‘The other bedrooms are empty,’ Travis explains.
‘Carry her,’ Emma says, and helps with maneuvering as Travis holsters the Colt on his gun belt and scoops the girl into his arms. They leave the room, go back out to the hall.
‘Careful on the stairs,’ Emma warns.
Travis handles the shadowed carpet on the stairs while carrying Linda. She has her mouth mashed against his shoulder, the fabric of his jacket absorbing the sound of her sobs, her arm a taut band of tendon around his neck. Emma takes the lead, gun forward, as they go through the kitchen and out the back door. Her sense of urgency doesn’t fade until they’re outside in the cool evening air, hurrying along the concrete path.
The night is dark now, only moonlight guiding them to the Lincoln. Emma works the rear door handle, puts her gun on the roof of the car, muzzle facing away. Travis sets Linda carefully on the back seat, moves aside so Emma can take his place.
‘You’re out, you’re out.’ Emma chafes Linda’s hands. The girl is crying, leaning her head into Emma’s shoulder.
Travis has raced around the hood of the Lincoln to get to the Motorola pack on the other side of the seat. ‘I’m calling the field office. It’s been twenty minutes. The agent should be here soon.’
Emma nods, still consoling the girl in her arms. ‘It’s okay. It’s all right.’
She doesn’t hear the call Travis makes, although she senses him talking on the other side of the car. She’s focused on Linda, helping her drink from a bottle of water in the back passenger footwell, hugging her to calm her. Linda tries to talk, but she’s shaking too much; she can only make garbled scraps of words.
‘It’s okay,’ Emma says, rubbing her back. ‘I understand. Just rest for a second. Talk later.’
Travis comes back around to stand near her. ‘I’ve gotta check that outbuilding.’
‘How long before the cavalry arrives?’ Emma thinks Linda might have stabilized for now. She wishes she had a blanket.
‘Maybe twenty more minutes. There was some kind of emergency action in downtown, everyone’s scrambling. They might have to send a local patrol car on hot response.’
‘Can you wait?’
‘The whole property is a crime scene now,’ Travis reminds her. ‘I’m supposed to secure it.’
‘Okay.’ Emma presses her lips together, detaches from Linda, and stands to face him. ‘You shouldn’t go in there on your own.’
Travis glances at Linda. ‘We can’t bring her with us.’
‘No.’ Emma, torn by the conflicting desires of her heart. ‘I’m giving you ten minutes. If you’re not back in ten, I’m coming after you.’
Travis nods, shucks off his jacket, unholsters his gun. ‘Both of you stay in the car. If Kirke is still around, if he runs back this way—’
‘Hey, I’ve got a weapon,’ Emma says, grin weak. ‘And really shitty aim.’
‘Don’t shoot me, shoot the bad guy.’ Travis gives her his jacket, his eyes very clear under the moon. ‘And we’re talking about that kiss when I get back.’
‘Be careful,’ Emma whispers, clutching at the fabric.
‘You know it.’ He breaks eye contact, backing away. ‘Stay in the car. Lock the doors. I’ll call out when I’m close.’
The shadows under the trees in the garden swallow him up.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Emma takes her gun off the roof and locks the doors of the Lincoln from the inside.
On the rear seat, Linda is crying and scratching at her hands. ‘I can’t …’
Emma puts her gun on the driver’s seat and sits back with her, notices the problem: the glinting gold band on Linda’s left ring finger. Emma grabs the girl’s hand. The ring is tight, constricting. It makes Emma shudder.
‘Get itoff, get itoff.’ Linda scrapes at her fingers, eyes red and wild.
‘Okay, we’re getting it off,’ Emma reassures. She pulls the girl’s knuckle back, pulls the ring forward. Linda is moaning. Their harsh breathing reverberates in the car. The damn thing won’t budge.
