He disappeared and she fought to roll over, using her left elbow for leverage because her right arm was numb and her left hand was probably broken. She’d pushed herself to her knees when Hanson grabbed her hair and dragged her to her feet, but she fought, hot tears filling her eyes when her scalp burned.
‘It doesn’t matter if you fight or not. You’ll be just as dead.’
She felt the cold sting of the blade at her throat and knew that Adam would find her this way. I’m sorry, Adam. I’m so sorry.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Monday 21 December, 1.10 P.M.
‘Please, Linnie, give me the gun,’ Adam repeated and watched all the emotions cross Linnie’s face. Fear, hate, sorrow. Hope.
She drew a deep breath and handed Adam her gun, handle first. Then she put Mikey Hanson in Scarlett’s arms and Adam’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.
Scarlett unhooked the radio handset from her vest. ‘Hostage situation neutralized. Child is under our protection. Proceed with next step.’
Which was Deacon and Trip’s systematic search of the neighbor’s home.
‘Are you going to arrest me now?’ Linnie asked as a policewoman came through the front door to take the child from Scarlett.
‘No,’ Adam said quietly. ‘You will have to answer for the hostage situation, but we’re not putting you under arrest.’
There was movement at the corner of his eye. Rita pushing to her knees. ‘The hell you’re not! She kidnapped me at gunpoint. She held my son at gunpoint!’
‘Rita, lie down!’ Adam barked.
‘No! Give me back my son!’
‘Not at this time,’ Scarlett told her. ‘We’ll be calling social services for a temporary placement while we figure out how much you know, Mrs Hanson.’
Rita’s jaw dropped. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘On your stomach,’ Scarlett commanded, then gestured for another officer to come in. ‘Stand next to Mrs Hanson. Make sure she remains face down.’
Adam cleared his throat and gentled his voice as he turned back to Linnie. ‘Please stay here with Detective Bishop. The other detectives have to clear the neighborhood because Hanson is out there somewhere.’
‘The other detectives?’ Linnie asked. ‘Not you?’
The girl was perceptive. ‘No, not me. I’m no longer on the case. I only came now because you asked me to.’
‘Detective Kimble was shot at this morning,’ Scarlett explained and Linnie’s eyes widened in shock. ‘His friend was killed. We believe Detective Hanson was the shooter.’
‘No.’ A sob tore from Rita’s throat and she sank back down to the carpet.
Linnie bit at her lip. ‘I wounded him. I don’t know if it’s important, but tell the other detectives that I stabbed him in his left arm. Here.’ She pointed to the underside of her upper arm. ‘It was enough that he let me go. That’s how I got away on Saturday.’
Adam gave her a nod of gratitude. ‘Thank you. Detective Bishop will tell them.’ He glanced at Scarlett. ‘Call me when it’s all done.’ He left the Hansons’ house and ducked so that the line of SUVs in the driveway provided cover. At the bottom of the driveway a sedan waited, tucked behind the SUVs. The window rolled down, revealing Isenberg at the wheel.
‘Get in,’ she said. She waited until he was buckled in to add, ‘Well done. We’ll send a secure vehicle for Linnie and the little boy. It’s safer for them to stay inside until then.’
He leaned his head back on the headrest. ‘I am so tired, Lynda.’
‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘Get some rest. If you need to hit a meeting later, let me know. I’ll go with you.’
Adam’s throat grew thick. He’d started to say thank you when Isenberg broke into a barrage of cursing, so he chuckled instead. ‘What?’
‘The fucking reporters. It’s like an obstacle course. Slouch forward. I don’t want to give them any shots of your face for their rags.’
He complied, pulling his tactical helmet forward. He heard a shout from outside the car, but didn’t look up, even when Isenberg cackled quietly.
‘I figured they’d move,’ she said. ‘Those cameras look damn expensive. Wouldn’t want them run over because their owners won’t get out of the damn road.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t want to stick around back there,’ Adam said. ‘It’s just about to get interesting.’
‘Nah. I trust Deacon and Scarlett. My job these days is to keep my team healthy. You are a valued member of my team and your career matters to me. Ergo, I’m making sure your ass is as far away from Hanson as I can possibly take it.’
Again his throat grew thick. ‘Thank you. For everything. For telling me about your sobriety. Because that shows me that I can still have a career.’
‘Yeah,’ she said gruffly. ‘It’s fine. All good.’
It is good, he thought, oddly comfortable with the idea that Scarlett, Deacon, and Trip would be the ones to bring Hanson in. It took Isenberg a few minutes to get past the media, but they were eventually free of the community.
‘You can look up now,’ Isenberg said. ‘No more— What the fuck?’
A black SUV was parked on the other side of the road, a familiar Subaru parked behind it. ‘That’s Marcus O’Bannion’s car. I guess the Ledger wants a bite of the story.’
Adam quickly saw what Isenberg meant. The owner of the Ledger was standing in the road, waving his arms for them to stop. Isenberg pulled her sedan in behind Marcus’s Subaru, then gasped.
‘Oh God. Is that Nash Currie?’ She jumped out of the sedan and Adam followed, conscious that he was vulnerable to another attack but uncaring.
Because Nash had been driving Meredith. And the van was nowhere to be seen.
Isenberg and Adam hurried to where Nash lay in a dirty snowbank. Stone O’Bannion knelt beside him, fingers on Nash’s wrist.
‘It is Nash,’ Adam said, dread squeezing his heart. ‘What happened?’
Stone O’Bannion gently put Nash’s arm by his side. ‘He’s alive, but his pulse is low. I don’t know. He’s got a huge bruise on his forehead and he’s not conscious.’
‘Oh my God. Lynda, he was driving Meredith,’ Adam said.
Isenberg squeezed his shoulder. ‘Keep it together, Adam. Will you stay with Detective Currie?’ she asked Stone.
‘Of course,’ Marcus said from behind them. He was finishing his call to 911. ‘Thank you. Yes, I’ll hold, but a detective and lieutenant arrived and I’m going to talk to them. I’ll put you on speaker.’
Isenberg frowned and quickly walked around the SUV and peered at the back window. ‘A bloody handprint.’ She huffed out a frustrated breath. ‘Because somebody’s in there. There’s an old man under that tarp. His hand is visible. Marcus, ask for a second ambulance. We have two victims.’
Without hesitation, she opened the driver’s door and hit the hatch release. A few seconds later she was leaning into the hatch. ‘Caucasian male, in his mid-sixties. His head is bashed in, but he’s alive. And conscious. Sir, what is your name?’
She leaned up abruptly and rushed back to Nash. ‘That’s Hanson’s next-door neighbor. Hanson lured him out here, then hit him and left him.’
Nash groaned and Adam, Lynda, and Stone gathered close to him. ‘Adam? I’m sorry. He took her. Hanson. I saw the bloody hand. Stopped. Started to radio location.’ Another smaller groan. ‘Hanson pulled me out of the van and took off. East.’
Adam ran for the sedan before Nash could say another word, Isenberg at his heels. ‘Nash’s gun was gone,’ Adam said as Isenberg pulled back onto the road like a shot. ‘Hanson is armed.’ And he’s got Meredith.
‘They can’t be that far ahead of us.’ Nevertheless, Isenberg punched the gas. This was an old road and curvy as hell. They rounded a bend in the road and there it was. The van had crossed the oncoming lane, gone off the road, and was wrapped around a tree. ‘I see the van,’ Adam said, his racing heart skipping a beat. ‘But I don’t see her.’ His reflex was to rush in, guns blazing. But that could get Meredith killed.
Think. This is critical.
Isenberg pulled the sedan onto the shoulder and together they made their way down the embankment to the van. Tightening his grip on his service weapon, Adam braced himself for what he’d see.
Don’t be hurt. Don’t be hurt. God, please don’t let her be hurt. He crept up to the van, gun raised.