North of Nowhere: a Thriller, page 31
“Let her go,” Boyd told Jackson, who held a gun to Kristen’s side. He had a firm grip on her as she fought him. “Now, Jackson.”
“She’s coming with me. I have a deal with Frankie, you’re not a part of it. If you want to see your little bitch alive you’ll let us leave now.”
As Ruby watched, Boyd signed to Kristen to go limp. Jason, fortunately, was standing out of range at the corner of the laundry and kitchen.
Immediately, Kristen sagged in Jackson’s arms at the same time Jackson was glancing behind him toward the open front door as the cold air rushed in.
He tried to pull Kristen back with him, but she hung there, limp, boneless, like kids do when they don’t want to be picked up.
“Down!” Boyd shouted.
Jackson pulled his gun away from Kristen and fired at Boyd. Ruby pressed the trigger three times, hitting Jackson in the upper back and shoulder. He fell to his knees, letting go of Kristen at the same time. She crawled away, and he turned his gun to her.
Ruby fired again and kicked him down, forcing him to lie prone.
“Boyd, get his gun!” she shouted.
Boyd was on the ground. He didn’t move.
“Kristen, are you okay?” Ruby asked. “Kristen!”
Ruby kicked Jackson’s gun away from him. Nick came in behind her and pulled zip ties out of his pocket. He pulled Jackson’s limp hands behind him and tied them quickly.
“Kristen!” Ruby shouted.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She looked up at Ruby. “How—” Then she saw Boyd lying on the kitchen floor. “Dad? Ruby! Boyd’s bleeding!”
Kristen half ran, half crawled over to him.
Ruby checked Jackson’s pulse. Nothing. Johnny was unconscious in the kitchen, and Nick checked his pulse while she went to her brother.
There was so much blood.
Kristen sat on the floor next to Boyd. “Dad? Dad, you’re going to be okay. Ruby, call an ambulance. Call someone. Please.”
Nick opened drawers and grabbed a stack of dishcloths, telling Jason, “Go get the first aid kit!”
Jason carefully walked past them, rubbed Kristen’s shoulder, then ran down the hall.
Nick squatted next to Boyd. “I reconnected the phone lines. Police and ambulance are already on their way, it’s just going to take time.”
“He doesn’t have time,” Kristen said.
Ruby took the towels from Nick and pressed them on Boyd’s chest. Immediately, they soaked through.
Kristen was crying. “Dad, please, don’t die. Don’t die.”
“Kristen.”
“Shh. Save your strength. Ruby, can’t you help him? Get more towels? Something? Stop the bleeding? Stop—”
“Baby, shh,” Boyd said, blood dripping out of his mouth. “You’re going to be okay.”
She couldn’t stop crying. She took off her sweater and pressed it on his chest over the pile of dishcloths. “More pressure! He needs more pressure on the wound, until the ambulance comes. Right? Right?”
Ruby handed Nick her gun. “I don’t know who else is here, keep watch.” She put pressure on Boyd’s wound with Kristen. She knew he wasn’t going to survive.
A pool of blood had formed beneath him. The bullet had left a nasty exit wound.
“Kristen,” Boyd said, coughing. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Just—fight! Fight! I don’t want you dead. I don’t want you dead,” she repeated.
“You were my princess. I should have protected you.” His eyes closed and his voice trailed off.
Kristen hugged him. “I forgive you, Daddy. I forgive you for everything. Fight!”
“I don’t. I don’t deserve it,” Boyd whispered. He coughed and more blood poured out of his mouth. Ruby wiped it up. She folded one of the towels and put it under his head. “Ruby,” Boyd said. She had to lean close to hear what he said. She took his hand. “Do you remember your sixteenth birthday?”
It took her a moment, but she remembered. She blinked back tears.
“Of course I do.” It was the last good day of her childhood, before she knew anything about her family and how they made their money. She and Boyd and Tony had climbed to the top of Eagle’s Rock in Topanga State Park and watched the sunset and drank beer and talked about their futures. When they were still mostly innocent and mostly free.
“You wanted to build houses. And now you do.”
“Sort of. Yeah.”
“And I wanted to be like Dad. And I knew what he did. I just didn’t know what it would cost me.”
He coughed again and she cleaned up the blood.
“Take care of them.”
“I will.”
“Please, Dad, just hold on,” Kristen said. “The ambulance is coming.”
Boyd tried to lift his hand and Kristen grabbed it, squeezed. “I’m so proud. Proud of you, Kris. Tony. Tony was a better father.”
Kristen held his hand, then her face fell as his hand dropped. “Dad. Dad?”
Ruby checked his vitals, but she knew. She squeezed back tears. All the anger, all the pain since she had learned the truth about her family churned inside her but, mostly, all she felt was loss. Her brother. Her best friend. Her fiancé. So much death in her life.
“Kris. He’s gone.”
Kristen cried out, turned to Ruby, and clung to her. Ruby held her tight.
Then Nick said, “Where’s Jason?”
* * *
Jason ran to the large linen closet at the end of the hall and flipped on the light. It flickered, then caught. The power was out in Big Sky, but the main house ran on two generators, which were always fueled and well-maintained.
He was relieved—his dad was okay, Kristen was okay, this was all finally over. He ached for Kristen and her father—knowing how she grew up, seeing her deep anguish. He wanted to support her, to be there for her, but didn’t know what to say or do.
But they needed supplies and first aid and that he could do. He could act; his dad had taught him long ago that actions mattered more than words.
He grabbed the big red box and a wool blanket, knowing that those who were losing blood needed to be kept warm. He stepped out of the closet and came face-to-face with an older women, a lot shorter than him. At first, he didn’t know who she was, his confusion costing him everything.
The woman had a gun. It was aimed at his chest. But she stood four feet away, so he couldn’t tackle her or grab the gun without fear of being shot.
“Jason,” she said quietly. “We need to go.”
He didn’t move.
“I’m Kristen’s grandmother, Frances McIntyre. I don’t want to kill you, but if I have to, I’m not going to lose sleep over it. Do as I say, and you may live. This is your only warning.”
He remembered the horrific story Kristen had told him about her grandmother. She looked disheveled, her hair partly in and out of a gray-blond bun that was askew, a cut on her forehead that dripped blood.
But her clear, hard eyes told him everything he needed to know.
She would kill him.
“What do you want?” he said through clenched teeth.
“My family. But now—it’s been made clear to me I only have one option. We’re going to get Ryan and take him away from this … this mess.”
“He’s in the hospital.”
“And you will take me there. This isn’t up for discussion, Jason. I had a long talk with Millie this afternoon over tea. I know you’re the only living child of your father. I know you care about him, and that you fear if anything happened to you that your father would never recover. So I am giving you one chance, one choice. Take me to Ryan, or die and leave your father to grieve.”
There had to be another way, but right now he didn’t see it. He didn’t want to take this woman to Ryan, but Jason didn’t want to die—not only for himself, but for his dad. He knew what his dad had gone through … still went through at times. The tenth anniversary of his mother’s and brother’s deaths was in three weeks. Every November was so hard on them both, but especially his dad.
If Jason was gone … he feared his dad wouldn’t survive.
And maybe, if he did this, he’d figure a way to save Ryan, too.
“Okay,” he said.
“Good boy. We’re going out the way you came in.”
Jason led the woman through Millie’s room, which meant they weren’t going by the kitchen. No one would see them leave. As soon as they stepped outside, the woman shivered, but she didn’t stop.
“Go,” she said. “Around to the front of the house. Someone left a truck running.”
He hadn’t heard, but as he rounded the corner of the house in the thick snow, he noted that a truck was idling, the exhaust puffing out of the back. At first, he didn’t recognize it, then suddenly he realized it was Lance Jackson’s rental truck. So much had happened in less than twenty-four hours …
But Jackson was dead or dying in the house. He had planned to take Kristen, kill Kristen. And this woman … she was leaving everyone behind.
Except Ryan.
Jason couldn’t think of a way out of this mess, but he would. He had to, for his dad, for Ryan.
They made it to the truck. In the distance, he saw bright lights through the trees and veil of snow. All headed for the ranch. The police, fire, rescue—the cavalry, as his dad would say.
“Get in,” the woman told him as she opened the passenger door. “I’m not screwing around.”
He walked around to the driver’s side. He knew he couldn’t get in, otherwise he would be trapped with the armed woman. The snow no longer provided the cover he’d need to run, but it was dark and cold and the woman was injured.
He had to do something because taking her to Ryan was not an option … and neither was dying.
He opened the driver’s door and willed an idea to come to him … anything … then he hit the horn, jumping away from the truck as he heard a gunshot.
* * *
Nick looked at Ruby. “Where’s your mother?”
Frankie was no longer in the living room, and Ruby mentally hit herself for not realizing that Frankie was still a threat. But when Boyd was shot and Kristen was in pain, Frankie was the last person on her mind.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“First aid kit?” she said, reminding Nick where Jason had been going.
A horn sounded outside, and Ruby and Nick both ran to the front door. Nick picked up Jackson’s gun from the corner as Ruby opened the door.
A gunshot rang out in the cold night. Nick saw Jackson’s truck, lights on, a woman in the car … Frankie McIntyre.
Jason.
“Jason!” he screamed.
He and Ruby ran down the stairs, through the snow, too slowly, far too slowly, as he searched for his son.
“Jason!”
If anything had happened to his boy, anything … he couldn’t think it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lose him.
Ruby reached the truck before he did because he was limping on his injured leg. She flung open the passenger door and as her mother turned to shoot her, Ruby reached out and disarmed her with such speed that Nick almost missed it.
He trudged through the snow to the other side of the truck and saw a body lying facedown in the snow.
“Jason.” His voice was a creak.
“Jason!” he said louder and limped over to him.
Jason moved, pulling himself up on all fours.
Nick knelt by him. “Don’t move. Where are you hurt?”
“I’m not. I’m okay.”
Jason grunted as he got up. “I jumped out of the truck.”
“You’re not hit? Not shot?”
“No. No—I’m okay.”
Nick hugged him tightly. “Thank God. Thank God.”
Jason hugged him back. “I love you, Dad.”
Forty-six
Kristen woke up for dinner Thursday night, then fell back to sleep and slept through the night. She had never been so tired, so physically and emotionally exhausted in her life.
She woke up early on Friday morning. Forty-eight hours ago, Tony had been alive. He’d woken her up and told her they had to run.
Now, she was sleeping in the most comfortable bed she’d ever had and for the first time felt … at peace.
She didn’t know if she’d ever feel truly safe. She knew who her family was—and there could be others out there who knew who her family was. Even though her grandmother was going to prison and her father was dead, there could be people who thought she had valuable information or money. Or who thought she knew something about them, like Lance Jackson, and want her dead.
She didn’t know what was going to happen now. Yesterday at dinner Nick said she could stay as long as she wanted. But what did that mean? A few days? A few weeks? Where would she go? Would Ruby want her and Ryan to live with her? Did Ruby want to take care of them? Did Kristen want to live in Washington?
There were no answers for her. At least, no one to tell her what to do, what choice to make. She had to figure it out. What was best for her, for Ryan.
She showered and dried her hair, then dressed in clothes that someone had left in her room. Maybe lost and found from guests that had been abandoned over the years. Jeans that were a little big, a long-sleeved T-shirt that advertised the University of Montana on the front. But she was still cold, even though the house was well heated. She pulled on a second pair of fluffy socks and a loose-fitting sweater that immediately became her favorite because it was both soft and matched her eyes.
She went downstairs and was surprised that Millie was already working. The sun was barely up. “Let me help.”
“There are eggs in the mudroom. Jason collected them this morning.”
“Jason’s up?”
“We rise early in this house, yesterday was an anomaly.”
In the mudroom, Kristen found a basket of eggs—more than two dozen. “Don’t you only have ten chickens?”
“We didn’t collect yesterday, and while Jason didn’t say anything, I don’t think he got them on Wednesday, either. But they’re fine. You can leave them out for weeks, and they’re fine.”
Attached to the barn was a chicken pen. A little ramp and door went into the barn where they roosted. Protected them from the extreme cold and from predators.
Kristen liked the chickens; they were funny animals, social, and seemed to have distinctive personalities. She enjoyed watching them.
She helped Millie gather ingredients, but Millie preferred to cook solo, so she stayed out of her way.
Nick walked in. “Kris, do you have a minute?”
“I have a lot of minutes.”
He gave her a little smile and she wondered if something was wrong.
She followed Nick to his office. He was using a cane to help him walk, but the doctor said his leg would heal. Kristen still felt guilty about everything that had happened.
“Is your leg okay? Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m really sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Yes, for everything. The plane and you almost dying and you looking for me and I should have come back here but—”
“Kris, you have zero blame in anything that happened.” He motioned for her to sit down. He sat behind his desk. “Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah. Do I not look okay?”
“You look rested. But a lot happened the other day and it’s a lot to process.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He nodded. “I respect that. But you’ll need to talk at some point.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not good to keep grief, pain, and anger bottled up. It’s not healthy for you or for the people who love you.”
She looked down.
“Did Jason tell you about his mother and brother?”
“They died in a car accident.”
He nodded. “Jason and I were also in the car. We walked away with scratches. Grace and Charlie died. I had a lot of anger to deal with. And grief. Sometimes, even ten years later, I feel it, have to deal with it. I had Jason, Millie, this ranch. I worked too hard, too many hours, but it’s what I had to do to get through those years. It took a lot of time to heal. Sometimes, I still hurt.
“If you ever need anyone to talk to,” he continued, “you can talk to me. Or someone else, if you don’t want to talk to me. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger who just listens.”
“Oh. Okay.” She hesitated, then said, “I—well—I don’t know where I’ll be.”
“I talked to Ruby last night. I suggested that it might be easier on you and Ryan if you didn’t move, at least not right away.”
She frowned.
“Ruby’s your aunt and she wants to be in your life, she wants to raise you, but you’re almost an adult. And Ryan loves the ranch. You can of course go to Washington if that’s what you want. But I offered Ruby a place here. Her own space—one of the cabins. It might make it easier on everyone if you and Ruby reconnected in familiar territory.”
“She has a life and everything in Anacordes,” Kristen said.
“But you’re her family. It’s really up to you and Ryan.”
“I know what Ryan will say. He wants to stay with the animals.”
She stared at her hands.
“And you?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you want me here? After everything my family did to you. Why would you give us a home? They shot you, they hurt Jason and Millie…” She couldn’t bear to think of what could have happened. That they could have been killed. And she never would have been able to live with herself. She was still trying to come to grips with how close they’d been to dying.
“Kristen, look at me.”
Her head whipped up. Nick sounded angry.
“I care about you and Ryan. I want you to be a part of my family. But you are going to have to accept that you are not responsible for what your grandmother did or what your father did. Even what Tony did. When I was looking for you, I couldn’t imagine why you were running away from Big Sky. But then, I understood. How you grew up, what you would have faced had you been sent back, it would have terrified me as well. I would have run as far as possible. Now you’re here, and I want you to stay. This ranch is a great place to heal. For you, for Ryan—for Ruby.”
