“Get away!” Jon yelled as he fired another warning shot out the back door—aiming more toward the beach than the shooters. “Or I’ll shoot again.” Then, without hesitation and hoping his leg wouldn’t let him down, he leaped through the open back door and grabbed Leah by one limp arm, dragging her seemingly lifeless body into the house and away from the gunfire. Without wasting a second, and using up every last morsel of strength, he shoved the heavy kitchen table up against the compromised door. He knew it wouldn’t take a couple of cops long to push the blocked door open, but it might stall them. Perhaps long enough for them to read the note taped to the door.
“Leah?” He bent down, peering into her face and fearing the worst. “Leah, talk to me. Are you okay?”
She opened her eyes, blinking up at him. “Jon? Wh-what happened? Where am I?”
“You’re with me, Leah. Where were you shot? Are you in pain?” Although the light in there was dim, he saw no sign of blood pooling on the kitchen floor. “Have you been wounded?”
“I—I don’t feel any pain.” She reached for his hand, letting him help her to her feet. Still worried about the shooters outside, he moved her well away from the door, wanting to get her far from harm’s way, but wondering where that was.
“When I heard those shots—saw you falling—I thought for sure you’d been shot.” With the rifle still in one hand, he used his other hand to hold tightly to hers, wishing he could hold on to her forever. “You had me so worried, Leah.”
She collapsed in his arms, choking back sobs. “Me, too. I was certain they’d shot you, Jon, but you’re alive!”
“And so are you.” He hurried to guide her toward the laundry room now, deciding it was the only way to protect her. “You go in there with your mom and the girls while I see if I can reason with the guys outside. I want them to read my note.”
“I want to stay with you,” she insisted.
“You’re shaking,” he told her. “You’ve been through so—”
“I’m okay.” She stepped away from him, standing taller. “I’ll help you hold them off, Jon.” She unzipped her pocket. “I’ve still got the revolver. Even if I can’t hit anything, I can shoot to scare someone if I need to.”
“I only shot to make them back off. I don’t want it to turn into a shooting match.” His eyes remained fixed on the back door with the broken-out window. “But if you’re going to stay here with me, help me find a piece of furniture that we can hide behind—just in case.”
While Leah went looking for a shield, Jon tried to think of a better plan. He knew the cops were out there, probably strategizing a new plan of attack. Hopefully they wouldn’t resort to something like tear gas. There’d be no defense against that. If only he could get an honest cop to talk to him. That could make all the difference. Hearing the sound of something moving behind him, he turned to see Leah pushing a large dining table toward the kitchen.
“How about this for starters?” she asked.
“That might work if we turn it on its side.”
“It’s solid and heavy,” she said as she pushed it toward him.
Together, they turned the massive table over. It was a hefty piece, but he wasn’t sure it would stop bullets. Still, it was better than nothing.
“I’ll look for something to shield us from the front of the house,” Leah said as she went into the living area. “Just in case they break in that way.”
“Good thinking.” As he slid a pair of the kitchen stools behind the table, Leah returned pushing a leather love seat. Scooting the bulky piece a couple of feet from the table made a small fort, similar to something a child would make. Not exactly bulletproof, but at least it would conceal them.
“If they start to shoot, you drop down out of sight,” he instructed. “Better yet, I wish you’d go in the laundry room and wait until—”
“I’m staying here,” she said stubbornly. “With you.”
“Have it your way.” He perched on a stool, resting the rifle barrel over the edge of the overturned table as if he planned to defend them—when in reality he knew he would only fire warning shots. No way was he going to chance killing a cop. He wondered how long the cops would wait outside. Were they scheming a way to flush them out? What if they used explosives?
“What are they doing?” she whispered. “Why is it so quiet out there?”
“I don’t know.” Hoping to distract her a little, he decided to change the subject. “What made you fall like that when they were shooting?”
“I don’t really know.” She sighed. “Maybe I blacked out from just plain fear.”
“I’d been watching for you at the back door,” he told her. “I was so worried, Leah. It had taken too long. And I’d heard those gunshots.” He blew out a long sigh. “I honestly thought they’d gotten you. And you were gone for such a long time. I thought you were dead.” He wanted to say how frightened he’d been when he’d felt as if he’d lost her, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. Maybe it was the wrong time.
“That’s what I thought, too,” she said urgently. “That they’d shot you, Jon. I heard gunshots while I was on the rock and then I saw a slain man on the road. I thought maybe you’d run outside to keep them from discovering Mom and the girls.” She looked over to the laundry room door. “It’s so quiet in there. Are they okay?”
“They’re fine. I asked them to be quiet. Although I’m sure the gunshots scared them. You could go in there and check on them. Stay awhile.” He really wanted to get her to a safe place. If that were possible.
She looked over her shoulder toward the front door. “I really think I’m more useful here, Jon. What if they storm both doors at once?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t really want to think about that, but knew she was right. “So what happened out there?” he asked. “You say you made it to the rock?”
She quickly explained about having to hide for a while. “It seemed like cops were everywhere. So I climbed up the back side of the rock so they couldn’t see me.”
“You climbed up the back of the rock? It’s practically straight up from that side. Impressive.”
“It felt safer, but it took longer. Once I was up there, I got a connection. Just one bar, but enough to send the texts. They went out pretty slowly—but at least they went. And then I heard those three gunshots down on the street. I could see someone down there—I thought for sure it was you.”
“That’s what I heard, too. Three gunshots.” He remembered the shock waves that had run through him when he’d assumed it was Leah. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“That’s how I felt, Jon.” Her voice cracked. “It made me sick to think you’d been killed. Such a horrible feeling. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Jon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She let out a shaky sigh.
“I know... I felt the same way, Leah.” He reached over to touch her cheek, longing to do more. “There’s so much I want to say to you. Things I couldn’t tell you—if you were...well, you know.”
“Dead?” she offered softly.
He set down the rifle, reaching out to take her face in his hands. “If we ever get out of this alive—there’s so much I want to say.” And now he kissed her, drinking in her sweetness and wishing they’d met under different circumstances. When he released her they just continued gazing into each others’ eyes.
“We have to survive this,” she said quietly. “I just promised Ralph we’d be back for him.”
“Ralph?”
Now she quickly explained about running from someone with a gun, nearly falling off the bluff and eventually winding up in his parents’ cabin with Ralph. Jon couldn’t believe all she’d been through in the past thirty minutes, but at least she was here now. And still alive. “Wow, you’ve had quite a—” He stopped himself, certain he’d heard a sound outside. He motioned for them to get down behind their makeshift fort. “I wish you’d gone into the laundry room,” he whispered.
“We’ve been in this together from the start,” she whispered back. “Can’t get rid of me now.”
“If I get the chance, I want to try to talk to—” He stopped again, hearing what sounded like fast-moving footsteps outside. Was someone getting in position to launch an attack?
“We’re in here!” Jon yelled loudly. “And we’re armed, but we don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Release the hostages,” a male voice called, “and no one gets hurt.”
“We don’t know if we can trust you,” Jon shouted back. “Who are you?”
“Lieutenant Conrad of the Perpetua Cove Police Department. You can trust me.”
“I don’t buy that,” Jon shouted. “We have good reason to distrust some of the PCPD cops. Tell me why we should trust you!”
When Lieutenant Conrad didn’t answer, Jon grew concerned. Was he talking to the enemy? Was this guy involved in Krantz’s schemes?
“What do you want?” Lieutenant Conrad yelled. “What are your terms?”
“All I want is to speak to an honest cop,” Jon shouted back. “I want someone to listen to our side of the story.”
“We already know your side of the story,” a second voice shouted. “If you don’t send out the hostages right now, we’re coming in there! No more game-playing!”
Suddenly what sounded like a disagreement started up outside. Had the second cop overstepped his bounds? Was he perhaps aligned with Krantz? Was this a case of good cop versus bad cop? Jon glanced at Leah, and she looked as puzzled as he felt.
“Do you think Brett or Gordie are out there?” she whispered.
He nodded grimly. “Seems like it.” Even so, he was unwilling to give up on Lieutenant Conrad. “I’ll tell you my terms,” Jon shouted. “There’s a note on the back door that explains what’s really going on. I want someone trustworthy to get the note and read the facts. Then we can talk.”
“We’re not falling for that,” the second voice shouted. “We know you’ll shoot us if we come to the door. Just like you shot Krantz.”
“Krantz is a criminal who was trying to kill us. It was self-defense!” Jon yelled.
“Says you!” This was followed by some profanity and suddenly another argument broke out between the two men.
“Lieutenant Conrad!” Jon tried again. “If you’re still there, you need to listen to us. You need to understand that we’re the victims here. Officer Krantz tried to kidnap Leah Hampton. I’m an attorney. I tried to reason with Krantz, and he recklessly shot both me and my dog. He’s been trying to kill us ever since then. Krantz is a—”
“He shot you because you were fleeing arrest,” the other cop yelled. “He was after you because you’re criminals!”
“We ran from Krantz because he didn’t want to arrest us—he wanted us dead!” Jon shouted. “We know that Krantz and some of his cop buddies are involved in human trafficking. And drug trafficking, too. Krantz knows we can expose his ring and he can wind up in prison.”
“You’re the ones doing the trafficking,” the voice yelled back. “We’ve got evidence!”
“That’s a lie!” Jon shouted. “You give us the chance and we can prove it. But if you’re a friend of Krantz, you probably want us dead, too. That’s why you want to storm this house. That’s why you’re in such a hurry to shoot and kill. You want the girls and Leah’s mom dead, too. Because we are all eyewitnesses against Krantz and his buddies.” He paused to think. “And we know the names of Erik Krantz’s cop buddies, too. Brett and Gordie. We don’t have last names, but do those names sound familiar? Know anyone by the name of Brett or Gordie?”
This didn’t bring an answer and that was troubling. Did that mean he was talking to Brett and Gordie right now? If so, how would they retaliate? And where were the other cops? Were they all crooked? He could hear the sounds of vehement arguing again, but he couldn’t make out the words. He and Leah exchanged glances.
The sound of more footsteps, running across the back patio, got Jon’s attention. He prepared to shoot the rifle again. But then nothing. Just silence. What was going on out there? Were they getting ready to launch a full attack?
“Lieutenant Conrad!” Jon called out in desperation. For some reason he felt as if this cop might be on the right side—he hoped he was. “Are you still out there?”
“I’m here,” a voice yelled back. “Just give yourself up. Come out here so we can talk.”
“I wish I could,” Jon called back. “But thanks to Krantz and his friends, we know we can’t trust just any cop. What’s your first name?”
“Michael,” he yelled back. “Lieutenant Michael Conrad. I’ve been on the force for over twenty years. You can trust me. I need to know who told you those names. Who told you that Brett and Gordie couldn’t be trusted?”
“The girls we rescued. The ones that Krantz kidnapped and held in that filthy warehouse,” Jon yelled back, deciding that if no one was going to read his note, he’d just have to shout out as much of their story as possible. Someone had to hear it! “Hallie and Rosita told us about Brett and Gordie. The girls said they’re the other policemen working with Krantz. All three CPPD cops and another man—possibly more—are involved in human trafficking. According to the girls your cops are moving drugs, too.” He paused to catch his breath, waiting to see if Lieutenant Conrad responded. When he didn’t, Jon continued, talking fast and loud and hoping—praying—someone was really listening.
“The girls were supposed to get picked up by boat tonight. A guy called Mack is involved with that—he’s probably out on the ocean right now. And Krantz was trying to get the girls and Leah’s mother out of the warehouse and onto the boat. The reason I shot Krantz was to protect those girls and Leah’s mother. And to protect ourselves. It’s all in my note.”
“And I’ve sent out a text message,” Leah shouted suddenly. “I sent all this information out to the state police, FBI and the coast guard. Real help is on the way!”
Jon wasn’t sure this information would be helpful, but there was nothing he could do about it now. There was another long silence, and Jon wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or a bad one.
“Lieutenant Conrad?” he yelled. “Are you still listening?”
“I sure hope Brett and Gordie aren’t out there listening,” Leah whispered. “That could—”
A noise from behind made them both turn around. “Someone’s trying to break in through the front door.” Leah pointed a shaky revolver toward the front of the house.
“Lieutenant Conrad!” Jon yelled again. “I thought we were talking. Why are your guys busting down the front door?”
If Lieutenant Conrad answered, Jon couldn’t hear him because of the pounding on the door. “Get into the laundry room,” Jon said in no uncertain terms. “Now!” He was off the stool, pushing her toward the laundry room, determined to get her out of what could turn into a bloodbath. “I mean it. Take care of your mom and the girls.”
“I can’t—”
“Now!” He shoved her toward the door. “Run!”
To his relief, she obeyed and just as she closed the laundry room door, the front door burst open and he ducked down into the fort.
“Get your hands up in the air! Now!” This command came from the front of the house and sounded like the same cop who’d been arguing with Lieutenant Conrad. “I’m counting to three and then I’ll open fire—”
“I want to talk to an honest cop right now! And not anyone—” His words were cut off by the sound of the back door being kicked open and suddenly gunfire broke out from what felt like every direction. Knowing he couldn’t fight this many automatic weapons, Jon hit the floor in the makeshift fort and, wrapping his hands around his head, he prepared to meet his Maker.
* * *
Leah huddled with the girls and her mother beside the washing machine, tucked in the far corner of the laundry room. Wrapping her arms around the three of them, she listened in horror as round after round of shots rang in the house. Her blood ran cold as she imagined Jon completely surrounded by lawless lawmen, wounded, bleeding. No way could he survive that much gunfire. No one could. And then, as quickly as it began, it seemed to be over.
Numb with fear and dread, she listened to the sounds of shouting and scuffling just outside the laundry room door. She couldn’t make out the words, but people were clearly angry. And then there were two more shots, followed by a brief silence—and then more agitated voices.
“God help us,” Leah prayed quietly in a trembling voice. “Please, protect Hallie and Rosita and my mom. Don’t let anyone hurt them.” Her prayer was interrupted by more yelling and scuffling. The words were unintelligible, but there was definitely a disagreement going on. Was Jon still putting up a fight? Still alive? She strained her ears, longing to hear Jon’s voice in the mix.
“What’s happening?” Hallie asked.
“I don’t know,” Leah whispered. “But I need to get rid of this.” She pulled the revolver from her pocket, then slipped it behind the washing machine, sliding it way back against the wall and beneath the machine. “I don’t want to give anyone an excuse to have a shoot-out with us.” She slowly stood, knowing it was just a matter of time before they were discovered in the laundry room. She needed to do whatever she could to spare the girls and her mom. Even if that meant they would shoot her, too. It was their only hope.
“I’m coming out!” she yelled loudly as she reached for the laundry room doorknob. “I’m unarmed. Don’t shoot!”
“Come out with your hands up,” a loud voice yelled.
“Is Lieutenant Conrad there?” Leah asked from behind the door. “I’d feel safer if he was there.”
“I’m here!” he shouted. “Come out now. Hands high in the air. Move slowly.”
Bracing herself, Leah cracked open the door, cautiously stepping into the kitchen with her hands held high. As she saw firearms aimed in her direction, she knew this might be a trick, but she also knew she was out of options.
“I’m Leah Hampton,” she announced as she came out. Someone had turned a light on in the kitchen, and she could see that the room was filled with law enforcement officers, many of them in riot gear and all wielding firearms. “I contacted the state police and FBI and coast guard, and told them the truth,” she said quickly. “That Jon Wilson and I are both innocent—that Krantz and his buddies are trying to frame us and—” Before she could finish her sentence, a uniformed female officer came over and, with a gun in hand, told Leah to slowly lower her hands and place them behind her back.
“But I’m innocent.”
“Just do it,” the woman said firmly.
Leah did as she was told.
“It’s procedural,” the woman said in a quiet voice as she cuffed Leah’s hands. “For your safety as much as for ours.”
“Oh...?” Leah glanced around the room. “Where’s Jon?”
“They took him outside.”
“Is he—?”
“He’s on his way to the hospital.” The woman peered closely at Leah. “Do you need medical attention?”
“I’m not sure.” Leah frowned at the dark uniform, then at the woman’s face. “Who are you?”
“I’m Detective Brianna Crawley, Oregon State Police.”
Leah’s eyes filled with relieved tears. “Really? The state police got my message? You came?”
“Just in time, it seems.”
* * *
After ensuring that her mother was safely back in her room at The Willows and discovering that Jon had been admitted to the hospital for treatment of his original gunshot wound in the leg, Leah spent the rest of the evening in the Cape Perpetua police station being interviewed by Detective Crawley. Glad to spill the whole strange story, Leah made a full statement and answered all the detective’s questions.
When it was time to go home, Leah was pleasantly surprised that Lieutenant Conrad met her in the reception area with a little brown dog in his arms. Leah eagerly reached for Ralph, thankful that he seemed just fine. As the lieutenant walked her out to her car, he reassured her that, aside from Krantz and his cohorts, who were in custody, the rest of the police force in Cape Perpetua was completely trustworthy. “You should be completely secure, but just to be safe we’ll keep officers posted near your home. Call us if you have any concerns.”
By the time Leah fell into her own bed, she was too exhausted to think clearly, but there was still one unanswered question rumbling around in her head. That was regarding Jon. Was there really something between them—did he have the same strong feelings she’d been experiencing? Or had their relationship been temporary—just the result of being forced together by a dire situation? All she could do was pray about it and fall into a deep and much-needed slumber.