She got him through the neck.

“Ah” was all Beau said, clutched his throat, and turned to face her, the gun swinging her way.

She fired again, this time a death shot, even for a derringer, through his chest. Beau fell off the porch, landing on his back, his eyes open to the rainy night. The orange ball of flame flickered in his open eyes.

Miles Kettering said, his arms wrapped tight around the children’s heads, “Sam, I’ve got to see to things here. Promise me that you and Keely won’t move an inch. Keep your faces against the house, that van just might blow up some more. Do you hear me? Not an inch.”

Miles raced down, pulled Savich over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and went into the house. Both children raced after him. Good, she didn’t want them to see Beau.

“Put him on his belly on the sofa. I’ll call nine-one-one,” Katie said and quickly dialed. She got Marge, who always sounded breathless, told her to get an ambulance out here, and Wade, too, then hung up. “Not more than ten minutes. Now, let’s see how bad you’re hurt, Agent Savich.” But first she’d have to move her daughter aside.

Savich said, “You’re Keely?” One of his arms was dangling over the side of the sofa, and his feet hung off the other end.

The little girl gently smoothed her fingertips over his face. “I’m Keely and my mama will take care of you. She takes care of everybody. Do you know they pay her to do that?”

Savich didn’t want to laugh, but it came out of him anyway. It died in a gasp. His back was on fire.

“I’m glad they pay her, Keely. How bad is it, Sheriff?”

It was Miles who said, “You’ve got a long horizontal gash, middle of your back, just above your waist, probably from a piece of flying metal. It doesn’t look too deep, Savich, but it’s nasty. You just hang on. Here’s the sheriff.”

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“We need to apply some pressure, Agent Savich—”

“Just Savich. Or Dillon, that’s what my wife calls me.”

“Okay, Dillon, I’ll be right back. I’m going to have to put some pressure on this wound and it’s going to hurt, I’m sorry.”

Savich closed his eyes and willed himself far away, back with Sherlock and Sean, his own little boy.

“Miles?”

“Yes, I’m right here, Savich.”

“You sure Sam’s okay?”

“I’m here, Uncle Dillon,” Sam said, and patted Savich’s shoulder. “Keely and I are both fine. Did you see the sheriff shoot Beau? Whap! She got him right in the neck, then shot him again when he turned that gun on Papa.”

So much for protecting the children, Katie thought as she came back into the living room with a thick towel. She leaned down and pressed the towel hard against the wound.

Savich didn’t know where the moan came from, didn’t know he had it in him. The woman was very strong.

“Tell me what happened, Sheriff,” Savich said.

Keely, her fingers still touching his cheek, said, “I heard that bad man talking to Mama in the living room, and I knew he wanted Sam.”

Katie said, “And so you made a lump in your bed with a pillow, and went to wake up Sam.”

The little girl nodded. She stuck her hand out to Sam, who took it. “He shoved up the window in my room and we climbed out on my oak tree.” She frowned. “Sam wanted to help you but I told him that you’re really tough, Mama, and that you would fix Beau’s hash. Is that Beau out there?”

“That’s his sorry self, yes,” Katie said. “Now, Dillon, how are you doing?”

“Okay,” he said, and she heard the pain in his voice.

“You don’t seem to be bleeding through the pressure. The paramedics should be here any minute. You’re going to be okay.”

“Make sure you keep the kids with you.”

“You can count on that,” Miles said, and he knew that all the adults wondered what could possibly motivate those two to come after Sam again. Money, there had to be lots of money in it for them.

Katie looked from Keely to Sam. “Now we’ve got two heroes. Well done, kids.”

They heard the sirens in the distance.

Katie lightly patted his shoulder. “Just another minute. I guess Clancy is dead. I can’t get near the van, the flames are just too hot and the smoke’s too thick.”

“He couldn’t have survived that blast,” Savich said. “Don’t worry about it.”

She heard men’s voices outside, one she recognized. “It’s Wade, one of my deputies.”




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