Watcher in the Woods (Rockton #4)(117)

Goddamn it, Diana. I cannot trust you, and I’m a fool for thinking I can.

I let myself go limp. Until now I’ve been scuttling along as he drags me. When I let my knees give way, he staggers backward. I close my eyes, as if I passed out.

He curses and drops me. I play dead . . . or unconscious, at least, lying on the ground like a rag doll. He grabs me by the jacket. Then he stops, and I don’t have to open my eyes to know what’s stopped him. My holster. He sees it. And he sees it’s empty.

I swing into the back of his knee. His leg folds, and I give him a shove. He punches at me. I kick him. Then as he’s falling, I slam my fist into his stomach. That’s petty and unprofessional, and I don’t give a damn. With my gun in my left hand, I plow my right fist into his stomach. He doubles over, and I put him down, flat on his back. Then I point the gun at him.

When he starts to rise, I say, “It’s only you and me out here, Roy. Give me an excuse. Please.”

He pauses and then lies down.

“Hands over your head,” I say.

I see movement to my left as Dalton jogs over. I hand him the cuff strap. “Can you take over here? I have no idea what happened to Jen, who was supposed to be guarding his ass.”

“He locked her in the bathroom,” Dalton says.

I stare at him.

He shrugs. “She went in to get a razor and help him shave. He broke the door knob. She escaped out the window and found me. She’s fine. Just pissed off.” He looks around. “Where’s Diana?”

“Don’t ask. Just . . .” I look at Roy.

“You go. I’ll cuff him and catch up.”





FORTY-SEVEN

As I’m jogging back to where I left Diana and Paul, I hear a shout. A scuffle. A yelp.

Goddamn it, Diana!

I race over to find Diana on the ground, pinned there by . . .

“Jen?” I say.

Jen looks up from securing Diana, who is spitting curses. “She was cutting a deal with Paul. I was out looking for Roy, and I heard them. Paul’s your killer. Diana here was blackmailing him.”

“As I was supposed to,” Diana snaps. “That was Casey’s plan. Which you just fucked up.”

“I—” Jen begins.

“She tried to go after Paul,” Diana says. “He bolted. She decided I was a fine substitute and let your actual killer go.”

“Which way?” I say.

Diana rises, giving Jen a shove and a glare as she does. Then she takes off, waving me to follow.

I quickly tell Jen to take over with Roy and send Dalton this way. Then I race after Diana. By the time I reach her, she’s veered onto a path for easier running, and we can hear Paul crashing ahead.

“You saw Roy stop me,” I say as I cut in front of her on the path. “You should have waited.”

“I knew you’d catch up, and it gave more weight to my story. Anyway, Paul went for it. He gave me this song-and-dance about how he hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, but Garcia betrayed him, and he isn’t really a bad guy.”

“Just misunderstood?”

Diana snorts. “Pretty much. I pretended I bought it, didn’t blame him etcetera, etcetera. He agreed to pay me to keep my mouth shut. I was haggling on the price, waiting for you to jump in, when Jen showed up. Where were you?”

“Roy, again.”

“Seriously? Can’t you just shoot him? Or Jen? I would pay you to shoot both of them.”

I’m not angry at Jen. I underestimated Roy’s threat and wrote him off as a blustering bully. He is, yet that doesn’t mean he can’t still be dangerous. As for misunderstanding the situation with Diana and Paul, I can’t blame Jen for that, either. I just wish she’d chased Paul and left Diana to us.

This is the problem with setting a trap. It’s not a controlled environment, as it would be if I just brought Paul in for questioning. I’d known an arrest wouldn’t work, though. I’d been operating on a theory with no solid evidence. So I had to trick Paul into incriminating himself, which meant trusting Diana to stay on-script and trusting Rockton to go about its business without any fresh crisis erupting until I finished. Which is, yes, kind of like asking the earth to stop revolving for a few minutes.

It’s gone quiet up ahead. I stop and put my fingers to my lips. Diana nods. I take out my gun and pivot, searching the surrounding trees for any sign of movement.

Voices drift from somewhere ahead. A laugh. A good-natured “Hey!” More laughter.

A work party. I check my watch. It’s almost five, exactly when any work parties would be heading in.

That’s why Paul has gone quiet. He’s waiting for them to pass. I pinpoint where I last heard him and begin creeping forward while motioning Diana to stay back. She lets me get ten paces ahead and then follows. Good enough. Probably best if she doesn’t stay in one place, the perfect target should Paul decide—

A cry from up ahead. A shout. A woman—Nicole—saying, “Let him go, or I’ll put a bullet—”

Paul cuts in. “You set that rifle down, or I’ll slit this kid’s throat.”

I break into a run. I round a corner, and I see them on the very path I’d been taking. It’s a chopping party, three guys and Nicole, as their militia guard. She’s still arguing with Paul, but she’s lowered her rifle.