Page 64 of High Country Escape

“No one has come this way,” Aaron said.

“Ride with me,” Travis said.

Aaron exited his SUV and came around to the passenger side of Travis’s truck. He brought the rifle with him. Travis said nothing, merely waited until Aaron had shut the door and secured the rifle, then the truck rolled forward. Lights came up behind them. “Gage is back there with Ryker, with Shane and Jake behind them,” Travis said. “I’ve got a SWAT unit out of Junction on call if things get hairy, but I’m hoping we can go in and arrest him without much trouble.”

They approached the truck and trailer and Travis switched off his headlights. The others did the same. They parked side by side across the entrance to the clearing, blocking the exit. Then they got out of their vehicles, moving as silently as possible in the darkness.

Travis took out a microphone. “William Ledger!” he said, his amplified voice filling the clearing. “This is the Rayford County Sheriff’s Department. We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up.”

No answer. The silence stretched until Aaron thought his nerves would snap. He wiped his damp palms on his thighs andstared at the door of the trailer, willing it to open, yet fearful of what would happen when it did.

“William Ledger,” Travis said again. “Come out now, with your hands up.”

They had three spotlights trained on the trailer, so everyone saw when the door began to ease open. “Don’t shoot me!” a plaintive voice called.

“We won’t shoot,” Travis said. “Put your hands on top of your head and walk out slowly.”

The door opened wider and a small woman—not even five feet tall, with short hair that looked black in this light, descended the steps. Her face was streaked with tears. “You have to help him,” she wailed. “I’m afraid he’s dying.”

Travis and Aaron moved in to take the woman by the arms. Aaron cuffed her hands behind her back. She didn’t resist, merely stood between them, sobbing. “Who’s dying?” Travis asked.

“Billy! He’s hurt. He’s in the trailer and there’s so much blood.”

They passed the woman over to Shane and Jake and, with Ryker and Gage, approached the trailer. At a signal from the sheriff, Ryker and Jake moved around to the back of the trailer. Travis and Aaron positioned themselves on either side of the front door. Travis reached over to pound on the door. “This is the sheriff! Open up!”

No answer. Travis tried again, but still no response. His shoulder-mounted radio crackled and Jake said. “I can see in the back window,” he said. “Someone’s lying on the floor. He looks to be in bad shape.”

“Ten-four.” Travis looked to Aaron. “On three.”

Travis counted down, then together, they burst through the door into chaos.

The first thing Aaron noticed was the blood. The air reeked of it, the metallic aroma overcoming even the funk of cigarette smoke. The carpet around the door was wet with it. A man lay on his back in the middle of the floor. He was clutching his face and moaning. The three deputies and Travis descended on him. Aaron helped roll the man on his side and cuff his hands. His fingers and wrists were slippery with blood, and it took several tries to secure him.

Ledger—Aaron was sure it was Ledger—thrashed and wailed. “My eye!” he cried. “My eye!”

Travis keyed his mic. “We need an ambulance,” he said, and relayed their location. Meanwhile, Ryker shone a flashlight at Ledger’s bloody face. His left eyelid was closed and swollen shut, though blood continued to seep from beneath it. “What happened?” Travis asked.

Ledger’s only answer was a sound like a wounded animal.

Travis crouched in front of Ledger. “We have an ambulance on the way,” he said. “I need you to tell me where Roxanne Byrne is.”

“I don’t know a Roxanne,” Ledger said.

“Mary,” Aaron said. “Where is Mary?”

“She’s dead!” Ledger roared. The two words echoed in the silence that followed.

“How did she die?” Travis asked, his voice tight.

“I killed her.”

“What did you do with her body?” Travis asked.

“I burned it. And I buried the ashes. You’ll never find her.”

Aaron’s mouth was dry. His throat burned. “Who did that to your eye?” he asked.

Ledger turned to him, face mottled red and white, the grotesque, weeping eye giving him the appearance of a gargoyle. “She got what she deserved,” he said.