“Mac says Julia is safe, but Victor has Ellie. He took her out the back door.” Grant ended the call.

The cop swung the car around the outside of the arena. Three patrol vehicles turned into the parking lot behind them.

“There!” Grant pointed across the parking lot. Victor dragged Ellie across the pavement by the hair. Fury and fear fused in Grant’s chest.

McNamara reached for the radio, called dispatch, and requested a sniper and hostage negotiator from the county. He angled the car and opened his door. His weapon was in his hand.

“Sniper won’t get here in time.” Grant joined the cop behind the engine block. They crouched, watching Victor and Ellie over the hood of the car. “He’s not waiting around to chat.”

If Grant could just get to Ellie without Victor shooting her, he’d kill the skating coach with his bare hands. He wanted to do it with a ferocity that should have alarmed him.

The patrol officer next to them took an AR-15 out of his trunk. He hunkered down behind his engine block and aimed at Victor over the hood of the car.

“Is he a good shot?” Grant asked.

McNamara glanced sideways. “Yes. If we can get a little space between them, and it seems as if he’s going to pull the trigger, Officer Tate can take him out.”

“Let her go, Victor,” the cop yelled. “You can’t get away.”

“We’re getting in the car and driving away.” He tugged Ellie toward the driver’s side door. The gun muzzle was pressed to her forehead. Ellie’s eyes were white-rimmed with fear as they met Grant’s. The thirty feet of pavement that separated them could’ve been a mile. The urge to kill surged through him. He wanted Victor’s throat under his hands.

“You’ll never get out of the parking lot,” McNamara retorted.

Grant’s heart thudded in his chest as he watched, unable to help. The rifleman shifted his position. Ellie’s head was too close to Victor’s. In Grant’s mind, he pictured Ellie’s face exploding into a red mist. The insurgent’s ruined face. Lee. Images crowded Grant’s brain, a nauseating slideshow of blood and death. How many people had he watched die? How many men had he seen maimed? Blown to pieces. Bleeding out onto the sand.

Victor moved sideways, his hand searching along the side of the vehicle for the door handle. His gaze shifted. The gun moved a few inches from Ellie’s temple. She moved quickly, swinging the ice skates in her hands over her shoulder and hitting Victor in the face. The gun went off, the blast echoing in the damp air. Blood spurted. Ellie fell to the ground. Grant’s heart stopped. He was on his feet and rounding the cop car as Officer Tate fired. Victor’s body jerked and fell sideways.

Grant and the cops raced across the asphalt. Ellie! Blood soaked her pale blue sweater. Grant skidded to his knees beside her, his hands on her head, seeking the damage. He had to stop the bleeding. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t.

“Grant.” She wriggled in his grip. “I’m all right.”

His fingers delved through her hair. Her hand came up and covered his, stopping his frantic examination of her scalp. “I’m OK. It’s Victor’s blood, not mine.”

Unable to comprehend her words, Grant turned. Victor was on his back. The cop’s bullet had caught him in the shoulder. They’d handcuffed him. One officer was applying pressure to the shoulder wound while another tried to stop the bleeding from a huge gash on his head. Ellie’s blow with the ice skate had split his forehead open. His skull gleamed white through the blood. Once Victor was restrained, an EMT took over.

Ellie’s tug on his arm broke his stare. “Please, let’s get away from him.”

“Of course.” He scooped her off the ground.

“I can walk,” she said.

“I know, but I want to hold you right now.” He wished he never had to let her go.

She leaned her head on his chest. “That works for me.”

He carried her to the grass twenty feet away and set her down. A second EMT knelt beside her.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Grant took her hand. He needed constant physical contact to convince himself she really was all right.

“Let me make sure.” The EMT cleaned her face with water and gauze. “That’s the best I can do. I don’t even see a scratch. You’re sure nothing hurts?”

“Positive. Thank you.”

The EMT walked away.

McNamara approached. He stood in front of them, both hands propped on his hips. “You’re not hurt?”

“No,” Ellie said. “But I don’t understand what happened.”

Grant squeezed her hand. She might be physically uninjured, but the events of the last week would leave a psychological scar. “Lindsay Hamilton didn’t commit suicide. Regan and Autumn killed her by accident in a prank that went horribly wrong. For some reason, Victor helped them cover up their crime.”

“Oh, no.” Ellie pressed a hand to the base of her throat. “Victor said Regan seduced him.”

“So she threatened to tell unless he covered for her.” Grant glanced at the cop. “What’s the age for statutory rape in New York State?”

The cop sighed. “He’s older than twenty-one, so sixteen. Third-degree rape is a class E felony. He could have gotten four years in prison.”

The rear door of the building opened. Mac came out. Julia peered around his body. He scanned the situation before allowing her to run out from behind him. Sobbing, she ran to Ellie and threw her arms around her mother. Even as Ellie comforted her daughter, Grant kept hold of her hand. After the horrors he’d endured over the past week, he’d finally gotten lucky.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Grant crept into the bedroom of the Residence Inn. Carson and Hannah shared a double bed. His sister was on her side, snoring, one arm draped over the boy. Grant tugged the covers over Carson’s shoulders. Moving to the portable crib, he reached down and played a hand on Faith’s back. Well past her witching hours, she slept soundly. The rise and fall of her body under his palm tightened his chest. He could have lost all three of them in that fire.

With a deep breath, he left the room and softly closed the door. He walked past the second bedroom, where Julia and Nan slept, and into the kitchenette. The sight of Ellie making coffee stirred more emotions inside him, gratitude, affection—and desire. Always desire, it seemed.

Stepping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her body. “I should have gotten another room. Then you could be sleeping, too.”

“It’s dawn, and I’m too keyed up to be still.” She leaned back, resting her head against his chest. “The couch opens if you want to lie down.”

Her hair was still wet from her shower, but Grant could still see it splattered with Victor’s blood. He’d never get that sight out of his head.

“I’m fine.” He rested his chin on her head. “McNamara will be here soon. He texted me a few minutes ago.” The street had still been blocked by emergency vehicles. After they’d finished answering questions at the police station, the cops had dropped them all off at the motel. A uniform had brought Grant’s phone from the rental sedan and some clothes from Ellie’s house. The convenience store across the street from the motel had supplied them with enough staples to get through the night.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Reluctantly, he released her and let Detective McNamara in.

“Thanks.” The cop accepted a cup of coffee and sat at the small oak table. Ellie and Grant joined him.

“Do I need to wake my lawyer?” Grant asked.

“Please don’t.” McNamara sighed. “I’m only here to give you an update, not arrest you.”

Last night at the police station, Hannah had neatly cut off an obstruction of justice charge.

The cop downed half his mug. “Here’s how it shakes out. Regan and Autumn were pissed that Victor was giving this new girl attention. They decided to torment her. But it backfired. Victor felt bad and started looking out for Lindsay. Regan and Autumn got madder and meaner. They planned that stunt in the woods knowing Lindsay was close to quitting the skating club. They thought they’d pushed her over the edge. As you saw,” McNamara nodded at Grant, “it went as wrong as it could, and Lindsay died.”

With the replay of the video playing in his head, Grant reached for Ellie’s hand. She anchored him.

“Regan and Autumn went to Victor. Regan had plenty of leverage on him. In case there’s any question about Lindsay killing herself, he gives the kids an alibi. He also took Regan’s burner phone. She wanted to keep the video, but Victor knew that was a bad idea. He also knew that deleting the video wasn’t enough. It could still be recovered, so he takes the cell as a condition of his cooperation, planning on destroying it after he finishes at the rink for the night. But it went missing. The only other person in the rink that night was Kate.

“Victor and Kate had had an affair about a year and a half ago, so their working relationship was already strained, but she started treating him very oddly. They argued. Kate overheard his conversation with the girls. She took the phone from his jacket in the office. Victor threatened to tell Lee about their affair if Kate didn’t give the phone back. But in the end, he knew she’d do the right thing. So he hired Donnie to kill Kate and recover the phone.”