Into the Night(90)

Oh, God.

She’d worked side by side with him. She’d thought she knew him, but apparently, the guy had abducted Jonah Loxley.

The cops didn’t know where Wesley was. They’d put out an APB for him. She’d had a guard on her last night, but she’d sent him away that morning, thinking she was safe.

I don’t feel so safe any longer. Her hand tightened on her purse. She had a license to carry a concealed weapon. She’d told the cops about her license and the guy who’d taken her to the motel the night before—that cop—had told her it was a good idea to keep the weapon close.

She fumbled with the lock on her room and hurried inside. She shut the door, flipped on the lights and—

“Hello, Dr. Lang.”

Carlisle. No, Wesley. He was there. Screaming, she yanked the gun from her purse and whirled around. He was standing near the window. Sadness covered his face.

“It didn’t work. Susannah is dead, so many people are dead...and I don’t feel better. I just feel worse.” His hands fisted at his sides and he took a lurching step toward her. “Why won’t the pain stop?”

The gun shook in her hands.

“Why won’t it fucking stop?” He stared at her with wild eyes—and then he ran at her.

Amelia fired. He kept coming at her. So she kept firing. Over and over. Until he stopped running.

Until her gun was empty.


The next day...

“YOU SHOULD BE in the hospital, Macey,” Tucker muttered, shooting her a hard glare as she stood in the Gatlinburg police station.

“I’m okay.” But Bowen? He wasn’t as okay. He’d have to stay in the hospital for quite a while longer, but he would recover. He’d survive.

Then she’d marry that man.

“I can do this interrogation,” Tucker continued, motioning toward the one-way mirror. They were in the observation room, and Dr. Amelia Lang—a very pale Dr. Lang—sat in the interrogation room. Her shoulders were hunched and her hands were on the cup of coffee that rested on the table before her. “You don’t have to go in there.”

Yes, she did. “The case is almost closed.” A case that had drawn national attention. An FBI agent as a killer? Of course that story was on every TV channel.

But the story wasn’t over, not yet.

“I just need to ask her a few questions.” Macey gave him a quick nod. “I need to do this.”

The faint lines near his mouth tightened, but Tucker nodded. Macey turned away from him and walked slowly into the hallway. Samantha was waiting for her. When Samantha saw her, one dark brow arched. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

I said yes. I have a life to look forward to. So many good things...not just darkness. “Yes.”

Samantha pulled her close in a hug. “Congratulations,” she said, and her voice was warm. But when she eased back, a shadow had fallen over her face. “I will always remember seeing you on the side of that mountain, your body covered in blood as you fought to save him.” Her chin lifted. “I hope that man understands just how much you love him.”

“He does,” Macey told her, believing this with all of her being. “Because he feels the same way about me.”

Samantha considered that. “Yes, I believe he does.” Her gaze slid to the closed interrogation room door. “I’m assuming you want the honors?”

“I think I deserve them.”

Again, Samantha seemed to consider her words. “Yes, you do.” She opened the door for Macey. “I’ll be watching. If you need me, I’m there.”

Because Samantha had her back. Just as Bowen did. As Tucker did. They were more than just a team. They were a family.

And woe be unto anyone who messed with her family.

Macey walked into the interrogation room. Her heels tapped lightly on the floor. She didn’t have a manila file in her hand. Didn’t have an evidence bag. She didn’t need one.

Dr. Lang glanced up as she entered. Relief swept over her face. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Agent Night!” She rose, almost spilling her coffee cup because her hands were shaking so badly. “I heard about what happened to you and Agent Bowen. It’s a miracle you both survived!”

Macey stopped near the table. “I believe in miracles, Dr. Lang.”

Dr. Lang smiled, a quick flash, but then it was gone. “Please...just make it Amelia. We’re long past the formal point, aren’t we?”

Yes, they were. “I believe,” Macey continued, her voice calm and easy, “that there are good people in the world. People who want to help others. People who want to be happy and help their families and their friends to be happy. People who want to make the world a legitimately better place.”

Amelia still stood, uncertain.

“And I also believe that there are monsters in this world. People who seek out darkness. People who thrive on pain and chaos.”

“You think, Carlisle—I mean, Wesley—was one of those people?”

Macey pulled out her chair and sat at the table. Amelia slowly lowered into her own seat. She pushed her coffee cup away.

“I think Wesley Kaiser was a man driven to the brink of his sanity by grief. He’d lost his sister. He knew that she was dead, that she’d been murdered, but no one would believe him.”