Instinctively, Max stepped in front of Daisy. Bradley was advancing, a gun in his hand, one eye puffy and black, anger smeared across his bleeding lip. Max’s inner paramedic wondered if there’d been another car accident or if the corrupt officer had been in fight.
His eyes rose to the dark skies above and a prayer for everybody’s safety crossed his heart. How long now until Trent and Chloe would be there? Twenty minutes? Twenty-five? If he managed to stall Bradley until they got there, they could arrest him. But if he did that, he’d be putting Fitz, his parents and Daisy in danger.
Lord, help me focus. Help me triage. What’s important now?
He turned to brush his lips along Daisy’s cheek and whispered in her ear.
“You and Fitz will be safe with my folks. Dad’s an even better shot than I am. You get inside the house and stay there. I’m going to keep him busy until Trent gets here.”
He raised both hands and turned toward the corrupt cop hoping Daisy would do as he’d asked. But he could tell by the slight shake of her head and set of her jaw that she wasn’t about to run. No, she was going to stand fast on his parents’ porch behind him.
“Bradley, hi!” Max called. He stepped forward. “How’s Officer Kelly? I heard she was in the hospital.”
Worry flickered across Bradley’s face, so quickly that Max almost missed it. Yeah, even criminals had people they cared for, something he reminded himself every time he saved a drunk driver’s life.
“She’s fine but she was arrested. I’m guessing thanks to you,” Bradley said. The gun shook slightly in his hand and he steadied it with the other one. “They took her to the hospital and then handcuffed her to the bed.”
Yeah, that matched what Trent had said, and while Max had mostly asked the question as a stalling tactic, it was odd, the palpable sense of relief he felt knowing that a patient who could’ve killed him was okay. He hated losing anyone. Even the criminals.
But if he’d thought for a moment that saving Kelly’s life was going to make Bradley see the error of his ways, then clearly he’d been wrong. If anything, the look in Bradley’s face was even meaner and more vile than it had been when he’d first waved a gun in Max’s face.
Bradley gestured toward Daisy with the barrel of his gun. “Tell me who your friend is.”
“Someone who has nothing to do with whatever trouble you’ve come looking for,” Max said. “I’m guessing you’re not here to apologize and give me back my phone and wallet.”
“Ran into someone who wanted them more than I do.” Bradley’s tone projected more bravado into the words than the bruises and cuts implied.
“Let me guess, two big bald men with scars?” Max asked. The sneer on Bradley’s face implied yes. So, Jones and Smith had his wallet and identification now. That was very bad news.
“How about you tell me more about Blondie here.” Bradley leered.
Max felt his jaw set. He walked down the steps. “Why don’t you tell me what the end game is for you here? You’re going to threaten the lives of strangers until you get your hands on enough sugar maple money to throw away everything your badge stands for?”
Bradley sneered, “So, look who suddenly knows all about sugar maple money.”
“Yup,” Max said. Keeping him talking meant keeping him from shooting. “Called my big brother Trent and he filled me in on how someone managed to figure out how to make counterfeit versions of the new polymer notes, but before the RCMP could track that person down, a couple of dishonest cops got greedy and tanked the investigation. I’m guessing that whatever payout or deal they struck with the counterfeiters wasn’t enough, though, so they decided to try to get the technology for themselves.”
It was a workable theory, Max thought, but not a perfect one. He could see all the symptoms—Anna’s death, Gerry telling Daisy to run, the money, the house blowing up, Smith and Jones, the corrupt cops, the real Jane who’d died and fake Jane’s obsession with getting baby Fitz—but couldn’t figure out how they all fit in one simple, elegant diagnosis.
“How about you shut your smart mouth,” Bradley said, “and get in the car?”
“Okay,” Max said. “I’ll get in the car and go with you, and we’ll have a big long talk about anything you want. On one condition. You take me. My friend stays here. This is about you, me and the sugar maple money. She has no part in this. Now, just let me say goodbye.”
Would Bradley believe him and let Daisy go? Bradley didn’t give any indication that he knew who she was. Max could only hope that either Bradley believed Daisy had nothing to do with the sugar maple money or that he thought taking a willing hostage was better than trying to take two unwilling ones.
Either way, Max didn’t wait for Bradley to agree to his terms. He turned back to where, Daisy was still standing on the top of the steps of his parents’ front porch, despite his entreaty for her to hide inside. Her skin was drenched in the thin beams of sunshine now filtering through the clouds and he knew without a doubt that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She shook her head. Her dark eyes pleaded with him not to go.
Baby, you think I’d leave if I had any other choice? But I have to. I have to hope he’ll agree to this. It’s the only way.
“Daisy, it’s going to be okay. Just talk to my brother when you see him,” he said. “I trust you.”
He trusted she’d stay there and wait for Trent and Chloe. He trusted she’d tell them who’d taken him and give them a description of the man and his license plate. He had faith that he’d still be alive when they found him, and he’d be able to tell them how to patch him back up again from whatever this criminal decided to do.
He trusted Daisy would save his life.
He took a deep breath, prayed for courage and turned back to face the man who he knew without a doubt planned to kill him once he’d got everything he wanted out of him. Despite the fear, he felt a wry smile curl on his mouth. He was very good at talking for a long time when he needed to.
Bradley scowled, looking for a long moment from Max to Daisy. Then he waved his gun to her. “Girlie, come here. Nice and slow. No funny business, or I’ll kill your boy here. I’m taking you instead.”
“No!” Max raised his hands higher, palm up. “That’s not how this works. I agree to go with you and cooperate. She stays here.”
“You really believed me when I acted like I didn’t know who she was?” Bradley asked with an ugly smile, and Max knew he’d been played. “You think I’m that dumb or that I haven’t seen her face all over the news? She’s got a warrant out for her arrest, which means it’s my duty to arrest her. I know she used to work for Gerry and Anna Pearce, and that means she’s tangled up in this somehow. Don’t know how yet. Haven’t figured that out. But I know she’s valuable.”
No, God, please help me find a way to stop this. I can’t let him hurt Daisy.
But he could already hear the sound of Daisy’s footsteps running down the steps behind him and then the crunch of her feet on the gravel. “Daisy, stop. Please. You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do.” She walked past him, with her head held high, toward the barrel of the gun. Her hands stretched out in front of her, the delicate skin of her wrists turned up toward Bradley, as she offered them up to him. He shifted the weapon to one hand. With the other, he reached for her hands, enveloping both of her delicate wrists in one of his. Then he yanked her forward, as if inspecting the merchandise he was just about to steal.
“You don’t need him if you have me,” she said. “I’m the one who worked for the Pearces. I’m the one who found the sugar maple money in Gerry’s car and slipped it into Max’s coat. He had no idea it was there. He’s just a really good, innocent guy who got all twisted up in this mess somehow because he was trying to help. So leave him here and take me.”
* * *
Bradley pulled her in so tightly she could feel the stench of his breath on her face. A greedy smile crossed his bleeding mouth, and his nose looked like it was freshly broken. But none of that was as ugly as the chuckle that came from his lips.
She used to think all men were like him underneath all the civility: selfish, greedy, out for themselves. Even Gerry Pearce, whose paranoia and mood swings she brushed off because at his worst he was still better than men like her stepfather.
But she’d been wrong. Because now she knew that no matter how much money somebody waved in Max’s face or what threat or coercion they tried, his heart would always shine through.
She just prayed he trusted she knew what she was doing now.
“If you don’t believe me, just reach into my jacket pocket and you’ll find the cell phone Gerry gave me,” she said. “He’s been texting me constantly for the past twenty-four hours.”
Bradley paused. She could see his mind working and she prayed that his greed was stronger than either his patience or his logic. His hands tightened their grip on her wrists. Then he holstered his gun and reached for his handcuffs. Daisy headbutted him in the face as hard as she could and yanked both her hands from his grasp. Bradley howled in pain and grabbed his nose.
“Come on!” Max leaped forward and grabbed her hand. “We’ve got to run.”
He pulled her off the driveway and into the thick bushes at the side of the house.
She gasped. “But what if he breaks into the house and hurts Fitz?”
Bradley yelled so loudly his swear words ran together in one long string of vile gibberish. Then a bullet sounded behind them, flying through the bushes near them like punctuation.
“Oh, considering how hard you headbutted him, he’ll definitely chase.” Max’s hand tightened in hers. “Come on!”
They ran through the trees, plowing though the forest down a narrow, well-worn path. Behind them, she could hear Bradley swearing and shooting and crashing toward them.
The woods parted, and they rushed through a gate and into a maze like nothing she’d ever seen before. Old cars, boats, small houses and mannequins lay spread around the field with wild and abstract shapes. Ropes and bridges stretched above them, crossing over a pond to their right. A wall of buildings appeared ahead, like a historical fort or a western ghost town. And all around her, every square inch was coated in thousands of splotches of paint, forming a dazzling kaleidoscope of color. Max steered her toward a tower at the end of the row.
“Watch your head,” he said, and she felt him brush a protective hand along the back of her neck as they pushed through a tiny wooden doorway. He pulled her against a wall. The room was narrow and at least two stories high, like a miniature grain silo. A rope ladder lay to her right with a crawl-height door on the opposite wall.
He slid past her and looked through the open doorway. “I’m afraid we’ve lost him. Which isn’t good. I don’t want him heading back to the house and getting any bright ideas. If he doesn’t show up soon, we’ll double back.”
She nodded. “Where are we?”
“I told you my family built a shooting range and paintball course,” Max said. She nodded. He had. But she’d never seen one before and never imagined anything that big or elaborate. “We’re in the paintball part. One of the two fort outposts, actually, that the teams have to defend. This place is half obstacle course and half little town. My dad spent two decades building this place. He lets camps and church groups use it now, but we still let out steam here when we’re all up here together. I think it was his way of helping the four of us deal with the death of my sister. It was how he empowered us by teaching us to shoot and hide and strategize and defend ourselves. I remember every broken limb my brothers ever had and every single paramedic visit from my childhood, and this is where almost all of them happened.”
There was a crash and then the sound of a familiar, bellowing voice. Bradley was outside. Max let out a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what I need you to do. You’re going to climb up this ladder to the top and come out in a small room. There’s a huge metal crank in there. You’re going to turn it and a big flashing light is going to come on.”
“But then he’ll see me!”
“Yup,” Max said, “and he’ll probably shoot at you, too. Thankfully, the plastic barrier surrounding the top is bulletproof, at least when it comes to what he’s packing. Hopefully, he’ll stumble in here and climb up the ladder after you. Wait until I set off the other flashing light beacon and then slip through the door to your right and start running along the tops of the buildings until you reach the second tower. There are bridges, nets and ropes to help you along.”
The angry voice faded. Bradley was heading their way.
She shook her head. “You want me to make him chase me through an obstacle course?”
“Yes,” he said. His lips brushed hers and then he guided her other hand to the ladder and held it taut to help her climb it. “You climbed out a second-story window with a baby, remember? You’re going to lure him into a trap and I’m going to make him fall. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”
Bullets rattled the air outside. Sounded like Bradley had given up on trying to find them and was now just shooting indiscriminately. Max darted back out the door. She started to climb, feeling the rough wood of the rungs under her feet.
She pushed through a gap in the ceiling and ended up in a tiny room surrounded by a shimmering, near-invisible wall. Tiny sparks and flashes of light punctuated the course below her as bullets clanged and ricocheted off obstacles. She scanned the room and found a small metal crank. She turned it.
The light was red, blinding and instant, flashing on and off from the ceiling above her and swamping her body in its light. Bradley turned toward her, aimed his weapon and fired. She dropped to her knees and heard the thud of the bullets bouncing off the plastic shield surrounding her. Bradley ran toward the tower.
There was a trapdoor to her right leading to a series of rope bridges, netting and wooden planks connecting building roofs. A second tower like the one she now stood in lay at the very end. She couldn’t see Max anywhere.
She heard Bradley burst through the door beneath her, then the sound of him climbing up the rope ladder. Her limbs tensed to run. She couldn’t just stay there. She couldn’t just stand in a tiny transparent room and wait to be captured.
Then she saw light flashing red and white at the other end of the course. Thank You, God! She turned to run.
A large hand grabbed her ankle and yanked her back toward the trapdoor. She kicked out hard and caught Bradley in the jaw. He let go, and for a moment, she thought he’d fallen, but then he braced himself with one hand, slid his gun through the hole and fired. But it was too late.
She’d slipped through the trapdoor and out onto the canvas bridge, weaving her way through the netting, using both hands to climb. She reached the end and crossed a long, narrow plank, before shimmying along a bridge, suspended by chains. Then she leaped down and sprinted across two rooftops and dived into another rope-maze bridge.
The gunfire stopped, but she could hear him coming after her, panting, wheezing and spitting out threats as he made his way through the course behind her. Bullets fired in the air, but he couldn’t get her in his sights, not with the way the course twisted and turned. Every step seemed designed to be hidden from the one before. She kept her eyes locked on the flashing light ahead and prayed with every step that Max knew what he was doing.
A net spiderweb ended sharply at a wall. She dropped down five feet onto another roof and ran across it. A long wooden swing bridge spread out beneath her feet, like a ladder of widely spaced planks spreading over the pond as it curved up toward the lighthouse tower. She could see Max now, his tall strong form at the other end, one hand outstretched, beckoning her toward him as the other turned the crank to maintain the beacon light.
She ran toward him, leaping from plank to plank as she felt them shaking beneath her feet. Then the weight of Bradley’s heavy form landed on the bridge behind her.
“Stop! Right there!” he shouted. “I’ve got a clear shot, and I will take it!”
Her steps froze, her hands grabbing the rope bridge as her eyes locked on Max’s form, just a few steps ahead of her. All she needed to do was leap up six more planks and she’d reach him. But Bradley was right. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and a twenty-foot drop to a murky pond on either side.
“Daisy.” Warning rumbled through Max’s voice. “Keep running. Don’t look back and don’t let go.”
“You take one more step,” Bradley shouted. “I’ll shoot you in the back!”
A bullet whizzed past her head. She turned and her hands gripped the knotted rope beside her.
The bridge gave way beneath her feet.