Chapter Twenty-three 14 page

She knew she was safer inside the cabin than outside, and she knew that someone would come. Crouched on the floor behind the sofa, she hoped it would provide enough cover from an errant bullet. Waiting was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

When a sharp knock on the door was followed almost immediately by a voice calling, “Emory, it’s Steph. Let me in,” Emory jumped to her feet.

“What happened?” Emory asked anxiously as she held the door open just wide enough for Steph to slip inside.

“There’s been an incident at Blair’s. I need to get you and the others up to the lodge.”

Emory grabbed Steph’s arm. “What do you mean by incident? Is she hurt?”

A muscle in Steph’s jaw bunched. “It’s a hostage situation, Emory. I don’t have much time. Let’s go.”

“Oh my God. Dana. Dana was supposed to meet with Blair. Is she there?”

“We’re not sure who’s in there.”

Stunned, Emory glanced in the direction of the bedroom. Was it possible that less than an hour ago she and Dana had lain together in that bed, making love, talking about the next time? What if there was no next time? What if Dana never came back? Emory couldn’t take it in.

Blood rushed from her head and her vision flickered. The room turned gray at the edges and she swayed. “This can’t be. She was just here. We made lo—”

Steph grabbed Emory’s arm to steady her. “Jesus, Emory. I didn’t know about you two. I’m sorry.”

“It’s…we’re…new.” Angry at herself for almost falling apart, Emory shook her head. She clenched her hands until her fingers ached. Better. “What can you tell me?”

“Until we get a head count up at the lodge, we won’t know for sure who’s with Blair. The perp said someone was unconscious. It might be Dana.”

“What’s going to happen?” Emory asked urgently as Steph opened the door and guided her outside with an arm around her and her gun at the ready. Now that they were outside, Emory could see agents shielded by boulders and trees ringing Blair’s cabin.

“We’re going to get this guy,” Steph said resolutely. “Trust us.”

Emory wasn’t used to relying on others to take care of what was important to her. And Dana was very important to her. “I know how to shoot. I practice at the range regularly. I can help.”

“You’ve never shot a person.” Steph led Emory quickly up the path toward the lodge. “It’s a lot different than a paper target.”

“He’s hurt my friends. I won’t hesitate.”

Steph indicated the back door of the lodge. “You’re the only doctor we have. We might need you. See if you can put together an aid station.”

Emory watched Steph hurry away. It wasn’t enough. Caring for the wounded, no matter how necessary, was not going to assuage the terrible anger that roiled in her chest. But doing what she could do might keep her from imagining Dana hurt. Dana had to be all right. They had just begun—only hours before she had held her, loved her. Emory refused to believe she would never have another chance.

Matheson shoved Blair toward the sofa. “Sit down.” Blair hesitated. She wouldn’t have very many opportunities to get herself out of this, and she didn’t have much time. Stark lay slumped on the floor just inside the door. Blair couldn’t tell how many times she’d been hit, but a dark pool of blood spread out beneath her body from an obvious bullet wound in her left thigh. She appeared to be unconscious, but Blair wasn’t certain. Dana lay face down where she’d fallen after Matheson had clubbed her. Either one of them could be mortally injured, and she wasn’t going to stand by and watch them die.

As if reading her thoughts, Matheson said, “If you make a move anywhere except where I tell you to move, I’ll shoot one of them.”

“She needs attention,” Blair said, pointing to Stark. “At least let me see if I can slow down the bleeding.”

Matheson didn’t answer as he collected Stark’s gun, tucked it into the waistband at the small of his back, and sidled next to the front window. With his eyes and his gun still on Blair, he felt for the cord and yanked the drapes closed. Then he stepped over Stark and nudged Dana’s shoulder with his boot. When she didn’t respond, he shoved and she rolled onto her back with a groan. Matheson flicked a glance at Blair. “Who’s this?”

Blair said nothing, and Matheson kicked Dana in the ribs. Blair shot forward as Dana moaned. “Leave her alone.”

“I’d stop right there,” Matheson said coldly. He pointed the gun at Dana’s head. “One more step, and I won’t care who she is.”

“She’s a friend of mine.”

“She’s not carrying, so she’s not an agent.” Matheson motioned Blair back to the couch. “Sit down.”

Dana opened her eyes, blinked, and lifted her head enough to look around the room. Her expression darkened when she saw Stark. “Christ.” She pushed herself to her knees, coughed a few times, and finally focused on Matheson. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

He laughed. “Welcome to the party. Who the hell are you?”

“The name’s Barnett.” She glanced at Blair. “I guess he’s not a friend of yours.”

“Not exactly.”

“Letting a federal agent die isn’t a very good idea.” Dana got slowly to her feet, swaying slightly. She pressed a hand to her rib cage. “How about I take a look at her?”

Matheson motioned with his gun toward Stark. “I want you over there anyhow. On the floor, next to her. If you want to put your hand over the hole in her leg, be my guest.”

Dana inched carefully in Stark’s direction, her eyes on Matheson.

Then she knelt and worked her pullover over her head, exposing the white T-shirt she wore underneath. Pressing the balled-up garment against Stark’s thigh, she said, “She’s bleeding at a pretty good clip. How about if I drag her out onto the porch so someone can get her to a medic.” She leveled her gaze at Matheson. “You can watch me through the doorway. If I try to run, you can shoot me.”

“Thanks for the permission. She stays.”

“I’m the one you want,” Blair said. “I’m all you need, and you know it. Let Dana take the agent outside. There’s no reason she has to die.”

“You might be crazy enough to try coming after me,” Matheson said to Blair. “But if you know I’m going to shoot one of your friends if you so much as sneeze wrong, you just might behave. They stay.”

Blair glanced at Dana. “I’m sorry about this.”

“I’m not.” Dana held pressure on Stark’s leg but kept her focus on Matheson. “Look, I’m an investigative reporter. You must have an important story to tell. Why don’t you tell me, starting with what you want.”

Matheson regarded her with interest. “You might be useful, but I’m not sure I’ll be here long enough to tell you the story.” He smiled and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “Ms. Powell and I are going for a ride to meet some of my friends.”

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 705