I quickly tell Jen to take over with Roy and send Dalton this way. Then I race after Diana. By the time I reach her, she’s veered onto a path for easier running, and we can hear Paul crashing ahead.
“You saw Roy stop me,” I say as I cut in front of her on the path. “You should have waited.”
“I knew you’d catch up, and it gave more weight to my story. Anyway, Paul went for it. He gave me this song and dance about how he hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, but Garcia betrayed him, and he isn’t really a bad guy.”
“Just misunderstood?”
Diana snorts. “Pretty much. I pretended I bought it, didn’t blame him et cetera, et cetera. He agreed to pay me to keep my mouth shut. I was haggling on the price, waiting for you to jump in, when Jen showed up. Where were you?”
“Roy, again.”
“Seriously? Can’t you just shoot him? Or Jen? I would pay you to shoot both of them.”
I’m not angry at Jen. We both underestimated Roy’s threat and wrote him off as a blustering bully. He is, yet that doesn’t mean he can’t still be dangerous. As for misunderstanding the situation with Diana and Paul, I can’t blame Jen for that, either. I just wish she’d chased Paul and left Diana to us.
This is the problem with setting a trap. It’s not a controlled environment, as it would be if I just brought Paul in for questioning. I’d known an arrest wouldn’t work, though. I’d been operating on a theory with no solid evidence. So I had to trick Paul into incriminating himself, which meant trusting Diana to stay on script and trusting Rockton to go about its business without any fresh crisis erupting until I finished. Which is, yes, kind of like asking the earth to stop revolving for a few minutes.
It’s gone quiet up ahead. I stop and put my fingers to my lips. Diana nods. I take out my gun and pivot, searching the surrounding trees for any sign of movement.
Voices drift from somewhere ahead. A laugh. A good-natured “Hey!” More laughter.
A work party. I check my watch. It’s almost five, exactly when any work parties would be heading in.
That’s why Paul has gone quiet. He’s waiting for them to pass. I pinpoint where I last heard him and begin creeping forward while motioning Diana to stay back. She lets me get ten paces ahead and then follows. Good enough. Probably best if she doesn’t stay in one place, the perfect target should Paul decide—
A cry from up ahead. A shout. A woman—Nicole—saying, “Let him go, or I’ll put a bullet—”
Paul cuts in. “You set that rifle down, or I’ll slit this kid’s throat.”
I break into a run. I round a corner, and I see them on the very path I’d been taking. It’s a chopping party, three guys and Nicole, as their militia guard. She’s still arguing with Paul, but she’s lowered her rifle.
Paul has a hostage.
Sebastian.
He’s holding the kid backed into his chest, one arm around him, the other with a knife at his throat.
Paul’s trying to get Nicole to put the rifle down, and she’s trying to get him to let Sebastian go. I wave for Diana to stay where she is, as I slip through the forest. I come out behind Paul. Nicole sees me. I motion for her to set the rifle on the ground. She does, her gaze locked on Paul.
“Casey!” Paul shouts. “I know you’re out there. I heard you.”
I glance around and spot another figure by Diana. It’s Dalton. He’s leaning in as she explains the situation to him.
I turn back to Paul. I can’t shoot him from here. Not without hitting Sebastian, too. I could threaten, but I won’t with that knife at the young man’s throat. Even sneaking up and grabbing Paul is too risky. He could startle and cut Sebastian without meaning to. I have the advantage of surprise … and no way to use it.
“Casey!”
I holster my gun and pull my jacket closed. Then I clear my throat and say, “Right here.”
Paul wheels, taking Sebastian with him. The young man winces as the knife nicks him. Nicole goes for her rifle on the ground, but Paul expects that, and his head whips around with “Anyone moves, and I kill him. I swear it.”
“I’m moving,” I say, my voice loud enough for Dalton to overhear. “I’m going to pass on your left side and walk over to stand with the others, okay?”
“Hands in the air.”
I nod, lift them, and walk to Nicole and the other two residents. They’re unarmed. We leave the hatchets hidden at the chopping site—along with the wood—until week’s end when they haul it back with the ATV and trailer.
“I know you killed Marshal Garcia,” I say. “You admitted it to Diana, and Jen overheard. You know there’s no way out of this. Just let Sebastian go—”