Vicious Carousel (Suncoast Society #25)(60)

She stepped away from him and toward her, yelling at Betsy.

Betsy couldn’t make out all the words, and June wasn’t turning to face her. Finally, June slowly backed up, keeping her focus on Jack, and blindly reached out behind her, feeling for Betsy.

Betsy caught her hand and June hauled her up and to her feet with a strength she didn’t think the woman could possess.

“Are you okay?” June screamed.

Betsy nodded, trembling as adrenaline flooded into her system, a little late for the party, but, oh well, better late than never.

Jack lay on the ground, his eyes open, staring at her.

Still alive.

Blood bubbled from between his lips and he looked like he was gasping for air.

June kept her left hand painfully clamped around Betsy’s right wrist, holding her there in place and slightly behind her, keeping herself and her gun between Jack’s dying form and Betsy.

Several men ran up, and that was when Betsy checked out. Her knees gave out and she sat down, hard, dragging June down into a seated position with her as she stared at Jack and cried.





Nolan hoped the scary little former gymnast had finally gotten her wish, but that the women were all right. By the time they reached the park entrance, county deputies and state wildlife officers had shut down the parking area. Kenny and Nolan risked parking in front of someone’s house and ran down to where yellow police tape had been strung across the entrance.

When they tried begging the officer to let them in, they heard a man yelling their name and waving at them.

Bill.

The officer let them through, and they charged across the unpaved parking area, toward where Bill stood next to an ambulance and was talking to another deputy. He was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, his badge holder hanging from a chain around his neck and the print of a sidearm visible under his shirt at his waist.

Betsy sat on the back of the ambulance, sobbing against her friend, while a stony-faced June sat next to her, arm around her shoulders. EMTs stood helplessly by and watched.

“June wouldn’t let anyone touch her,” Bill said to them as they slid to a stop. “Betsy screamed bloody murder anytime anyone tried to touch her, so June took over.”

“Is he…”

Bill nodded.

Two uniformed county deputies, and another uniformed state wildlife officer, stood close by and kept their eyes on June. “They’re going to need to talk to June and get her detailed statement,” Bill said, “but I kind of stepped in to stall things, figuring you’d be here soon.”

Kenny and Nolan slowly approached the back of the ambulance. June didn’t even acknowledge their presence, staring past them.

“Bets,” Kenny said. “Sweetie?”

She looked up at them, then at June. “Can I?” she softly asked.

That was when June finally moved. She kissed Betsy’s forehead and whispered something into her ear. Then June removed her arm from around Betsy’s shoulders and she slid to the far end of the bumper, but still stayed within arm’s reach of her friend.

Kenny and Nolan gathered around Betsy. “Are you okay?” Nolan asked.

“No, she’s not f*cking okay,” June said in that same flat, scary voice she’d used that day in the driveway when Nolan had talked with her. “The f*cker tried to kill us.”

He turned to look at her. She met his gaze, unflinching, unblinking, her jaw tight and every muscle in her face and neck starkly visible.

They heard more shouting by the gate, a familiar voice, and Bill waved someone else through. The vehicles and angle blocked their view of who it was.

Then Scrye came pounding up, panting, his T-shirt and shorts soaked with sweat.

Nolan would testify in court if asked that June’s feet didn’t even touch the ground as she flung herself off the ambulance bumper at her husband. He caught her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, buried her face against his chest, and started sobbing as he held her and stroked her back. He walked over, turning to sit on the bumper next to them.

“May I?” he asked.

Nolan suppressed a nervous laugh. “Our bumper is your bumper.”

Nolan returned his focus to Betsy and tuned out the soft whispers Scrye spoke to June, her sobs now nearly as loud as Betsy’s had been.

It did seem the tiny, terrifying gymnast had a two-hundred-pound-plus weak spot.

Kenny’s phone rang, but he ignored it. Then Nolan’s rang, and he answered it. It was Ed.

“You f*cking find them yet?”

“Yeah. They’re okay.”

“Jack?”

“Not so much.”

“Good. I’m getting a shower and some sleep. I’ll call you when I wake up. Ross has Amanda’s weekend number. He’ll take care of whatever needs to be taken care of until I get back.”

“Thanks.”

Two crime scene deputies wheeled a gurney with a body bag on it out toward the Medical Examiner’s van. Nolan shifted position, in case Betsy looked up, so she couldn’t see it. He glanced over and saw Scrye lift one of his hands and press June’s face against his far shoulder, keeping it there and keeping her in place as he continued whispering to her.

Nolan knew he heard “good girl” and then tuned out, sure that whatever was being said was way too private for his ears.

Instead, he focused on Betsy.