The Sorority Murder (Regan Merritt, #1)(109)

“I’m not going to die! I’m not going to prison.”

“Let Lucas go, and I’ll let you leave.”

“I’m not an idiot, Regan.”

“Walk with Lucas to your Jeep, get in, and leave. I’m not a cop. I can’t arrest you.”

“You’re not going to let me go.”

“I will, as long as you don’t hurt Lucas.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Rachel was now at the mine entrance. Her knife cut into Lucas; blood seeped through his white shirt. Regan didn’t like this. It didn’t seem that Rachel even realized what she was doing.

“I know who’s down in the mine,” said Regan. “Adele Overton and Joseph Abernathy. You killed him, made it seem like he left town after he supposedly killed Candace.”

Rachel stared at her as if Regan had read her mind.

Regan continued. “You thought you could kill Lucas and add his body to the collection. But if you kill Lucas, I will kill you. You have until the count of three. Drop the knife, or I take you down. One.”

“You can’t shoot me. I’m unarmed.”

“Two.”

Rachel pulled Lucas with her into the mine. But as she did so, her hand hit the wood planks, and the knife fell to the ground.

Regan ran toward them. Rachel looked like she wanted to pick up the knife but saw Regan coming and disappeared into the mine, still holding Lucas.

Regan followed. “Lucas!”

She couldn’t see anything at first, completely blind in the dark, only a thin beam of light coming through the opening.

To her right was movement, but she couldn’t tell if it was Rachel or Lucas, so she couldn’t shoot.

At the last minute, she saw a rock coming at her. She ducked just in time, but then a second rock hit her head, and a third pummeled on her shoulder. She winced, barely keeping herself from crying out. She wouldn’t give Rachel the satisfaction.

“Lucas!” she called.

“Here.”

His voice was faint, but he was somewhere on the ground.

Rachel rushed her from the right, a small boulder in her upraised hands. Regan had been expecting it, based on the trajectory of the rock that hit her. Regan could barely see, but she had her gun out and fired three times.

Rachel fell to the ground.

“Lucas! Give me your hand.”

She saw a hand come up in the dim light, and she grabbed it, pulled him up. She saw Rachel’s body in the shadows, prone on the ground, and while she was certain she was dead, Regan needed to get Lucas to safety before she could be sure. She immediately left the mine, holding Lucas up.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

Four deputy sheriff’s vehicles pulled into the clearing.

“Gun down!” one of them called out.

She immediately holstered her weapon. “I’m Regan Merritt. My identification is in my truck on the ridge. I’m working with Brian Hernandez from Flagstaff. The kidnapper is in the mine. I shot her. Be careful, I don’t know if she’s dead, and I don’t know if she has another weapon. Her knife is on the ground near the entrance.”

She sat Lucas down behind the Jeep and he leaned against the rear, his head resting on the bumper. “Are you okay?” she asked again. “You’re bleeding.”

He was out of breath, perhaps drugged, but he was alive.

“Talk to me, Lucas.”

“I’m okay. It hurts, but I’m okay.”

Thank God, she thought.

He hugged her. “Thank you. Thank you for coming for me.”

An ambulance came and took Lucas to the hospital for stitches and to make sure there were no other injuries. Lizzy went with him. The coroner had left with Rachel’s body. The sheriffs were already on-site, along with the fire department, and the US Forest Service that was responsible for the mine.

Lucas had given his statement before he was transported, and Regan gave her statement and turned over her gun for ballistics, knowing she’d get it back. It was a justified shooting. Though she wasn’t a marshal anymore—and would never be one again—she had the credentials to withstand an investigation. Clearly, she fired in self-defense.

A team of two had gone into the mine more than an hour ago. Regan wasn’t leaving until she knew if she was right.

You know that you’re right.

Brian Hernandez showed up shortly after the ambulance left. He talked to the assistant sheriff, who was in charge of the situation, then walked over to where Regan was sitting in the front seat of one of the deputies trucks. Alone. She wasn’t good company right now, and she just wanted to know if there were bodies in the mine so she could go home.

Brian put his hand on the roof of the truck, standing by the open door. “It looks like a clean shoot.”

“It is.”

“The kid’s going to be okay.”

“He will be.”

“You okay?”

“Yep.”

“That cut over your eye is going to leave you with a nice shiner.”

She shrugged. “It’ll heal.” The paramedics had cleaned out the wound and bandaged it. Her shoulder hurt a lot more.

“The chief is going to want to talk to you. You’re a civilian now.”

“I know.”