What We Find (Sullivan's Crossing, #1)

“I know what I’m doing,” she said. “I know how to use it.”


“I got that message, honey,” he said, pulling it gently from her hands. “I don’t want you to use it too much, that’s all. Why don’t you go check on the girl. Sully and I will take over now.”

“Thanks,” she said, relinquishing the weapon. “I’m worried about her. Will you two be all right?”

“I got it,” Sully said, picking up the man’s rifle and checking to see that it was loaded. “Go ahead.”

When she walked in the back door Chelsea jumped off her stool at the counter and ran to her, throwing her arms around her.

“Honey, honey, it’s going to be okay. The police are on their way.”

“My mom and dad?” she asked through her sobs.

“I’m sure they’ll be notified and either come here or meet you at the hospital or police station. Are you hurt in any way, honey?”

She shook her head against Maggie’s shoulder, crying.

“Do you want me to take you over to the house? Do you want something to eat or drink?”

She leaned back and shook her head. “I just want my mom and dad,” she said.

Maggie pulled her toward the kitchen. “How’d you end up with those two, honey?”

“They tricked me. One of them was crying for help right by the stream where I was filling my water bottle, and when I looked one of them dragged me down the hill with a hand over my mouth. I couldn’t even scream. I lost my whole pack!” She started to tremble and sob again, clinging to Maggie.

“One of them used your dad’s credit card,” Maggie said.

“It was in my pocket,” she said. “I’ve had it in my pocket since we were here. I used it to pay for stuff here. It was an extra—my mom had hers. My dad said hold on to it, keep it safe.”

“When I saw that card, I knew you had been kidnapped,” Maggie said. “So—it did the trick.”

“Did you really shoot that man in the...you know?”

“Nah,” Maggie said. “I just shot him where I thought I could stop him and do the least damage. He’s fine, they’re just pellets. They hurt and sting, but he’ll live. He’ll need a few stitches and that’s all. He’s going to jail.”

Finally, the sound of distant sirens. A helicopter neared. A few minutes later there were cops everywhere, though Sully had called Stan to tell him Maggie had rescued the girl and that Chelsea was safe. Along with law enforcement they got fire and rescue and, as could be predicted, they made a mess of things with their big trucks and heavy equipment.

It was completely dark but with a nice, big moon lighting up the property. And boy, were the police pissed at Maggie. She had specifically defied Stan’s orders.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Stan raged. “You could’ve killed somebody! You could’ve hurt that little girl!”

“I took that into consideration,” she said. “If she’d gotten hurt I could still do some damage to them and get her out. But no one was gonna die from Sully’s old shotgun. Noisiest piece of gun in the West, I think,” she said. “Scared ’em. That’s what I wanted.”

“You could’ve been killed! Those big old bad boys could’ve walked right through that shot and killed you dead!”

“While I was doing my best, at least,” she said.

“Leave her be now. She did what she had to do,” Sully said. “You gonna sit outside and listen to a little girl scream?”

“It’s okay, Dad,” she said. “Let ’em get it off their chest. You can go to the house and rest. This has been a strain on you.”

“You think I’m likely to miss any of this?” he said.

“You could’a been killed, Maggie!” Stan persisted.

“Yeah, but I thought there was a better chance they’d never anticipate me coming at them with a shotgun. So...look, I shot the ceiling, hoping to scare them and hold a gun on them until police arrived, but they were going for their weapons and I was without a choice.”

From there she had to sit at one of the tables on the porch with her dad and Cal and police detectives, her interview recorded, while crime scene people examined the cabin where the shooting took place. They confiscated all the weapons, including Sully’s, the truck and everything else that belonged to the men.

While the police made it very clear they did not approve of the action she’d taken, they also conceded that with one holding a knife and the other reaching for his gun, it was self-defense. They weren’t inclined to arrest her, but they did tell her to stay at the camp and not to leave without notifying Stan.

“Are there any charges pending?” Cal asked the detective.

“The file is not closed,” he answered. “But so far I haven’t seen any evidence that would warrant arrest. Still, the investigation is not quite over.”

A while later a paramedic she’d known for about ten years, Conrad Boyle, Connie for short, came up on the porch. He grinned at her. “Nothing to worry about, Maggie,” he said. “Except the one that got hit? He says he’s gonna sue you.”