by Celia Aaron
“I mean it. I’d have to arrest you for murder.”
“I know.” He dropped our hands to his lap and pressed mine between both of his. “I don’t intend to kill him. I just want to know the truth.”
“So do I.”
“And maybe hurt him some.”
“Benton—”
“He’ll probably try to escape or something. I don’t know. If he gets his ass kicked during the attempt, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
I sighed and turned onto Route 7. “There’s plenty wrong with that. I intend to bring him in. Alive. Question him at the station.”
“You think he’ll talk?”
“Light eyes probably won’t. But Judge Ingles, maybe.”
“If he’s still alive.” Benton stared out at the road as we ate up the miles. “I don’t see the Colletti family leaving any loose ends down here now that they’re winding up their business. Once they get what they came for, the judge is as good as dead.”
“I don’t understand what started all this. What was the catalyst? Why did your father suddenly decide to play fast and loose with a crime family?”
“No idea.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Dad was always careful.” He frowned. “Even more careful than I’d ever suspected. He hid the Lina thing and this entire money laundering charade from me.”
“I guess the reason why doesn’t matter anymore. It won’t bring any of these victims back. Neither the guilty or the innocent.” Poor Mrs. Lagner’s bulging eyes flashed through my mind. “But I still intend to find out.”
“You know what I keep thinking about?”
“What?”
He squeezed my fingers. “Did Dad know that he’d start this domino effect when he did whatever he did? Did he know his actions would lead to all this senseless killing? I keep trying to square the man who’d put all these lives on the line with the man who raised me.” His heavy sigh weighed him down. “I still can’t.”
“He did some bad things, but I can’t imagine he wanted Letty to die, or anyone else. Maybe he thought he was going to get away with it. Honestly, that’s probably it.” I slowed as we passed mile marker 18. “Criminals never think they’re going to get caught. They don’t consider that chance. That’s why they do it.”
“It’s so odd.”
“What?”
“To hear Dad referred to as a criminal.”
“Sorry.” I glanced at him and wished I could do something to ease the hurt in his eyes. “I really am.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s his.” He peered through the darkness, a steep hollow falling away from the road to our right. “We should be almost there.”
“Yeah, I think the next curve is the edge—”
“Look out!”
I didn’t see the truck until it was crashing into us, pushing us off the road and into the deep, cold woods.
31
Benton
Arabella’s scream embedded itself in my head like a bullet. I reached for her as we careened down the wooded embankment, the car glancing off trees, glass shattering, and metal screeching. The car bumped over a fallen log, tilted to the right, then slammed into a tree along the side of a deep ravine. We came to a stop, the car rocking with steam pouring from under the hood.
“Arabella.” I grabbed her hand, though it was hard to see her in the dark.
“What the…” She stirred and coughed.
“A truck. It came from behind us, lights off. Are you okay?”
She pulled on her seatbelt, the strap still tight against her chest. “I think so, but I probably have a stripe going across me from this.”
“Better a stripe than something worse.” I pushed her hair from her face. “You’re bleeding.”
She turned to me. “Benton.” Reaching up, she pressed her palm against my forehead. “You’ve got a bad cut.”
“Damn.” I blinked and realized blood had been clouding my vision. “Doesn’t matter. We have to go.”
She shot a look over her shoulder. “Whoever did that will be coming for us.”
An engine idled on the road above us. We needed to get moving.
Arabella unstrapped her seatbelt and felt her pocket. “My phone.” She leaned forward and reached beneath her. “I can’t find it.”
I pulled the shotgun free and leaned down to help her search.
The crack of a shot followed the thunk of a bullet into the trunk of the car.
“Shit!” I grabbed her arm. “Forget the phone. I’ve got mine.”
“Okay.” She grabbed the door handle. “Let’s go.”
I threw my door open and scrambled out.
“Benton! My door’s jammed.”
Another shot and a chunk of pine tree exploded just a few feet ahead of me. I leaned into the car and grabbed Arabella’s upper arms. With a yank, I pulled her across to me. We both tumbled into the dirt, the pine needles not giving enough cushion as I got the wind knocked out of me.
“Come on.” She crawled around to the front of the car.
I followed as another shot shattered the night.
“We have to get to the bottom of this ravine. That’ll give us enough cover to cut across toward the property.” Arabella wiped her sleeve across my forehead. “I have a first aid kit, but it’s in the trunk.”
“It’s not worth it. I can barely feel it.” I gingerly felt around the cut at my hairline. “It’s just bleeding a lot because of where it is. Hang on, I need to tell Porter.” I pulled out my phone.
Another shot thudded into metal.
“Hurry. The longer we sit here, the easier it will be for him to pick us off.”
With only one bar, I speed dialed Porter.
“Yeah?” Country music blared in the background, then quieted.
“There’s a shooter out here on Highway 9 near the main entrance to the property. He ran us off the road, and we’re on the run through the woods. Send whatever deputies you have available.”
“All I heard—shooter—woods…”
“Porter.” I spoke hard into the phone, as if that would help with connectivity.
“Can’t hear…”
“Goddammit Porter, we need help!”
“Can’t hear—damn—saying. Fuck it, I’m going to send deputies over that way.” The one moment of clarity ended as my service died.
Arabella nodded. “Let’s go.” She pulled her pistol. “I’m going to lay down some covering fire. Hopefully, he’ll hide and we can get far enough away. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” I hefted the shotgun as my heartbeat surged on pure adrenaline.
“On three.” She maneuvered to the edge of the car and pointed her pistol up the slope. “One, two, three.”
We darted away from the car as she fired three shots. The undergrowth yanked at my calves as I rushed into the dark with Arabella keeping up at my side. She fired two more rounds just as a slug kicked up the pine straw in front of me. He was a good shot. Fuck.
“Left!” I hurdled a fallen tree, then turned and caught Arabella as she came over.
We hit the bottom of the hollow and raced away from the wrecked car. A shallow stream ran between fern-covered banks. We slogged through it, keeping a hellish pace until the sides of the ravine grew sharper, rock outcroppings giving us impenetrable cover.
“Jesus, my feet are frozen.” Arabella stopped, her hand resting against a mossy stone.
I hustled her around to the side of the rock, then pulled her into my arms. We both shivered, the icy water seeping into our shoes and up our pants.
“The cold may kill us before the shooter does.” Her teeth chattered.
“We just have to keep moving. It’ll keep us warm.”
“Right.” She stomped her feet a little, as if to shake some heat back into them.
“I don’t think he followed.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought I’d heard the sound of an engine growing louder, then disappearing.
“If he’s smart, he’ll loop around onto the property and
wait for us to come out of the woods.”
“I think it’s safe to say he’s pretty smart. We just need to be smarter.” I gave her one more squeeze then let her go.
“Let’s keep going.” She pulled her coat together and buttoned it.
I took her hand, and we picked our way along the side of the stream, moonlight glinting off the surface as a frosty wind rattled the dead leaves still left on the trees.
“We’re close.” She jumped across the water as the landscape flattened out to our right, the stone embankment growing impassable on our left.
“Yeah, satellite showed the trees thinning out at the edge of the property. It looked like they clear cut the center of the pulpwoods a long time ago and kept it clear. Maybe for cattle?”
“Could be.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Probably some old homestead out here or something. No doubt creepy.”
“Let’s hope not.”
Our footsteps seemed too loud, our puffs of breath too obvious. Sound carried in icy air, the rumble of a log truck from the highway making it all the way to us. But we were still hidden in the woods. No need to get stealthy just yet. We tramped along for fifteen more minutes, our steps growing quieter as tall grass began to fill in the open spaces between the trees.
We passed what was left of a decrepit fence, the timbers long since rotted, a feast for the termites and ants.
“I think we’ve been on the property for a while, but this is the clearing I saw on the satellite images.” I slowed and peered through the dark.
“Let’s just stand and listen for a minute.” She pulled me behind a thick pine tree, and we moved so we were back to back. The brief respite of warmth was welcome—for her, too, since she leaned against me.
A small rise blocked my view of what was ahead, but I was scouring the trees back toward the road. If the shooter had come around to cut us off, that’s where he’d be. A few minutes passed, my cheeks going numb as my body heat dropped.
“I don’t see anything.” The words came out on a shiver.
“Me neither.” I turned and pulled her into my arms, trying to give her what little bit of warmth I had. “If he was out there, he would’ve taken a shot by now. I think we’re in the clear, at least for the moment.”
“Jesus, I should have planned this better.” She pressed her nose against my throat; it was even colder than I was.
“We’re all running on adrenaline at this point. And you couldn’t have planned for some asshole to run us off the road.”
“Maybe not, but I should have known he was there. He must have been following us ever since we left Azalea. I was too keyed up to notice.” She shook her head as much as she could. “Rookie mistake.”
“Stop beating yourself up. I’m pretty sure Chief Garvey is going to do it for you later. Give him a fresh target, why don’t you?”
A tired laugh shook her. “You know, when I met you, you were the biggest asshole on the planet. Now, we’re huddled up together and you’re telling me jokes to cheer me up. How did that even happen?”
“Just lucky I guess.”
She snorted. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”
I kept my head on a swivel as we strode to the top of the rise. After narrowly avoiding an anthill that was bigger than a toddler, I turned my gaze forward.
We topped the rise.
Arabella gasped.
I hefted my shotgun and pulled the trigger.
32
Arabella
The shotgun blast set off a ringing in my ears as I drew my pistol and fired three rounds at the man with the light eyes. He rolled away from his rifle and scurried behind a beat-up pickup truck parked in front of a large barn. He’d been lying in wait for us, but the rifle must have jammed. Or maybe he’d taken a shot right as Benton fired. It didn’t matter. I had to take him down either way.
“Come out with your hands up!” My voice sounded strong, though my heart seemed to shiver in my chest.
There was no cover, so I cut a semi-circle around to the right, my pistol trained on the truck. Benton pumped the shotgun once, a spent shell landing in the grass as a fresh one took its place.
“I said come out!” We kept moving, each step slow, until we got even with the back side of the truck. No one was there.
Benton dropped and peered under it. “He’s gone.” When he rose, he held up a finger with a red streak across it. “But one of us winged him.”
“He could be in the barn.” I checked the bed of the truck, then opened the door. Nothing amiss, other than the fact that it had been wrecked when it ran us off the road.
He peered at the ground and walked past the barn door.
“Benton!” I pressed my back to the sturdy wood as he peeked around the corner.
“He went toward the far tree line. There’s more blood over here.” He returned to my side and pulled out his phone.
Porter’s voice grumbled through the speaker. “Where the fuck are you two?”
“There’s a barn. Wasn’t in the satellite images. It’s pretty new, from the look of it. If you follow the back road—”
“The back road is for shit. Someone put up a concrete barrier. Can’t even get around it in the four-wheel drive because it’s marshy as fuck. I’m stuck in the fucking mud from trying.”
A frustrated roar constrained itself to Benton’s throat. It died down, and then he spoke again, “The man with the light eyes is here. He shot at us. Ran us off the road.”
“I’ll radio the deputies to watch for him.”
“He’s on foot and injured. On the south side of the property near the main entrance. Send whoever you can onto the property. There’s a barn just off the main entrance. And hurry up and get your ass over here!” Benton ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket.
“We need to check it out.” I jerked my chin at the barn. Light shone through a crack in the door.
“I know, but I was hoping Porter would be here to back us up. I mean, it’s not like he’s the sheriff or anything. This is just like him.” He sighed.
“We got this, but there’s no sense taking stupid risks.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “If anything goes down, we get the hell out and hunker down until the cavalry gets here.”
“I think the cavalry will be dealing with the biggest threat. Light Eyes isn’t fucking around. Whoever might be in the barn won’t hold a candle to that creep.”
“Let’s find out.” I eased along the side and gripped the door handle closest to me. I yanked it, but it didn’t move, and the clang of a metal chain rang from inside.
“Someone’s in there.” Benton blew out a white puff of breath.
“We can’t get in, not without a battering ram.” I shot a glance to the mangled truck. “Which we may just have.”
Benton already took my meaning as he ran around and checked the driver’s side. “Key’s here. Back up.” He gunned the engine, then turned the rickety truck in a wide circle, ending with the broken headlights pointed squarely at the barn entrance.
I reversed course and stationed myself several feet from the doors, far enough to avoid any backlash.
“Ready?” he called.
“Hit it.” I held my ground as he floored it, the truck bounding forward over the terrain until it made contact with the doors. Wood splintered, glass shattered, and the truck busted into the barn with a ruckus that probably carried for a mile.
I ran over as Benton climbed from the driver’s side, the truck’s engine sputtering and dying.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” He pulled his shotgun from the seat as I surveyed the barn.
A naked bulb hung in the center, and all the stalls were empty. No hay graced the floor, and it was clear that no animal had ever set foot in there. Ahead, a desk sat beneath the bulb, a laptop perched on top and stacks of banker’s boxes strewn around.
“More files?” Benton walked over as I peered into the dark corners, my gun up. Nothing moved, but the doors had been bolted from
the inside. Someone was here.
He flipped the lid off the closest box. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
He pulled out a stack of bills. “Cash.”
I turned in a circle and peered up into the loft.
Another box top hit the floor. “Cash. All of it is cash.”
“That must be—”
“Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” Judge Ingles walked from the shadows, his eyes glinting under the harsh light.
Benton brought up his shotgun, but I already had my gun trained on the judge’s head.
“I’m unarmed.” He held up his hands and leaned against one of the barn’s support beams. “I can’t run anymore. Not now that he’s here.”
“Who? Benton?”
He shook his head with a tired sigh. “Colletti’s guy. The one who killed Randall and Letty.”
“You knew all along, didn’t you?” I didn’t drop my gun. Not until I knew for sure he wasn’t dangerous.
“Yes.”
“I could have protected you. If you’d have just said something, I could have saved Letty. No one else would have had to get hurt. To die.”
“There was no sense in that.” He adopted a reasonable tone, one he probably used while wearing his robes and sitting in judgment on others. “Besides, Letty had it coming. She started all this. After what she did to Lina over—”
“Letty hurt Lina?” Benton walked to my side, his shotgun at his hip, though still pointed at Judge Ingles.
“Lured her out to that ravine and pushed her in.” He nodded.
“What do you mean ‘she started all this’?” I took a step closer, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth.
“She hurt Lina, which got Randall to thinking about leaving and turning his back on our arrangement.”
“The money laundering scheme.”
He smiled, his teeth crooked like old tombstones. “Good work, little detective. He wanted to take a chunk of the unwashed money—” he tilted his head toward the boxes of cash, “—take Lina, and disappear.”
The pieces fell into place in my mind—one at a time. “But the Collettis found out somehow.”
