The Wrong Bones (Widow's Island #10)(23)

Tessa’s phone buzzed. She reached for her duty belt and tilted it to read the screen. “It’s a text from Cate. Mona Lawrence just picked up Chandler.”

“Good. I’ll feel better when he’s off the island.”

“Me too.” Tessa opened two water bottles and handed him one. They drank, then turned back to Kurt’s vehicle.

Tessa crouched beside the driver’s door. Two holes pierced the laminated glass of the windshield. The passenger window, comprised of tempered glass, had shattered. Glass pebbles covered the passenger seat.

Logan leaned into the vehicle. “Do you see a bullet?”

She scanned the interior. “No.”

Logan stepped back. “The shooter must have opened the door to let Dwyer out.”

The steel mesh separating the front and back seats was intact, and the rear doors could be opened only from the outside.

“Were Simon and Dwyer working together?” Tessa asked.

“It’s possible,” Logan agreed. “Dwyer is from Suquamish. That’s not far from Bainbridge.”

Tessa radioed dispatch and provided an update of the situation. “Put out a BOLO alert for Webb Dwyer.” She supplied his physical description. “And for the F-250 Kurt reported. I’ll notify the ferry operators to be on the lookout.”

“I’ll call the harbor masters at the marinas in case he tries to steal a boat.” Logan pulled out his phone. “We have a license plate number for the truck, right?”

“Yes!” Tessa’s brain whirled. How had she forgotten? Tapping her mic, she contacted dispatch again. “Give me the information for the license plate Deputy Olson called in.”

Dispatch replied in seconds, repeating the number. “The vehicle belongs to Simon Dooley.”

Tessa grabbed the extra body armor vest she kept in her vehicle. She handed it to Logan. “Let’s go get that bastard.”





8


Fifteen minutes later, Logan stared through the windshield of Tessa’s cruiser at the Dooley house. “Looks empty.” But he had an itch he couldn’t scratch between his shoulder blades. Could be the sweat drying under his thick body armor.

Or his instincts telling him something had gone seriously sideways here.

Those instincts had kept him alive on deployment, and he’d learned to listen to them.

While she was driving, Tessa had called the sheriff and given him a detailed update. He and several deputies were heading to Widow’s in a sheriff’s department boat. He’d be there in forty-five minutes.

“He could be hiding.” Tessa grabbed the mic and reported their arrival to dispatch.

“Vehicles could be in the garage.” Logan pointed to an oversize three-car garage about a hundred feet away.

Tessa climbed out of the SUV and pulled her weapon. They circled the garage, but the only windows were twelve feet above the ground.

Logan adjusted the Velcro strap on his vest and drew his handgun. They approached the front door. Normally, they’d prefer to have more deputies on hand, but neither of them was willing to wait for backup to arrive from the mainland. That would take hours. An active shooter had to be stopped.

The ferry operators were on the lookout for Dwyer and Simon, but there were other ways off the island. For someone who had already killed a teenager and shot a cop, stealing a boat wouldn’t seem like a stretch.

The house was still. The sun shone on the glass, the reflection making it hard to see inside.

“I doubt he’s here.” Tessa pressed her shoulder to the doorframe.

“He wouldn’t know that Kurt called in his license plate number.” Logan took a position on the opposite side of the door, avoiding the center in case someone shot at them.

Tessa banged on the door. “Sheriff’s department.”

Nothing moved inside.

Fresh sweat dripped down Logan’s back.

Tessa tried the doorknob. “Locked. Let’s walk around back.”

They crept along the side of the house, shielding their eyes and peering in windows when possible. “I don’t see anyone.”

The three-car garage had no windows, so they couldn’t see if any vehicles were present. They reached the back of the house. Three sets of sliding glass doors spanned a huge deck that overlooked Widow’s Bay. They climbed a flight of wooden steps. Crouching, Tessa jogged to the side of the end set of doors. Logan followed her, feeling exposed. They stopped for a breath, their backs to the cedar siding.

Tessa reached for the door handle. They both startled when it slid open. Their eyes met, and Tessa inclined her head toward the open door. She peered around the frame. Logan did the same, gazing into a great room. A huge stone fireplace dominated the living room. In the kitchen, modern stools surrounded an island the size of an SUV. But Logan saw no one.

They went through the door as a unit. For obvious reasons, Logan took the high targets, while Tessa aimed low. They sped through the great room, checking behind the huge island and opening a pantry. They went down a hallway to the foyer. Light poured into the two-story space. An office was empty. They headed for the stairs leading to the second floor. On the upstairs landing, Logan paused.

They crept down the hallway, then stopped at the first doorway. Logan’s heart pulsed in his ears. He fought the tunnel vision effect brought on by adrenaline. A twin bed with navy-blue bedding occupied the first bedroom. Chandler’s? Tessa opened the closet door. Jeans, T-shirts, and sweaters were folded on shelves. No room for a person to hide.