22

 

Ellie sat at her desk and ran it over again and again in her mind. Daddy said he didn’t blame you. He said it wasn’t your fault. How could a six-year-old know the guilt Ashley felt? He was three years old when he was taken from her car. What does a child know about guilt? The knot in her chest told her to believe…just believe. Even her gut instinct was telling her to believe. There was absolutely no medical explanation for Landon even being alive. The only logical explanation was the one thing she couldn’t admit. It was a miracle. A true miracle in every sense of the word. Through all the years in church, all the years hearing her father preach the Word, she had never felt as close to God as she felt now. So why was she still filled with so much doubt?

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Jesse asked, interrupting her thoughts. He was sitting in the visitor’s chair, his elbows propped on her desk. “The roads may still be in pretty bad shape up that way.”

Reminded of the evil that was Jerome Kenton, Ellie pushed the thoughts of God and miracles from her mind. “The roads are fine,” Ellie reassured Jesse. “I didn’t have any trouble yesterday. Besides, you need to get back up to the hospital and go over witness procedures with Ashley. I don’t want her to think it’s the end of it when they walk out of the hospital.”

“You think Deveraux’s going to release him that quick?”

“Not until they get the DNA results back, which he’s rushed. But I just want her to be prepared.”

“And tell me again why you’re going back to Avery County to interview Kenton? I hate to tell you, sweetcakes, but we really don’t have a dog in this fight.”

Ellie stared at him. “What do you mean we don’t have a dog in this fight? Landon was dumped in our jurisdiction.”

Jesse laughed. “You’re right, he was dumped. After he was in a bad car accident. Kenton didn’t beat him to death in that alley. And he was kidnapped in Mecklenburg County. And the whole missing wife thing, that’s in Avery County. Our charges are going to be pretty low on the totem pole.”

The charges in their jurisdiction didn’t really matter. She just wanted to be there when Brady Mitchell questioned him again.

“You’re still going, aren’t you?”

She looked at Jesse and grinned. “Do you really have to ask?”

He sighed. “I just don’t like you going by yourself.”

His concern was flattering. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I won’t be by myself. Brady Mitchell’s bringing him in.”

“Hmph. Brady Mitchell should have retired ten years ago.”

Ellie glared at him, her jaw hanging open. “And how do you know Brady Mitchell? No, don’t answer that. I don’t even want to know.” She shook her head, unbelieving.

 

****

 

“I’m happy for you. Real happy for the little fella and his momma, too,” Brady Mitchell said as he settled into his SUV. Ellie climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt.

“It was a pretty emotional scene. If Jerome Kenton had been standing in front of me, I’d have choked him.”

Mitchell laughed. “You’ll get your chance. Not to choke him, but at least to formally question him.”

“I appreciate you letting me tag along, considering the charges I have against him are pretty minor compared to yours and Mecklenburg County’s.”

Mitchell slowly nodded, knowingly. Letting her know he understood the craving to finish a job whether you had a dog in the fight or not. “I hope we’re wrong about Becky,” he said, his voice solemn. “But I don’t think we are.”

Ellie stared out the window at the passing snow-covered landscape. She hoped they were wrong, too. Not just for Becky’s sake, but for Landon’s, too. Although Becky had no right to him, she was kind to him. It made the pain and suffering of his abduction a little easier to swallow.

“What are we going to do if Kenton doesn’t want to come down to the station?”

“He’ll come. He’s got all the answers, remember?” Mitchell said. “He’ll be anxious to share ‘em.”

The main roads had been pretty clear, but the road leading to Kenton’s was still almost impassable. Mitchell shifted into four-wheel drive and crept forward in the snow. He carefully moved around a mail carrier’s truck stopped at one of the mailboxes. Mitchell threw up his hand and waved and the carrier nodded. The guy didn’t look like he was enjoying his job very much. “Rain, snow, sleet, or hail,” Mitchell said and chuckled.

The closer they got to Kenton’s, the more knots Ellie could count in her stomach. She was already having to remind herself to breathe. She rolled her shoulders, releasing the tension, then reached around behind her and pulled the pistol from her waistband. She checked the clip then patted her jacket pocket for the extra. Mitchell glanced at her and grinned.

“You plan on shooting someone?” He chuckled.

“Only if I have to.”

He slowly nodded, still grinning. “Ever fired it?”

“Sure.” The gun was incredibly heavy in her hand.

“Outside the shooting range?”

She glared at him hard then rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know I shot a perfect score.”

Mitchell eased into Kenton’s driveway. “Well, hopefully we won’t mess up your perfect record.”

She could feel the bile churning in her stomach, her heart racing. “Yeah, let’s hope so.”

Mitchell parked about halfway up the drive and cut off the engine. “We’re just going to talk to him, Ellie. No matter how bad you want to string him up, our mission is to get him to come down to the station for an interview. Hopefully before he lawyers up.”

He reached for the door but Ellie grabbed his arm. “You have your gun, right?”

Mitchell reached in across her and popped open the glove compartment. “Sure. I’ve got it. It’s right there.”

“You’re not going to carry it?” Her eyes were wide, the fear suddenly gripping her as tight as her grip on the door handle.

Mitchell shook his head. He got out of the vehicle. “You coming or am I going to have to do this interview alone?” he asked before he closed the door.

Ellie took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She’d done hundreds of interviews like this before, carted many off to the jail. Why was this one different? Why was that butterfly in her stomach fluttering like a two-ton elephant? God…if you’re listening…

The sun glistening off the snow cast a painful white glow. Kenton’s new truck was parked where it had been the other day, and judging by the untouched snow around it, it hadn’t been moved.

Ellie joined Mitchell and headed toward the house. “Since you’re a bundle of nerves, why don’t you let me do the talking,” he said, winking at her.

“I’m not nervous. I’m perfectly calm.” They were about twenty yards from the porch and that elephant in her stomach started doing somersaults. She stuffed her hands in her pockets to hide the trembling.

Mitchell chuckled and turned to smile at her.

Suddenly, Ellie heard the ear-shattering pop. Blood spattered against the freshly fallen snow, turning it bright crimson.

“Brady!”

Ellie hit the ground hard, covering her head, scrambling to get to Brady. Another blast tore through the deafening silence. “Oh, God…Oh, God…Oh, God, help me!” she prayed.

Brady was on his back, a stream of blood seeping from underneath him. He was wide-eyed, blinking furiously, and wheezing for breath. Ellie stared at the hole in his side. “Hang in there, Brady…hang in there.”

Tears stung her eyes, her fear beyond reason. She jerked her cell phone from her pocket and hurriedly punched in 911. There was no familiar dial tone. There was nothing. There wasn’t even a dispatch radio in the Expedition!

Brady moaned and tried to speak, but Ellie shushed him. “You’re not going to die on me, Brady Mitchell.” But she knew if she didn’t get him help and get it soon, he would die on her, and if Jerome Kenton had his way, she’d die too.

Brady shook his head. “Listen,” he said, his voice a shallow whisper. “Listen.”

Ellie tried but couldn’t hear anything above her heart thundering in her ears.

“Did you hear the click? He’s out of bullets.” Each word was wrapped in a noisy breath. “The truck hasn’t been moved.”

Ellie stared at the little house, the shattered front window where the shots had come from. She wanted Jerome Kenton more than anything, but she couldn’t leave Brady. Not like this. Not to die alone. There was no way to know for sure if he was out of ammo, and she couldn’t risk a stand-off. If she were to get into a stand-off with Kenton, all he’d have to do was wait it out—there was no help coming and Brady would certainly die right there in Kenton’s front yard.

She had to get help, and she was running out of time. She looked over at the shiny new truck and rusted grill under the little carport. The propane tank was still attached to the grill. Had God really heard her prayer? Could there still be gas in it?

With every ounce of strength she had in her, she wedged her arms under Brady’s shoulders and pulled as hard as she could, dragging him backwards toward his SUV. He groaned in pain as she tugged at him again and again. “Hang in there, Brady. Hang with me, man.”

Ellie dragged Brady’s dead weight until they were behind the vehicle and near the road. With one final heave, she fell backwards, exhausted, every muscle in her body crying in pain. She frantically wiggled out from under Brady and crawled over him, keeping an eye on the house. She heard noises, snow crunching under foot and suddenly, she spotted Kenton running from the back of the house toward the little shed.

Ellie covered Brady as best she could with her own body then drew her gun and sited the propane tank, blinking away the tears so she could see. She took a deep breath to steady her hands. One shot and the tank exploded into an orange ball of fire, flames shooting a hundred feet into the air, blowing the carport and truck into giant shards of flying metal. There was no way the mail carrier they had passed earlier could miss the fireball now raging.

Ellie scrambled over Brady then crawled to the Expedition and slid in, grabbing his gun from the glove compartment. Unless the shed had a back door, Kenton was still in it. She dropped Brady’s gun in her pocket then crouched beside the rear quarter panel to catch her breath. With her pistol in her hand, she gave another quick peek at the shed then burst into a full run toward the house. She crouched for cover at the porch, gasping for breath. The air was frigid and burnt her lungs as she sucked it deeply in. “Jerome,” she yelled as loudly as she could. The sound echoed in the stillness, reverberating off the snow-laden trees. “Jerome,” she yelled again. “I know why you did what you did with JJ. You had no choice.”

Despite the freezing air and wet clothes, sweat trickled from her brow, dripping into her eyes. The sun glaring off the snow was blinding enough. She quickly wiped her brow and squinted. “You had no choice, Jerome. You couldn’t take him to the hospital. There’d be too many questions.”

“You don’t know nothing!” Kenton said, his voice faint but angry. He was still in the shed.

Ellie’s eyes followed the trail of blood where Brady had fallen to where he lay at the edge of the driveway. Black plumes of smoke from the burning truck rose high into the pale colored sky. Help would be coming soon. She peeked around the edge of the house at the shed, took a deep breath then sprinted as hard as her legs would go toward the shed. She dove under the lean-to and rolled quickly into a crouch against the wooden wall. Her heart felt like it was going to explode and shatter her chest like the carport had when it blew apart. “Jerome, I know it was an accident. I know you didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”

She heard rustling in the shed and waited to hear the sound of Kenton reloading but it never came. He is out of bullets. She slowly stood and pressed her back against the wall, terrified to move, terrified not to. “Jerome…JJ’s alive. He told us everything. He told us how Becky loved him and how good she was to him.”

“She wouldn’t shut up. She wouldn’t stop screaming.”

By the sound of his voice, he wasn’t deep into the shed. He was close. The only thing separating them was the rickety wooden wall.

Slowly, she moved one foot in front of the other as quietly as she could.

All of a sudden, she was knocked backwards, completely off her feet as Kenton plowed into her head-first, slamming her hard into an old tractor. Her gun spiraled through the air. A white-hot pain shot through her whole body as she felt her left arm snap below the elbow. She grabbed for it, screaming in agony, but Kenton slammed her head hard against the cold metal. He pounded at her face with brutal fists then drove them deep into her stomach. She tasted blood, her own blood, and wondered how often Becky Kenton had tasted her own blood.

With a fury fueled by adrenaline and anger, Ellie kicked furiously at him with the strength of a kick boxer and landed a strong blow to his crotch.

Kenton spiraled backwards, giving her just enough time to scramble away from the brutality. Her head spinning with pain, she fell to her knees and clutched her arm then tried to crawl to safety. Kenton was on her again. He drove her face deep into the snow as he pummeled the back of her head, handfuls of her hair wrapped around his fingers. She bucked like a wild horse until he jerked her over onto her back, the pain raging in her arm so intense she feared passing out. He drew back his fist, her face the target, but she wrestled out from under him and drove both her feet deep into his chest. She reached for Brady’s gun in her jacket pocket... Please, God, let it be loaded...

Kenton regained his footing and towered over her. When he saw the gun, he grinned and the evilness in him sent shivers down her spine. “You ain’t got it in you.” He smirked.

Ellie pulled the trigger.