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Identity(177)

Author:Nora Roberts

“I’ll get that. He’s got a knife on his belt, Jake.”

“Yeah, I see it. I’ll get it. Feds are coming,” he said as Miles handed the gun he held to Jake and went for the water. “They contacted me right after Miles did. Morgan, did you do all this?”

She looked down at Rozwell and nodded.

“Good job. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Ladies, are you hurt?”

“He slapped us around some. He hurt Audrey more than me.”

“Their wrists and ankles are raw, Jake.” With the clippers, Nell crouched down to snip the ties.

“First aid kit.” Closing her eyes in relief, Audrey wrapped her aching arms around her mother and her daughter. “Mudroom cabinet, over the dryer. We’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Rozwell groaned when Jake cuffed him.

“He’s not.” Olivia’s hand shook a little as she took the glass of water Miles offered. “He came up against a Nash woman. You had his number, Morgan. She had his number. Got him to put the gun down, the knife down. Smart, and brave, and strong,” she managed, and finally began to weep.

Morgan looked up at Miles. “You heard me.”

“I heard you.”

“I heard you back. I knew you’d come.” She pushed up to stand, swayed a little. “My legs are going.”

“I’ve got you.” He pulled her to him, held, pressed his face to her hair. “I’ve got you.”

Beck and Morrison arrived before the ambulance, walked through the broken door.

Rozwell lay curled on the floor, eyes going black, nose swollen, blood dripping. Audrey and Olivia sat hip-to-hip on the sofa while Nell tended their wrists.

“Miles, we could use an ice bag or two.”

“I’ll get them. I know where they are.”

When he heard her voice, Rozwell tried to focus on her. “I’ll kill you.”

“No.” Miles moved into his sight line. “You won’t. She beat you. You get to live with that. Morgan Nash beat you.”

“Are you hurt?” Beck asked her.

“No. I’m all right,” Morgan insisted. “We’re all right,” she told the agents. “I need to get the ice.”

“So we see,” Morrison said. “Good work, Chief.”

“Not me. Morgan. She’s got some blood on her, and it’s all his. We’ve got an ambulance coming—and here it comes,” he added as he heard the siren. “He needs medical attention. Busted nose for sure, his throat’s bruised up, and his eyes bled some. Jaw might be busted.”

“I’ll go with him.” Morrison nodded at Beck. “You got the scene?”

“I’ve got it. First, I’m going to apologize for being two steps behind.”

“No.” Morgan came back in. “That’s just not true. You stuck with me all along. And if you hadn’t, if you hadn’t let me know so much, I wouldn’t have been able to do this. To string him out. If you hadn’t been behind him, kept him running, he would’ve come here long before this. Long before I was ready.”

“I can wish we’d taken him before you had to be ready. It can wait until morning if you’d rather, but I need statements.”

“Here, Mom.” Morgan laid an ice bag gently against her mother’s temple. “I don’t know how he got in, but when I got home, just before two, he had them in those chairs. Zip ties and duct tape. Gram.” She laid the second on Olivia’s bruised cheek. “I’ll make some tea.”

“Screw tea. Get me a whiskey. A double.” She gripped her daughter’s hand. “Make that two.”

At dawn, just as light sprinkled in the east, Morgan sat outside, drinking wine with Miles. Howl, fetched by Nell, lay sleeping under the table, one paw on her feet.

“They’re finally sleeping. I wish they’d gone to the hospital.”

“No way they’d leave you, or this house. And the EMTs cleared them both.”

“I know. I know. I just…” She tried to shove it aside. “First time I’ve had wine at dawn,” she said instead.

“Long night.”

“That stupid unsafe word wasn’t so stupid after all.”

“I’d have known anyway. You didn’t use any punctuation, no uppercase letters. That’s not how you text.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d notice that. Glad you did. I knew you were coming when you said good night. You never text good night.”