Page 26 of Holmes, Margaret and Poe

Mahoney nodded.

The young FBI agent eased up the knoll another five steps. She paused, peered around, then cocked her head toward the barn and took two more steps. She paused for a long moment, and I thought for sure she was going to turn and come back to us. But she took one more step, and her shin hit a fishing line strung across the upper end of the ATV trail.

To our left and right came gunshots, blinding orange blasts that cursed the night.

CHAPTER 26

RATTLED, OUR EARS RINGING,we threw ourselves flat on the ATV trail, digging for our weapons. Lights went on all around the house. A door flew open.

“Whoever the hell you are, you are unannounced and unwanted here!” a man roared. “You’re just damn lucky I didn’t mix screws and nails into that Tannerite!”

“FBI!” Denfeld yelled, getting to her feet, pistol raised. “FBI, Cameron Blades!”

The rest of us were getting up when she yelled, “Drop the weapon, Mr. Blades!” I ran up the slope to see Blades kneeling on his porch, looking at us over the barrel of a black AR rifle. Mahoney came up beside me, holding his badge up.

“FBI, Blades!” he yelled. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Only stupid ones are you, coming onto a man’s place this way. Unannounced, unwanted. What is it with all of you? Don’t give a damn about the Constitution?”

“We just wanted to talk, Cameron,” Agent Denfeld said. “We should have called ahead or at least come straight up the driveway.”

“My fault, Mr. Blades,” Ned said. “Can you drop the weapon, please?”

“What, so you can shoot me and make up some damn story about me trying to blow up the FBI?”

I said, “Well, you did just try to blow us up.”

“Nah, just trying to scare the bejesus out of whoever’s been sneaking onto my place and stealing my shit. That was just Tannerite — makes a lot of noise, but it’s a big firecracker, that’s all. Bought the cans at a Walmart in Fredericksburg.”

“Let’s talk about that later, Mr. Blades. Can you please lower your weapon? It will go a long way toward making us ignore the booby trap on your property.”

“More like a loud alarm,” Blades insisted.

“Just the same,” I said as Agent Hawkins came roaring up the driveway in the SUV. It skidded to a stop, and Hawkins got out, his pistol drawn. Blades swung his rifle at Hawkins.

“Don’t do it, Cameron!” Denfeld shouted and went straight toward him.

Blades glanced at her, then back at Hawkins, who had his pistol up. Blades’s shoulders were dropping when Hawkins fired.

The round hit Blades high in the chest; he fell back onto the porch floor.

Denfeld raced at Blades, screaming at Hawkins, “Why’d you shoot? He was giving up!”

“He was aiming at me!” Hawkins shouted back. “Right at me!”

Denfeld got up on the porch. Ned was calling 911 to report federal agents under fire.

I said, “Stay where you are, Agent Hawkins! Stay right where you are or sit inside the Suburban! Weapon on the hood!”

“I didn’t do a damn thing wrong!”

“I didn’t say you did. But let’s leave the scene as uncontaminated as possible, okay?”

The young agent looked like he wanted to put his fist through a wall, but he placed his pistol on the hood and stood outside the open driver’s door as I climbed up onto the porch.

Blades was writhing on the ground. “Oh, that hurt.” He moaned. “Oh, that’s going to get you yahoos a lawsuit.”

Denfeld had put his weapon out of reach and knelt next to him. She unzipped his windbreaker, revealing a combat vest.

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