the shooter fall after one of his shots. But with the two women still locked outside of the garage, there had been no time to investigate. And, although help was coming, he didn’t want the gunman to get away.
If the gunman wasn’t seriously wounded, he might be more determined than ever to get to Mallory while he still had the chance. So with the fully loaded Ruger in his holster and the automatic rifle in hand, Logan turned off the rear exterior lights then slipped out the back door and, going around the far side of the house, cautiously approached the shadowy front yard where he’d seen the gunman fall.
To his relief that guy was still there. Lying on his side, he was curled up in a fetal position. Not moving. Just the same, Logan was careful on his approach. Creeping up from behind him, Logan grabbed the rifle that the gunman had used, tossing it well out of reach.
“You alive?” Logan asked in a gruff voice. As much as he’d wanted to stop the gunman, his goal had never been to kill him. And even though Logan knew, from taking gun classes, that it was safer to shoot to kill in a self-defense situation, he hoped that this creep was still breathing.
The guy let out a low groan and Logan felt a small wave of relief. Even so, he didn’t trust this guy. For all he knew, the gunman could still be armed with a handgun. “Don’t move,” he told him. “I don’t want to have to shoot you again.”
The guy just moaned.
“Are you working alone out here? Or is there someone with you?” Logan glanced over both shoulders as he planted a foot on the wounded man’s back, ready to shoot, if necessary. When the guy said nothing, Logan nudged him with his foot, eliciting another loud groan. “You working alone, man?” Logan demanded. “Tell me the truth and it will go better for you.” He nudged him again. “Hear those sirens in the distance? Medical help is on the way. Tell me, are you working alone?” This time he nudged him quite firmly.
“Alone,” the man gasped.
“But Brock Dennison sent you?”
The guy said nothing.
“Answer me!” Logan nudged him again. “How much did Brock pay you?” But the guy was silent now. Logan hoped he wasn’t dead. Down the driveway a pair of headlights were quickly approaching. Hopefully they belonged to Deputy Griggs. Not far behind, on down the road, came a short stream of flashing lights and emergency vehicles. Keeping his gun handy, Logan called Griggs’s number, informing him of his whereabouts. “I’m in the front yard. With the gunman. He’s shot, but still alive.”
Deputy Griggs got there quickly and together they rolled the shooter over. Then Griggs frisked him for weapons—securing an additional handgun and a large hunting knife—and finally Griggs handcuffed him and read him his rights.
“He said he’s working alone,” Logan told Griggs. “But I wouldn’t believe him. The other guy—the one who ran me off the road earlier—he’s probably connected with this guy. And who knows whether they have any other criminal friends crawling about the woods.”
Within minutes, the other emergency vehicles arrived and not long after that, both the shooter and Winnie were being transported to the hospital.
Eager to get back to Mallory, Logan found her still sitting in her dad’s office with a very dejected expression.
“You okay?” He leaned down to look into her face. “You heard we got him, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. And that he’s still alive and on the way to the hospital.”
“Good news, eh?”
She gave him a weak smile.
“Then why so glum?”
She held up her phone. “This just came...a few minutes ago.”
It’s not over until it’s over. Not until you meet up with Kestra again.
He read the words then shook his head. “It figures. Well, I already decided that we should get out of here for the night.” He reached for her hand.
She peered curiously at him. “But Deputy Griggs seemed fairly assured that I’d be safe now that the shooter is in custody.”
“Yeah...he’s probably right. And Perez appeared to be alone.”
“That’s his name?” she asked. “Perez?”
“Yeah. Antonio Perez. Ring any bells?”
“No.” She shook her head as she slowly stood.
“But even though Perez claims he’s on his own, we don’t know that for certain.”
“Yeah... I guess not.”
“The deputies and detectives will do a thorough search over the whole property. Probably late into the night. So it won�
�t be exactly peaceful around here. And until we’re a hundred percent positive that Perez didn’t have an accomplice, I’d feel better if we stayed someplace else tonight.”
She looked slightly relieved. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Get whatever you need for the night,” he said as they walked through the house. While she gathered her things, he looked out the window, watching as flashlight beams moved about through the trees. He knew the deputies were searching for Perez’s car. Some of the emergency vehicles still had their flashing red and blue lights running, which added to the drama of the crime scene. Thanks to Winnie’s 911 call and Griggs’s request for additional help, the place was crawling with law enforcement. If there was another gunman, Logan felt relatively sure he’d be hot-footing it out of here by now. Even so, he didn’t want to take any chances. No need to stick around.
As he ushered Mallory out to his Jeep, Logan’s eyes roamed from right to left. He knew they weren’t out of harm’s way yet. “Maybe you should keep low,” he said as he started the engine.
“You mean put my head down again?”
“Just in case there’s another shooter between here and the main road. It’s probably paranoia on my part, but I’d feel better.”
She leaned forward, putting her head between her knees. As he backed out, he reached over to pat her on the back. “It won’t be for long. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m sure the coast is clear.”
“Maybe you should put your head down, too.”
He smiled. “Hard to drive like that. But I’ll go fast.” At least that would make them a tougher target, he thought as he stepped on it, going off-road to avoid the other vehicles and making it to the main road with no shots fired. A mile or so down the road, he told her she could sit up. “Sorry to be overly cautious. But after everything...well, you just never know.”
Mallory let out a tired-sounding sigh. “So...where are we going?”
“A safe haven.”
“Your place? The fishbowl?”
“My other place. The firehouse.”
She chuckled. “Really? They won’t mind if I spend the night there?”
“They?” He laughed. “Remember, I’m the chief. And as long as you don’t complain about the bunk or the food, I’m pretty sure you’ll be welcome.”
They rode in silence for a while, but finally Mallory broke it. “Do you think the gunman is going to live?”
“I hope so.”
“Really?” she sounded slightly surprised.
“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh... I don’t know...something Winnie said.”
“What’s that?”
“She didn’t seem so concerned about him living. I want him to be alive to testify against Brock. I want him to bring the truth to light. Guess that’s kind of selfish.”
He shrugged. “Well, my reasons for wanting him alive are selfish, too. I just don’t like the idea of being responsible for killing a man.”
“But it was in self-defense,” she argued. “And you were defending Winnie. And me, too.”
“That’s true. But I didn’t really want to kill him.”
“And apparently you didn’t.” She turned to look at him. “Did he say anything—I mean anything about his motive, who he was working for?”
“I tried to get him to talk. Other than claiming to be alone, he was pretty quiet. I mentioned Brock’s name, and he never said a word. But I think the silence was telling.”
“How’s that?”
“He could’ve denied knowing Brock. But he didn’t.”
“Will someone question him further at the hospital?”
“Absolutely.”
Mallory let out another long sigh, leaning back into the seat. “I called my dad after I heard the gunman was in custody. I wanted to reassure him that I was okay. But he’d already booked a red-eye flight for tomorrow night. He’ll arrive really early Sunday morning. But maybe I should tell him to cancel it. Maybe with Perez locked up...maybe he doesn’t need to come home, after all.”
“I don’t know.” Logan figured this decision was probably best left to Deputy Myers.
“I made another call, too,” she said quietly.
“Uh-huh?”
“To my friend Alex.” Her tone had a mysterious edge to it.
“Alex?”
“Remember my friend in the newsroom? He’s a writer for Channel Six, too.”
“Oh, yeah. So what did you tell Alex?”
“I gave him an anonymous tip.”
“Anonymous?”
“Well, I asked him to keep it anonymous, and he promised he would.”
“What was your tip?” Logan was pretty sure he knew, but what he didn’t know was—why? Why would Mallory want to poke what could turn out to be a hornet’s nest? It seemed more prudent to simply lie low...for the time being.
“I told him about the gunman. About how he had tried to kill us—and that he was hospitalized. I also mentioned that he was on my parents’ property and was possibly linked to arson the night before.”
“What did Alex say about that?”
“Naturally, he was very interested. He promised to look into it right away.”
“And you really think you can trust this guy...this Alex?”
“I hope so. Like I told you before, he’s not a fan of Brock Dennison.”
“Ah...”
“The big question was whether they can run it as a story tonight or not. Alex wasn’t sure he could get it all together in time for the late broadcast. But he promised to write it for the co-anchor—Abby Kingston. I didn’t want Brock to get his hands on it.”
“Well, even if it can’t be on tonight’s news, at least he’s working on it.” Logan let out a tired yawn as he turned down the street to the firehouse.
“You must be exhausted,” Mallory said in an apologetic tone. “And all because of me.”
“I’m a little tired.” He tried to sound light. “Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.”
“I’m sorry that I dragged you into my problems,” she said quietly. “This was supposed to be your time off and—”
“Hey, don’t misunderstand me, Mallory. I was happy to spend the evening with you. I knew exactly what I was getting into, and I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
“I really appreciate it, Logan.” Her voice sounded shaky. “I honestly don’t know what I’d have done without you.” She held up her hands. “I might be dead.”
A cold chill ran through him. She was probably right—she very likely would be dead. And then what would he do? “What time is it?” He saw the firehouse ahead.
“Almost eleven.”
“Want to watch the eleven o’clock news?” He parked in the side lot.
She didn’t answer right away.
“Or if you’d rather not—”
“No,” she said firmly. “It should be very interesting. And informative.”
The bright lights of the firehouse felt like a warm welcome to him. Such a different world than the one they’d just left. “Our safe haven,” he announced as turned off the engine. “For tonight, anyway.”
“I really appreciate it.”
As he led her inside, he knew he’d have to more fully explain tonight’s strange situation to his crew. Because the paramedics had been first responders, everyone here would already know about Winnie’s accident, but details regarding the gunman would probably be sketchy. So, while Mallory took a seat on the sagging sofa, he attempted to enlighten his buddies on the interesting events of the evening.
“So Winnie’s at St. John’s, getting some X-rays and whatever, but I’m sure she’ll be just fine.” He grabbed the remote and tuned the TV to the Portland news channel. “The gunman, who may also be the p
erpetrator in last night’s arson, is in custody. He’s also at St. John’s.”
As the news show’s theme music began to play, Logan went over to his usual chair, an old recliner his mom had donated to the firehouse, and eased himself down. He felt tired to the bone and hoped he didn’t doze off before the news show was finished. “And now, if you don’t mind, Mallory and I want to watch this.” He put his feet up. “It’s possible that the news anchor is involved with these crimes.”
“You don’t mean Brock Dennison?” a female firefighter named Jennifer asked him.
Logan just nodded.
“You’re saying Dennison is involved with your gunman and in Winnie getting hurt?” TJ asked.
“Possibly.” Logan turned up the volume.
“You gotta be kidding.” TJ looked skeptical.
“Time’ll tell.” Logan hoped he hadn’t said too much.
“No way,” Jennifer declared. “Brock Dennison is a good guy. He’s always working on benefits for kids and stuff. No way could that guy be a criminal. That’s just crazy.”
Logan simply shrugged, but Mallory looked decidedly uneasy as she grabbed a throw cushion and clutched it to her chest. Did she regret coming here with him now? As the news show started the firefighters began to chat amongst themselves and Logan had to give them a shush signal.
“Seriously, folks, we want to watch this. Go somewhere else if you need to yack.”
The room got quiet as the newscasters started sharing news highlights from the day, but apparently Portland was having a rather quiet summer evening because most of the stories were pretty ho-hum. In fact, it was so boring that Logan knew it should be putting him to sleep, but something about Brock Dennison’s smug tanned face made Logan feel wide-awake. If that pretty boy was truly behind all this nastiness, Logan would enjoy the chance to wipe that smile off his face. The monster had to be stopped.
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