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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

G avin raced through the trees separating Claire’s cabin from Maribelle’s. Rain pelted his head, the water running in rivets down the back of his collar to chill his skin. Branches tugged at his clothes. His breath came in puffs, the frigid air shocking his lungs. Beside him, Claire kept pace. Her weapon was drawn and ready.

The cabin’s lights were on. The back door swung open in the wind before slamming shut again, as if by an invisible hand. Pieces of the knob were scattered on the concrete. Xavier must’ve broken it while forcing his way inside. Gavin positioned himself next to the door, his boots sliding from the mud trapped in their treads.

Claire peeked in a window. Her wet hair was plastered to her head. She wasn’t wearing a coat. Mud spatters painted her tennis shoes and the bottoms of her yoga pants. She dipped down next to Gavin, the scent of her citrus perfume mixing with the smell of the rain. “I don’t see anyone in the living room.”

Gavin adjusted his hold on the weapon in his hand. His gaze skimmed the road leading to the cabin. Where was the trooper assigned to watch the property? He should be here by now. They’d called for backup before leaving Claire’s house.

“I don’t like this.” It felt like they were walking into a trap.

A scream came from inside. It was terror-filled and shrill. A fresh wave of adrenaline burst through Gavin’s veins as the sound suddenly cut off. He sprang to his feet. There was no choice. Trap or no trap, they had to go in.

He grabbed the broken back door and burst into the house, gun raised. “Police! Put your weapons down and your hands in the air!”

Sounds came from the rear of the cabin. A man’s voice was yelling, but Gavin couldn’t make out the words. He raced across the tiny living room toward the hallway. Through the open door of the bedroom, he saw Xavier standing over Maribelle, beating her with the butt of a gun.

“Police!” Gavin shouted, aiming his weapon at the criminal. “Freeze!”

Xavier whirled, his own weapon raised. Gavin shoved Claire to the side just as a bullet flew into the molding near his head. Several more bullets followed. A fiery blaze streaked into Gavin’s shoulder and he cried out as his hand went numb. His weapon clattered to the floor.

Warmth ran down his arm as blood bloomed on his shirt. He’d been shot. Claire grabbed him and pulled him farther out of range. Gavin shook off her aid. There wasn’t time. He scooped up his weapon and held it with his left hand. He wasn’t proficient at shooting with his weaker hand by any measure, but being unarmed wasn’t an option.

Claire positioned herself near the hallway. “Xavier, put your gun down and your hands in the air! Now!”

Where was their backup? Something must’ve happened to the trooper. That thought terrified Gavin. Ryker was on his way with more law enforcement officers, but they were likely still several minutes away.

Maribelle moaned. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed. Claire’s face flushed, but the hand holding her weapon was steady. Gavin peeked around the corner to see Xavier holding his wife up as a shield. Her head lolled. She was bleeding badly from a wound on her scalp.

Xavier raised his gun, pointing it at Claire. “Stay back. I ain’t going to prison, Sheriff.”

Oh yes, you are. Gavin gritted his teeth. It was either prison or Xavier was going to meet his maker. There were only two ways out of this situation.

“We can discuss it when you put your weapon down.”

He laughed. It sounded manic and desperate. “How stupid do you think I am?” Xavier stepped back into the bedroom, dragging Maribelle with him. She moaned, and he gripped her tighter, shaking her slightly. “Who is setting me up, you dumb cow? Who is it?”

What was he talking about? Gavin cleared the thought from his mind, along with the pain of his gunshot wound, and took aim. If he could just…

Xavier shifted, and the moment was gone. Sweat dripped into Gavin’s eyes. He didn’t have a clear shot, but there was more than one way to solve that problem. He locked eyes with Claire, pointed at Xavier, and then pointed at the door. She gave a sharp nod of agreement. The worry in her blue eyes nearly undid him. It wasn’t for herself. For him.

Somewhere in the back corner of his mind, Gavin realized an additional weight rested on his shoulders. Every decision he made from here on out affected Claire. It wouldn’t stop him from doing his job—protecting others was his purpose—but it was a deep responsibility to carry someone else’s heart. And a blessing.

Gavin bolted for the back door. Pain punched his arm with every step. He ignored it. Outside, the icy rain numbed his wound. The thunderstorm slowed to a brisk drizzle. Lightning lit up the sky. He raced around the corner of the cabin and approached the bedroom window. Xavier was screaming something at Claire. It didn’t make sense. Something about being framed.

Shivers racked Gavin’s body as he took aim. He forced his muscles to stop and held his breath. Everything faded away as the world narrowed to the man in front of him. Gavin didn’t relish shooting someone, but he would do what was necessary to save lives. He pulled the trigger.

Glass shattered as the bullet flew through the window and slammed into Xavier’s back. Maribelle gave a short scream as the couple tumbled to the ground. Claire rushed into the room, gun drawn. She kicked Xavier’s weapon away from his still fingers. Gavin tossed his handcuffs to her before clambering through the window. Shards of glass sliced at his palm.

Maribelle was tucked into a corner, moaning. Gavin approached her. “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”

She sobbed and grabbed his arm. He comforted the older woman, glancing over Maribelle’s head toward Claire. She had her fingers on Xavier’s throat, checking for a pulse.“He’s alive.”

Relief rippled through Gavin. He didn’t regret taking the shot, but he was thankful it hadn’t ended Xavier’s life. He fumbled to remove his phone from his pocket but couldn’t make his injured fingers work. Maribelle was crying, lost in her own world, her gaze focused on something only she could see. She was going into shock. That was deadly. They needed paramedics. Now.

Claire whipped the sheet off the bed and pushed it against Xavier’s gunshot wound. “Gavin, come hold this while I call for help.”

He did as she asked. The sheet turned red with Xavier’s blood. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he remained unconscious. Gavin’s head spun as the adrenaline wore off and the throbbing of his wound increased. He glanced at his shirt. It was saturated at the shoulder, but it didn’t look like the bullet had hit anything major.

Claire tucked her phone against her ear. She took another sheet and ripped it with her teeth. Wrapping the bandage around Gavin’s arm, she pulled tight as she spouted off commands to dispatch. Keith’s voice came on the line. His tone was frantic, but his words weren’t clear. Gavin leaned in closer.

Claire froze. The phone dropped from her ear as she whirled. Without a word, she raced from the room. Gavin yelled her name and then scooped up the phone. “Keith, what happened?”

“An emergency call was made from her parents’ house. They’re under attack.”

The house was on fire.

Claire’s heart thundered in her chest as she raced toward the flames. The entire living room was ablaze, smoke belching from the broken windows. Arson. Probably a Molotov cocktail, maybe two. There was no other explanation for how the fire could spread so quickly during a rainstorm.

Panic rippled through her. Where was Jacob? Her parents? Visions of every horrible scenario flashed through her mind. No, God, no. She put more fuel into her legs, wishing Gavin was with her. The memory of him screaming her name as she ran from Maribelle’s cabin echoed in her mind. But there hadn’t been time to explain. Besides, he’d been shot. The injury was serious enough to slow him down, even if he’d wanted to help.

Thinking of Gavin made her knees weak. His shoulder had been bleeding badly. What if…No, she couldn’t go down that road.

Raindrops coated her face and dripped into her eyes. Her tennis shoes slipped in the mud and she hit the ground hard on one knee. Pain ricocheted through her thigh. Claire shoved herself to a standing position and kept moving.

The back door to the house flew open. Smoke poured out and two figures appeared. It took Claire a moment to recognize her mother and father. A bruise and dried blood painted Lindsey’s temple. Daniel had one arm thrown over his wife’s shoulders. His other hand clutched his side. Blood stained his shirt. He took another step and collapsed on the patio, nearly taking Lindsey down with him.

“Dad!” Chest heaving, Claire joined her parents. She bent down to grab her father’s arm. Together with Lindsey, they got him on his feet. Instinctively, Claire knew her mother was headed for the truck sitting in the driveway. Daniel needed a hospital. They headed in that direction.

“There’s no time.” Daniel's voice was hoarse as he tried to shake off Claire’s help. “He has Jacob.”

Claire’s world tilted and spun. “Who?”

“We don’t know. Someone threw bombs through the window and set the house on fire. I tried to stop him and was shot. He ripped Jacob straight from your mother’s arms.”

Tears poured down Lindsey's face, mixing with the soot and blood. Based on her mother’s injuries, she fought to keep hold of Jacob. It was a miracle the intruder hadn’t shot her too.

Claire didn’t stop moving. She opened the passenger side of the truck and shoved her dad inside. “Which direction did the attacker go in?”

“Toward the dock.”

She didn’t think. Slamming the truck door, Claire spun toward the lake. It was a dark shadow. The long dock extending into the water wasn’t visible, the moon obscured by the thunderstorm’s cloud cover. She took off.

Jacob, hold on, baby. I’m coming.

Her heart said prayers even as her mind focused on rescuing her child. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The dock came into view. A boat bobbed on the water, secured by a rope to a mooring pole. Claire ducked into the tree line. She couldn’t save Jacob by acting recklessly. Now was the time to rely on her training.

Moving closer, using the trees as cover, her gaze swept the area. A small form lying in the middle of the dock caught her attention. Jacob! He was motionless.

Dead? Her heart threatened to splinter in two. No, it couldn’t be. She forced the devastating thought aside and focused on the task at hand. Getting to her son.

There was no way to reach him without exposing herself. Claire knew it was a trap. A sniper with a night vision scope would have no trouble killing her. There could be one on the boat. She should wait for backup. It had to be moments away. But what if Jacob was injured? Bleeding out? It was a risk Claire wasn’t willing to take.

She burst from the tree line, keeping her head up, searching for any potential danger. Her feet pounded against the wooden dock. The injury from her earlier fall throbbed. She counted the distance in heartbeats, anticipating the crack of a gun followed by the fire of a bullet blazing through her. Jacob came into sharper focus. His eyes were closed.

Claire dropped to her knees beside him. Her fingers were numb from the cold. She couldn’t tell if Jacob was breathing. The memory of finding Faye on the side of the road flashed in her mind. No, please, no.

With a shaking hand, she touched the smooth column of Jacob’s throat. A steady beat thumped against her fingers. Alive. He was alive. Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Thank you, God.”

There was no way to carry Jacob while holding her gun. Claire shoved it into the back of her pants and slipped her hands under her son. Lifting him into her arms, she leaned on her knees in preparation to stand, ignoring the screaming pain from her swelling knee. They needed to get off this dock.

A noise scraped against the dock one second before the barrel of a gun pushed against the back of Claire’s head. She froze.

“Hello, Sheriff. I’ve been waiting for you.”