Livvy sat down on the bed and pulled on her boots. “It was a suicide note. Handwritten. Billy confessed to all the murders and the attempts to kill us. The lab tech pulled up Billy’s signature from his driver’s license, and the handwriting seems to be a match.”
Seems. Reed wanted more. After the fiasco with Shane, he wanted layers and layers of proof. “I’ll send them more samples of Billy’s handwriting so they can do a more thorough analysis. What about fingerprints on the paper? Did they find any?”
“Just Billy’s.” She hooked her bra, ending his peep show, and grabbed a fresh white shirt from the closet.
That could mean that Billy had indeed written it—voluntarily. But maybe it meant he was coerced and the coercer had worn gloves or perhaps not even touched the paper.
But he didn’t want to borrow trouble. Everything pointed to Billy, and for now, Reed would go with that.
Livvy and he strapped on their holsters, and as they hurried down the stairs, she gathered her hair back into a ponytail. They obviously woke Betty Alice because the woman threw open the door to her apartment and peered out at them.
“Is there more trouble?” she asked.
“Could be.” Reed tried not to look overly alarmed about the situation with Charla. And he also tried not to look as if he’d just had sex with Livvy. It wouldn’t matter, of course. The gossips would soon speculate about both, especially since his truck had been parked in front of the inn for several hours.
Betty Alice clutched the front of her pink terry-cloth robe, hugging it even tighter. “Anything I can do?”
“Just stay put. And you go ahead and lock your door.”
Her eyes widened, and she gave an alarmed nod, but she shut the door, and Reed heard her double-lock it.
Livvy and he headed out, locking the front door securely behind them. They hadn’t even made it down the steps when his phone rang again. From the caller ID, he could see it was Shane.
“Reed, you said you wanted to know if the situation changed,” Shane said, his words rushed and laced with concern. “Well, it changed. Charla disappeared.”
Reed’s stomach knotted. “What do you mean she disappeared?”
“She’d been hiding in the bushes like I said, and I had one of the deputies on the top floor using night goggles to keep an eye on her. She started running, and the deputy didn’t want to shoot her in the back.”
Reed could understand that, especially since Charla hadn’t actually threatened anyone but herself.
“I’m in pursuit of her,” Shane added. “And we’re both on foot.”
“What direction is Charla running?” Reed asked.
Shane didn’t hesitate. “She’s headed your way.”
WHEN REED drew his gun, Livvy did the same.
She hadn’t heard all of Reed’s conversation, but the last part had come through in Reed’s suddenly tense expression.
What direction is Charla running?
“She’s on her way here?” Livvy clarified.
“Yeah. And according to Shane, she’s armed and possibly gunning for us.”
Great. Here, Livvy had thought they’d dealt with the last of the attempts to kill them, but she had perhaps been wrong.
“Go after Charla,” Reed instructed Shane. “But don’t fire unless it’s absolutely necessary. We don’t know her intentions, and she could mean us no harm.” Though Reed didn’t sound as if he believed that.
Reed ended the call, and changed the phone’s setting so that it would vibrate and not ring. He put away his phone, but he didn’t hurry to his truck, probably because it was parked out in the open and not far up the street from the police station. Charla could possibly be on the very sidewalk next to the truck and ready to take aim if either Reed or Livvy stepped toward the vehicle.
“We need to take cover,” Reed insisted, tipping his head to the four-foot-high limestone wall that stretched across the entire front and side yards of the inn.
Reed took the left side of the gate, and Livvy took the right. Both crouched low so they wouldn’t be easy targets.
And they waited.
Because of the late hour, there were no people out and about. Thank goodness. There was little noise as well. The only sounds came from the soft hum of the streetlights and the muggy night breeze stirring the shrubs and live oak trees. What Livvy didn’t hear were any footsteps, but that didn’t mean Charla wasn’t nearby.
The woman was apparently distraught and ready to do something stupid to avenge her husband’s suicide. That meant Reed and she had to be prepared for anything, and that included defending themselves if Charla couldn’t be stopped some other way. Livvy didn’t want it to come down to that. There had already been enough deaths and shootings in Comanche Creek without adding a recent widow to the list.
Livvy heard a soft creaking noise and lifted her head a fraction so she could try to determine where the sound had originated.
“Behind us,” Reed whispered. He turned in the direction of the inn. “Keep watch on the front.”
Livvy did, and she tried to keep her breathing quiet enough so it wouldn’t give away their positions. It would be safer for everyone if they could get the jump on Charla and disarm her before she had a chance to use her gun.
There was another sound. Maybe the leaves rustling in the wind. But Livvy got the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was much more than that.
Maybe even footsteps.
The sound was definitely coming from behind them, where there was no fence, only the lush gardens that Betty Alice kept groomed to perfection. Did that mean Charla had changed course so she could ambush them? If so, maybe the woman wasn’t quite as distraught as everyone thought she was.
She could possibly even be her husband’s accomplice.
That wasn’t a crazy theory, since Billy had no doubt profited from the sale of the land that Jonah had ended up buying. Maybe Charla hadn’t gotten personally involved and had no idea it would lead to her husband’s death.
“My phone,” Reed whispered, reaching into his pocket. It’d apparently vibrated to indicate he had a call.
Reed glanced down at the back-lit caller ID screen and put the phone to his mouth. “Shane?” His voice was barely audible, and she was too far away to make out a single word of what Shane was saying.
She continued to wait. The seconds ticked off in Livvy’s head, and she held her breath for what seemed to be an eternity. She cursed the fatigue and the fog in her head. She needed to think clearly, but the lack of sleep and the adrenaline were catching up with her.
Reed finally eased the phone shut and slid it back into his pocket. His expression said it all—he was not a happy man. “Charla got into her car and drove off. Kirby and another deputy are in pursuit. Shane’s staying at the station in case she heads back there.”
“Shane’s alone?” she asked.
Reed nodded.
Livvy glanced up both ends of the street. There were no signs of an approaching vehicle. Well, no headlights anyway, but if the car was dark-colored, Charla might have turned off her lights so she could get close to them without being detected.
“You think she’ll come this way?” Livvy asked.
“No.” But then he lifted his shoulder. “Not unless she doubles back.”
Which she could do. Easily. After all, Main Street wasn’t the only way to get to the inn. She could park on one of the back streets and make her way through the inn’s garden.
Of course, that was only one of many places Charla could end up. She might have other people she wanted to confront—including Jonah Becker.
“You should get to the station so Shane will have some backup,” Livvy reminded him. “But I’m concerned about leaving Betty Alice here alone. If Charla does double back, she might come here and try to get in.”
His gaze met hers, and there was plenty enough light for her to see the argument he was having with himself. Livvy decided to go on the offensive.
“I’m not a civi
lian, Reed. I’m trained to do exactly this sort of thing.”
Reed scowled. “If I leave, then you don’t have backup.”
“True. But I can go inside. Stand guard. And I can call you if something goes wrong.”
He continued to stare and scowl at her. A dozen things passed between them. An argument. Some emotion. Also the reminder that they weren’t just partners on a case. Sex had changed things.
But it couldn’t stay that way.
Both of them were married to their badges, and they couldn’t let sex—even the best sex ever—get in the way of what had to be done.
Livvy tried to give him one last reassuring glance before she checked the street and surrounding area.
No sign of Charla.
“Go to the station,” she insisted.
“No.” He matched her insistent tone. “We both go, and we’ll take Betty Alice with us.”
Livvy huffed to show her disapproval at the veto of her plan, but she had to admit it was, well, reasonable. Or at least it would be if they could get Betty Alice safely out. Livvy didn’t like the idea of a civilian being brought out into the open when a shooter might be in the area.
“The inn doesn’t have a garage,” she commented, looking at the house. “Maybe you should pull the truck to the back, and we can get Betty Alice out through the kitchen.”
Reed nodded. “Call her and let her know the plan. Then we’ll get in the truck together. I don’t want to leave you out here waiting.”
Livvy took out her phone, and for a moment she thought the sound she heard was from her hand brushing against the pocket of her jeans.
It wasn’t.
The sound was footsteps. Frantic ones. And they had definitely come from behind.
Both Reed and she spun in that direction. They had their guns aimed and ready. But neither of them fired.
Livvy tried to pick through the murky shadows in the shrub-dotted yard to see who or what was out there. She didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
She tightened her grip on her pistol. Waited. And prayed.
The next sound wasn’t a footstep. More like a rustling. And she was able to determine that it had come from a cluster of mountain laurels on the west side of the yard.
She aimed her gun in that direction.
Just as the shot blasted through the silence.
Livvy didn’t even have time to react. But she certainly felt it.
The bullet slammed right into her.
Chapter Sixteen
Everything happened fast, but to Reed, it felt as if he were suddenly moving in slow motion.
He saw the bullet slam into Livvy’s left shoulder. He saw the shock on her face.
The blood on her shirt.
Cursing, he scrambled to her and pulled her down onto the ground so she wouldn’t be hit again. It wasn’t a moment too soon because another shot came flying their way.
“Livvy?” he managed to say, though he couldn’t ask how badly she was hurt. That was because his breath and his heart were jammed in his throat.
She had to be okay.
“I’m fine,” she ground out.
But it was another lie. The blood was already spreading across her sleeve, and she dropped her gun.
Though the shots continued to come at them, Reed didn’t return fire. He ripped off the sleeve of his shirt and used it to apply pressure to the wound.
The bullet had gone into the fleshy part of her shoulder. Or at least that was what he hoped. Still, that was only a few inches from her heart.
He’d come damn close to losing her.
The rage raced through him, and he took Livvy’s hand, placing it against her wound so he could return fire and stop the shooter from moving any closer. He hoped he could blast this SOB for what he’d done.
Or rather what she had done.
Charla.
She must have doubled back after all.
Reed sent a couple of shots the shooter’s way and took out his phone. He didn’t bother with dispatch. He called Shane.
“I need an ambulance. Livvy’s been shot. Approach the inn with caution because we’re under attack.” That was all he had time to say because he didn’t want to lose focus on either Livvy or the gunman.
“I’m okay,” Livvy insisted. Wincing, she picked up her gun, and holding it precariously, she also tried to keep some pressure on her bleeding shoulder.
“You’re not okay,” Reed countered. He maneuvered himself in front of her with his back to her so he could keep an eye on the shooter. “But you will be. Shane will be here soon to provide backup, and he’s getting an ambulance out here.”
She shook her head. “It won’t be safe for the medics. We need to take care of this before they get here.”
Livvy was right. It was standard procedure to secure the scene before bringing in medical personnel, but Reed wasn’t sure he could take the risk of Livvy bleeding to death. Somehow, he had to get her to the hospital, even if he had to drive her there himself.
He glanced back at the truck.
It was a good twenty feet away, and they’d be right in the line of fire if they stood. That meant Reed had to draw this moron out because he couldn’t waste any more time with the attack.
The shots were all coming from the side of the house near some shrubs. It was a dark murky space, most likely why the shooter had chosen it. But it wasn’t the only shadowy place. He, too, could use the shrubs and get closer so he could launch his own assault.
Reed looked over his shoulder at Livvy. “Can you shoot if necessary?”
She winced again and forced out a rough breath. But she nodded. “I can shoot.”
“Then I’m going out there.” He wanted to take a moment to tell her to be safe. To hang in there. Hell, he even wanted to wait until Shane had arrived, but all of that would eat up precious seconds.
Time they didn’t have.
Crouched down, Reed inched forward and kept his gun ready in case the shooter came running out of those shrubs and across the lawn. But there was no movement. And the only sound was from the shots that were coming about ten seconds apart.
He went even closer to the shooter, but then stopped when he heard the footsteps. They weren’t coming from in front of him, but rather from behind.
“Shane?” Reed said softly.
No answer.
And the shots stopped.
Hell. He turned so he could cover both sides in case the shooter was making his move to get closer. As Livvy leaned against the wall for support, she lifted her gun and aimed it as well.
They waited there, eating up precious moments while Livvy continued to lose blood.
“Shane?” Reed tried again.
“No,” someone answered.
Definitely not Shane. It was a woman’s voice, and a quick glance at Livvy let him know that she was as stunned as he was.
“It’s me, Charla,” the woman said.
Since her voice was coming from the area by the gate, an area that was much too close to Livvy, Reed hurried back in that direction.
Just as Charla dove through the gate opening.
Reed caught just a glimpse of her gun, and his gut clenched. No! He couldn’t let Charla shoot Livvy again.
This time, the bullet might be fatal.
Charla landed chest-first on the ground, her gun trapped beneath her. Livvy moved, adjusting her position so she could aim her gun at the woman.
Reed did more than that. He launched himself toward Charla and threw his body on hers so she couldn’t be able to maneuver her weapon out into the open.
There wasn’t time to negotiate Charla’s surrender, so Reed grabbed her right wrist and wrenched the gun from her hand. He tossed it toward Livvy and then shoved his forearm against the back of Charla’s neck to keep her pinned to the ground.
“Call Shane,” Reed instructed Livvy. “Tell him to get that ambulance here now.”
With her breath racing and her chest pumping for breath, Livvy took o
ut her phone. Beneath him, Charla didn’t struggle, but she did lift her head and look around. Her eyes were wild, and Reed could feel her pulse racing out of control.
“Who was shooting at you?” Charla asked.
The question caused both Livvy and Reed to freeze.
“You,” Reed reminded her.
Charla frantically shook her head. “No. It wasn’t me. I didn’t fire my gun. I heard the shots and took cover on the other side of the fence.”
Reed was about to call her a liar, but he didn’t manage to get the word out of his mouth. That was because the next sound turned his blood to ice.
Someone fired another bullet at them.
LIVVY DROPPED back to the ground.
Her wounded shoulder smashed against the limestone fence, and the pain shot through her. She gasped, causing Reed’s gaze to whip in her direction.
“I’m okay,” she lied again.
The pain was excruciating, and the front of her shirt was wet with her own blood. She needed a doctor, but a doctor wasn’t going to do any of them any good if the shooter managed to continue.
And obviously, the shooter wasn’t Charla.
Mercy, what was going on?
Livvy had been so sure those shots had come from the grieving widow, but obviously she’d been wrong. Someone else was out there, and this person wanted them dead.
But who?
There was another shot. Another. Then another. Each of the thick blasts slammed through the air and landed God knew where. Livvy prayed that none of them were landing inside the inn, and while she was at it, she also prayed that Betty Alice would stay put and not come racing out in fear.
Livvy waited. Listening. But the shots didn’t continue. That was both good and bad. She certainly didn’t want Reed to be wounded, or worse, but the lack of shots could mean the gunman was on the move.
Maybe coming straight toward them.
She heard the sirens from the ambulance and saw the red lights knifing through the darkness. But the lights didn’t come closer, and the sirens stopped, probably because Shane had told them to stay back. Livvy hadn’t managed to call him as Reed had ordered. And that was a good thing. If she had, if she’d told them that Reed had the shooter subdued, the medics would have driven straight into what could be a death trap.
Shotgun Sheriff Page 15
