SIXTY-EIGHT
I tell Diana that Mathias is taking over. The odds that Diana will be targeted by Benjamin are exponentially higher than the odds Mathias will be. The odds Mathias could escape harm if he is targeted are substantially higher than the odds Diana could. And the odds that I'd feel suffer a lifetime of guilt if Diana got hurt helping me? Much higher than the chances I'd suffer that over Mathias. He understands what he's getting into.
I'm back in the forest now. I pass Mathias, who's where I left him. I resume my careful wandering as I call for Storm, my voice low as if I'm trying not to attract the attention of anyone from town. With every few steps, I stop and listen. Once he hears me, he'll let me hear her. Allow her to whine or make some noise that'll bring me running.
I hear nothing.
I circle the town, and I'm about two-thirds of the way around, passing the icehouse and the rebuilt lumber shed. I'm thinking I might have been wrong about Benjamin taking Storm. Yes, Diana agreed with my logic. Mathias did too, having figured out the same thing independently. But there's been no sign that we're right.
I'll go as far as the main path. If I bump into militia there, I'll take my lumps from Dalton. I just need to be sure--
A figure ducks behind a tree. I'm shining my flashlight beam toward town, and there's someone in the strip between me and Rockton. I stop and hunker down, whispering loudly, "Storm? Is that you?"
It could be a local. Someone who saw my flashlight, came to investigate, and ducked behind that tree because, well, there's a killer loose. If so, whoever it is should hear me calling for Storm and come out.
He doesn't come out.
I make a show of looking to the left and right of where he's hiding, bending and squinting and shining my light. I'm hoping he makes the next move, to save me the decision. The question is whether I pretend I can't see him and lure him farther from town. That's what I'd like to do. He's too close and that worries me, fearing someone will come to my "rescue" and get caught in the middle.
Presumably Benjamin still has my gun. If I turn my back, I take a risk. Possibly a huge one.
Part of my brain tells me to take the risk. The only danger is to myself, and I'm doing it to protect others. That's my thing, isn't it? Others' lives are worth more.
Except ...
Maybe it's Dalton's brutal-honesty therapy. Maybe it's Dalton himself. Dalton and Rockton and everything I have here. For the first time in my life, I see a future, and seeing a future means I'm in no big rush to cancel it.
I step toward where the figure hides. "Is someone there? It's Casey. I'm looking for my puppy, and I'll warn you that I've got a gun and I might have taken a few painkillers, so it's probably not a good idea to play hide-and-seek. You're not in any trouble for coming into the forest. Eric isn't around. Just step out."
I don't honestly expect it's a random resident. I'm trying to put Benjamin at ease. Also letting Mathias--wherever he might be--know I'm approaching a shadowy figure.
You said you've got my back, Mathias. You damned well better.
I take two steps. "You shouldn't be out here. I don't know if you slept through the commotion, but--"
The figure breaks from hiding ... and runs toward town. That gives me pause. It looks like a man. I see jeans and boots and a parka, the standard winter uniform for everyone in town.
I break into a run regardless. I'm calling, "Hold up!" and "You're not in trouble!" Then he glances over his shoulder. And it's Benjamin. Looking right at me as he runs.
He wants me to see him. There's no doubt of that.
So why the hell is he heading into town?
It's still dark, but it must be nearly eight, and I hear the sounds of the town waking. I smell the smoke of wood fires and hear someone shouting, "Hey, wait up!" to some resident walking to work.
Benjamin's running into town. Holy shit, he's running into town. With my gun. While people are sleepily wandering about, heading to work.
I kick it into top gear, gritting my teeth against the old pain in my leg.
I have a clear bead on him. I can make the shot. I have no doubt of that. I can shoot and pray I don't kill him, but if I do, that's the chance I have to take. I'm sorry, Nicole. I'm sorry, Storm. I have an armed and desperate man running into a town full of people, and I must weigh the odds. Coldly and calculatedly run those odds, knowing I'm damned to a lifetime of nightmares either way.
I take out my gun. Aim low. I can do that. Take him down but keep him alive just long enough to tell us where to find his captives.
It's no guarantee. I know that. But it's a chance I must take and--
Benjamin veers. I don't expect that, and I skid as I change direction. He's running for the lumber shed.
Why the hell is he running for the lumber shed?
He's changed his mind. Lost his nerve. Realized he's as likely to get caught as to take a hostage.
He throws open the lumber shed door and races inside.
I stop. I stand there, gun in hand, watching that half-open door.
Come on in, Detective. So I can blow your brains out the moment you step through.
I look around. There's no one in sight--we're too far from the bakery, which is where most people up this early are heading, grabbing breakfast and coffee.
I glance over my shoulder and spot Mathias. He's on the edge of town, hunkered down. Then he darts for the icehouse, on the other side of the lumber shed.
Mathias is covering me, so I have to take Benjamin's bait. Maybe it's the damned drugs. Maybe it's just adrenaline pulsing through my veins, saying, You have him. He's right in there.
I circle out of the line of the doorway and approach the lumber shed. I smell the new wood, both from the construction and the fresh-hewn contents. I also swear I smell smoke from the fire that gutted the building four months ago. A reminder to be careful.
I creep toward the door. Then I stop and listen. I can hear Benjamin moving inside.
I count to three and run through, slamming open the half-closed door as hard as I can and racing past and then dropping and rolling behind a pile of logs. I quickly shift to a crouch, gun poised.
"I'm not going to come looking for you," I say. "I can stay right here, guarding the exit, until Eric returns."
"Then why come in at all?"
Because he's armed, and this building isn't constructed like the icehouse. Benjamin can easily find a crack or knothole and open fire into the town. I don't say that; I'm not giving him any ideas.
"You've trapped yourself," I say.
"Huh. You're right. Well, that was stupid of me."
"You lured me in here. So what do you want, Benjamin?"
"To talk to you. You're a good conversationalist."
"Not really, but I am a good negotiator. Better than Eric, who doesn't negotiate. Like you said, I'm sleeping with the guy in charge, and if he pisses me off, he loses access to what might be the most precious commodity in this town. So I'm here to negotiate the terms of your surrender."
"Dalton will kill me. We both know he will."
Actually, I know he won't. I can't say the same for the council.
"I don't know what will happen to you," I say. "But neither Eric nor the council will let you walk away. I might."
He goes quiet. Then he laughs and says, "Like hell," but I detect a note of hope in it.
"Here's the deal," I say. "You give me back my gun. I lead you into the forest. You take me to Nicole, and I'll let you go, with your promise never to come back to Rockton. Oh, and I want Storm, too."
"Storm ... What sto--You mean that mutt of yours? You really were looking for it?" A short laugh. "I thought that was a trick to make me think you had a reason to be out. I don't have your damned dog, Detective."
That gives me pause but only for a moment. Storm really must have slipped out in the chaos.
"Nicole, then," I say. "That's all that matters to me. Nicole. Slide over my gun--"
Something chitters across the wood. I take out my flashl
ight, put my fingers over the lens and turn it on, giving off just enough diffuse light to see.
There's my gun. Five feet away. Between me and the door.
He's luring me into the open. He must have found a second gun somewhere.
I eye my weapon. I look around and spot a pile of sticks drying for tinder. I take one and crawl over, staying behind the logs. I snag my gun and tug it toward me. The lumber shed stays silent until I have it and then Benjamin says, "Happy?"
It's a trick. It must be.
I turn the gun over in my hands. It's clearly mine. Unloaded, naturally. I stick it in my holster.
He must have a second gun. He thinks I'll come out now, confident that my scheme is working, and then he'll shoot me.
"If we're doing this, we need to go before sunrise," he says.
"I want to see you. Lift both hands over your head."
I raise the diffused light until I can peer around the semidark. I see his hands. Raised and empty. Ten feet away.
"Keep your hands up and come my way. Walk past me and stand in front of the door."
The hands start moving. "Just remember, Detective, if you shoot me, you lose Nicole."
"I'm well aware of that."
Those raised hands move toward the door. Are they definitely his hands? Could he have taken another hostage?
I see a head. The hood is raised. Yes, that's it. He has a hostage--
The figure looks over. It's Benjamin. I give a start, and he smiles.
"Jumpy, Detective?" he says.
I clench my teeth. It must be a trick.
Yet what is he doing? Exactly as I say. Staying calm. Following orders. That's good, isn't it?
He's a desperate man. He may not believe I'll let him go, but this gives him a chance. Lead me into the forest, let me think I'm in charge, and then, when we're safely away from Rockton, turn the tables. Take me captive.
That's the answer. It's always been the answer. He accused me of being arrogant, but that's him projecting his own hubris onto his opponent. He's going to walk into that forest for the same reason he thought I would--confident we can escape.
"Good enough?" he says, standing in front of the open doorway.
"Stay where you are."
"Yes, Detective."
I walk two steps. A bird calls outside, and I look over, startled. Benjamin's foot flies out sideways, and I'm trying to figure out what the hell he's doing, when the stack of lumber beside me gives way with a roar and a crash. Logs smash into my legs. He leaps at me as I stumble.
We go down, my gun skittering across the wooden floor. I'm facedown, and I go to flip over, but the cold steel of a blade bites into the back of my neck.
"You knew it was too easy," he says. "You knew, but you couldn't resist. So damned predictable."
"Now what?" I say.
He hesitates, as if he expected more, maybe a sob or a plea for mercy. I know what comes next, and I'm not terribly concerned. The moment he pushes me outside that door, Mathias will be on him. Or at least on our trail.
"Now what?" I repeat. "If you think I'm going to go with you, I answered that one already."
His thumb digs into the back of my shoulder. Into the gunshot wound. I hiss in pain. That's what he's looking for, and he gives a small grunt of satisfaction.
"No, Miss Casey," he says. "This time I bow to your will. You're not going anywhere."
"You're going to kill me? Is that why we're chatting? So you can give me the gory details before you do?"
"You're the one who started this conversation. I'm not going to kill you, Detective. You won't die today. You won't die tomorrow. Nor are you leaving this lumber shed." He pauses. "No, technically, I suppose that's not true. You are leaving it. In a way."
Before I can respond, he says "Crawl to your left. I'll guide you. Try anything, and I still won't kill you. I'll just cut the back of your neck. Do you know what happens with that? Ask Roger. Well, not now, I suppose. He and I were out hunting with his brother. Bear got the kid. Clawed the back of his neck. Roger scared the beast away, but his brother couldn't walk after that. The settlement put the kid out of his misery. Roger didn't like that. Didn't like the fact I didn't help with the bear either. I don't know why I would. His brother was a whiny brat. So Roger left the settlement. Which is the long way of saying that I know what happens if I put this blade through the back of your neck."
"Just tell me where to go."
He directs me left and walks behind me. I'm thinking of ways to take him down, ways to alert Mathias, weighing odds, when he says, "Stop," and I see that he's removed a couple of boards, opening the floor to the permafrost gap below.
Before I can react, Benjamin drops on me, hard, one knee in the center of my back, pinning me to the floor. The blade moves to my neck, and as his lips lower to my ear, something pricks my neck. I think it's the blade, but he murmurs, "Did you feel that, Casey? Bring back memories?" and I know he's sedated me. I buck, but he pins me harder, his thumb digging into my shoulder injury.
"You have about sixty seconds before you pass out. You could scream. In fact, I'd recommend it. You won't, though, because you still hope to escape this on your own. Calling for help? That's for cowards. Casey Butler is not a coward. Which means she's about to suffer for her pride. That sedative will kick in and then, when you wake up, you'll find yourself in that hole, under this building, the floor sealed up again. You'll try to escape, but you won't be able to move, and you'll think you've just been bound, until you realize I've cut your spinal cord. And do you know what I think you'll do then? Not a damn thing. You'll be free to call for help, but you won't, because you couldn't hack life like that. You'll want to be put down. You're not weak, like Roger's brother, blubbering for mercy. Death is mercy. You'll see that, and--"
I shoot him.
He howls and falls to the side, and I scramble up, already woozy but fighting it, and he's lying there, clutching his bleeding leg, his eyes wide, as if he doesn't quite know what happened, how I could have shot him when he emptied my weapon.
"Did you really think I wouldn't bring another gun?" I say.
The door opens with a bang. Someone's heard the shot. Someone's come. I send up a word of thanks, because this sedative is kicking in fast, and right now, my options would be to kill Benjamin or risk him carrying out his threat. Given that choice, I'd kill him.
I'm sorry, Nicole. So, so sorry.
A figure rushes over. It's Mathias. He grabs Benjamin in a chokehold and presses into his neck as the younger man struggles. When Benjamin goes limp, Mathias turns to me and says, "Can you walk?"
"He drugged me. Again."
Mathias's lips purse. "For the best, I suppose. It saves me having to do it."
"Wh-what?" I swing up my gun. "You son of a bitch."
I try to train the gun on him, but my hands are shaking now, shaking so bad I can't even aim, the sedative hitting hard. I try to find the trigger. Mathias walks over, turns the barrel aside and takes the gun.
"No," I say. "No, no, no."
Mathias crouches in front of me and pushes loose hair back over my ear. "You still think I'm going to hurt you. Never. I will fix this problem for you. You have won the match. I am here to mop up the blood. When you wake up, this garbage will be gone, and you will have your puppy back and, as soon as I can manage it, Nicole as well. Just leave this part to me."
My mouth works. Then I start to drop, and I feel his hands slide under my head, lowering it to the floor as I lose consciousness.
SIXTY-NINE
I wake to Storm licking my face and whining and nudging me. My flashlight is above my head, turned on, and I look around to find I'm still lying on the floor of the lumber shed. That open hole beside me has been covered with boards. I rise, hearing, "Casey!" shouted so loud the voice cracks.
"Eric," I say, scrambling up as Storm races around me in circles, hearing his voice, trying to figure out where it's coming from.
"Casey!"
I say, "In here!" but it
comes out as a croak. I rise, wobbling. I make my way to the door, Storm dancing around me.
"Careful," I murmur. "I'm a little shaky."
I manage not to trip over her, and I'm about to pull open the door when she jumps on it, reminding me that yanking it open probably isn't wise. I bend and hold her with one arm, as I open the door with the other.
"Eric! I'm in here! The lumber shed!"
Storm barks. A woman yells for Dalton. It's Anders who appears first, running around the back of the shed. Then Dalton shoulders past and throws open the door as I stagger back, saying, "Storm!" when the puppy charges for the open doorway. Anders grabs her and then Dalton's grabbing me as I collapse, everything going dark again.
*
When I open my eyes this time, I'm staring up at Dalton's bedroom ceiling. I sigh and say, "Look, next time I pass out, can you put me somewhere else? Just for a change of scenery?"
Anders chuckles. "You woke up in the lumber shed an hour ago. That was different."
Dalton's face appears over mine. "Or you could just not get yourself into situations where you're likely to pass out." He sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm guessing Benjamin's gone. Did he take Mathias?"
"What?" I blink, trying to orient myself.
"I know you're not up to questions, but they're both missing."
"No, Mathias took..." I bolt upright. "Mathias took Benjamin. I shot Benjamin, and then Mathias came and he said ... he said was going to get Nicole back."
"Well, let's hope he does," Anders says. "Right now, they're both gone. We're just glad you're not. Diana told us what happened--Benjamin luring you out by taking Storm, and you going after him with Mathias."
"Diana...," I say. "I need to speak to Diana."
*
"Did he threaten you?" I ask as Diana walks in.
She slows. "Good to see you, too, Case. Up and questioning already. That's a good sign."
"Mathias threatened you," I say. "Not physically. That isn't his style. He has something on you. Knows something. He threatened to tell if you didn't go along with his scheme. If you didn't take Storm and give her to him."
"Did you get hit on the head or is that just the drugs talking?" she says. "I'm the one who tried to stop you."
"Only because you knew I'd be suspicious if you jumped on my go-after-the-puppy scheme. You played it exactly right. Resist but let me talk you into it. Insist on being backup, knowing I'd worry and leap at the chance to swap you for Mathias."