The Wrong Bones (Widow's Island #10)(26)

She turned toward the garage door. Procedure would have to wait. Something was very wrong. Her bones ached with the certainty.

“Mona Lawrence just pulled up at the stop sign of Bishopton Road and Third Street. She was looking right at me and moving her lips. It looked like she was trying to say help.”

Tessa motioned to Logan for him to follow her, but he was already falling into step beside her. “Can you describe the vehicle?”

“It was a silver Toyota Corolla,” Sheila said.

“Could you see who was inside the car?” Tessa followed Logan out of the garage. They jogged toward her SUV.

“Mona had her window partway down, so I could see her,” Sheila said. “But with the sun and tinting on the windows, all I could see were shapes of other people in the car.”

“How many passengers?” Tessa asked.

“Definitely one in the passenger seat and probably someone in the back seat as well.” Sheila sounded uncertain about the additional passenger.

“And which way did Mona go at the stop sign?” Tessa pictured the town.

“Straight,” Sheila said with more confidence.

Toward the ferry.

“Thanks, Sheila. I’ll get back to you.” Tessa ended the call.

Logan used the dashboard computer to search for vehicles registered to Mona Lawrence. “She drives a silver Toyota Corolla.” He noted the license plate. Tessa relayed the information to Bruce.

They reached the vehicle and climbed in. Tessa punched the gas pedal, and the SUV shot down the driveway, lights flashing, siren screaming. As she drove, she updated dispatch and Bruce while Logan called Henry and told him to wait on viewing the body. Tessa didn’t want him responding to an unsecured scene—not with a shooter on the loose—after he’d been kidnapped and almost killed just a few weeks before.

“Henry doesn’t like it,” Logan said. “But he agreed.”

“The sheriff’s ETA is thirty minutes.” Tessa’s tires squealed as she took a curve in the road at high speed.

Neither she nor Logan commented. They both knew whatever was going to happen would likely be over by the time backup arrived. The minutes ticked by in slow motion. As they approached Bishopton Village, Tessa turned off the siren and eased off the accelerator. She didn’t want to warn Dwyer and/or Shannon.

The tourist town was designed to be quaint, with ice cream parlors, coffee shops, and gift boutiques. With the busy season coming to a close, the narrow streets were mostly empty. Tessa halted the car at the stop sign next to the Flying Fin. She continued straight, as Sheila had indicated. The ferry dock was at the end of the street. Tessa cruised while she and Logan scanned the tiny side streets for Mona’s vehicle.

Tessa reported her location to dispatch, then called Bruce. Since they were the only two law enforcement officers on scene, she preferred direct communication without radio chatter. And on the slight chance the suspect had a scanner, it was best if he didn’t hear the location or strategy of responders.

She put the call on speakerphone. “See anything?”

“No,” Bruce said.

“Where are you?” Tessa asked. He should have been in Bishopton Village before her.

“I’m circling around to the marina, in case they try to rent a private boat,” Bruce said.

“Good thinking.” There were a few charter boats available for hire, though those trips typically needed to be arranged in advance.

Logan stiffened, then pointed through the windshield. “Over there.”

She looked past the few dozen cars lined up at the tollbooth and spotted a silver Toyota Corolla in the back half of the line. Sunlight turned the windshield into a mirror. “I can’t see who’s in the car.”

“Me neither,” Logan said. “Can’t read the license plate either. But the car is blocked in by other vehicles. It’s not going anywhere.”

“I need to get closer. I don’t even know what we’re dealing with.” Tessa notified dispatch, then parked the SUV behind a bush and got out of the vehicle. She rose on her tiptoes. The Toyota hadn’t moved. “We’ll split up. Don’t move in, though. I don’t want to endanger bystanders with a shoot-out.”

She called Bruce and described the situation. “We’re going to get closer to see if it’s the right vehicle and get a look inside.” Hopefully, without being seen by the suspect. The last thing she wanted to do was increase the risk to Mona. But she couldn’t let an armed shooter get on the ferry.

“I’m on my way,” Bruce said.

After shoving her phone into her duty belt, she motioned to herself, then to the south, then pointed at Logan and the north side of the street. He nodded. Crouching, he circled backward, using a passing van to cross the street unseen.

Tessa crept along the opposite side of the road, keeping cars between her and the Toyota, until she was approximately fifty feet from the vehicle. After ducking behind a tree, she leaned around the trunk to get a better view. She could see the outlines of a driver and a passenger. The sun disappeared behind a passing cloud. Mona was behind the wheel. Shannon sat in the passenger seat. Tessa could see the shadow of at least one person in the back seat. The area behind the driver was a blind spot. Was Chandler in the vehicle? Dwyer?

The passenger door burst open, and Shannon Dooley stepped out, leveling a rifle right at her.