Blood Ties

CHAPTER 18

HOLLIS CRADLED HER coffee mug between her hands and looked rather blearily at Miranda. “I know I slept. The clock says so. But I feel like I just had a lost weekend or something.”

“According to Reese, it took hours and you expended a great deal of energy in healing Diana. That’s the way it works when you heal. In a way, you give up part of yourself. Bonnie tells me it’s quite an amazing feeling.”

Considering, Hollis said, “Right now it’s mostly a tired feeling. So you guys already knew about Samuel.”

“We worked it out.”

“And you’ve identified the sniper?”

“Yeah, the pieces finally came together, thanks in large part to the information Elliot Brisco provided.”

“Glad the son of a bitch did something right. Poor Diana.”

“Yeah, despite how well she’s handling it now, it’s not going to be easy for her.”

“Will LeMott destroy him? Brisco?”

“Probably. He’s … merciless. And we could never have proven anything against Brisco in a courtroom.”

“So we let LeMott have his revenge?”

“Let’s call it justice,” Miranda suggested.

Hollis nodded. “It’s fine with me. Jesus. Anyway, what about the sniper?”

“Knowing who he is is one thing. What we have to do now is draw him out.”

“And how’re you—we—going to do that?”

“Bait.” There was a crackle in her ear, and Miranda heard her name. She reached up to activate the tiny com. “Go.”

“Got him,” Gabriel said.

“He give you any trouble?”

“Nah, came along like a lamb. Smiling yet. But wait’ll you get a look at what’s in his basement.”

“I can hardly wait. You know what to do.”

“Copy that.”

Miranda tapped the com again, then said to Hollis, “Sure you’re up for this?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this final curtain to drop for a long, long time.”

“I think we all have. Don’t forget your vest.”

“Right. Where’s Reese?”

“Out there with Dean and the others. And I’m hoping his spider sense is working, because the rest of us are having trouble sensing much of anything.” Miranda finished her own coffee and got to her feet. “Stay clear of the command center. I hope I’m wrong, but I’ve got a feeling it’ll be a target.”

“So who’s manning it?”

“Nobody. See you outside.” Miranda left the B&B’s dining room, adjusting her vest and the gun on her hip a bit absently and then going out onto the porch. She knew there were agents and cops and deputies all around, but it was peculiarly quiet, and that bothered her.

She touched her com again. “Anything?”

The response whispered back immediately: “No. But Reese is antsy and so am I. Something’s not right.”

“But you’re in position?”

“Yeah. Watch yourself.”

Miranda strolled along the sidewalk, outwardly casual or preoccupied, wondering if, this time, they had been a bit too clever for their own good. Hiding Bishop in plain sight had worked once before, but here there was an inside man to contend with and no way for them to be sure how he would react.

Because he had, so far, played his part to perfection.

She saw Tony and Jaylene standing a few yards from the command center near the front of the sheriff’s department and went to join them. “Gabe should be here any minute,” she told them quietly.

Tony almost idly, watching a casual gathering across the street of deputies and several agents, including Dean Ramsey, said, “Are we sure the bait will draw him out?”

“It’ll draw a reaction,” Miranda said. “Beyond that, I don’t know what’s going to happen.” She watched as DeMarco joined the group of cops, saying something that made two of them laugh.

“A vision right about now would be nice,” Jaylene murmured.

“Tell me about it. Unfortunately, we’re flying blind this time.” Whatever else Miranda might have said was pushed aside as she watched Gabriel Wolf escort a handcuffed man toward the sheriff’s department.

The man was almost shockingly ordinary. Around forty or so, he was a little above medium height, with a stocky build and an untidy thatch of dark hair. And he was smiling.

“How come serial killers so seldom look the part?” Tony wondered aloud. “Jesus, really the guy next door. That’s disturbing.”

“He’s an animal,” Miranda said. “Doesn’t matter what he looks like.”

“Oh, yeah, no argument. It’s just—”

Miranda saw DeMarco turn suddenly, staring toward a cluster of trees on a low ridge behind the sheriff’s department. In almost the same instant, the handcuffed prisoner’s head jerked, blood and tissue sprayed out of what had been his face, and as he sort of stumbled and then dropped to the pavement there was, finally, the craa-aack of a high-powered rifle.

Before the echoes had died, there was a second craa-aack.

And then silence.

Many of the cops and agents had hit the deck, but several of them remained on their feet. Miranda caught DeMarco’s eye and waited for his nod before walking out slowly to join Gabriel.

With a singular lack of pity, Gabe said, “Well, he saved the state a whole lot of trouble and expense. And deprived the shrinks of another serial killer to study. No great loss, I’m thinking.”

As Miranda had expected, other cops and agents were slowly coming to join them, taking their cue from the calm pair standing over the executed prisoner. But her heart skipped a beat when she realized one in particular wasn’t among them.

Before she could get her thoughts organized, Chief Deputy Neil Scanlon stepped out of the command center, holding a small, limp body to his chest like a shield. Ruby. She was unconscious at best, possibly already dead.

But there’s no sign of a wound, so maybe… Goddammit….

“Where’s BJ, Miranda?” Scanlon called out, his voice unnaturally calm.

Despite a muttered curse from Gabe, Miranda took a step toward Scanlon. At this distance, she knew she could take him without hitting Ruby. If she could get her gun out and aimed before he fired his. Even without the bulky vest restricting her movements a bit, the odds weren’t good.

“He’s gone, Neil,” she called back, her voice as calm as his. “When he shot Rex, it pinpointed his location for us. And we were ready. Where’s Galen?”

“I put a few bullets into him. But we both know that won’t keep him down long, right? Long enough, though. Just long enough. Where’s Bishop?”

Very deliberately, Miranda said, “He’s the one who took out BJ.”

Something vicious flashed across that tough face, and Scanlon moved Ruby slightly. “Tit for tat. I’m going to take out your little freak here.”

“Why bother? It’s over.”

“Not quite. If I can’t have Bishop—”

His hand was moving in a blur, aiming his gun toward her. Miranda moved as well, instinctively throwing herself sideways.

The craa-aack of a rifle sounded almost simultaneously with the duller report of Scanlon’s gun. Miranda saw his head virtually explode, saw him tilt and fall toward the pavement, still holding Ruby’s limp body. She pushed herself up and ran, reaching the girl only heartbeats later.

“Ruby? Ruby?” As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a mark on the child.

Time seemed to slow abruptly. Miranda was dimly aware of Hollis racing toward her from the direction of the B&B, aware of other pounding feet and voices, but all she saw was Ruby’s pale face.

Then her eyes fluttered open, and she whispered, “He gave me… some kind of… shot. It’s okay. I… knew I was … a pawn. Had to… be… sacrificed… to win. I couldn’t… hide Bishop… and me too…. Tell Galen… not his fault. Don’t be sad…. “A single long breath escaped her, and her head rolled to the side.

Miranda felt a jolt of pain and thought that it didn’t hurt enough, that nothing could hurt enough for the loss of this child.

“Hollis—help her. Help Ruby.”

Hollis reached for Ruby, gently removing the girl from Miranda’s grasp—and then handing her to someone else. She was speaking, but what she was saying made no sense.

“Miranda, lie back. Easy. Let Gabe help you. Jesus, get her vest off—”

“What’re you talking about? I’m not…”

Bishop ran up at that moment, his face ashen. He dropped his rifle and then dropped to his knees, cradling her head. “Miranda—”

She looked up at his face, wanting to reassure him that she was fine, but then she felt another stabbing pain, this one deep in her belly. And she knew what was happening. What had happened.

“No,” she whispered. “Oh, God…Noah, I’m sorry…” And then a white curtain fell, and she fell with it into silence.

“Hollis—help her, please.” Bishop’s voice was hoarse.

As soon as the vest was out of the way, Hollis put both her hands over the bullet wound low on Miranda’s rounded abdomen. She went still for an instant, her eyes closed, then looked at Bishop in shock.

“Shit. I can’t—Bishop, I can’t save him. The baby. He’s already gone.”

He closed his eyes for an instant, then nodded jerkily. “I know. Just—help Miranda.”

She nodded in return, closing her eyes again to concentrate, to pour all the energy she could call up from inside herself to heal….

“Feeling better?” Reese asked, sitting down beside Hollis on the big sofa in the B&B’s front parlor.

“The energy’s coming back. Slowly. I’m fine. Still worried about Miranda, though. I should be at the clinic—”

“No, you shouldn’t. You should be here where you are, getting your strength back. Besides, I think we all know that Bishop and Miranda would rather be alone right now. To grieve.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I heard the medic say she was at least five months along. It didn’t show.”

“Those loose sweaters of hers. And the vest that was specially made to be a little longer in front.”

“She shouldn’t have been here.”

“Probably not. But they weigh risks all the time, those two. So many people were dying, and they felt responsible. They knew the bodies were bait and this was a trap, for Bishop and for the SCU. Neither one of them could walk away. It wasn’t going to stop until they stopped it.”

Hollis nodded slowly. “I know they function best as a team. I know they weigh risks. And it was their risk to take. Still… I wish I could have done more for them.”

“You probably saved Miranda’s life, Hollis. You may have even made it possible for her to get pregnant again someday. But there was nothing you could do to save that baby. The bullet did too much damage. He was already gone.”

“I know, I know. Just… I’m sorry for them. To lose their baby and Ruby—I don’t know if Bishop will ever forgive himself.”

“They did what they could to protect Miranda. The vest should have protected her. And probably would have, if she hadn’t dived to the side like that. Her training and instincts betrayed her, for once. As for Ruby… Well, maybe Bishop shouldn’t forgive himself for that.”

Hollis looked at him. “You really feel that way?”

DeMarco hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Just like I don’t know whether Galen will ever be the same again after finding out the brothers from hell have been using him as a spyglass.”

Hollis winced. “Yeah, that’s definitely a rough one. I mean, I’m glad we didn’t have a traitor on the team, but to find out you have—had—three older brothers with serious mental issues would be traumatic enough without being used like that and then being shot by big brother Neil.”

“Yeah. Family.”

She looked at him again, not at all sure whether he was making a wry comment or just voicing a wry truth. She cleared her throat. “Um… listen.”

“Yeah?”

“I have a dim memory of saying some… really weird things at the hospital last night. Because I was so tired. After I healed Diana.”

He lifted a brow at her. “I don’t recall anything weird.”

“No?”

“No.”

She began to feel relieved. Suspicious but relieved. I’ll ask Diana later. Or not, “Okay, Good, then.”

He eyed her. “Something else is bugging you. What?”

“You’ll laugh.”

“Would that be so bad? I could use a laugh about now.”

Hollis frowned, then said, “I’m seriously bummed to know you can get yanked out of heaven. I mean… it’s heaven. Is nothing sacred?”

“What are you talking about?” His voice was patient but amused around the edges.

“Diana’s poor mom got yanked out of heaven—apparently—and sent back here to try to stop her father. How crazy is that?”

“Pretty crazy.”

It was her turn to eye him. “You don’t believe me.”

“Sorry. Actually, it’s heaven, not you, that I don’t believe in.”

“Well, I’m not sure I believe in it either. In fact, I’m more sure now that I don’t, because if you can get yanked out of heaven—”

Hollis glanced toward the doorway and broke off abruptly, her eyes widening. DeMarco watched gooseflesh rise on her bare arm and was aware of a tangle of emotions rather than thoughts.

Astonishment. Wonder. Happiness. A kind of contentment.

And awe.

“Ruby,” she murmured.

He waited until she blinked, as though coming out of a dream, and said, “You saw her spirit. Is she all right?”

“She’s better than all right. Wow.”

Curious, he said, “You see spirits all the time.”

“Yeah.” Hollis smiled at him. “But this is the first time I’ve ever seen one… with wings.”