The Silence (Columbia River #2)(71)

Was I wrong?

He’d been upset at the end of the last meeting.

Did I trigger all this? The shootings . . . David’s murder.

“Fuck that.”

“What?” asked Mason.

“Nothing. Talking to myself.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. Nothing has changed but the possible identity of who we’re looking for. What does it matter if it was one brother or the other?” she lied.

I didn’t know how Shawn thinks; I know how Reuben thinks.

And it wasn’t good for Jayne.

“I’m going to head your way,” Mason said. “The fact that we’re now looking for Reuben Braswell, who might be fixated on you, makes it more likely that he is the man holding Jayne.”

“Okay.” Mason is right.

“I’ll call when I’m nearly to The Dalles.”

“I’ll let Mercy know you’re coming.”

“I love you. Be safe.”

“I love you too. And the same goes for you.”

Ava ended the call with a numb finger, stunned that Reuben was now her quarry.

Did I not take him seriously enough?

“He was wasting my time,” she said out loud. It was true. She’d taken too long to decide that he had been playing with her and the FBI. She couldn’t have guessed that part of the reason he’d met with her was personal. She’d believed he was just another guy who felt the need to hit on her. She’d believed it didn’t mean anything; it happened all the time.

But this time it meant something.

Assuming Reuben was behind the murders.

It rang true in her gut, but she would keep her mind open to other possibilities. She’d been wrong before.

Her phone buzzed again. Mercy.

“I’m almost there,” Ava said as a greeting.

“Ava, I’m already in The Dalles and was just notified that there is a man holding a woman hostage with a knife to her neck here.”

Fear lit up her brain like a firework. “What?”

“Does this sound like something he’d do?”

Jayne collapsing to her knees flashed in Ava’s memory. “Yes. He can be violent. And we know Jayne has been the recipient of that violence.”

“That was my conclusion as well. We don’t have any names yet. According to the officer I talked to, they’re at an RV park across the river. Take the 197 bridge and it’s on the west side, not far into Washington. I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Ava pressed the accelerator. “Sooner than that.”



Eleven minutes later, Ava spotted a tall bridge with tan trusses. She took the exit and headed north toward Washington, crossing over the blue water. The lush landscape had turned a summer-toasted brown as she got closer to The Dalles. Now, as she drove on the Washington side, green trees were few and far between. Everything looked very, very dry.

Within a minute she saw flashing lights ahead on her left. A half dozen police cars were at the entrance to the RV park. As she pulled closer, she spotted Mercy. The tall, dark-haired woman in jeans and boots looked out of place among the uniformed deputies. She wore a ballistic vest with FBI emblazoned on the back and front.

Is this her day off?

Ava parked and grabbed her own vest as Mercy approached, a deputy walking beside her. She introduced him to Ava.

“Do you have an identification yet?” Ava asked, strapping on the vest. It was tight against her pounding heart.

“Not yet,” said the deputy. “The manager says he doesn’t recognize them and assumed they were visiting a friend. He called it in as a domestic dispute because the man was beating on the woman. By the time our first car arrived, he had a knife at her throat and yelled at them to leave.”

“Where are they?” asked Ava, following the two toward the huddle of vehicles. A woman shouted in the distance, but Ava couldn’t see her.

“Behind that second RV,” Mercy said, pointing beyond the police vehicles. “I got a glimpse of him a few minutes ago. Tall. Dark hair. I couldn’t see her.”

“She’s dark-haired too,” the deputy added. “She’s been screaming up a storm, calling him every name in the book. I don’t think he’s hurt her yet.”

Ava didn’t agree with the deputy’s assessment. The woman had been hurt; it just hadn’t stopped her shouts.

I can’t tell if that’s Jayne’s voice.

“Has anyone communicated with him?” asked Ava. She eyed the group of officers, wondering if they’d had hostage-negotiation training.

“No. We’ve tried, but he’s not responding. We’ve got two deputies around back with beanbag rounds and Tasers.”

“Keep trying to talk to him before going that route.”

“You okay?” Mercy asked in a low voice. “You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a long couple of days.” Ava kept her gaze on the second trailer. “Mason called me with an interesting update.” She told Mercy the details about Reuben Braswell not being dead.

“That’s a big screwup on someone’s part,” Mercy said.

“Mason’s blaming himself, but it does lend more strength to the idea that he’s the one with Jayne.”