Closer Than You Think

by Karen Rose

  Every instinct Deacon possessed screamed at him to turn now, to get to Faith now. But he kept going, following Adam’s instructions. As soon as he stopped the sedan, he was out and running, Adam at his side. They were fifty feet from the van when the driver’s door opened.

  Faith got out, walking stiffly, her face pale. She stopped next to the sliding door on the van’s passenger side.

  ‘Greg’s in the front passenger seat,’ Adam said. ‘Dani and Roza must be in the back.’

  Deacon and Adam crept forward as the van’s side door slid open and Jordan got out, a nine mil in his hand. He took off his suit coat and laid it in the van, then with a key fob he popped the trunk of Jeremy’s Bentley. Wrapping Faith’s hair around his fist, he dragged her to the trunk, and shoved her halfway in, his gun pressed to the back of her head. He seemed to be making her pick something up.

  Faith straightened, her face stricken with horror. She held a gas can in her arms.

  Deacon’s blood froze in his veins. ‘He’s going to set her on fire, like he did to her mother. Let’s go. Go. Go.’

  Gun in hand, Deacon charged, unaware that he was screaming until his throat started to burn.

  Jordan spun around, his jaw going slack with shock, but he recovered quickly, shoving the barrel of his pistol against Faith’s temple. ‘I will kill her,’ he shouted. ‘I will drop her like a rock. So freeze, Novak.’

  ‘You won’t leave here alive,’ Deacon said, slowing to a walk. Adam had made it around the other side of the van and was inching closer.

  Dragging Faith with him, Jordan backed up toward the van, its side door still open. ‘I said freeze, Novak.’

  ‘She’s not the only one who knows, Jordan. We all heard you confess. Her phone was in her pocket, connected to mine the whole time. You’re not walking away.’

  ‘I think I will. I’m going to get back into my van and we’re all going to drive away, pretty Faith at the wheel.’ Jordan pulled his arm across Faith’s throat, taking the final step backward so that his back was up against the van’s open side. All he had to do was take one step up and he’d be able to pull Faith back into the van, just as he’d said he’d do. ‘So, Agent Novak, if you want your family to survive this day, you will get back in your car and drive—’

  Jordan’s mouth gaped open like a fish as he gasped. One knee bent, then he went crashing to the ground, dragging Faith with him. The slim hilt of a kitchen knife stuck out of his back.

  And an eleven-year-old girl with big dark eyes and ratty tangled hair stood in the van’s open doorway, looking down at him with contempt. Roza.

  ‘Holy shit,’ Deacon whispered, then started running again, Adam at his side.

  Jordan staggered to his knees, waving his gun around like a drunkard. He pointed it at Roza and pulled the trigger, his shot going wide. The van’s passenger door flew open and Greg jumped out. Grabbing Roza in his arms, he dove for cover.

  Another shot split the air, followed by a yelp of pain. Greg.

  And Faith . . . She wasn’t moving. She lay on the ground, her hair still wound around Jordan’s wrist. He jerked her up by her hair, arching her back, his gun to her temple again. She blinked, her eyes moving dizzily.

  ‘Put the guns down, gentlemen,’ Jordan wheezed. ‘Now.’

  He was losing blood. Deacon could see it. They just needed to wait him out. Faith was regaining her composure, her eyes growing clearer as Deacon watched.

  ‘I said put the damn guns down.’ With every emphasized word, Jordan ground the gun into Faith’s head, making her wince. Making her pissed off.

  Deacon slowly crouched, placing his gun on the ground, hearing Adam behind him doing the same. Watch her face, he thought. She was getting ready to do something.

  In one motion, Faith twisted, bringing her left fist up to Jordan’s right shoulder – where Corinne’s bullet had pierced him the day before – then closed her hand over his arm in a claw grip and hung on. With a howl, Jordan dropped the gun and tried to pull her off him, but she clung, digging her fingers in deep.

  She pushed him to his stomach, straddling him, grabbing the gun he’d dropped. Gun in one hand, she yanked the wig off his head with her other, then smacked the back of his head with the gun and Jordan went limp. ‘You’re not getting away with it,’ she snarled, raising the weapon and hitting him again. ‘I won’t let you. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.’

  Her breath came hard and fast as she lifted the butt of the gun to hit Jordan a third time.

  ‘Faith, no,’ Deacon cried, rushing up to scoop his own gun from the ground, then pulling Faith off Jordan’s back. ‘He’s down. You can stop now. He’s down.’

  Jordan lay on the ground, unconscious, the hilt of the knife still sticking up out of his back.

  ‘He didn’t get away with it,’ Faith said quietly, staring down at her uncle.

  ‘No, honey, you didn’t let him.’ Deacon pulled her into his arms as Adam ran to Greg, turning him over.

  ‘Greg’s been hit,’ Adam said. ‘He needs an ambulance.’

  New panic engulfed Deacon. ‘Where’s Dani?’ he demanded.

  ‘In the back of the van,’ Faith said. ‘She’s tied up.’

  Adam jumped into the van to release Dani so that she could help Greg.

  The scene became surreally quiet, the sound of Adam’s voice calling 911 fading away so that the beat of his own heart was all Deacon could hear. He let Faith go and took a step toward Greg’s still body, but then training kicked in, reminding him of what still needed to be done.

  Restrain the bastard and see to the injured.

  Deacon dropped to one knee so that he could handcuff the still unconscious Jordan. He pulled the cuffs from his belt, his hands feeling slow and clumsy. He looked over at Greg, who hadn’t moved.

  He glanced toward the main road, where three squad cars approached, lights blaring.

  It’s about time, he thought irritably, until he realized that they had been only a few minutes behind them. Everything had happened so damn fast.

  And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver as Jordan rolled to his side and aimed a long thin blade at his throat.

  The bastard was playing possum, Deacon thought as fire seared his throat. He could feel the knife pulling free as he slumped backward, his eyes locked on Jordan O’Bannion’s crazed face.

  Jordan came to his knees and, hand shaking, raised the blade again. Lift your arms and block it, Deacon told himself, but his arms seemed so heavy. His gaze shifted from Jordan’s face to the blade as, in his mind, he braced for the blow.

  It never came. A shot cracked the air and Jordan’s green eyes widened briefly in shock before he crumpled to the ground.

  Faith ran over, Jeremy’s gun in her hand. Deacon could see her face. Could hear her screaming his name. But he couldn’t breathe. Weakly he touched his throat and felt the warmth of his own blood. Shit.

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Thursday 6 November, 5.26 P.M.

  ‘Deacon!’ Faith shouted his name. She fell to her knees beside him as blood spurted up from the wound in his throat. Dropping the gun she’d used to shoot Jordan, she pressed her hands to Deacon’s throat, trying to stop the flow. ‘Dani! Help me!’

  Uniformed officers from the three squad cars rushed the scene as Dani stumbled out of the van. She looked from Greg to Deacon and a split second later was at Faith’s side.

  ‘What do I do?’ Faith asked, fighting the panic.

  ‘Go to Greg. Use whatever you can to stop his bleeding. Leave Deacon to me. Go!’

  Faith scrambled across the asphalt to where Greg lay, pale and blinking slowly. ‘D?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Dani’s got him,’ Faith said, trying to keep her voice positive. ‘Where are you hit?’

  ‘Leg,’ Greg said. ‘Hurts like bitch.’

  It didn’t look too bad, though, Faith thought. It wasn’t gushing like Deacon’s throat was. She pulled off her sweatshirt and pressed the fabric to the wound. Then she looked at th
e little girl sitting on the pavement, watching it all with large dark eyes.

  ‘You’re Roza,’ she said. ‘I’m Faith.’

  ‘Faith Frye,’ Roza said. ‘He was afraid of you.’

  ‘Good,’ Faith said with a fierce nod. ‘He should have been.’

  Roza’s gaze locked with hers. ‘He killed my mother,’ she said.

  Faith nodded soberly. ‘He killed mine, too.’

  ‘Then it’s good we both got to kill him,’ she said tonelessly. ‘Where is Corinne?’

  ‘In the hospital. She’s okay. She’s worried about you.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ the child said, still tonelessly.

  Oh no, sweetheart, Faith thought. You are not okay. None of us are. ‘Where did you get the knife?’

  ‘From Corinne, back in the woods.’

  ‘How did you free yourself?’

  ‘She gave me the knife,’ Dani said from behind her. ‘I cut her free. She was supposed to free me next, but she stabbed him instead.’

  Bracing herself, Faith turned around to look at Deacon and her heart stopped. His face was nearly as white as his hair. But Dani’s hands moved quickly and competently. Dani met her eyes for a split second and gave her a hard nod, and Faith’s heart began to beat a little more normally.

  ‘Is he gonna die?’ Greg asked, and Faith returned her attention to the boy.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘He won’t. He can’t. Dani won’t let him. Neither will we.’

  One of the officers ran up to Greg with a first-aid kit. ‘I can take over here, ma’am,’ he said.

  Faith nodded, scooting back on her butt to get out of the way. She didn’t have the energy to stand. And then a pair of strong arms lifted her and she found herself face to face with a very pale, very shaken Adam Kimble.

  ‘You saved his life,’ Adam said hoarsely. ‘Look.’

  Faith swallowed back the tears as they both turned to look at Deacon. His amazing eyes were open and they were watching her. His chest rose and fell with shallow but even breaths. His throat no longer spurted blood, Dani’s field dressing holding firm. He lifted his arm an inch off the ground, holding out his hand.

  On rubber legs she walked over to him, Kimble keeping her upright until she was at Deacon’s side. She fell to her knees a second time and, grasping his hand, brought it to her lips.

  ‘Thank you.’ He mouthed the words.

  She smiled down at him. ‘I told you that I hit what I aim for,’ she said, and his lips curved. An ambulance pulled into the lot behind the three squad cars. ‘Your ride is here. They’re gonna have to patch you up, but I’ll be there when you open your eyes.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 11 November, 10.00 A.M.

  ‘You look like little Red Riding Hood,’ Deacon said from the hospital bed, his laugh as rusty as an old gate. ‘Your basket’s almost bigger than you are.’

  ‘Hardly,’ Faith said, relieved to see him looking so good. He’d lost a lot of blood when Jordan had stabbed him in the throat. Luckily his throat was covered in layers of hard muscle, slowing Jordan’s blade down. A fraction of an inch deeper or to the side and he might have bled out. Still, he’d been intubated and sedated for two whole days. His voice was raspy and might not ever sound the same as it did before, but he could still make her shiver when he said her name.

  ‘I have lots of people to see, so my basket is full of goodies,’ she told him. ‘But since you’re special, you get first pick. I have books and flowers and toys . . .’

  ‘I want Red Riding Hood,’ he said, his grin more than a little naughty. He reached out the arm that wasn’t connected to tubes. ‘Everyone else can have what’s in the basket.’

  She put the basket on a chair and walked into his arms, the first time she’d been able to do so since everything went down the week before. ‘You scared me,’ she whispered.

  His arm tightened around her. ‘You scared me too. Promise me you will never, ever get in a car with a maniacal serial-killing uncle again.’

  ‘I won’t. I promise.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He kissed her mouth before letting her go and patting the side of the bed. ‘Tell me what’s happening.’

  She settled next to him and took his hand. ‘Well, Jordan is still dead.’

  ‘That’s good. Zombie maniacal serial-killing uncles are damn hard to kill again.’

  She chuckled, then sobered. ‘I never killed anyone before, but I’m not sorry. I feel like I should feel something, but . . . I’m totally okay with what I did.’

  ‘If you hadn’t shot him, I wouldn’t be here. So I’m okay with it too. What other news?’

  ‘Bishop found Jordan’s souvenirs. They were in a box in the house where he held Dani and the others. Driver’s licenses, jewelry, phones . . .’ Just like his case in West Virginia.

  ‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘Bishop told me. She and Lynda are organizing all the victims’ belongings to give to their families when the case is closed. I have to admit I’m glad I don’t have to do that again. But Scarlett’s looking like I did last year. I hate that.’

  Faith patted his hand. ‘But Bishop has a partner who she can talk to when her burden gets too heavy.’ She made her lips curve. ‘Some good news is that Jeremy’s been officially cleared. It turns out that he keeps a very detailed calendar. He was able to account for his whereabouts for all of the seventeen abductions. He offered the information voluntarily. He doesn’t want anyone to wonder if he’s the other half of an unholy duo. He thinks Jordan took him and Keith so that they wouldn’t have an alibi for my death. And Dani’s and Greg’s. Jordan was going to leave us in Jeremy’s Bentley, and then put Jeremy at the wheel and cause another accident. A big fiery one.’

  ‘I’m so glad you killed that sonofabitch,’ Deacon said mildly, but his eyes were hard.

  ‘Physically Jeremy’s fine, but Keith’s in bad shape. The ortho guys are working on his knees and talking about steel plates. Marcus is out of ICU and Stone’s been released. Mickey’s funeral is tomorrow and of course I’ll go.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘On a happy note, Arianna and Corinne have a Facebook page and currently have twenty-five thousand likes.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Meredith is worried that all the publicity may make it harder for Arianna to cope with the sexual assault, but Arianna says she’s not hiding from life and I say good for her. Both Meredith and I will be here if she decides she needs us.’ She tapped her lip. ‘Greg is uncomfortable but okay. He likes that the girls from school come and fuss over him. That he got shot in the leg saving Roza’s life has earned him major hero points.’

  ‘What about me? Do I get hero points?’

  She threaded their fingers together. ‘You were already a superhero. How do you get better than that?’

  ‘I don’t have an answer for that,’ he murmured.

  She leaned forward and kissed him gently. ‘You looked so good coming across that field, screaming like a crazy man, your coat flowing out behind you. If I hadn’t been terrified for my life, I would have jumped your bones right there.’

  He snorted a laugh. ‘Right there?’

  ‘Well, I would have pitched a tent or something. Privacy and public nudity concerns.’

  He chuckled. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’

  ‘Me too. Literally. We have to thank Roza most of all.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Well . . . fine and totally not fine, depending on the moment. Meredith is working with her, too. Jade’s not being charged with anything and the Kendricks are here from Vancouver. They want to take both Roza and Jade, but Roza is super-attached to Corinne. Poor Corinne can barely take a bathroom break, but she doesn’t seem to mind. It’ll be years before Roza even approaches normal. Her father is here. He is so happy to have her in his life that he might transfer here so she can stay near Corinne.’

  ‘He came by, actually. Roza’s father. He was so grateful that he cried.’ Deacon cleared his throat. ‘And then Bishop came by. She’s pissed that she missed all
the excitement.’

  ‘That’s what she claimed when you were in surgery. But I think she was a little worried about you. Let’s see . . . The bellman is going to make a full recovery and the woman from the grocery store is conscious. She’ll have a more difficult recovery, but that she survived at all was a miracle. Turns out she runs a no-kill shelter for dogs. She’s got friends that are caring for the dogs until she’s able to go back to work. Dani and I thought we’d go out there to get a dog once you and Greg are out of the hospital.’

  He smiled at her. ‘I like that idea. Dani’s always wanted a dog. Greg has, too. But it needs to be a big dog. A manly dog. No little frou-frou dogs with ribbons in their hair.’

  ‘We’ll make sure it’s a manly dog,’ she promised. ‘Oh, we figured out how Jordan got to Miami and back that weekend. The FBI was checking commercial aircraft. I got to thinking about how he got to Miami so fast when I was injured by Combs.’

  ‘You said he was there even before your dad and Lily.’

  ‘Because he chartered a flight. I asked Crandall to check with the charter services that fly out of Lunken. Jordan used his Edward Saugh ID to charter a flight to Miami that weekend and he rented a white van. What else? Oh, yeah. Henson’s grandson and daughter-in-law broke down and admitted to fraud but not murder. They didn’t know that Jordan had planned the car accident that hospitalized Henson Junior. Both Henson Senior and Mrs Lowell are retiring, but I think I’d be hiring new lawyers anyway.’

  ‘And your job? Did you get your job back from the bank?’

  ‘No, I don’t want to work for them.’ She lifted her brows. ‘I got an offer from CPD.’

  His mouth fell open. ‘You’re kidding. Really?’

  ‘Really. Isenberg wants me as a department psychologist. I also got one from a counseling center. I’d be working with Meredith Fallon. I’m probably going to pick door number two.’

  ‘Damn,’ Deacon said mildly. ‘I had fantasies about you with a billy club.’

  She grinned at him. ‘Me too.’

  He traced a pattern on her arm. ‘What about your mother?’

  Her grin faded. ‘I asked Carrie Washington not to exhume her. Jordan told me what I needed to know. I still have to tell my dad about the murder.’