Chapter Thirteen

Claire needed shoes, coats, guns, and a vehicle large enough to carry five women from Wyman’s little compound to town. Everything but the guns were necessities, and she hoped the guns would prove to just be a deterrent to Wyman and his morons trying anything stupid. Rescue was definitely doable, but she had to get started immediately. She expected Wyman would want to make up for lost time as soon as the ferry was back on schedule.

Hoagie had told her to keep the sledge for as long as she needed, so she returned directly to the mayor’s residence and parked at the front door. Jodie hurried out before Claire was even fully dismounted, pulling her into a desperate hug.

“You okay?” Jodie whispered against the side of Claire’s head.

“I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Jodie held her for a few breaths longer, then stepped back and squeezed her shoulders. “I heard the engine from about half a mile away. Patricia and Jill are making you hot chocolate.”

“That sounds amazing.” She looped her arm around Jill’s and led her back inside. “Was everything quiet here while I was gone?”

“Completely,” Jodie said. “Patricia spent most of the time in her office, but Jill and I were in charge of entertaining a little girl with more energy than seventeen puppies. I took her out in the garage and showed her how a car’s engine works, so I think I’m like Wonder Woman to her.”

Claire smiled and kissed Jodie’s temple. “Good job, Joe.”

They stopped in the foyer where Jodie helped Claire escape from her layers. “What about you? The actual dangerous thing.”

It already felt more like a dream than anything she’d actually done. Those abandoned homes and their dark corners, bare-bones furnishings, and humming generators was a whole different world from the mayor’s residence. She explained what happened as best she could, starting over when Jill and Patricia came out to join them. Patricia was visibly angry by the time Claire finished.

“I can’t believe that’s happening on my island right now. Those women are being held prisoner here right now and I can’t do anything.”

“We are doing something,” Claire said. “We have to worry about their safety. If we move too fast or get reckless, Wyman could do something drastic. Going slow may feel like wasting time, but it’s the right move in this case.”

Patricia sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll trust you. But if this isn’t wrapped up by the time the ferry service starts up again...”

Claire didn’t let her finish the thought. “If that happens, I’ll make the call myself. I swear.”

Patricia nodded.

“Right now, I need shoes and coats. The rest of the plan won’t matter if those women can’t set foot out of their prison.”

Jill took out her phone and poised her thumbs to type. “What are their names? The women?”

“Tereza. Vera. Stefaniya. Mila. Kseniya. I’m not sure of the spelling on any of those.”

“That’s fine.” Jill poked the screen and the phone in Patricia’s hand pinged. Claire knew she had just received the list. “I didn’t like just thinking of them as ‘the women.’”

Claire nodded. “I’ll tell you a little about their personalities later, when we have some time.”

“Thank you.”

Patricia said, “Pass.” Jill looked at her, confused, and Patricia shook her head and looked down at her feet. “It’s hard enough knowing they’re up there. If I get to know them, I’ll just keep getting angrier and angrier...”

Jill put a hand on her arm. “Okay, hon. Okay.”

“After,” Patricia said to Claire. “I’ll get to know them when this is all over.”

“Right.”

“I can make some calls,” Jill said. “Some of the other teachers may know where we can get hold of some shoes and coats.”

Claire said, “The tricky part will be the vehicle. The plows haven’t started on the country roads yet, so an ordinary car or truck won’t cut it and we can’t afford to wait. Mayor... Patricia... you really came through with Hoagie. I don’t suppose you know anyone on the island who has a tank?”

Patricia shook her head and then tilted her head to the side. “Not a tank... but I think something that may work just as well. How exposed is the clearing where these houses are?”

Claire shrugged. “There’s definitely tree-cover, but it’s generally open skies.”

“Is there enough room for a helicopter to land?”

Claire’s eyebrows shot up. “You can get your hands on a helicopter?”

Jill’s smile lit up her whole face. “Our son works at the airport.”

***

The last time Claire visited the island’s small airport, she’d been a fugitive arranging what she hoped to be a one-way flight to Alaska. She hadn’t had occasion to visit the actual terminal, a small building attached to twin hangars that ran the length of the runway. She spent over an hour at the Hood-Colby dining room table working out the plan with her co-conspirators, two of which kept getting called away to deal with the child in the house. By the time Claire put her thick winter gear back on, she felt she had a solid plan to put into action.

If she could get her hands on a helicopter, that is.

She left Jodie and the Hood-Colbys to gather shoes and coats and headed out on the sledge. The main roads had mostly been cleared by plows enough for emergency travel, but no one on the island seemed to be taking advantage of it besides her. Duckworth Airport was the same as she remembered it, save for the fact the stand of trees flanking it on three sides were now dusted in snow and perfectly postcard-ready. A four-by-four jacked up high on its chassis stood in front of the airport’s main entrance. Claire parked behind the truck and headed inside.

The terminal was a large room that reminded Claire of a high school hallway, all polished tile and gleaming walls. A sign to the right advertised flights to the mainland with a list of prices, and to her left was a small luncheonette which was currently dark. Straight ahead was a curving counter with a large model of a helicopter on display behind it.

“Hello?” she called.

A young man came out of an office behind the helicopter counter. He was in his early twenties, with close-cropped black hair and an impressively thick beard. He wore a plaid shirt under a puffy black coat. He smiled when he saw her.

“Sheriff. I’m Michael Colby.”

“No Hood-hyphen?” she asked as she accepted his outstretched hand.

“Long story. Patricia is my birth mom, but Jill is more than my stepmom, so... it’s for her.” He shrugged. “I never really liked the hyphen thing anyway. More streamlined.”

Claire said, “Okay.”

“They said you needed a helicopter.”

“And they told me you had one.”

“Well, I have access to one.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Tours are Paige’s company, but she didn’t want to risk getting out in this weather. She’s willing to let me take you wherever you need to go. Mom didn’t tell me much about why you needed it, but I assume it’s something important. Someone missing?”

Claire shook her head. “Do you have a map of the island?”

“Sure.” He pointed at the flights counter and led her over. He went behind the desk and crouched down to retrieve something from a cabinet underneath.

Claire said, “So if you’re not the helicopter guy, what do you do?”

“Pilot,” he said. “Just hopping from here to the mainland and back again, but flying is flying.”

He stood up and unrolled a map on top of the counter. Claire tilted her head to get her bearings. When she found the spot where Wyman and his people were, she traced a line back to Spence Alley.

“Could you land the chopper there?”

He looked closely. “Does the canopy still look like that?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember. It might be a little more open. I remember a lot of moonlight coming down, and it didn’t seem to stop the snow from accumulating.”

Michael pulled a face and scratched a thumb over his beard. “Hm. It’s not ideal. How deep is the snow?”

“Ankle?”

“That’s not too bad. But if it’s fresh, landing might cause a mini-blizzard. Whiteout. But it’s manageable for a good pilot.”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Michael hesitated before he answered, which she appreciated. Finally, he nodded. “I can do it. I wouldn’t even try for just anyone, but for the sheriff... absolutely. Yes.”

“How many passengers? We’re going after five people.”

“Room for seven passengers,” he said. “Five shouldn’t be a problem unless there’s a weight issue.”

She shook her head. “They’re all very petite. When can the helicopter be ready to head out?”

“I just need to make sure it’s fueled up, run a quick check to make sure nothing’s iced up. I should be ready whenever you give the go-ahead.”

They exchanged numbers and Claire told him to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. He promised he would, and he’d text her updates if he ran into any hiccups.

On her way out of the airport, she took out her phone and dialed Randall’s number. Until now, she’d been happy to leave him in charge of their prisoners. But now she needed another cop for the rescue mission, and she trusted him more than any of their volunteers. He picked up as she reached the glass doors of the terminal and she stopped so she wouldn’t have to raise her voice over the wind.

“Everything under control with our guests?”

“The one we have here is complaining about how cold the cells are. Poor baby. The one in the hospital seems to be in too much pain to put up much of a front. If you ever have an argument with your wife, I want you to know I’m taking her side.”

Claire smiled. “That’s probably smart, Randall. How many volunteers do you have with you at the station right now?”

“Three. Harvey Moses, Chip, and Ami.”

Good people, all of them. That was a relief. “I need you to leave one of them in charge. Harvey Moses is my choice, but I’ll leave it up to you.”

“Where am I going?”

“The mayor’s residence,” Claire said. “I’m going to need backup.”

***

The sky was already beginning to darken when Claire left the airport. The day felt endless but it also felt far too early for the sun to go down. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to let those women spend one more night in that house. It was actually ideal if she arrived at night; darkness would help conceal their escape. She went over the plan in her mind on the drive back to the mayor’s residence.

“The generators might cover the noise of the snowmobile,” Jodie had said, “but there’s no way they’d miss a helicopter landing next door.”

“That’s why we’re not arriving in the helicopter,” Claire said. “It’s our getaway driver. I go in on the sledge with shoes and coats. I get the women out and through the woods to safety. Guy’s house. Once we’re in place, we call in the chopper. It lands, the women get aboard, and it takes them to a secure location.”

Patricia said, “Leaving Guy and his neighbors to deal with some very pissed off criminals.”

“I’m not going alone,” Claire said. “Deputy White will come up with me, and I’m going to leave him on the ground while I go with the ladies.”

“You’re going to leave him behind?” Jodie said.

Claire shrugged. “It’s hardly ideal, I know. Everything in me wants to be the person who stays behind and fights the bad guy. But these women have been through a terrible ordeal, and I wouldn’t feel right sending them off with any type of male authority figure. Besides, Wyman seems like the type of guy who would come at me hard just because I’m a woman. I have a feeling he’ll be more likely to surrender if he’s facing off against Randall.”

Jodie lifted her hand. “I want to be clear that I wasn’t complaining about the plan where you get in a helicopter and fly away from danger.”

Claire smirked and took her hand, kissed the fingers, and kept hold of it.

The part of the plan she was most concerned about was the fifth woman, the one staying in the main house. There wouldn’t be a way to sneak her out, so she would have to be last. That was where the plan had the biggest chance of falling apart. But she wasn’t going to leave anyone behind to serve as a hostage or, worst case scenario, a lesson in what happens when someone makes Dennis Wyman angry.

She arrived at the mayor’s residence at the same time Randall pulled around the corner in the town’s only remaining squad car. Another car was parked in front of the house’s main entrance. Claire parked and dismounted as he rolled to a stop behind her.

“Damn, Claire. You get a promotion and you start riding in style.”

“Trust me, I’d take the cruiser any day. You’ll get to ride it soon enough.”

A tall black woman was with Jill in the living room. They were bent over a box, and Jill straightened up to wave Claire in.

“Sheriff Curran, this is Sonia Edwards. Sonia, this is Claire.”

Sonia offered her hand in such a way that Claire had to resist the urge to curtsey. “Considering your profession,” Sonia said as Claire shook her hand, “I hope it isn’t rude to say I’m glad we’ve never met before this.”

“Not at all. But it’s nice to meet you now.” Claire looked at the box. “Is this...”

Sonia said, “Clothing drive loot! Jill said you needed shoes and coats, but she wasn’t terribly specific, but I grabbed what we had at the school.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a coat at random. “The coats aren’t really gender specific. I’m sure it’ll be okay if they’re a little bulky. Shoes are trickier.”

Claire dug through the box and tried to picture what she’d seen at the house. “I didn’t really pay much attention to their feet other than noticing they didn’t have shoes. None of them seemed to be particularly freakish one way or the other.”

“We can err on the side of caution,” Sonia said. “Bigger shoes with the laces tied tight are always better than trying to cram your toes into something too small.”

“Right,” Claire said.

Patricia came into the room with a large backpack. “Claire, welcome back. Hello, Deputy. I was trying to find something for you to carry all this stuff up there.” She held the bag open. “We used this last time we went camping. I’m positive you can fit a few shoes and coats in there.”

“That’s great, Patricia,” Claire said. “Thank you. You’ve both been amazing. I have no idea what I would have done without the two of you running point on this. I wouldn’t even have been able to get up there to see what’s happening if you hadn’t gotten Hoagie’s sledge for me.”

Patricia said, “Just don’t ask for a snowmobile the next time the department’s budget comes up.”

“I’ll try not to push my luck,” Claire said. “We’re already going to need a new squad car.” She looked around the room. “Where’s Jodie?”

“Kitchen.”

Claire excused herself and went through the house. Jodie was at the stove, checking something on her phone before she picked up the wooden spoon.

“I thought when we got married, we agreed cooking was going to be my wifely duty.”

“We did.”

Claire wrapped her arms around Jodie from behind. “Does this mean I have to start taking out the trash?”

Jodie put down the spoon, resting her hands on top of Claire’s arms. “It means I feel pretty useless with all this going on. I can’t get you clothes and I don’t know anyone who happens to have a damn helicopter in their garage, but I can make sure you’re fueled up and full of energy before you go riding to the rescue.”

“It smells amazing.” She pressed her face into Jodie’s hair. “Mm. So do you.”

“Careful. That’s the mayor’s shampoo you’re admiring.”

“Mm, no, I recognize that. And I know what you smell like.” She nibbled on Jodie’s earlobe. “Thank you for thinking of this, Joe. You know I wouldn’t have bothered otherwise.”

“That’s what I’m here for. I take care of you when you’re too tunnel vision to do it yourself.” She turned around in Claire’s arms. “I’m terrified, you know.”

“Of this? This is a couple of douchebags with guns. This is nothing.”

Jodie said, “You told me Wyman was smart. He’s crafty. He might outthink you or...”

“We’ll worry about that when and if it happens. Right now we only have to be focused on getting those women out of danger.”

“Yeah.” She stepped back and smoothed her hands over the shoulders of Claire’s uniform shirt. “Wow, you’re a mess.”

“It’s been a long day.”

Jodie toyed with Claire’s collar. “Do you remember the day you told me your real name?”

Claire nodded. “I was falling in love with you. And I didn’t want that to happen while I was lying to you. But I knew telling you the truth might make you run like hell. Telling you was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.” She cupped Jodie’s cheek. “Worked out pretty good, though.”

“Yeah.” Jodie smiled. “Did I ever tell you what made me come back after I left?”

“You forgot your shoes.”

Jodie smiled. “Right. I got all the way to the lobby and realized I was in my socks. I realized it was night time, and there were muggers and rapists and other various assholes out there in the dark. I stood there and thought about what a dangerous world it was. How scary it was. And I realized I didn’t feel any of that scariness when I was with you. You said you were innocent, but I had no reason to believe what you said. Of course a fugitive would claim she didn’t really do it, and you’d just admitted that you’d lied to me since the day we met.”

Claire nodded but stayed silent.

“I realized that the woman I’d been spending time with couldn’t be a murderer. Or if you had murdered someone, it would be in a way that made sense to me. You know? Self-defense, or they were assholes. I figured I knew you well enough to make that assessment, and that was all that mattered.”

“When you came back up, you said you’d forgotten my real name.”

Jodie smiled. “I had. You were still Carmen to me, despite what happened. That said a lot.”

“Not that I mind the trip down memory lane,” Claire said, “but I assume you’re going somewhere with this.”

Jodie touched the badge on Claire’s chest. “You don’t change, Claire. You get older, smarter, more cautious. Your clothes change. Your name changes. But the woman standing in front of me right now is the woman I married, who is the woman that spent so many years running from the law, who helped rob a bank to expose very bad people. You’re the same woman who loved Elaine and was a Chicago cop. You were probably the same person as a kid, just shorter.

“You’re there when people need you. Those women need you now. So I’m not going to ask you to stay here and wait for the feds. I’m going to give you the tools you need to go up there and be you.”

“I love you, Jodie.”

“I love you, too. That was a really good speech.”

“Thanks.” She pecked Claire’s lips, then turned it into a more involved kiss. She stepped back and looked into Claire’s eyes. “Always go. Always do what you have to. But always do whatever you can to come home to me, okay?”

Claire said, “I swear.”

Jodie nodded. She put a hand over Claire’s badge. “Your armor.” She moved the hand to the holster on Claire’s hip. “Your sword.”

Claire put her hand over Jodie’s heart. “My real armor.”

“Sally forth, brave knight,” Jodie said. “Let me finish your dinner.”

Claire kissed Jodie once more and backed away, reluctantly leaving her. She stopped at the door and looked back. Jodie was at the stove, stirring the pot as steam rose in thin wisps around her.

Her wife.

She smiled and went back to the other room to finish going through the donated clothes.

***

After dinner, Isabel demanded her new best friend Jodie put her to bed with a story. Patricia and Jill both attempted to intervene, but Jodie was thrilled to do it. The alternative would be staying downstairs while Claire and Randall finished packing up their supplies and headed out. She knew she couldn’t be there for that. So she and Claire had a quiet, private goodbye in the dark kitchen and then she headed upstairs with her favorite seven-year-old.

The nursery was a beautiful room at the very top of the stairs, with orange and blue walls. Toys were scattered over the floor in a sort of organized chaos, and the shelves were stuffed full with books. Isabel, already bathed, brushed, and put in pajamas by Patricia, ran to her bed and hopped up onto the cushion of blankets. She pressed back against the pillows and began burrowing into the blankets.

“What book do you want to read?” Jodie asked.

“You tell me one!” Isabel said.

Jodie sat on the edge of the bed, twisting to face the girl. “Oh. I’m not really good with stories. I know, um... Snow White. I could probably tell you most of The Princess Bride...”

“No, a new one,” Isabel demanded. “Tell me a story you make up.”

Jodie laughed. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

She pinched Isabel’s foot through the blanket. Downstairs she heard something heavy hit the floor. She looked toward the door and then back to the innocent little girl waiting to be told a story.

“Okay. I have a story. Once upon a time, there was a queen without a kingdom. She was thrown out of her home, and a bunch of really bad people chased her to punish her for something she hadn’t done. She ran, ran, ran, as far as she could, but the people still hunted her down wherever she went. And in one of those places, she met a queen of her own. Someone who loved her and wanted her to be safe and protected no matter what. After that, they ran together.

“Then, one day, the people of her kingdom forgave the queen. She was free. But she didn’t want to go back to where she’d been so very sad. She didn’t want to keep running into those people who thought she was a bad queen, and she wanted a fresh start.” She smiled. “Also her new wife, the co-queen, didn’t like the old kingdom very much and didn’t want to live there, so they compromised.”

Isabel squirmed and tried to keep her eyes open. “Did they live happily ev’rafter?”

Jodie heard voices downstairs. “For a long time, they did. They had a very nice life in their new home. But then some very bad people wanted to take away the queen’s kingdom. They told her she needed to just sit down and be quiet and let them do whatever they wanted. She said absolutely not.”

“I like her.” Isabel’s voice was slurred on the edge of sleep.

Jodie smiled. “I do, too. These bad people hurt one of the queen’s friends very badly. They tried to hurt the queen’s new wife. So the queen decided it was time to kick them out of the kingdom.”

“Good...”

She looked at Isabel, whose eyes were barely open. She stroked the girl’s hair away from her face and tucked the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She bent down and pressed a kiss to Isabel’s forehead.

“Good night, Izzy.”

Jodie got up and turned off the overhead light. Jill had mentioned the bird lamp next to the closet was a nightlight. She went to it, switched it on, and that corner of the room was awash in soft golden-orange glow. She heard the front door close downstairs and pushed back the sense of dread that clawed at her spine. She looked at the bed, where Isabel seemed to already be asleep, so she moved on the balls of her feet to the window. She pushed aside the curtain and looked down at the front lawn of the house.

She heard the snowmobile’s engine, then saw it pull away from the house and slip across the slush that had accumulated on the driveway. Claire was driving with Randall behind her, the bulky backpack strapped to his shoulders. Claire paused at the street so Randall could dismount and close the gate behind them. Closing the castle walls, Jodie thought. He adjusted the backpack, climbed onto the machine again, and Claire headed west out of town.

“Long live the Queen,” Jodie whispered.

She watched until the sound of the engine faded, then let the curtain drop and went to worry somewhere else.