The good side to this was that Deputy Kristi Donahue might do the same.
Parker set one foot on the sagging first step, paused and said, “I think I’m going to...” She completed the sentence in silent pantomime, losing consciousness and sagging. Shaw caught her before she dropped more than a few inches.
“Mr. Shaw!”
“She just fainted. Pain probably, not blood loss.”
Shaw hefted her in both arms and nodded toward the cabin. “Try the door.”
She gripped the knob and turned. “Locked. Can you pick it? Did your father teach you how to do that?”
Ashton had, yes.
But now Shaw simply reared back and kicked hard—aiming for an imaginary target about six inches on the other side of the door, to give himself extra drive.
It slammed inward with a crack that was oddly similar to a gunshot.
75
The last abode they’d escaped from had been devoted to fishing.
This was a hunting lodge. Shaw got a better view of the dozens of deer and elk heads he’d seen from outside. The glazed button eyes gazed just past them.
Weapons? He guessed no, eighty percent. The overgrown parking area suggested the place hadn’t been used for a while, and hunters would not be inclined to leave armament for any length of time in a cabin easily broken into.
A living room spanned the front of the structure. A parlor was to the right, bedrooms behind that. To the left was a dining room and, beyond that, the kitchen.
Nothing contemporary or chic about it. A 1950s bungalow.
Shaw laid Parker on the sofa in the parlor and lifted her legs. She remained passed out.
“Mr. Shaw...”
He examined Parker’s color, checked her pulse and assessed her temperature. “She’s all right. But she’s dehydrated. See if the water runs.”
As the girl left, he tried two light switches. Nothing. The placeprobably had a well, which would be inoperative if there was no power. He looked at Bee’s phone once again. Still gone.
Parker came to, sweating, looking around as she tried to orient herself. “Hannah...”
“She’ll be back in a minute.”
Shaw was surprised to hear water running.
So, city supply. Maybe they were closer to Millton than they’d thought.
The girl carried three glasses into the parlor. “Is it okay? I let it run, but...”
The water had a brown tint. Shaw took a glass and smelled it. He sipped some. “It’s just rust. Not like the Kenoah.” Hannah helped her mother sit up and the woman drank. So did her daughter. Shaw too.
“Ick,” Hannah said.
“Iron’s good for you.” Shaw’s face was deadpan.
The girl rolled her eyes as she laughed.
He walked to a front window and looked out. No sign anyone was in the woods. He said to Hannah, “First aid kits and weapons. Guns preferably. A hunting bow’ll do.”
“You can shoot one?”