“That’s enough, Ronnie,” Afton said tiredly. “Just shut the hell up.”
She walked back to the house. With the door standing wide open and the wind howling, most of the smoke had cleared from the kitchen.
Which, Afton decided, wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
Because she finally found the missing Marjorie.
Hanging upside down, her feet tied neatly to a heavy metal light fixture, Marjorie dangled above the battered kitchen table. With her toes pointed toward the ceiling and her housecoat fluttering in the breeze, she looked like an upside-down ballerina twirling a macabre dance of death.
In the oven, Afton found the melted, smoking remains of several dolls.
46
IT took Wisconsin’s Department of Transportation two hours to finally get through. In the dying light of the afternoon, the bright yellow glow of a snowplow’s high beams heralded the procession. Following right behind the enormous plow were two Wisconsin State Patrol cruisers, an ambulance, and Max driving the Navigator.
When Afton heard the roar of the dozer and the whoop of the police sirens, she stepped outside and met them all on the front porch. The pink cashmere blanket was draped around her shoulders.
The two State Patrol guys were the first of the first responders to flounder through the snow to reach her.
“You okay?” one of them asked. He had kind eyes, a droopy walrus mustache, and his name tag said WENDORF.
Afton nodded. “I’m okay. We’re all okay.” Then she reconsidered her words. “Well, there is a dead woman hanging in the kitchen. And the man I shot is lying in there, too.” Ronnie had managed to pull himself back inside the house, where he collapsed. Afton had secured his wrists, wrapped a tourniquet around his leg, and covered him with a blanket. She’d also located the fuse box and restored the lights.
Two EMTs followed as the troopers rushed in. Carrying black medical bags and tugging a collapsible gurney over the snow as if it were a bobsled, they scrambled up the unshoveled steps to the porch.
“You’ve got casualties?” one of the EMTs asked. She was a young woman bundled in a navy blue parka and looked nervous.
“One casualty and one gunshot victim,” Afton said. “Plus we’ve got a newborn and her mom and another three-month-old baby.” Her words felt dry and rough in the back of her throat. “It’s the Minneapolis baby who was kidnapped.”
*
I had to shoot the boy,” Afton told Max as they stood in the overheated living room. “He was trying to slap on a pair of snowshoes and take off over the fields.”
“The pizza guy,” Max said. “He drew on you?”
“He shot at me a couple of times, then tried to shish-kabob me with a ski pole.” She hugged herself tightly as if she’d just endured some great natural disaster and had come out the other side, banged up but still alive. “Ronnie Sorenson. He’s probably the one who murdered Muriel Pink.”
“Even if he got away, he wouldn’t have gone far,” Max said. “Thacker didn’t just give us the go-ahead; he also notified the governor of Wisconsin, who hit the panic button and put the entire state on high alert. They were gathering an army of law enforcement, from sheriff’s departments to state troopers to Fish and Wildlife guys.”
“The black helicopter with the guys sliding down the ropes,” Afton said with a half smile.
“Something like that, yeah.” Then, “How’s the baby?”
“Elizabeth Ann,” Afton said. “She seems fine. No ill effects that I could see. But I’m glad the EMTs are checking her out.”
“How are you?” Max asked.
“I’m hanging in there,” Afton said. “Obviously a little shell-shocked.”
“Yeah, you’ve got that thousand-yard stare.”
“I’m sorry, I probably could have handled things differently.”
“You didn’t shoot the old lady?” Max asked. “Marjorie?”
Afton shook her head. “She was the one firing at me. The only reason she missed was because I smacked her with my ice ax.”
“And then she came at you again?”
Afton looked nervous. “That’s when I hit her in the head and she tumbled down the stairs.”
“So you never used the gun on her? That’s all you used to defend yourself with? That stupid ice ax?”
Afton started to nod, then shook her head. “Not so stupid. Saved my life.” Tears seeped into the corners of her eyes. “But the boy. He just kept coming at me.”
“You did just fine,” Max said. He put his arms around her gently. “No, better than fine. You did exactly what was called for in the line of duty.”
47
ELIZABETH Ann Darden was suddenly not one bit sleepy as she snuggled in Afton’s arms. Her eyes were wide open as she focused on Afton’s face with a good deal of curiosity.