Bryan slumped back against the garage wall, the Gibsons’ old stuff surrounding him. “Asa, go! Call 911 and go to Courtney’s. Go.”
The last sight he had of her was his little girl running through the snow toward the road.
Chapter 42
Pierce almost didn’t see her. Only Knight’s sudden curse had him not hitting the kid running across the road. The SUV slid on the slush and ice, then slammed to a stop. He jerked open his door. “Kid, what were you?—“
He stopped. The child was a girl, in a slouchy hat with HHC embroidered on the front. Big blue eyes, wide with shock, adrenaline, stared into his. She was covered with blood. Fresh blood. Her sweatshirt had Horrible Hope Rides Again! And a cartoon skateboarder. It was too thin for this weather. But it was the blood that stopped him cold in his tracks. “Where are you hurt? We’re with the police. We’re here to help.”
“Hurry! You have to hurry! He hurt my dad! And the FBI lady is in there with him! Hurry!”
Pierce put it together fast. Miranda. “Who hurt your dad and where?”
“My dad. Bryan. He owns this house. It’s the Gibson house where the people were killed. I think my uncle John did it. I think he did it! The FBI lady is in there with him and he had a gun with a silencer thing on it. And he shot my dad. My dad is in the garage. He’s bleeding really bad! You have to help him! Hurry!”
Pierce looked at the man with him. Knight was already pulling his phone and weapon.
But if Miranda was inside with a killer, they didn’t have much time to wait for backup.
“Go. Check on her father,” Knight said. “I’m going in to get Miranda.”
Pierce nodded. Maybe not exactly protocol, but exigent circumstances. “I’ll be right behind you, as soon as I can.”
Pierce looked at the little girl just as the door on the house across the street opened. A woman stood there, phone at her ear and watching. He knew who she was. He’d interviewed her a hundred times now—she rented from Bryan, too. He looked at the little girl, shaking and covered in her father’s blood. “You go to that woman right there. You tell her Sergeant Asher told her to take you inside. And you wait there. I’m going to go help your dad. You go to her right now.”
He watched until she was safely across the road. And then…he went looking for her father.
Chapter 43
Knight shut everything off but protocol. Even worry. It wouldn’t help a damned thing. Miranda needed him as by-the-book as he could be. Anything could be happening inside that house. He checked the back door cautiously. It was unlocked. No surprise—he saw boot prints in the snow that belonged to a man. Most likely Bryan Stenson’s—the man had had the same pattern on his snow boots the other day.
There were another set of prints, slightly smaller—but too big to be Miranda’s. They headed toward the front. There was blood droplets sitting on the top of the snow. The red stood out, even though the snow had mixed with it and diluted it.
Knight entered through the back door, weapon raised. Voices from the front room guided him forward. He moved down the hall and stopped where he could see into the room without stepping into Miranda’s line of fire. She had her weapon ready and was in an obvious stand-off with a man.
He was a few inches shorter than Knight and probably close to sixty, or so. His clothing was older. The coat was old and army-style. The guy looked like he’d come out on the losing side of whatever fight life had thrown him. There was blood on him. Still dripping on the floor. But it wasn’t his; Knight would bet money on that. It was blood mixed with melting snow. Someone somewhere had been hurt.
This was their unsub. He’d bet money on that.
Miranda stood facing John. Both were armed. Miranda had seen Knight enter. Her slight nod was almost imperceptible to anyone who didn’t know her well. But…he did.
Knight stepped into view enough to make his presence known without crowding the space.
“FBI, put down the weapon, so we can talk.” Knight moved forward one step, narrowing the distance and changing the angle between them.
“Dr. Allan Knight, meet John Stenson. Bryan’s brother. Asa’s uncle.”
“Asa is safe now. We made sure of it,” Knight knew what she was asking.
“Bryan?”
“I don’t know at this point, but I can confirm the police were also called. Responders.” They could all hear the sirens outside. It was only a moment or two before the entire Gibson house was surrounded by local law enforcement. Knight would prefer to get this situation neutralized before that happened. And he wanted Miranda out of the line of fire.
If Stenson was the man who had killed the Gibsons he had an immense hatred for women. And Miranda fit the profile of the man’s victims a little too closely. If Stenson snapped and tried to take them out—it would be Miranda he tried to hurt first.
They were in a bit of a bind here. John had to know he was outnumbered. Both Miranda and Knight had weapons trained on him now. And they blocked him in between them. If he started shooting, it could be very painful for her, and the only thing that kept her from reacting now was that the gun was pointed at the floor instead of her.
She checked his mannerisms. Agitated. No denying that. But he wouldn’t meet her eyes now. He kept trying to turn. Toward Knight. Toward the one he thought was a bigger threat. Of course he did—Knight was a man.
