The gunshot woke her.
Karen Blaine opened her eyes, blinked uncomprehendingly as the big man pitched forward into the room and fell to the floor. There was a man standing in the doorway, but she couldn’t tell who. He looked like a character from a sitcom, some little old man who’s crotchety but kindly and knows more than the kids.
—
TEDDY FAY STEPPED into the room. He knelt by the goon, thrust a gun in his back. The man was clearly dead, but he was still clutching his gun. Teddy wanted to let him keep it. He’d shot the man in the back. It would be important to preserve the scene, to show he’d been about to shoot the girl.
Teddy examined her. Her breath was shallow, her heartbeat weak and thin. He felt her forehead. She was running a high fever. There seemed little chance she’d wake up again anytime soon.
Teddy searched the body. The dead man’s wallet was in his hip pocket. Teddy extracted it with a handkerchief, flipped it open. His driver’s license identified him as James Grogan. He had a couple of credit cards in that name. The papers in his wallet included a tattered Social Security card, but no other personal documents. The rest were all receipts of some kind.
Teddy replaced the wallet. He searched the other pockets and found nothing of interest.
The backpack in the front room held nothing but a T-shirt, socks, underwear, and a box of bullets.
There was a cell phone on the coffee table, which Teddy slipped into his pocket.
He went out on the porch and called Millie Martindale.
“I just hit the jackpot. Twenty-four Maplewood. Get over here fast. When you get close, call for an ambulance. Don’t call Quentin.”
Teddy hung up and called Holly Barker. “I’ve got the girl. The goon who was guarding her is dead.”
“You found Karen Blaine?”
“Yeah.”
“How is she?”
“She’s hurt and sick, but I think she’ll make it. He was about to kill her.”
“How’d you find her?”
“Just dumb luck. There was a guy peeing in front of a cabin. That fit the profile. We wanted a primitive affair with no plumbing or electricity. I snuck up on the place just in time to see him take a gun and head for the back room. I was nearly too late.”
“You shot him?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he have identification?”
“He’s not our guy. He’s white, scruffy-looking.”
“That’s all wrong.”
“This was never what it seemed.”
“Any indication who hired him?”
“None. The guy’s not going to talk, but I doubt if he knew anything.”
“How are you going to handle it?”
“I’m going to let Millie take the credit. I’ll have her call you after I brief her. Car’s coming. Talk to you later.”
Teddy broke the connection just as Millie Martindale drove up. She hopped out of the car and did a double take. She gawked, peered at his face.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” Teddy said. “Give me your gun.”
Millie handed it over.
“Here, take mine.” He gave Millie his gun. “Fire a shot.”
“Where?”
“Where no one will find the bullet. Into the woods.”
Millie aimed away from the cabin, fired a shot.
“Good. Let me have it.”
Teddy took the gun back, slid out the magazine, replaced the bullet, and picked up the ejected shell casing from the ground. He wiped the gun clean of fingerprints and gave it back to her.
“Here you are. Handle it some and put it away. Did you call for an ambulance?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I gotta get out of here. The girl’s on a mattress in the back room. The kidnapper’s lying next to her. He was about to shoot her when you stopped him. If you hadn’t, she’d be dead.”
“I shot him?”
“Yes, you did, and nice work, too. Give me your map.”
“Why?”
“Because this cabin’s not on it.”
Millie handed her map over. “Quentin’s got a map.”
“Get him to ditch it. Call him now and tell him to make himself scarce.”
“What else can I tell him?”
“Anything but the truth. Then call Holly Barker and get your story straight.”
Teddy hopped in his car. As he drove off, he could hear the siren of the ambulance in the distance.