“Yes.” The word took all her effort to utter.
“Really? Your carelessness has brought people pain and frustration. Do you understand that?”
What people? she wanted to ask. Who exactly did I hurt? But the questions weren’t worth asking. There were no answers. There was no making amends. None of it made any difference to him. He was making a statement, and nothing she did would change his mind.
He hopped up onto the stool with a bottle of water. He uncapped the bottle and put it to her mouth. She drank greedily, spilling as much as she swallowed. It didn’t matter. The water cooled the fire inside her, dulled the pain, and damped down the white noise in her brain.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He smiled sympathetically. “That’s good. Let’s continue.”
He put the bit back in her mouth and removed the stool from under her feet again.
She closed her eyes in resignation, then snapped them open. She’d just heard the sound of a vehicle drawing up outside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Trinity County Sheriff’s Department,” the officer called. “Anyone here?”
Shit, Marshall Beck thought. Zo? screamed, but with the bit in her mouth, it was reduced to a growl. He spun around and drove a fist into her stomach. The scream died in her throat as she fought to get her breath back.
“You need to be quiet, Zo?. I can’t have you spoiling this.”
“Hello?” the officer yelled and followed it up with a blast from his car horn.
Beck jumped down from the stool, snatched up the chloroform rag, and gave it a fresh dousing before hopping back up. “I apologize for the interruption, but this shouldn’t take too long.”
She screamed again through her bit, but he smothered it with the rag. He watched the chloroform take effect and Zo?’s body go limp.
Beck slid off the stool and tossed the rag on his bench. “Yeah, I’m here.”
He had to be careful with this deputy. Confrontation wasn’t the answer. He had no beef with the officer. The man was only doing his job. But more importantly, his dispatch would know he was here, although the bigger question was why. This place was under the radar, so nobody should have any reason to be here unless they thought he was a suspect—and that would be problematic. He picked up his Bowie knife and slid it into his pants at the small of his back.
“Coming,” he called.
He strode out of the barn with Brando at his side. A broad-shouldered deputy in his forties was standing next to his cruiser, looking toward the house. He took the sight of a lone deputy as a good sign. This was a fishing expedition. If it had been truly serious, there’d be a whole SWAT team here.
“Hi there,” Beck said brightly. “Anything I can help you with?”
The officer spun around. His hand went to his right hip, and he drew his gun.
Beck knew in that moment his secret hideaway was no longer a secret. It wasn’t the end of things; it just meant he would be starting over again. He could easily disappear and reemerge under a different identity. He knew this day might come. He just had to lose this officer.
He stopped moving and raised his hands. “Whoa, what’s going on?”
“I need you to stop right there.”
“You’ve got a gun on me. I’m stopped. Just tell me what the problem is.”
“Are you the property owner?”
“Yes.”
“Are you Marshall Beck?”
“Yes.”
“Are you alone?” the deputy asked.
An edge crept into the deputy’s tone, but Beck didn’t detect fear. The man was a professional in a high-pressure situation.
“Yes, it’s just me and the dog. I’m here working on restoring this place.”
“Sir, I have to take you into custody.”
“Custody? Why?”
“It’s in conjunction with a San Francisco Police Department matter.”
“What matter?”
“You’ll have to take it up with them. I just have to take you into custody. Now I need you to lie facedown on the ground with your fingers interlaced behind your head.”
Despite the situation, Beck wasn’t worried. This deputy didn’t know who he was dealing with. He could be talked down.
“Oh, this is crazy. You don’t have to do this. If you need me to come with you, I’ll come with you. There’s no need for the America’s Most Wanted act.”
“Sir, I just need to you to follow procedure.”
The deputy reached for the radio mic clipped to his shoulder. Beck couldn’t let the deputy spoil his plans by making contact with his department and having them storm the place. He had to finish up here first. Had to finish with Zo?. He strode toward the deputy.
The deputy took his hand off the radio. “Hold it right there, sir.”
“OK, OK. I get it,” Beck said and stopped.
He might have gotten it, but Brando hadn’t. The dog breezed past him and kept on approaching the deputy.
“Sir, I need you to secure the dog.”
“I thought you wanted me to lie down. I can’t do both.”