She lets out one sob and crashes into me—her boobs smashed against my chest.
Throat tight, I hug her like I’ll never let go.
A few moments later, she’s calming the girl while I kneel beside the boy, pressing hard on his wound.
The rest is a blur. Phone calls. The dog. Helicopters. Paramedics. FBI. State Police. Hunt. A guy named Wulf. The hike back to my truck. Forensics. Coroner.
Through it all, I hold Briana’s hand—never letting go.
Chapter 36
Briana
I shot a State Police officer. No matter how justified, the FBI can’t ignore it.
In a Burlington interrogation room, a silver fox unbuttons his suit jacket before extending his right hand. “Special Agent Axel Wulf.”
“Briana Gainsborough. Nice to meet you.” As I return his firm grip, kind, intelligent eyes size me up.
Inner-Herman pipes in.Don’t underestimate him.
Thanks Captain Obvious.
After we settle into stiff plastic chairs that scream budget cuts, the attractive Fed hits record. Then, he rattles off the time, our names, and a bunch of other official stuff.
Finished, he leans back, all casual charm. “So, wanna walk me through this?”
Beside me, John Ito frowns. “How about you ask—she answers?”
“We can do it your way, but it’ll take all day.” Annoyed how the G-man’s gaze stays glued to my face, I flash him a saccharine smile.
Trust no one. That’s my new motto.“My calendar’s completely free. Fire away.”
“Alright, Miss Gainsborough. We’ll do it your way. Why Vermont?”
Fair question.
Given a quick nod from my lawyer, I begin. “The Long Trail’s been on my bucket list forever. When I got laid off, I figured—why not?”
A spider spins a web in the corner above the door. Is Wulf doing the same? Luring me in, thread by thread?
He asks about my homelessness, the USAID layoff, my Navy stint—hell, even high school.
Seriously? What’s next, my favorite Girl Scout cookie?
“Now, about Andrea Bratner.” He flips through a pile of papers. “Were you two close?”
“I thought so.” A pang tugs at my chest. Even if she wasn’t truly a friend, the loss still stings.
“Did you fight the night Brett Johnson was killed?” His pace quickens, so I slow mine down.
No way am I letting him trip me up. “Let me be clear. We argued. That’s it. I left before dawn.”
“Was Brett there?” he rapid fires.
Undaunted, I meet his steely gaze. “If he was, I didn’t see him.”
“What was the fight about?”
