The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(88)

“You’ve never fired a gun until a minute ago, chances are you’ll miss.” Liam is jumping and shuffling from right to left, keeping his side toward me. A smaller target.

“Get away from him!” I snarl, moving forward.

Liam backs away as I get closer to the river. West has been pushed downstream by the water, being dragged over the rocks at the edge. The river’s force is just rough and strong enough to keep him from getting his footing, his hands useless behind him. His head has popped up a few times, and I hope he caught his breath.

Keeping one eye on Liam and the other on West, I stumble on the slick rocks and scramble toward the boy, moving deeper into the water. After two misses I grab his upper arm and lift his head out of the water. He breathes deep and relief swamps me. But he’s too heavy for me to haul out of the water with one hand. I shove the gun in the waist of my jeans at my stomach.

A force plows into my back, and I’m thrust face-first into deeper water, losing my grip on West.

“No!” My mouth fills with water at my shout, and my chest slams riverbed rocks.

Liam.

He lands on my back, keeping my head and torso under the water, and his hand searches around my stomach for the gun. My arms flail as I try to reach back to push him off.

His hand continues to dig, scratching my ribs.

I can’t let him have the gun.

Where is West?

Water goes up my nose, and I open my eyes underwater. Bubbles from the thrashing water cross my vision. My lungs hurt, and my brain screams for oxygen. But I’m pinned.

I need air.





48


On their dash to the shed, Rowan and Evan encountered the returning SWAT team. Rowan panicked when she didn’t see Malcolm among them. “Sit,” she told Thor, knowing he’d want to greet each man.

“It’s empty,” Captain Vargas told them. “We’re going—”

“Malcolm is gone,” she gasped, catching her breath. “He’s armed, and I think he’s gone after West on his own. We thought he was headed to the shed, but he must have known another place Liam would take the boy.”

Captain Vargas turned to his men. “Pair off. We’ll set up a search grid.”

“That’ll take too long. We have to use Thor,” Rowan said in a low voice to Evan. “There’s no way Malcolm knows how to use that gun. Liam would never allow him to handle one. Someone is going to end up dead. Especially if Liam is armed too.”

Her mind sped ahead, already planning. “Captain! Thor can search. He can follow Malcolm’s trail from the other building.”

Captain Vargas frowned. “You sure? I don’t know if that would turn out to be faster. The guy used to live here. His scent will be everywhere.”

“Thor can pinpoint the most recent.”

“Okay . . . but I’m still going to have my guys work a grid.” He turned back to his men.

Rowan ignored him. She’d encountered plenty of distrust on searches. The best plan was simply to get to work and let the naysayers go their own way. Evan looked about ready to argue with the captain, and she touched his arm. “It’s okay. Less distraction for Thor.” Evan was armed, and Rowan had her little backpack of supplies she always took when she and Thor went into the woods.

“We’ll use the pillow from that place as a scent article.” She rubbed Thor’s head. “Ready to work?”

His tail swept a V in the dirt, his eyes eager.

play

Rowan watched her dog. He knew what they were about to do, and he loved the hunt. It was his favorite game. “Let’s go.” She started to jog back to the little house.

It’s not really a house. I don’t know what to call it.

“That place,” she mumbled.

“What?” asked Evan, running beside her.

“Nothing.”

Minutes later Thor sniffed the pillow and turned his excited gaze on Rowan. She’d decided to start at the destroyed front door, knowing Malcolm had been there recently. “Find it,” she ordered. He spun and started to smell along the ground, moving at a slow trot, his tail slightly raised. He stopped and lifted his head, his mouth opening the slightest bit to get more scent. Then he took off, headed in the opposite direction from the shed.

Rowan and Evan followed.

Thor moved at a confident pace, clearly in work mode. Rowan spotted an occasional footprint in the dry, dusty dirt and darker spots where pine needles had been recently disturbed.

“We’re going the right way,” she said to Evan.

“That’s a damn fine dog you have.”

She nodded. “I agree.”

Thor never stopped and searched for the scent, which told Rowan the trail was very recent. She wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Don’t do anything stupid, Malcolm.

She hoped her brother wouldn’t get hurt. A gun in the hands of a person with little experience was a dangerous thing. He could be quickly disarmed unless he was committed to shooting someone.

He hates Liam with all his being.

Rowan quickened her pace to catch up with Thor. She suspected Malcolm would fire if given the chance, no matter the consequences.

The crack of gunfire filled the forest.

Thor halted and looked back at Rowan. “Find it,” she told him as alarm shot through her limbs. She’d hesitated to give the command, not wanting to send her dog into a dangerous situation.