They rented two motel rooms at a bargain rate. Morgan had tried to haggle gently, but Mason had been the one to threaten him. He said that he’d report him for working alongside a known killer, and that’d be the end of his business, if not his freedom.
The clerk had softened then.
After that, they’d split into their separate groups—Morgan and Gary in one room, Mason and Bill in the other. It didn’t take too long to dump their bags and gather in one room, but Morgan found that fatigue was hitting him hard, grinding away on his conscious mind. And that was before they’d made a plan. Hell, it was before they’d even started.
“I say we rush her,” Mason offered.
“And risk her hurting my son?” Morgan brushed past him and went to the window. Pulling aside the curtain, he watched a passing car slow down, linger, and then drive on. They thought better of staying in a seedy motel, he guessed. “We need to be more tactical.”
“That’s why I suggested two teams of two,” Bill said. “One on each door.”
Morgan didn’t turn around. “I’m not sure there’s a second door.”
“I saw one,” from Mason.
They all fell silent. Gary crossed the room and flopped onto the bed, resting his head on interlaced fingers. The grunt he made sounded like both exhaustion and frustration. “We have three cops, three guns, and the only one who can’t shoot wants to pull the trigger.”
Morgan frowned. Had he really said aloud that he wanted to shoot Erika? Of course he had, but did he mean it? When he’d promised to make her pay, he’d had an arrest and maybe a backhanded slap in mind, but not this. Although it wasn’t as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him—each time he thought of Robin in Erika’s arms, a rage that he could only be described as white-hot took control of him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“We’ll get to that,” Mason said. “For now, we need to hear from Morgan.”
“What about me?”
“Robin is your son. We’re all dying to hear you. Care to weigh in?”
Sighing, Morgan dropped the curtain and turned around. It wasn’t until now that he felt lucky to have so many people willing to put their jobs and lives on the line for him. It made him feel endlessly grateful, but also a little selfish. He soothed his ego by reminding himself that if it weren’t for Robin, he wouldn’t be accepting such an offer. The fact was, he needed the help.
“What was it you said about teams of two?”
Bill stepped forward, tipped a vase of decorative marbles onto the bed by Gary’s feet, and split them apart. “We approach from here. This is you and your friend. This is me and Mason. The cabin is this big blob of blue. What we need to do is breach at the same time. It’ll knock her off guard and should cause a moment of hesitation. That should give us just enough time to take her down.”
“Should?” Morgan asked. He didn’t like the word.
“And why are we paired up like that?” Gary said.
“Because we trust each other more like that.”
“And I suppose I’m leading with the gun.”
Bill tossed the last marble onto the bed and held his head. “Don’t be a child.”
“I’m not being a child. I’m just saying—”
“And saying it is pointless,” Mason weighed in.
“Fine then, we’ll switch teams.”
Morgan zoned out as they squabbled like schoolkids. The more they spoke, the less he trusted them, and that made him more nervous. Each protest built up his anxiety, it rose like lava from a volcano. He stormed out before he could explode, sucking in the cool air and trying to breathe as he paced.
My son is in danger, he thought, and they’re just fighting.
It drained his last few ounces of hope.
The door behind him creaked open, and Mason appeared, finding him at once. He shut the door and made his way over, hands splayed in an apologetic gesture. “It’s always hard to manage a team like that,” he said. “Your friend cares, I care, and Bill… well, he’s Bill.”
“That’s not very assuring,” Morgan spat.
“It’s all I’ve got. Just remember we’re all here to help.”
“Well, it doesn’t feel like it.”
Mason lowered his eyes. “I guess not. But look, I’ve been in this situation before, and I know it’s not easy. You suddenly depend on everyone else to make things right. You start looking for loopholes in every plan, but the truth is there is no perfect plan.”
“Easy for you to say. It’s not your son.” Morgan felt slightly guilty about biting at him, but what was he supposed to do? If Erika did anything to Robin, it would leave a hole in his life that he couldn’t fill. God only knew what would happen to Rachel—it would probably destroy her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
Mason waved his hands in mock surrender.
“What should we do?”
“Are you asking me or hinting that you have a plan?”
“I think two teams is the best we’re going to get. I’d rather we spent time perfecting that plan than digging around for new ones. Time is a factor here, and the more we waste the worse it’ll get. Just do what you need to do. I won’t argue.”
Mason twitched his lips as if he was thinking, and then he put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “This won’t be easy, and it definitely won’t be legal. The best we can do is wait until the early hours to catch Erika at her weakest.”
“Won’t we be at our weakest?”
“Why, would you rather waste time sleeping?”
Morgan tilted his head to one side. Fair enough. “But what if she leaves? She’s already spooked.”
“If she was going to run she would’ve already.”
“I’m not comfortable with that risk.”
“We don’t have a choice.”
Morgan sighed. “Gary won’t shoot, you know.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s a good guy and he truly means to help, but when it comes to squeezing the trigger he can be a little hesitant. Normally that would be a good thing, but if push comes to shove, we need someone who’s willing to shoot.”
Mason nodded, looking into his eyes. “Which leaves us with six hours to practice.”
“You should already be a good shot with that thing.”
“I wasn’t talking about me.”
“Then…” Morgan suddenly understood. If Gary didn’t want to shoot, then one gun would be spare. After all he’d said about wanting to make Erika pay, he feared it’d been taken too seriously. Could he even fire a gun? He’d tried before and didn’t like the recoil, much less the noise. And that was in a shooting range—he could only imagine trembling hands and feeling light-headed when his baby’s life was on the line.
Mason dropped his hand and moved closer. “Look, I know it’s hard. Even I’m worrying that you won’t be able to do what’s needed. Full disclosure, nothing would please me more than to put that bitch down. Just look what she did to me.” He heaved a sigh. “We have to do what’s right for our children. You understand? We have to do what’s right.”
Each syllable hit home. Morgan knew what he was saying, and he fully agreed. In spite of laws and rules and preferences, their options were so limited—their chances so slim—that all areas had to be explored. If shooting a few rounds into a tree was what it took to be ready, he wasn’t going to waste any more time arguing.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s get started.”