Lila squared off with the shotgun-wielding woman. “Dangerous game you’re playing here.”
One leather-clad shoulder lifted. “I’ve been courting danger the whole of my life, missy.” She jerked her chin at the open doorway behind Lila. “Join your boyfriend.”
The chill from the walk-in cooler buffeted Lila’s back. There was no way in hell she was going to be frozen to death.
“Move.” The shotgun came up. “Or I let my boy have his way with you, and we let lover boy watch. And once he’s finished, he throws your used body in there.”
“He’s not my boyfriend or my lover.”
“Lila,” Lundquist growled.
“You’re a real piece of shit work. What kind of woman threatens sexual violence against another woman?”
Martha Kauffmann’s features turned ugly. “I don’t have to threaten it.” She raised the shotgun to eye level. “But I’m not against just shooting you and letting you suffer a horrible death.”
“And how is freezing to death any better?”
“You have some real sass in you, girl.”
“Must be my Chicago upbringing.”
Lundquist grasped her arm and tugged her back as Karl advanced. Dragging her inside the cooler, Lundquist stepped in front of Lila. Karl smirked as he stood in the doorway.
“This isn’t going to end like you think it will,” Lundquist said. “Sheriff Benoit knows where we are.”
“She’ll be too busy to worry about you two.” Karl’s swing was blinding and landed hard in Lundquist’s gut. With a laugh, he stepped back as Lundquist fell to the floor.
Lila glared at the brute as he sneered at her.
“I’m all up for a good hump.”
“Pay a visit to Rosy Palms and her five sisters. They’re always willing.”
Spitting a cruel word, he slammed the cooler door.
Lila’s body wobbled. If it had come down to it, she would have fought, risking a gut full of buckshot before she let Karl touch her. She slid to her knees next to Lundquist.
He heaved and moaned.
“Breathe through it.”
“I’m tryin’,” he gasped.
Settling her hand on his shoulder, she eased him through the pain. He rolled onto his back and stared up at her.
“Now what?” he asked, his breath a cloud.
She looked around at the steel racks and the packages of food DCI had left in the cooler. No windows. The door was most likely locked. And she’d watched Ma turn the temp down on the thermostat. How long did they have before hypothermia kicked in and weakened them to the point of death?
Ma and Karl had stripped them of their coats, belts, boots, vests, and any device that could be used to free them or alert anyone to their predicament. Left in socks, pants, and their undershirts, the cold would do its damage long before anyone would figure out where they were.
“Why didn’t she just shoot us?”
“It’s a control thing for her.” Lundquist groaned as he sat up. “I don’t think Ma is really keen on watching people die.”
“She just has others, her son in particular, do it for her.” Lila noticed the dark blue ink peeking from under his shirtsleeve. She gently lifted the sleeve, revealing the anchor tattoo. “I thought so.”
He grasped her hand and pulled it down. “We need to figure out how to get out of here.”
“Would it have bothered you if Karl had raped me in front of you?”
“Yes.” He scowled. “Why would you think it wouldn’t?”
She shrugged and backed away. “Isn’t there another son?”
“Stephen.”
“Where is he?”
“Good question.”
But it was Karl’s taunt before he punched Kyle that she couldn’t shake. “What do you think he meant by the sheriff being too busy to worry about us?”
Lundquist winced. “Ma did something to divert attention.”
“Maybe that’s why Brent was shot. To throw us off her trail.”
“What if they shot Ellie? She’d be the only one to remember we’re out here.”
“Didn’t she and Fontaine set up cameras out here?”
“Ma probably disabled them.”
Clambering to her feet, Lila moved to the wall. “This is an exterior wall, right?”
He studied the cooler. “I think so. What are you thinking?”
Lila shivered. Grunting, she shook it off. Grasping the steel racks, she jerked, but they didn’t budge.
“Even if you got them loose, we wouldn’t be able to make a dent in the wall.”
She squatted and examined the base. The rack’s braces were screwed into the cement. She grabbed the leg with both hands and wiggled harder.
Lundquist joined her, squatting down. “Lila, it’s not going to move.”
“Defeatist. Use those Viking muscles and help me. Best-case scenario we keep our bodies warmed up to stave off the hypothermia.”
Shrugging, he wrapped his hands on the bar above hers, and together they worked the metal leg back and forth until there was movement in one of the screws.
“Keep going,” she hissed.
A clatter at the door jolted them to a stop. Standing, they turned as the door suddenly opened. Ma barged in, shoved a shocked Lundquist aside, and grabbed Lila by the hair, dragging her out.
Lila cried out, slapping at the woman’s hands as she tried not to trip with her body bent over at an awkward angle. She glimpsed Lundquist trying to make a break for the door as Ma pulled Lila through it, but a weapon was rammed into Lundquist’s face and the door slammed shut.
“Shut up!” Ma barked, and then flung Lila forward, releasing her hair.
Unable to stop her momentum, Lila landed on the meth lab floor and slid across the smooth surface. Shockwaves reverberated through her, piercing her scars. Curling into a ball, she swallowed the cries.
“I’ll shoot her.”
Peeling open an eyelid, Lila found the shotgun barrel pointed at her head, Ma towering over her.
“Martha, that’s not why I’m here, and you know it.”
Bile pooled in Lila’s throat. That snake oil salesman voice. She tilted her head back and sighted the man ten feet away.
Sheehan.
“I warned you, Kelley. You had your chance. It’s too late.”
“And you think threatening to kill that outsider in front of me makes a bit of difference?”
“I can make it look like you did it.”
Sheehan shook his head and chuckled. “You really have lost your grip.” His eyes narrowed. “They warned me to keep an eye on you. Told me you were going senile in your old age.”
“Lies. Malicious lies to turn us against each other.”
Sheehan looked at someone off to Ma’s left. “Tell me, Martha, have you ever worked it out how and why Daniel really died?”
The shotgun lifted from Lila’s head. “Say another word and I’ll fill you so full of lead, you’ll look like ground meat.”
“You don’t have the stomach,” Sheehan taunted.
A creak echoed through the building, and a door slapped shut.
“What is he doing here?”
“Stephen, perfect timing, baby.”
Lila scooted a little bit by little bit away from Ma so as to not draw attention to herself. The young man who emerged from the back of the meth lab brought Lila’s progress to a halt. He moved with a swagger that didn’t match his stick-thin frame. His reptilian eyes darted about the area, falling on Lila.
He paused. “Who is she?”
Ma’s head snapped to Lila. “She’s the sheriff’s new investigator.”
“Investigator,” he repeated, his voice dropping into a frosty tone.
“Stephen, are you bleeding?” Ma asked.
Lila swallowed, her arms shaking. Stephen’s clothing was covered in blood.
He lifted his jacket away from the speckled mess that was his shirt. A cruel smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “Naw. Mama, this isn’t my blood.”
“What did you do?” Ma’s voice rasped.
Karl’s laughter bounced off the walls. “Like you don’t know.”
“Shut up, you damn fool,” Ma screeched.
Karl kept laughing until she walked over and slapped his face.
Sheehan clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Stephen is the one who shot Joel Fontaine. Oh my, Martha, you just set off a fuse.”
“You idiot! If Rafe figures it out, he’s going to be all over us like a hound of hell.”
Lila jolted at the violent crack of Stephen’s fist smashing into his mother’s jaw. She scrambled back as Martha careened around and hit the floor, the shotgun clattering out of her reach.
“Wrong choice of words, Mama.” Stephen stepped over his mother’s trembling body and picked up the shotgun. “Now”—he swung the barrel in Sheehan’s direction—“what were you going to tell my mother about my dearly departed brother’s death?”
Sheehan slowly lifted his hands. “Nothing she hasn’t already figured out on her own.”
“And what is it exactly that you’ve figured out, Mama?”
Martha scrabbled away from her son. “Nothing,” she croaked.
Sniffing, Stephen jabbed the shotgun into Sheehan’s stomach. “Poor Daniel. Got too smart for his own good.”
“Always knew to keep an eye on you,” Sheehan sneered.
Keeping an eye on the shotgun-wielding teen, Lila crawled over to Martha’s side and touched the woman’s bruised cheek. The Kauffmann matriarch peered up at the brush of Lila’s fingertips. Abstract fear filled the woman’s eyes, setting Lila back on her knees.
“I have never liked you, Kelley.” Stephen moved toward Lila. “Your agreement with Mama ends today.” Like his mother, Stephen reached out and snagged Lila’s hair and wrenched her to her feet.
Biting her tongue to quell the cries of pain, she stumbled over Martha’s prone body. Claws bared, she scratched the back of his hand. He gave her a violent jerk, her neck muscles tearing as her face lifted to meet his.
“The older girl tried to fight back, fancied herself some kind of martial artist. Her neck snapped like a twig.”
His taunt broke through the thin wall of fear she’d let build. This was the type of person she had trained herself to fight back against. His kind had been the one to attack when her guard was down, ripped her career out from under her, and left her to die.
Psychos like Stephen Kauffmann would never harm her again.
She stared into his cold, lifeless eyes, and it all clicked into place. He had killed his brother—why, only he knew—killed the trio of thieves, threw Neva McKinnley down her basement steps, and shot Brent.
“It’s been you all along.”
“It appears the sheriff was wise in choosing you as her investigator. Her wisdom will be your undoing.”
Lila’s mind raced with how to free herself and disarm him before he could shoot her or break her neck. The only logical one demanded she go straight for his throat.
“Stephen, baby, this isn’t you,” Ma pleaded.
His derisive laugh reverberated through Lila’s head. So reminiscent of her attacker’s it made her want to vomit. How could two different people be so alike?
“Oh, I’ve always been this way. You were too stupid and blind to see it. But that was what made it all together perfect.” Stephen waved the barrel of the shotgun. “Get up and join your partner, Mama.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Lila watched Martha gingerly rise from the floor and shuffle over next to Sheehan. Gone was the sadistic woman who threatened to have her son rape another woman. Cowed and bruised by one of her own, Martha Kauffmann looked every bit her age and more.
“By now the sheriff has pieced it all together,” Sheehan broke in. “If I were you, Stephen, I’d be hightailing it out of here. She’s going to be coming with a full force behind her.”
“Karl,” Stephen barked. “Get the other prisoner.”
“Karl. Stay where you are.”
Lila smiled at that voice of an angel. She glimpsed Sheriff Benoit behind Stephen, her weapon leveled on his torso.
“Release my deputy, Stephen.”
“You brought them here,” Stephen spit at Sheehan.
He remained silent, only lifting his hands higher in surrender.
“Put the shotgun down and release my deputy,” Benoit ordered.
Stephen jerked Lila closer, jamming the barrel into her stomach.
“Give me a reason to put you down.” Fontaine’s deep growl came from somewhere behind Lila.
“This will not end how you think it should, Sheriff.” Stephen rotated, dragging Lila around. “You are tangling with forces that will see you torn to pieces and scattered to the far corners of this county.”
“I assure you, son, I’m fully aware of that, and I don’t plan on allowing them, or you, any part of me and my own.”
Lila felt the vibrations in Stephen’s body. He was making a decision, and it wasn’t a good one. Her time to act was now, and it was going to hurt like a mother. With his focus on the sheriff, Lila twisted away, the hunks of her hair wrapped in his fingers ripping free.
Spinning on the balls of her feet, she brought her left fist around and punched him hard in the kidney. The pain would be instantaneous, creating a paralyzing effect on his body. His mouth gaping, his legs buckled; he was going down. Before Lila could react, Sheehan shot forward, grabbing the shotgun from Stephen’s slackening hand and tugging away the gun. Stephen hit the floor on his knees, gasping and moaning.
Sheehan leveled the shotgun on Ma. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” He gave Lila a nod to proceed.
Lila stepped behind Stephen’s quaking form and bent down near his ear. “Hey, tough guy, Regan might have fancied herself a martial artist, but I’m actually trained to kick your ass.” She held out her hand. “Cuffs.”
The warm steel clanked in her hand. As she brought Stephen’s arm around, he collapsed face forward. Lila cuffed him and left him writhing on the floor.
Assured that all were covered, Lila ran for the cooler. As she passed Karl, he reached back and grabbed her arm. He was swinging her around, most likely to use as a hostage, but Lila was having none of it.
Using the energy of him trying to right his body and drag her in front of him, she kicked her leg out and swept his braced leg out from under him. Like all great trees, he went down hard, dragging her with him. Aiming her elbow, she rammed it into his breastbone as she landed on him. His head cracked against the cement, and his grip loosened. Lila rolled off him and stood.
“Keep this trash away from me,” she said to Fitzgerald and stalked over to the cooler.
Jerking the door open, she let it fly back. Lundquist, shivering, sat on the floor by the door. She held out her hand to him. With a shaking hand, he took hers, and she helped him out of the cooler.
“Took you long enough,” he stuttered.
“Tell them.” She nodded at their fellow deputies and the sheriff.
“We’re here now,” Sheriff Benoit said. “Let’s wrap this mess up.”