Page 55 of Behind the Cascades
Luke's the first one to arrive. He walks into the closet, gun in hand, and I gesture up into the attic with a head nod.
"Three shots center mass. Collapsed to the east. I haven't moved to confirm the kill yet."
Luke nods. "Any weapons?"
I glance toward the splintered wood and say, "My fucking axe." I don't know why that irritates me so much, but really? Going after my girl and then trying to kill me with my own axe?Salt in the wound.
"Let's wait for backup. I'll take over. Charlie needs you."
I step back, letting him step onto the ladder and aim into the attic.
I don't know Luke very well, but I trust him. He's a good lieutenant and always seems to be respectable and fair. For a man who puts the fear of God into people with just one look, he surprisingly doesn't have an ego. I know a lot of guys who let the power of being intimidating go to their heads.
Walking backwards out of the closet, I don't turn my back until I'm out of sight of the attic.
"Charlie!" I bellow as I make my way down the hallway and into the living room. The front door is open and I find her sitting with her back against the wall, huddled into herself, her phone still in hand.
My back slides down the porch wall next to her, and she rests her head on my shoulder.
"Luke's waiting for backup."
Dan's police cruiser speeds down the driveway next. Lights and sirens. Dust flying behind him.
He nods at us, gun already drawn, going into the house to help Luke.
Medics arrive next, pronouncing him dead, and I let out my first relieved breath.
It's unfortunate that shooting Carter is the way that this ended, but there's no denying the respite I felt seeing him in that body bag.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Charlie
Odessa flew in first thing the morning after everything happened. The second she found out, she was on the next flight into town. Same with Connie. Everyone I'm closest to surrounded me and Hayes the second they could. Even Everett took leave to come out for a long weekend and will be here on Friday morning.
Drew was the only one who couldn't make it because he’s about to leave for a training mission. He hasn’t stopped checking in, though, constantly FaceTiming or texting one of us. He’s doing everything he can to convince us to move to California or back to South Carolina. For some reason, he’s putting a lot of unwarranted blame on Three Sisters. I don’t think it helped that Hayes threw Olivia under the bus for hiding me from Hayes at the beginning. He’s had an issue with me living here since the first conversation we had but I’m not sure even this will convince me I should move back.
Of course, I’m shaken up being here but it’s not the town's fault that I had someone stalking me. Everyone here has gone above and beyond to make sure we are okay. We have a never-ending supply of casseroles, desserts, and guest rooms available to sleep in. It's overwhelming to have so many people around and calling, but there’s also a sense of comfort to know we have such a supportive community behind us.
I’ve been on a roller-coaster of emotions. Relief—that it's over. Guilt—that Hayes had to be the one to shoot him. Sadness—that anyone could be that messed up in the head. Not even two and a half years in prison could cure the sickness in his heart.
Hayes doesn’t seem affected at all, only concerned about me, which has me feeling more concerned about him. He’s acting like it's just another day in the office. It’s easy for me to forget that he was trained to go to war—trained to be in moments like that every day. Meanwhile, I'm sitting over here, reliving every moment that felt a little off over the last few days.
Based on all the food that was up there and the burner phone that he had, they think he was hiding for at least a week in the attic. Unknowingly, he was able to breach Lincoln's advanced security software. Every time he was in the house, he would set the security footage on a loop from the previous five minutes so that he could walk around undetected. The violation and fear that come with knowing someone spied on us from so close isn't an easy feeling to shake.
The little things started to add up now that I can look back on them. I thought Hayes was just being forgetful when he didn’t put the cereal box away or that I kept forgetting to shut my dresser drawers. I can’t believe how many things went missing, and I was still oblivious to the danger lurking just above our heads.
Now, I only feel safe when Hayes is within arm’s reach. The irrational part of me wants to never let him go, but I know that isn’t healthy. We had a very long talk about us both going to therapy last night. He wasn't exactly jumping for joy, but hedidn't shut down the idea either. I think he knows how much I need it and how much I need him to support me through it. At this point, I think he'd do anything I asked if it would help me feel better.
Hayes just left for the diner with the guys five minutes ago, and as much as I would like him to come back and hold me, I know that he could benefit from some time with the guys.
"I don't understand how they could have let that monster out and the parole board didn't notify anyone that he missed his last check-in." Odessa has been huffing and puffing most of the time, angry that Carter was let out of prison early. Her tough exterior has always done a good job of hiding her scared interior, but I know she’s really struggling with everything that’s happened.
"Trust me, I feel the same. Detective Paul is going to raise some hell for us, though. The parole officer didn’t notify him about it and he's livid.” Detective Paul flew out once he found out the news as well. He hopped on a plane without anyone asking, just because he felt so close to the case. He stayed for two days but left early this morning to get back to work. Seeing him was a small slice of the closure I needed to deal with the over-three-year ordeal.
Connie nods. She's been quiet since she got here. Letting us work through our emotions without any pressure. I know this has thrown her for as much of a loop as it has everyone else but it’s starting to worry me that she’s keeping her opinions to herself.
Odessa sits down on the couch next to me and grabs my hand. "Are you really going to stay here? In Three Sisters? It seems like a lot." She’s not wrong; it is a lot. The entire situation is a lot. I don't think I can ever go back into that house again. On the other hand, though, I don’t want to leave the town.
