Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(26)

Surprise flickered in his eyes, then panic. He licked his lips.

Tessa pulled her weapon. “Now.”

The door banged open. Abby skipped into the cabin, a cookie in her hand. “Roger! I’m home, and Mom made chocolate chip today.”

Tessa made a grab for the child, but Abby was moving fast. She blew past Tessa and slid to a stop in front of Roger, her head tilting in confusion.

No!

Roger snagged the little girl by the arm and hauled her in front of his body. He whipped out his pocketknife and placed the blade at her throat, a fraction of an inch from her smooth skin.

Tessa could not shoot at him for fear of hitting the child. Helplessness flooded her.

“That hurts!” Abby shouted, squirming.

He shook her. “Be still.”

She froze, her eyes opening wide with terror as she tried to pull her head away from the knife. “Let me go.”

The quiver in her voice broke Tessa’s heart.

“Don’t move, Abby,” Tessa said in a calming tone. “It’s going to be all right.”

Tessa wanted to believe Roger wouldn’t hurt a child he’d befriended. But he was a violent, cornered man. It was possible he’d killed Jason in a fit of rage, but Marybeth’s attack had been cold and calculated.

Abby began to tremble, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Why are you hurting me?” she wailed, her voice full of hurt and betrayal. “We’re friends.”





10


A child’s cry carried through the door. Logan drew his weapon and turned the knob slowly, silently, revealing a tiny mudroom. He crept past a stacked washer and dryer into a corridor. As he stole down the hall, he glanced into two open doorways. Empty bedrooms.

“Put down the knife, Roger.” Tessa’s warning came from down the hall. “Do not hurt that child.”

“Put down your gun,” Roger shot back.

At the end of the hall, Logan peered around the corner. Horror chilled his blood. With one arm, Roger held Abby close to his body, using her as a human shield. In his bandaged hand, he held a knife to the child’s throat.

Images rushed at Logan, all of a dead child covered in blood. Sweat poured from his body and soaked his shirt. His hands trembled.

“All right, Roger. You win.” Tessa lowered her gun. Stooping, she set it on the drop cloth that covered the floor. “Now let Abby go.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Roger jerked his head toward the kitchen area. “Kick the gun toward me.”

Tessa gave her weapon a halfhearted nudge that barely moved it.

Roger stared at the weapon on the floor, as if trying to decide whether obtaining the gun was worth getting closer to Tessa or allowing her to get closer to him.

But Roger made no move toward the gun, clearly deciding Tessa was too unpredictable. “Handcuff yourself to the refrigerator.”

Tessa did as she was told. Roger frowned at the gun on the floor. If he tried to grab it, he’d be within kicking distance of Tessa. Roger inched toward the door, keeping a tight hold on Abby. “Now throw your key, phone, and radio across the room.”

The items bounced on the drop cloth as Tessa stripped them from her person.

Logan considered his options. He had no shot at Roger. Both Abby and Tessa were in the way. Could he circle around to the front of the cabin and take Roger by surprise? Logan eyed the blade at the child’s delicate neck. If he jumped Roger, the knife could slip. Abby could be hurt—even killed.

He couldn’t let her be cut. She’d bleed to death right in front of him. Logan couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

No. Logan had to wait until the blade wasn’t as close to the child’s throat. If they got into a vehicle, Roger would have to lower the knife to drive.

And where would he go anyway? They were on an island, and the ferry operators would be looking for him.

Best for Roger not to know he was there. Logan wiped his sweaty hands on the thighs of his pants.

As Roger backed out the front door, he picked up Abby, turned, and ran.

After Roger and the little girl disappeared, Logan rushed into the room. He grabbed the key off the drop cloth and opened the handcuffs on Tessa’s wrists. She scooped her gun and phone off the floor and ran for the back door, whispering, “Don’t let him see us. If he thinks he’s safe, maybe he’ll let Abby go.”

They exited, then stopped at the corner of the cabin and peered around its side. Tessa pulled back. “Shit.”

“Where’s he going?”

“The boathouse,” she said, her voice low.

Logan remembered that Roger’s boat was a twenty footer. “His boat is too small to cross to the mainland on anything but the calmest of summer days. Winter seas are too rough.”

“I agree, but he’s desperate, and there are other islands he could hide on.” Tessa sent Kurt a text. Logan read it over her shoulder. She gave a quick update and asked him to alert the sheriff and coast guard.

Then she shoved her phone into her pocket and looked around the corner again. “We’ll follow them and try to separate Abby from Roger.”

She put her finger to her lips, then crouched and jogged across the grass toward the water.

At her side, Logan could barely see Roger’s shadow approaching the boathouse, then disappearing inside. A faint light flickered on.