Shelter in Place

She shouldn’t have started talking to Simone fucking Knox, shouldn’t have moved in that close, but she’d gotten caught up.

So close, so close. Bang, bang, you’re dead.

Gone off half-cocked, she thought, just like JJ.

No point worrying about that now. She just had to be smart, as always, and she’d finish this just a little ahead of schedule.

As the light dimmed, she edged back toward the rise. It would conceal her until the cops—let Quartermaine be one of them—got at least halfway down the steps. She’d take them out, every last one of the half-assed island cops.

Take them out, she thought, and unhooked the damp fake belly for more mobility, use the dark for cover, and get to the water. She’d swim to the marina, steal a boat.

Pull in somewhere down the coast, jack a car. She’d need to get into one of her bank boxes for cash and IDs, another weapon, but she’d figure it out.

She always figured it out.

And she would come back one day for the bitch who’d caused this goddamn bullshit. Who’d caused it all.

She considered the rocks, wondered if she could make it before the cops came. Wondered if the bitch and the old hippie freak were hiding there.

She gathered to sprint, heard the sirens cut off.

*

“I need to look again,” Simone whispered. “I need to see.”

“She had to hear the sirens. She has to know Reed’s coming.”

“I need to see.”

Simone eased up, strained to see through the encroaching dark. No moon yet, no stars. That in-between slice between night and day.

Then she saw him, stepping onto the patio, gun drawn and sweeping right, left, right again. Her breath came out on a wave of relief, then stopped again when she saw the movement below the house.

“Damn it, what’s happening?” CiCi edged up beside her. “Thank the gods and goddesses, there’s our hero.”

“He can’t see her. He’s coming down for us, and he can’t see her.”

“What are you doing? Simone, for God’s sake—”

Simone dragged herself onto the rocks, kicked off her shoes as the surf tried to pull her back. She made it to her knees and shouted for him.

It happened fast, though he’d relive it countless times in slow motion. He heard her, over the whoosh of the water, saw Simone, the silhouette of her kneeling on the rocks. Even as she waved her arms, pointed, Barney exploded with happy barks, and raced down the beach steps.

At the base, Barney looked right, went into his protective crouch, and quivered.

Patricia stepped out and swung left to take her shot.

Reed took his first. Hers grazed his shoulder, just above the scar. He put three in her, center mass.

He kept his weapon trained on her as he continued down, kicked her gun away from where it had fallen out of her hand.

Conscious, breath coming in pants, she stared at him out of blue eyes glazed with pain and fury.

“Don’t you die on me, Patricia. Call for an ambulance!” he shouted as his deputies poured out onto the patio, and more came from the north side of the beach as ordered. “Suspect’s down. She’s down. I want a couple of you to help get Simone and CiCi in the house so they can get warm, get dry.”

“Chief.” Matty stopped beside him as he knelt down, applying pressure to Patricia’s chest wounds. “You’re shot.”

“Not really. I know how that feels. She just nicked me. Thanks to my woman and my fucking moron of a dog, she just nicked me. Keep breathing, Patricia. I want to think of you doing a whole bunch of consecutive lifetimes in a cell. Keep breathing.”

“Reed.”

He glanced up at Simone and CiCi, both pale, their eyes too dark, both shaking.

“I need you to go on up, get on dry clothes. When you can, you’re both going to give statements to Matty and Leon. Separately. I’ll be there as soon as I can. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

He wanted to grab them both, hold them both, but not with his hands covered in blood.

“She shot you. She—”

“You’re going to make me say it. It’s just a flesh wound. I’m okay. CiCi needs to get warm and dry. Take Barney, would you? He’s a little shaken up, too.”

“The ambulance is here.” Cecil rushed down. “They’re heading down now.”

“Good. Cecil, I want you to unclip my holster, take my weapon until we have all the statements. Matty’s in charge until this is cleared.”

“No, sir, Chief.”

“Cecil, that’s how it’s done.”

“I won’t do it. You can fire me, but I won’t do it.”

“He’ll have to fire me, too,” Matty put in. “And the rest of us, because none of us are doing that.”

“Ah, well.” Reed straightened, stepping back as the paramedics took over.





CHAPTER THIRTY

Though Matty corroborated Simone’s eyewitness account, as she’d been ten steps behind Reed, he gave his statement to Leon.

“I’m going to ask you to take my weapon.”

“Nope.”

“Deputy Wendall, I’m going to ask you to take the weapon I fired, so we keep the chain of evidence clean. I’m not asking you to take over, just to take the weapon, bag it, seal it, label it. I’ve got a backup in an ankle holster, and have had since Memorial Day.”

Leon considered, rubbed his chin. “Okay then. You get that arm fixed up, Chief.”

Reed gave his statement to the feds while one of the island doctors stitched him up right in CiCi’s kitchen.

Shutting down the ferry brought Mi back, so the three women sat together, refusing to budge while the crime scene work went on around them.

Jacoby came in, sat across from him. “Tranquility Island, huh?”

Reed had to smile. “Usually. What’s the word on Hobart’s condition?”

“They airlifted her to Portland. Your clinic’s not equipped for wounds that severe. She’s in surgery. I asked your former partner to work with us on that side of the water. She’d like to hear from you when you have a chance, and wanted me to tell you she’ll contact your family, let them know you’re okay.”

“You’re okay, for a fed. My deputy Leon Wendall has my weapon—sealed and labeled. Three shots fired from it. Do you want me to run it through for you?”

“No, I’ve got it. We’re working on the rental cottage, and the car. If she makes it to trial, we’ve got everything we need. Unless she’s got another stash, it looks like she was running low on IDs. Only a couple left at that cottage. It’s clear her control’s deteriorated since you shot her. The first time. We’ll talk again, but I want to say…” She rose, held out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Chief.”

“A pleasure for me, too, Special Agent.”

*

Since Matty wouldn’t take over, Reed coordinated his deputies, talked to the mayor when she raced up in a frilly pink tank and a pair of pajama bottoms with starfish all over them. He dealt with the publisher of the Tranquility Bulletin.

He’d need to make an official statement, and do more dealing with the reporters flooding in from the mainland, but that would wait.

Since Essie had reassured his family, he’d follow up with all of them just a little later.

Leaving the rest for now, Reed walked over to sit on the coffee table across from Simone, CiCi, Mi. “How’re you doing?”

He put a hand on CiCi’s knee first.

“I’ll be better when I can have a couple tokes, but I’m waiting on that until the cops clear out so I don’t embarrass the chief of police.”

“I appreciate it. I’m sorry I wasn’t faster. Sorry I didn’t find her before she—”

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Simone gripped his face, pressed her lips to his and poured every piece of her heart into the kiss. “You did exactly what you promised. So did I. So shut up.”

“I’m going to get you a whiskey,” CiCi decided.

“It’s going to have to be coffee for a while yet. Chief on duty.”

“I’ll get it. You sit.” Mi rubbed CiCi’s arm, got up, then leaned over to put her arms around Reed’s neck. Just held on. “They’re my family,” she told him. “Now so are you.” She straightened to go into the kitchen.

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