Blood Ties (36 page)

Not as much fun for me
, Roxanne noted.
A key, for crying out loud
.

With hardly a breath of sound, Gabriel said, “Keep watch, Rox. Just because he’s not supposed to be any trouble doesn’t mean he won’t be.”

Okay, okay. Lemme see
….
He’s in the basement. Door’s in the
kitchen, Gabe
.

Gabriel made his way to the kitchen, still moving without a sound, gun drawn and ready. He found the basement door easily enough, his brows lifting as he noted the bolt locking it from this side.

Keeping something in rather than out, don’t you think? Because there’s no other exit from the basement. Bishop was right. They must believe the leash has been slipping. Be careful, Gabe
.

He unlocked the bolt carefully, then just as carefully eased the door open. As soon as he did, he heard a sound coming from the basement.

Humming.

And a cheery tune, no less. Jesus
.

Without responding out loud, Gabriel moved slowly and cautiously down the well-lit stairs and into a very bright basement. There was lots of white tile and stainless steel, and large lights illuminated the space more brightly than daylight.

There were two stainless-steel tables. On one lay a clear-plastic-wrapped body that barely appeared to be human.

The other table was covered with thickly coagulated blood, which was in the process of being washed off and down the big drain in the floor. The man wielding the hose looked very much like the man who had left the house only minutes before, except that he was perhaps a few years younger and there was nothing military in his bearing.

At all.

And there was a definite light of madness in his eyes when he turned his head, saw Gabriel, and smiled.

“Hello. BJ said I could clean up this time. He was too tired last night. Did Bubba send you?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, holding his voice even with an effort. “Bubba sent me. We need to go to town, Rex.”

R
uby crept into Bailey’s bedroom early, to double-check, and was satisfied to find one of her guardians still sleeping. Just to make sure, she put her hand on Bailey’s shoulder and concentrated for several long moments before stepping away from the bed.

Without much effort at all, she made the bed shimmer and then seemingly transform. Where before there had been tumbled covers and a dark-haired woman sleeping, now there was only a neatly made bed. Good. Bailey would be safe here. Until it was all over.

She went downstairs, finding Galen pouring coffee in the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” he commented.

“I didn’t sleep very well,” Ruby confessed. She got cereal for herself from the pantry, then milk from the fridge and a bowl and spoon. “Are you going to rest when Bailey gets up?”

“Probably.” he said, joining her at the kitchen table.

She fixed her cereal, took several bites, then said, “You haven’t tried to listen to the voices, have you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” he told her. “Still nothing I can understand. Voices, but not really words.”

“I expect they don’t want you to hear them now.”

He frowned. “Ruby, do you know where the voices are coming from?”

“They were let in when Father died,” she told him, her voice matter-of-fact. “Before that, they just listened.”

“Listened? To who?”

“To you. To your friends. The team. Father needed a spy. He was pleased when he found them. Because even though they knew about you, you didn’t know about them.”

Galen began to feel very, very cold. “Ruby, what’re you talking about?”

“Your brothers.”

“I don’t have any brothers.”

She looked at him with those too-old eyes. “No, you never knew about them. Your mother never told you the good man who raised you wasn’t your father. She made sure nobody knew about him. Changed her name, moved far away from here. Because your biological father was… really mean. He hurt your mother, and your brothers. He would have hurt you if he’d known about you. But your mother kept you secret. Until she was able to run away. She couldn’t take your brothers. They were already… wrong. Twisted. Because of him. She knew. She wanted to save you. So she ran away.”

“Ruby—”

“I would have told you sooner, but… I didn’t know until just after I got here. And even then, it was sort of fuzzy. There were so many chess pieces on the board, you know?”

The coldness Galen felt went all the way to his marrow. He stared at her sweet, innocent face with its too-old eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was telling him the truth. He had brothers. And, more important to him, they had been inside his head, maybe for a long time, spying on him. And on the unit.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ruby told him. “Bishop knows that. The rest will too. Father was awfully powerful. He could do things most people can’t even imagine. And he planned ahead.”

His training kicked in automatically, and he said, “If they’re in me, then they know about you. I have to get you out of here.”

Sadly, Ruby said, “I’m sorry. Please don’t blame yourself, okay? That’s not the way it’s supposed to end.”

“The little freak’s right.”

Galen tried, but he was barely able to rise from his chair, barely caught a glimpse of the tall man standing in the doorway, before he heard the muffled sneezes of a silenced automatic and felt bullets slamming into his chest.

Eighteen

H
OLLIS CRADLED HER
coffee mug between her hands and looked rather blearily at Miranda. “I know I slept. The clock says so. But I feel like I just had a lost weekend or something.”

“According to Reese, it took hours and you expended a great deal of energy in healing Diana. That’s the way it works when you heal. In a way, you give up part of yourself. Bonnie tells me it’s quite an amazing feeling.”

Considering, Hollis said, “Right now it’s mostly a tired feeling. So you guys already knew about Samuel.”

“We worked it out.”

“And you’ve identified the sniper?”

“Yeah, the pieces finally came together, thanks in large part to the information Elliot Brisco provided.”

“Glad the son of a bitch did something right. Poor Diana.”

“Yeah, despite how well she’s handling it now, it’s not going to be easy for her.”

“Will LeMott destroy him? Brisco?”

“Probably. He’s … merciless. And we could never have proven anything against Brisco in a courtroom.”

“So we let LeMott have his revenge?”

“Let’s call it justice,” Miranda suggested.

Hollis nodded. “It’s fine with me. Jesus. Anyway, what about the sniper?”

“Knowing who he is is one thing. What we have to do now is draw him out.”

“And how’re you—we—going to do that?”

“Bait.” There was a crackle in her ear, and Miranda heard her name. She reached up to activate the tiny com. “Go.”

“Got him,” Gabriel said.

“He give you any trouble?”

“Nah, came along like a lamb. Smiling yet. But wait’ll you get a look at what’s in his basement.”

“I can hardly wait. You know what to do.”

“Copy that.”

Miranda tapped the com again, then said to Hollis, “Sure you’re up for this?”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this final curtain to drop for a long, long time.”

“I think we all have. Don’t forget your vest.”

“Right. Where’s Reese?”

“Out there with Dean and the others. And I’m hoping his spider sense is working, because the rest of us are having trouble sensing much of anything.” Miranda finished her own coffee and got to her feet. “Stay clear of the command center. I hope I’m wrong, but I’ve got a feeling it’ll be a target.”

“So who’s manning it?”

“Nobody. See you outside.” Miranda left the B&B’s dining room, adjusting her vest and the gun on her hip a bit absently and then going out onto the porch. She knew there were agents and cops and deputies all around, but it was peculiarly quiet, and that bothered her.

She touched her com again. “Anything?”

The response whispered back immediately: “No. But Reese is antsy and so am I. Something’s not right.”

“But you’re in position?”

“Yeah. Watch yourself.”

Miranda strolled along the sidewalk, outwardly casual or preoccupied, wondering if, this time, they had been a bit too clever for their own good. Hiding Bishop in plain sight had worked once before, but here there was an inside man to contend with and no way for them to be sure how he would react.

Because he had, so far, played his part to perfection.

She saw Tony and Jaylene standing a few yards from the command center near the front of the sheriff’s department and went to join them. “Gabe should be here any minute,” she told them quietly.

Tony almost idly, watching a casual gathering across the street of deputies and several agents, including Dean Ramsey, said, “Are we sure the bait will draw him out?”

“It’ll draw a reaction,” Miranda said. “Beyond that, I don’t know what’s going to happen.” She watched as DeMarco joined the group of cops, saying something that made two of them laugh.

“A vision right about now would be nice,” Jaylene murmured.

“Tell me about it. Unfortunately, we’re flying blind this time.” Whatever else Miranda might have said was pushed aside as she watched Gabriel Wolf escort a handcuffed man toward the sheriff’s department.

The man was almost shockingly ordinary. Around forty or so, he was a little above medium height, with a stocky build and an untidy thatch of dark hair. And he was smiling.

“How come serial killers so seldom look the part?” Tony wondered aloud. “Jesus, really the guy next door. That’s disturbing.”

“He’s an animal,” Miranda said. “Doesn’t matter what he looks like.”

“Oh, yeah, no argument. It’s just—”

Miranda saw DeMarco turn suddenly, staring toward a cluster of trees on a low ridge behind the sheriff’s department. In almost the same instant, the handcuffed prisoner’s head jerked, blood and tissue sprayed out of what had been his face, and as he sort of stumbled and then dropped to the pavement there was, finally, the
craa-aack
of a high-powered rifle.

Before the echoes had died, there was a second
craa-aack
.

And then silence.

Many of the cops and agents had hit the deck, but several of them remained on their feet. Miranda caught DeMarco’s eye and waited for his nod before walking out slowly to join Gabriel.

With a singular lack of pity, Gabe said, “Well, he saved the state a whole lot of trouble and expense. And deprived the shrinks of another serial killer to study. No great loss, I’m thinking.”

As Miranda had expected, other cops and agents were slowly coming to join them, taking their cue from the calm pair standing over the executed prisoner. But her heart skipped a beat when she realized one in particular wasn’t among them.

Before she could get her thoughts organized, Chief Deputy Neil Scanlon stepped out of the command center, holding a small, limp body to his chest like a shield. Ruby. She was unconscious at best, possibly already dead.

But there’s no sign of a wound, so maybe… Goddammit
….

“Where’s BJ, Miranda?” Scanlon called out, his voice unnaturally calm.

Despite a muttered curse from Gabe, Miranda took a step toward Scanlon. At this distance, she knew she could take him without hitting Ruby. If she could get her gun out and aimed before he fired his. Even without the bulky vest restricting her movements a bit, the odds weren’t good.

“He’s gone, Neil,” she called back, her voice as calm as his. “When he shot Rex, it pinpointed his location for us. And we were ready. Where’s Galen?”

“I put a few bullets into him. But we both know that won’t keep him down long, right? Long enough, though. Just long enough. Where’s Bishop?”

Very deliberately, Miranda said, “He’s the one who took out BJ.”

Something vicious flashed across that tough face, and Scanlon moved Ruby slightly. “Tit for tat. I’m going to take out your little freak here.”

“Why bother? It’s over.”

“Not quite. If I can’t have Bishop—”

His hand was moving in a blur, aiming his gun toward her. Miranda moved as well, instinctively throwing herself sideways.

The
craa-aack
of a rifle sounded almost simultaneously with the duller report of Scanlon’s gun. Miranda saw his head virtually explode, saw him tilt and fall toward the pavement, still holding Ruby’s limp body. She pushed herself up and ran, reaching the girl only heartbeats later.

“Ruby?
Ruby?”
As far as she could tell, there wasn’t a mark on the child.

Time seemed to slow abruptly. Miranda was dimly aware of Hollis racing toward her from the direction of the B&B, aware of other pounding feet and voices, but all she saw was Ruby’s pale face.

Then her eyes fluttered open, and she whispered, “He gave me… some kind of… shot. It’s okay. I… knew I was … a pawn. Had to… be… sacrificed… to win. I couldn’t… hide Bishop… and me too…. Tell Galen… not his fault. Don’t be sad…. “A single long breath escaped her, and her head rolled to the side.

Miranda felt a jolt of pain and thought that it didn’t hurt enough, that nothing could hurt enough for the loss of this child.

“Hollis—help her. Help Ruby.”

Hollis reached for Ruby, gently removing the girl from Miranda’s grasp—and then handing her to someone else. She was speaking, but what she was saying made no sense.

“Miranda, lie back. Easy. Let Gabe help you. Jesus, get her vest off—”

“What’re you talking about? I’m not…”

Bishop ran up at that moment, his face ashen. He dropped his rifle and then dropped to his knees, cradling her head. “Miranda—”

She looked up at his face, wanting to reassure him that she was fine, but then she felt another stabbing pain, this one deep in her belly. And she knew what was happening. What had happened.

“No,” she whispered. “Oh, God…Noah, I’m sorry…” And then a white curtain fell, and she fell with it into silence.

“Hollis—help her, please.” Bishop’s voice was hoarse.