This Fallen Prey (Rockton #3)(118)

I must talk to Petra. That is obvious, but my gut screams at the idea. It tells me I’m mistaken—that both Dalton and I were obviously mistaken. Petra? No. Never Petra. She’s my friend.

Which doesn’t mean shit, does it? Diana was my friend. Beth became my friend. Even Val had been inching toward something akin to friendship.

I can tell myself no, not Petra, but then I remember her on the back deck of the station, going after Jen. I remember the look in her eyes.

I tell Dalton that I want to do this alone.

I find Petra at home, working on a sketch, and she welcomes me in, as she always does, with a big smile, and again I tell myself I’m wrong. I must be wrong.

She starts to lead me inside, but I stay in her front entryway.

“I saw you in the forest.”

“Ah.”

That’s what she says. It’s all she says, and I feel anger surge, outrage and yes, hurt.

“I saw you shoot Oliver Brady,” I say.

“Are you sure?”

Are you sure?

Not a moment of surprise, just a cool semi-denial, a lackluster defense that cuts deeper than any feigned confusion.

The anger flares, white-hot, and I advance on her. She doesn’t step back. She doesn’t flinch. She just meets my gaze with a level stare.

“I saw you,” I say, “Eric saw you. We were not mistaken.”

She says nothing.

“I just told you that Oliver Brady is dead, and you didn’t bat an eye. No one else in town knows. That alone proves you were there, Petra.”

“I’m not denying I was there. I’m asking if you’re sure I’m the one who shot him.”

“You—”

“Am I your friend, Casey?”

It takes everything I have not to throw her against the wall, like she did to Jen.

“Don’t you dare—” I begin.

“I’m not asking you to drop this because I’m a friend. I’m asking you to trust me because I’m a friend.”

“Trust that you didn’t kill—”

“Just trust me.” She meets my gaze. “I am your friend. Yours. Eric’s. Rockton’s. Whatever happened out there wasn’t a tragedy. It was cleanup.”

“Who gave you the right—?”

“I’m not saying I shot Oliver Brady, Casey. I’m saying that it doesn’t matter who did. Not really. He’s dead, and that’s what had to be done, and if you’d like to come in and discuss it . . .”

I turn and walk out.

This isn’t over. This isn’t like it was with Mathias, a resident who saw our predicament and solved it for us. Petra might play it that way, but it isn’t the same. Even with Mathias, he is no “random resident,” no ordinary citizen driven to act outside his nature.

This was an execution. An ordered execution. Otherwise, we have a resident who somehow found a gun and silencer lying around and wandered into the forest in hopes of finding us, then saw and shot Brady to protect us. Despite the fact that, at that moment, he posed no threat.

Someone told Petra to kill Brady. And she did. Which means there is so much more to this—and to her.



Dalton doesn’t know what to say about Petra. For now, there’s no time to discuss it, much less pursue the matter. We have Kenny to worry about.

A bullet that close to the spine is a dangerous thing. Even moving him may have made the situation worse. To take him up in a plane and fly him to Whitehorse? We could do no more than pray we don’t make things worse. We almost certainly will.

Dalton and I sit on the back porch of the clinic, after seeing Kenny and assessing the situation.

“Fuck,” Dalton says. “I don’t even know what to do.”

“Is there any chance the council will fly in a surgeon?”

He shakes his head. “They can’t even get us a doctor. Where the hell will they find a neurosurgeon?”

I take a deep breath. “April.”

He looks over. “Your sister? Right, she’s a neuroscientist, isn’t she?”

“Yes, but she was a medical doctor first. She specialized in neurosurgery. She didn’t care for it, so she got her doctorate and went into research instead. Did I mention I come from a family of overachievers?”

I give a wry smile. Dalton lays his hand on mine, and I realize I’m tugging a thread on my shirt, anxiously winding it around my finger.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” he says. “I know you and April . . .”

“I can try,” I say. “For Kenny, I can try.”

“Then let’s go talk to the council.”