Elly huddled on the floor in front of the vanity, shaking at the sound of gunfire. In her mind’s eye, she saw the skaters falling again, awash in blood. It was only when she heard another round of gunfire that she realized she needed to move.
She crawled to the bathtub, lifting herself up just enough to make it over the rim and down inside. She turned so that she was lying face down. Every muscle in her body trembled with fear. Images of dead and injured people flashed through her mind. It was difficult to dissect what had happened earlier from what was going on now.
Partially because she’d awoken crying and drenched in sweat from a terrible nightmare. One in which the shooter had aimed and fired round after round into Joe’s body. Nausea swirled in her stomach, and she had to fight the urge to throw up. She’d pushed the sweaty blankets aside and had come here to the bathroom to wash up. Until the sound of gunfire had sent her diving down to the floor.
And back in time.
“Elly? Are you with me?” She could hear Joe’s voice getting closer and easily imagined him making his way across the motel room to find her.
“Yes.” Her voice was little more than a croak.
Another barrage of gunfire exploded through the night. A bullet ripped through the bathroom wall, shattering the mirror above the sink. She instinctively ducked lower, covering the back of her head with her hands.
Please, Lord, make it stop!
“Elly.” Joe’s voice had her glancing up. He was in the bathroom, crawling over the edge of the porcelain tub. It was too small for the two of them. She tried to scoot over to make room for him, but he draped his body across hers, propping himself on his elbows and knees. “Stay down, okay? Help is on the way.”
“A-are you hurt?” Her teeth were chattering although she didn’t feel cold. It took her a minute to realize she was in shock. A phenomenon she’d learned about in her EMT training program but had never experienced firsthand.
There was a lot she’d learned but hadn’t put into practice. Until now.
“I’m fine.” He shifted his weight to move his hand over her arm, then down her back. “No injuries?”
“Not that I know of.” She pushed the words through her tight throat. “How did he find us at the motel?”
“I don’t know.” Joe’s tone was grim. “The only possibility is that he got my license plate number earlier.”
That didn’t make any sense. Granted, the shooter could have gotten the number from when they were out in front of the homestead, but how did some loner with an assault rifle trace the license to Joe? She wasn’t a cop but had learned enough from her older siblings to know that wasn’t an easy task for the average citizen. “Who is this guy?”
“That’s a good question. Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer. Not yet.”
She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t naive, she knew police work took time. But it seemed unbelievable that this guy had managed to stay under the radar long enough to make two more attempts to get to her. Escaping three times, unless the officers who came managed to find him.
Why? That was the confounding question.
Joe shifted his weight. “Sorry, I hope I’m not crushing you.”
“It’s fine.” She could have told him she’d wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms, but not like this. Not hiding in a motel room bathtub from an evil man intent on killing them.
The sound of gunfire abruptly stopped, leaving an eerie silence behind. She wanted to believe that meant the shooter was gone, but knew better than to make assumptions.
Finally, the wail of police sirens indicated help was on the way. She told herself they were safe now. That the shooter was long gone. Yet the thought didn’t bring much relief. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking. She willed herself to calm down, but that was about as effective as spitting in the wind.
As if sensing her distress, Joe tightened his arms around her. “I’m here, Elly.” His low husky voice helped bring her stress level down a notch.
“Joe! Are you okay?” a deep male voice called out.
“In the bathroom, Steele.” Joe abruptly lifted himself up and off her. It was all she could do not to grab onto him to keep him close.
“This place is shot up pretty bad,” Steele said. “No injuries here?”
“We’re good. Better than the motel room.” Joe stood and stepped out of the tub. “I want everyone out there searching the surrounding area for this guy. We need to find him. And I also want you to check with Gary on his security cameras. This guy shouldn’t have gotten this close without alerting us.”
“Will do. After I get you both out of here.”
Elly glanced up to see a broad-shouldered cop standing there in full combat gear. She remembered Joe called him Steele. She wasn’t sure if that was a first or last name. He gave her a solemn nod. “Ms. Elly. Are you hurt?”
“No.” She sat up in the tub but couldn’t stand. Not yet. Drawing in a deep breath, she abruptly realized why Steele had gotten there so quickly. “You were standing guard at the homestead, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” Steele gave a slight nod. “Your family is fine. As soon as I heard the report of gunfire, I knew you and Joe had been targeted.”
“But why?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.
“We’ll find out more once we grab this guy.” Steele turned to Joe. “I have Brock and Raelyn outside searching. I’ll head out too.”
“I’m coming with you.” Joe stepped forward, then paused to look back at her. “Hold on, maybe we should get Elly outside and into a squad.”
“Good idea,” Steele agreed. “Keep her close.”
Since both men were looking at her expectantly, she forced a nod. “Okay.”
Joe stepped forward and offered his hand. Gathering her strength, she took it and stood, hoping her legs wouldn’t collapse. She carefully stepped out of the bathtub, avoiding the shards from the broken mirror that littered the floor.
“You need shoes.” Joe frowned. “Where are they?”
“Next to the bed.” She took the few steps to reach the bathroom door. Steele left, returning a few seconds later with her running shoes in his hand. She reached for them. “Thanks.”
He nodded, then stepped back, casting a glance around the room. Leaning on Joe for strength, she slipped the shoes on. Moving into the main room, she abruptly stopped when faced with the damage.
The room looked as if it had been attacked by a band of guerrilla fighters rather than one lone gunman. There were multiple bullet holes in the drywall and embedded in the bunched-up covers and mattress. Everywhere she looked there was destruction.
It was nothing short of a miracle that she and Joe hadn’t been hit.
Or killed.
Her knees threatened to buckle. As if sensing her weakness, Joe slipped his arm around her waist, holding her upright. “Come on, Elly. Let’s go.”
She nodded. After taking a few steps, she grabbed her coat. When she lifted it up, she immediately saw there was a bullet hole in the garment. She dropped it as if it were a snake that would bite. “I—uh, this has been hit by a bullet. Can I wear it? Or do I leave it here?”
“Leave it.” He looked upset, but then added, “We’ll keep the squad warm for you. I’ll have an officer stay inside with the motor running.”
“Okay.” She dropped the coat and continued to the open door. From the looks of the broken jam, she deduced Steele had kicked it in to gain access.
Rhy’s tactical team to the rescue.
She managed to get down the stairs to the ground level where several cop cars were parked. The place was lit brighter than the Christmas parade. Joe led her to one and instructed the officer to keep the motor running. “Stay inside with Elly, understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Joe turned to her. “I’ll need you to wait here, okay?”
She nodded, even though she didn’t want him to leave her alone.
“This won’t take long.”
“I know.” She slid into the back seat.
A flash of indecision crossed his features, but then Joe closed the door and turned away. She watched as Joe and Steele joined other officers milling around the parking lot. Then the two men disappeared from her line of sight.
She rested her forehead on the cool window, concentrating on taking slow, deep breaths.
The danger was over. If the shooter was smart, he’d have taken off. And if he wasn’t smart, she knew Joe, Steele, and whoever else was out there would find him.
Yet she couldn’t begin to comprehend why this was happening. Had the shooter targeted her simply because she’d bumped into him before the parade?
Because she’d drawn the sketch of his likeness that had been flashed all over every news channel, locally and nationally?
Or was it just because she was one that got away?
“You okay back there?” the cop behind the wheel asked.
“Yes.” No, of course not. How could she be okay? How could anyone be okay after something like this?
Elly closed her eyes and sought peace in prayer, the way her parents and Rhy had taught her.
Please, Lord Jesus, keep us all safe in Your loving arms. Amen.
Joe hated leaving Elly in the squad, but he had a job to do. The only way to keep Elly safe from harm was to find this guy ASAP.
“He had to have been up in a tree,” Joe said to Steele as they crossed the parking lot toward the ridge of mature trees lining the opposite side of the parking lot from the building. “The angle of the bullet that hit the mattress indicated he was above the second-floor landing, shooting in a downward trajectory into the room.”
Steele whistled under his breath. “The goal was to kill Elly.”
“Yes. I have no doubt about that.” It didn’t make any sense, but this guy was clearly twisted, having absolutely no conscience as he ruthlessly killed innocent people. “I’m thankful Elly was in the bathroom.”
“You think he used a scope?” Steele asked as they split up, walking about three feet apart into the wooded area.
“Must have.” Joe scanned the ground searching for footprints. “Although if so, I would have thought he’d have noticed Elly wasn’t there.”
“Maybe he didn’t look closely enough to realize the pile of blankets and pillows weren’t a person.” Steele shrugged. “He may have been too eager to take action.”
“Maybe.” Although he found that difficult to believe. This guy had proved himself to be a cold-blooded killer. Not a hyped-up kid dealing with a rush of adrenaline. “He’s not the typical active shooter, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Steele glanced at him. “Highly unusual for an active shooter to stalk a witness.”
“Exactly. And how did he find her here?” Joe scowled. “I don’t like it, Steele. Not one little bit.”
“Agreed.” Steele paused, then glanced upward. “This tree doesn’t have a direct line of sight to the motel room. His position must have been closer to where you are.”
Joe nodded. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then dropped to his haunches. He couldn’t rush this. As much as he hated to admit it, their perp was smart. He’d taken extra precautions to avoid being caught. Which meant he would have taken care not to leave evidence behind.
Yet he’d also fired off several rounds. The chances were slim that he’d have been able to pick up all his brass. He’d heard Raelyn had found shells at the Christmas parade too. None with prints, unfortunately, but it was something.
He’d take whatever they could get.
A glint of brass caught his eye. A surge of satisfaction hit hard. “I have something. I need an evidence bag.”
Steele crossed over to join him. “Here.”
Using the bag as a glove, he picked up the shell casing. Then found another one. Only two, but that was a good start. Enough to match them as the same make and model Raelyn had found at the parade.
“Looks like he made another mistake,” Steele said with a grim smile. “I believe he’ll make more.”
Joe didn’t doubt that they’d find him. The question was when. It was already going on ten hours from the initial shooting event at the Christmas parade. They needed to find and arrest this guy, before he killed anyone else.
He was sick to his stomach knowing sweet Elly was in the center of this guy’s crosshairs.
“Joe?” A male voice caught his attention. Rising to his feet, he turned to see Gary coming toward him, a look of alarm etched on his features. Joe inwardly winced, thinking about the damage that Gary’s motel room had sustained.
“I’ll pay for the repairs,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry, Gary. I did not expect this guy to find us here.”
“I have insurance.” Gary waved an impatient hand. “That’s not why I came out here. I feel somewhat responsible, for this mess too. I swear I was watching the cameras but never saw this guy.”
He’d wondered about that. Turning, he stared across the parking lot. From this position, he could just barely make out the camera located on the second floor near the stairs that were positioned right outside Elly’s room. At the time, he’d thought that room was the best for her. Close to the stairs leading down to the ground level and close to the camera that would alert them to danger.
Then he frowned. “Gary, has that camera outside the room been tampered with?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Gary looked upset, making Joe wonder if the guy was concerned about his relationship with Rhy. “I was watching the cameras and didn’t see anyone. Not a single hint of movement. But I also didn’t notice the one camera was pointing off at an odd angle.”
“That camera right outside Elly’s room.” His heart sank.
“Yes, although I didn’t make that connection.” Gary’s expression revealed his anguish. “I feel like I let you down, Joe. Rhy too.”
“It’s okay.” Gary was a former firefighter, not a cop. He wouldn’t think like a cop, no matter what the circumstances. That was his job. If anyone had failed here, it was him. Joe should have double checked that the camera was pointed in the correct direction.
“It’s my fault,” Gary muttered. “All my fault.”
“It’s not,” Joe interjected. “The shooter did this, not you. And I should have noticed it too. I guess the good news is that he didn’t target any of the other motel rooms.”
Gary’s jaw dropped as if that possibility hadn’t occurred to him. The older man spun around to stare at the front of the motel. “You’re right. It’s only the room Elly was in that was destroyed.”
“Yeah.” And that, too, wasn’t typical behavior for the typical active shooter. Joe would have expected the gunman to spray the entire front of the motel, taking out as many people and damaging as much of the structure as possible.
But he hadn’t. No, the shooter had focused all his attention on Elly’s room.
A shiver snaked down his spine as the implication sank deep. This guy was not playing around. Joe wasn’t sure how they’d escaped this far. He would have to get Elly way off-grid to keep her safe.
He heard Steele on the phone and realized he was already checking with Raelyn, comparing the brass they’d found here to the ones she’d discovered at the scene of the Christmas parade.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Steele lowered his phone. “It’s a match, at least make and model. We’ll need forensics to compare in more detail.”
“That’s something. Although we can’t connect the brass to the shooter unless we find the gun.” Joe sighed. “Let’s keep searching for evidence.”
“Hey, I found something over here!” A uniformed officer waved his hand to get their attention. Joe and Steele jogged over.
“What is it?” As soon as the question left his mouth, he saw the barest hint of a footprint. It wasn’t much, and he glanced up at the officer with a frown. “You sure this isn’t from one of the dozens of cops roaming around?”
“I’m sure. We spread out in a grid formation.” The young officer’s gaze was earnest. “I think the shooter left it.”
“Maybe.” Joe wasn’t completely convinced. “Go ahead and mark it. Keep your eyes peeled. Maybe we’ll find another to match it.”
“Will do.” The young cop appeared anxious to please.
As he rose to his feet, Joe realized the news of Kyle Malaki’s death must have spread across the cop community. Not that nailing a cold-blooded shooter wasn’t motivation enough, but a cop killer always ratcheted up every officer’s desire to apprehend a perp.
Whatever it takes, he thought with a grim sigh. They needed every cop in the entire city to be on high alert.
He began to walk toward the squad where he’d stashed Elly, but then he realized what he was doing. Checking on her wasn’t necessary. There was still work to be done, and she was safe inside the squad.
Turning away, he caught Steele’s arched brow and inwardly winced. Yeah, his fellow officer had noticed what he’d almost done.
Steele knew he was getting too emotionally involved.
Steele gestured him over. “You found the brass here, right?”
“Yeah.” Joe swept his gaze up the tree. “I see what you’re thinking. Give me a leg up.”
Steele obliged by lacing his fingers together to make a stirrup. Joe stepped up into Steele’s hands, then braced his hands on the tree trunk as Steele hoisted him up.
He caught the lowest branch, then pulled himself up to climb the tree. As a kid, he’d loved climbing trees, but as an adult, he found it difficult to wedge himself between the branches. They were bare of leaves but still close together.
Sitting on the lowest branch, he eyed the motel. Nope, this wasn’t high enough. He carefully stood and climbed higher. The next V was better, but as he eyed the distance, the angle of the shots that had pummeled the mattress still wasn’t right.
“Anything?” Steele called.
“Not yet. Do you have a pair of binocs down there?”
“Yeah.” Steele was dressed in his full gear, and he removed a small pair of binocs from his utility belt. “Ready?”
Joe leaned forward and caught the binocs with one hand. Then he moved horizontally from one branch to the other. Still not high enough. He sat for a moment, frowning. Was he wrong about the angle? It had all happened very quickly, and his concern had been on reaching Elly while avoiding being shot.
Then he glanced over to the other tree. The one to his left. Looking down at the ground, he thought it was more likely that the gunman had been up here. But he could be wrong. Still, he didn’t give up on the tree until he’d crawled to several more possible positions.
“Are you taking a nap up there?” Steele asked.
“No.” He gazed down at him. “This isn’t the right angle. And I haven’t seen any evidence that anyone else has been up here either.”
“You said he had to be shooting from an elevated position,” Steele said. “Which means he was up in a tree.”
“I know. Look out, I’m coming down.” After stuffing the binocs in his pocket, he carefully climbed to the lowest branch, then straddled it like a horse, turning upside down so he could drop to the ground. He scowled at Steele’s grin. As a tactical unit, they often fought side by side in dicey situations. But there was also plenty of razzing between the guys—and gals, he silently amended—during downtime.
“I need another leg up.” He gestured to the tree to their left. “I want to check this one.”
“That branch is higher,” Steele pointed out.
“Are you saying you’re not strong enough to get me up there?” Joe challenged.
Steele scoffed. “Don’t make me show you just how high I can toss your sorry behind.” His buddy laced his fingers together again. “Come on, cowboy. Time to get in the saddle. Giddyap.”
Shaking his head, Joe placed his boot in Steele’s palms, then steadied himself as his buddy used all his strength to lift him up. He managed to grasp the branch and hung dangling for a moment before he was able to pull himself the rest of the way up. Climbing the tree was why he and the others hit the gym on a regular basis. All those pull-ups and push-ups had prepared him for this.
He swung his legs over the branch and sat upright. He sat for a moment, then pulled out the binocs and zeroed in on the motel.
A chill ran down his spine. This was it. This was the nest the shooter had used in his goal to kill Elly. It was the right height and distance.
He peered through the binocs, trying to envision the room past the bullet ridden glass. It wasn’t easy, but he could make out the white sheets of the bed.
Twisting on the branch, he looked down and could see the area where he’d found the brass.
Scanning the surrounding area, he tried to imagine the path the shooter had taken to escape. He turned so that he was facing the large trunk of the tree and saw some scrape marks in the bark.
Oh yeah, this was it.
There was a smooth part of the tree trunk that he’d have checked for prints. Even though the guy at the parade had been wearing gloves, it was worth a try. Gazing past the tree trunk, he saw the church. “Steele? Did anyone go through the church?”
“I’ll check.” Steele lifted his hand to his radio to make the call. “Attention all units, who cleared the church?”
“I did,” someone responded. “Five minutes ago. It was clear.”
Five minutes. Too long, Joe thought with a frustrated sigh. It had taken them too long, and now the shooter was once again in the wind.