“Stay back!” She hoped he would listen. She didn’t want another innocent getting killed.
Lara rounded the back corner of the house and only slowed when she reached the door. She had to be careful now. Blondie was inside somewhere. She turned the knob, kicked the door open, and barged in with her weapon extended. To her left was a massive kitchen; the right side opened into a soft, beige family room. The space was eerily quiet.
Lara spotted the body on the floor. Fuck! She moved sideways toward the victim, keeping her eyes and weapon on the rest of house. Where the hell was Blondie? Still watching for the shooter, she kneeled, glanced at the victim’s head. It was Morton, and his brains were leaking on the floor. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! She’d failed to get here in time. She stood, not sure what to do next. Where the hell were the police?
A noise in the backyard made her jump. She spun around and through the picture window saw Nick. The camera was still on his shoulder and he was talking to someone on his iCom while he filmed. She motioned him to stay out.
Movement on the desk monitor caught her eye. She stared at the images in the square frame, seeing live footage of a large room with no windows. A basement. A teenaged boy and a girl sat on a bed with only a stained white sheet covering it. They were naked and chained to the wall by thick metal ankle brackets. Blondie kneeled next to the boy, examining his ankle lock. Lara drew in a breath so sharp it hurt. What kind of sickness was going on here?
Where was the room? It had to be somewhere in the house. She ran for the hall, looking for stairs going down. Dear god, Thaddeus Morton was a sexual predator! Was that why Blondie was after him? Lara felt ill. She’d given up the Gauntlet trying to save a piece of scum. The kids could still be in danger though. Blondie was a killer.
Lara charged into a bedroom, looking for a doorway and finding only a luxurious master bath. She ran into the second bedroom and found only exercise equipment. Rushing back into the main open area, she scanned the two living spaces. Nothing that looked like it could be a secret door.
Nick stood near the French doors, filming her and the house.
“Get out! The shooter is still here!”
She charged past him into the kitchen and spotted a swinging pantry entrance. At the back of the ten-foot room was a shelf the width of a door. The shelf had swung out, revealing stairs behind it. An overhead light illuminated the carpeted steps leading into the basement. Lara paused. Blondie was down there with a gun and two kids. She had to be careful. She stepped through the opening and started down the stairs. She turned at the landing and pressed her back to the inside wall. From there, she could see into the first half of the sparse room.
Moving slowly, Lara descended into the basement. The cement walls had been painted white and the light over the bed was stunningly bright. Better for the cameras, she realized. The scenario sickened her. Was the setup just for the commissioner’s sick pleasure or were perverts around the world watching this depravity?
Lara stepped into the room and aimed her weapon at the killer. With his back to her, he stood in front of the dark-haired boy. The girl-bone-thin with tiny breasts and long sandy hair-was on the other side of the mattress. Blondie’s gun lay on the bed next to the boy.
Lara took a step closer. She had no way to drop Blondie without hitting the boy. Oh fuck. How could she be in this situation again?
“Put your hands in the air and move away from the bed.”
Blondie snatched his gun from the mattress and whirled around, aiming it at Lara. “You again,” he said, giving her a creepy smile. “I’m kind of glad you’re here.”
Lara took that to mean he planned to kill her and she’d made it easy. She either had to pull the trigger now and take him down or talk him into surrendering. But she couldn’t risk killing the boy, which left only once choice. “What’s your name?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Blondie’s expression softened. “Can you help me get these kids free? I can’t leave them like this.”
Lara eased closer. “Why don’t you surrender? Morton deserved to die, so you’re not in much trouble there. But if you kill me, the whole world will know. There’s a cameraman upstairs who’ll soon be on his way down. The police are coming too.” Lara was certain of the former but not the latter.
Blondie’s eyes darted around the room, as if looking for an escape.
Lara willed him to move two feet in either direction, but he stood his ground, confused and shaky.
“I’ll let you go,” she promised. “Just get away from the kids, go up the stairs, and run for the front door. The camera guy is in the back and won’t see you.” She would keep her promise, not wanting to ever shoot anyone again. The police were coming and they would catch the guy.
When he first saw the captive children on the monitor, Paul had gone a little insane and had rushed frantically around the house trying to find them. Seeing them in the flesh from the bottom of the stairs, a strange sense of calm came over him. In killing Morton, he’d freed these innocents from a life of living hell. Paul hadn’t realized he needed forgiveness, but now that he’d bestowed it on himself, he could see a way forward.
Too shocked to speak, he knelt in front of the boy and examined the locked bracket around his red swollen ankle. Paul had no idea how to remove it. He would have to leave the house and summon the police anonymously. Then he heard the woman behind him. It was the first time he’d heard her voice in person, but he knew who she was. Lara, the paramedic contestant from Oregon.
He grabbed his gun and turned. “You again. I’m kind of glad you’re here.”
She asked his name, but he wouldn’t tell her. Lara wouldn’t help him with the locks either. She did her best to convince him that killing her was a bad idea. Paul gave her a lot of credit for sounding calm and rational while they had weapons pointed at each other. Now Lara said he could walk away and she’d let him go. Could he believe her?
His thoughts raced from one possibility to another. More than anything he wanted to salvage his life with Camille. Yet that hope grew dimmer with each moment. Could he simply shoot this woman and escape? Her eyes were locked into his in such an intense way. Lara looked like she was quick with her hands and, truthfully, she scared him. He knew she wouldn’t go down without firing at him. From the way she held her gun, he accepted that she had more skill and would likely strike a fatal blow. Paul decided to take a chance on her offer of escape. If she shot him in the back, so be it, he would die knowing that he’d at least tried to make something of his life. If he went to jail, so be it, at least he would never be alone.
Lara made a decision. She lifted her arm in one quick motion and shot out the overhead light. The room went completely dark, the teenage girl cried out, and Blondie swore. Lara dropped to her knees and crawled eight feet at a slight angle. She guessed at her location, leapt forward, and tackled Blondie. They both fell sideways to the floor. Lying on top of him, she shoved her gun into the soft of his throat, then groped blindly with her left hand, searching for his weapon.
Flashlights shone across the room. Someone shouted, “Drop your weapons and freeze!”
Footsteps bounded across the carpet and someone picked up the shooter’s weapon from the floor. A hand touched her shoulder. “Lara, you can let him go. We’ve got this.”
In the dim eerie glow of flashlights, she saw Detective Harper and two uniform officers. Her part was over. She scrambled to her feet but held on to her 9-millimeter.
“Give me the gun, Lara. It’s procedure.”
She reluctantly handed it over. Her body slumped with relief. “He killed Morton,” she said.