The shot made David flinch and made Kirby jerk as his body dropped away, dead before David drew a full breath. Stunned, David hung there, staring at the neat new hole in Kirby’s temple. Then, with a hoarse cough, he pulled Kirby’s lifeless hand from his collar and rolled to his back, his chest heaving as he struggled to fill his lungs. When he forced his eyes open, Olivia still held her gun in both hands, still pointed at Kirby’s head, her face an expressionless mask. Slowly she lowered the gun, reholstering it.
Pushing himself to his knees, David pressed his fingers to Kirby’s neck, then looked up at Olivia with grim satisfaction. “That’s all, folks,” he murmured.
She choked out a sound that was neither laugh nor sob, then fell to her knees next to David, her fingertips lightly grazing his face. “Oh God, look at you.” Sitting on his heels, he winced when she touched the back of his head, then frowned at the blood on her fingers. “You’re bleeding,” she said.
David blinked hard. Now that it was over the adrenaline was fading, pain seeping in to take its place. “Hit my head,” he said fractiously, then ran his fingers over his jaw, his frown deepening. “And busted a few stitches. Hurts like a bitch.”
“I guess so.” She brushed her lips over his temple. “I couldn’t get the shot without risking you. How did you know what to do?”
He breathed her scent and it calmed him. “I smelled honeysuckle. I knew you were there. I knew you’d do the right thing.”
She rested her brow against his. “I was afraid he’d take you, too,” she whispered.
His arms closed around her, absorbing her shudder. “He didn’t. You didn’t let him.”
“Liv?” Noah stood in the ruined glass doorway, reholstering his gun. Olivia pulled away, glancing at Kirby’s body before lifting her eyes to Noah’s.
“Kirby’s dead.”
“I know. I saw it all.” He nodded once, hard. “Very nice shot. You okay, David?”
Olivia stood up. “He needs an ambulance,” she answered for him.
“No, I don’t,” David said, rising as well, riding out the wave of dizziness and nausea. “Where’s my mother and Tom?”
“I called the EMTs,” Noah said, as if David hadn’t spoken. “They’re five minutes out. Your mother is in our car with Tom. She’s fine.”
David let out a relieved breath. “Kirby called to her. I thought for sure she’d come back and that Kirby would shoot her, too.”
“We were here already,” Noah said. “We heard Kirby yell. Phoebe almost did run back here. I convinced her to trust us. To let Olivia and me do our jobs.”
David closed his eyes. Between the relief and the pain in his head, he was feeling sick. “Thank you.”
“What about Mary?” Olivia asked. “Where is she?”
“In the kitchen,” Noah said. “She’s dead.”
David grimaced, remembering how her head had exploded. “Kirby shot her.”
Olivia sighed. “Now we’ll never get answers.”
“We have a few,” David said, and told them what he’d overheard.
“Mary issued the ex-con attacker an engraved invitation,” Noah said. “I guess I can’t blame Kirby for being a little annoyed at that. But the rest…”
“He was a sociopath,” Olivia said flatly. “He killed without blinking an eye.”
So had she. But that was entirely different. He thought of her cold focus in spite of everything she’d been through and was proud of her. He brushed at the glass sticking to his shirt, his ears pricking at the sound of a siren. The police. Finally.
“What took the cops so long?” he demanded.
“They didn’t have the aerial view that we did,” Olivia said. “Lots of cabins have green awnings. They’ve been searching from the ground while we waited for the state’s helicopter. I called in the address right before Tom crashed his car into the cabin.”
“Why did Tom crash the car into the house?” Noah asked.
“It was the only diversion I could think of big enough to keep Kirby busy while I got my mom out. He’d just shot his sister and he didn’t believe Mary when she said she’d already killed my mom. I knew he’d go looking for Mom next. I had to do something.”
Olivia blinked. “Mary told him she’d killed your mom already? She lied?”
“Yeah. Kirby came in, pointing his gun and asked where her hostage was. He’d guessed she was my mother. Asked if she’d stashed her in the closet. But Mary lied.”
“Because she didn’t want to hurt me.”
David spun around. His mother stood on the patio, Tom at her side. She was pale but otherwise unharmed. “Mom.” Heart in his throat, he met her halfway, intending to keep his hug light but tightening his arms when she started to cry. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m fine. I just… I could hear him. He shot his own sister. I thought he was going to kill you.”
“I thought he was, too,” David murmured. “But I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine.”
“We are.” She pulled back to search his face, wincing at the cuts and bruises, her eyes haunted. “I waited in the car as long as I could. Oh, honey, your face.”
“Just a few cuts and bruises. I’ll heal. Are you sure that you’re all right?”
“She was moving pretty fast,” Tom said wryly. “I could barely keep up with her when Noah gave us the all-clear signal after the gunshot.”
Unconvinced, David looked her over. “We’ll get a doctor’s opinion.”
“I do not need-” his mother began, but David cut her off with a look.
“For me. Please.”
She lifted her chin. “I will if you will.”
David had to smile. “You did that once, when I was six.”
“When you fell out of that tree and I thought you’d broken your arm. It worked then, it’ll work today.” She turned to Olivia, her heart in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for trusting us just now. I know waiting and listening was hard to do.”
His mother lifted a visibly trembling hand to Olivia’s face, cupping her jaw. “You saved my son’s life.”
Olivia’s eyes closed briefly, as if absorbing the contact. “It was my pleasure.” Her eyes flickered down to Kirby. “On many levels.” She lifted her gaze to David. “Let’s get you sewn up again.”
He touched the knot on the back of her head. She tried to hide her flinch and failed terribly. “I will if you will,” he said. “You could have a concussion.”
“I can’t go now,” she protested. “I killed Kirby. I have reports to write.”
His mother frowned. “Those reports can wait a few hours, can’t they, Noah?”
“Absolutely,” Noah said. “Go, Olivia. I can handle things here.”
David slid his arm around Olivia’s waist. “Come,” he murmured in her ear. “Let go now. It’s all over. Let me take care of you.”
She leaned into him, and it felt right. “We’ll take care of each other.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Thursday, September 23, 2:00 p.m.
Excuse me. I’m looking for Detective Sutherland.”
David looked away from the window into Abbott’s office where the team had been debriefing for nearly an hour. A small woman in a dark dress was walking across the bull pen and David came to his feet. Her eyes were red, her face weary, and in her hands she held a large box. Instinctively, he knew who she was. If so, he could guess what was in the box.
“Detective Sutherland is in a debriefing,” David said.
Abbott had called Olivia while they’d been about to sit down to lunch with his family, asking her to come in, that they had some ends to tie off as the investigation wound down. David had insisted on accompanying her, aware that he’d be sitting, waiting until the cops were done. But her eyes still showed signs of strain and he was afraid that after the meeting, she’d lose herself in paperwork, even though she’d taken the day off. He could make sure that didn’t happen. “I’m just waiting for her, but one of the other detectives can help you.”