Page 21 of Through the Fire
“Shut it, Bart,” Rufus snapped, although he was starting to look a little sheepish, and the barrel of his shotgun drooped a little toward the ground.
Wes looked at Bart. “Why’d you run if you weren’t scared?”
“Well, I…uh…” He shot a frantic glance toward Rufus, as if asking for help, but the older man didn’t offer any. “Dunno.”
“Was it to lead her back here, where you knew there’d be people and guns?”
“Uh…” Bart just stared at Wes dumbly.
“What’s the word for that? An ambush?” He made a tsk sound. “Intentionally ambushing a police officer and her dog? Luring her here just to shoot her? That’s not protecting your property. That’s premeditated murder.”
His gun drooping at his side, Bart looked both bewildered and completely panicked. With an audible sigh, Rufus pointed his shotgun at the ground. The rest of the gun holders followed his lead and lowered their weapons. “Damn it, Bart. You’re the dumbest of Chessie’s kids, and that’s saying something.”
Relief started filtering through Kit, but she still kept her gun in her hand. “Tell you what,” she said carefully, not wanting to ramp up the mountain people’s tension again. “You let me and my dog walk out of here, and I won’t pursue any charges. We’ll call it what it is…a misunderstanding.”
She stiffened her legs, which had gone soft with relief when the weapons had pointed toward the ground. She was so close to getting out of this situation. Now was not the time to collapse on the snowy ground, as much as her wavering limbs wanted to. “I saw some blood in the snow and thought someone was hurt, but it was just a rabbit. No one’s injured, and we are all going to go our separate ways in peace.”
Her nerdy Bigfoot gave her a quick look, arching one eyebrow in a way that showed he knew exactly what had been about to happen and what she was now trying to do. “Well, that sounds like a good solution. That’s your truck on my road?”
She nodded, watching him but keeping the other five in her peripheral vision. Her fingers itched with the need to draw her weapon, but she knew that would just cause the tension to escalate again. Even with her newly arrived ally, it’d only take a second for one of the jumpy, suspicious mountain folk to raise their shotgun and blow off someone’s head. No one was safe, not yet.
“Were you coming to see me?”
“You’re the fire lookout?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
He smiled at her, and she tried to return it, but her lips were numb from residual adrenaline. “I’ll see you at the tower, then. I’m just going to talk to Rufus first.”
“You’ll be okay?” she asked quietly. He didn’t seem to be worried, but she hated to leave the guy who’d just saved her life alone with that trigger-happy bunch.
He looked pleased. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”
When she didn’t see any hesitation or concern on his part, she dipped her chin and started toward the trees. As she left, she kept her head turned and her gaze on the people watching her go, wanting to get out of the clearing before the backwoods five changed their minds. Her sweating fingers felt clammy inside her gloves as she tightened her fist around Justice’s lead. She wanted to run, but she kept her steps even and at a careful walk. The dog kept close to her side, his tail tucked and his head low, still reading her fear. Her attention stayed focused on the group in the clearing, and she tried to hide the relief that flooded her as she reached the tree line.
Once there were several trees between Kit and the shotguns, she sucked in a rough breath and started to jog, following their previous tracks. Her bearded ally’s voice filtered in after her.
“You can’t go pointing shotguns at people willy-nilly, Rufus…”
His words quickly faded as she and Justice moved farther from the clearing. Justice soon perked up and took the lead, happy as could be with their second run. Kit carefully kept them in the tracks they’d made as they’d chased Bart, figuring that was the safest way to avoid getting caught in any of his traps. Ignoring the way her legs wanted to fold underneath her, Kit pushed herself faster, not slowing until they reached the truck.
Once she and Justice were both safely in the locked cab, she allowed herself to press her forehead against the steering wheel and take a deep breath. When it came out sounding more like a sob than an exhale, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to steady her breathing. It didn’t work. Her body shook as the scene in the clearing replayed itself in her mind. In her eight years of policing, she’d never been so close to death. The worst part of it had been that, except for Justice, she’d been completely alone. Even when things had been at their worst in her previous job, the other officers would’ve been there to back her up in a crisis. Here in Monroe, it felt as though she was on her own, and that was almost scarier than having shotguns aimed at her.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there before a wet tongue licked her cheek, jolting her out of her terrifying thoughts. Turning her head, she looked at Justice and caught another slobbery dog kiss across her nose. With a shaky laugh, she hugged her dog, burying her face into his silky shoulder.
He didn’t give her long to wallow before he tried to climb onto her lap, his huge feet pressing painfully into her thigh.
“Oof, Justice,” she grunted with another watery laugh as she pushed him back to his own seat. “You’re too heavy to be a lapdog.”
Unoffended, he leaned over to give her face one last lick before giving himself a full-body shake. Following his example, Kit gave herself a mental one. She might not have a team watching her back, but she was still a cop, and she had a job to do. Having a breakdown was a waste of time. There was a witness waiting to talk to her.
Straightening in her seat, she shifted the truck into Drive and made her way up the mountain.
Chapter 8
