Part 38 (2/2)
He tried the doork.n.o.b. It was locked.
”Mrs. Fuller? Police.”
Silence.
”It's Detective Gaynor. Meredith Rawson is with me. You called her.”
The lock clicked. The door opened slowly and he saw Nan Fuller in front of him. Her face was pale and tearstained. Drying blood stained her dress.
”My kids,” Nan said, her voice rising as she tried to push past them. ”He said he would get them. He said he would get Ms. Rawson. He said he would finish the job.”
”Where are the children?”
”At the shelter, but he said he knew where it is.”
Gage was sickened that a police officer would cause such terror. ”They're okay. Your husband is dead.”
”Dead?” She looked dazed.
He hesitated, then said. ”I shot him. He was threatening Ms. Rawson.”
”Oh my G.o.d,” she said, leaning against the wall, then her eyes focused on Meredith and the blood dripping from her arm. ”I... It's my fault.”
”It's not your fault,” he said softly. ”He made the decisions tonight, not you. Don't ever think differently.”
”He shot through the door but I was against the wall. I thought he was going to break down the door. He tried. Then he heard the sirens.”
She trembled all over.
Meredith stepped over to Nan, hugging her with her good arm. ”He won't hurt anyone again.”
He heard another siren. The ambulance. ”Both of you should go to the hospital,” Gage said.
”My children!”
”I'll have a car pick them up and take them to the hospital. Do you have someone who can stay with you tonight?”
”A counselor from the shelter.”
Gage broke in. ”I'm sorry, Mrs. Fuller.”
”Why?”
”I should have recognized.... I thought keeping his job would keep him away from you.”
She shook her head. ”He knew his career was over. That he would never get a promotion. He blamed it on me. And Ms. Rawson. He said he would make her pay.”
Gage looked back at Meredith. She was still bleeding. He went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wrap around her injured arm.
”You don't follow directions very well,” he said more harshly than he intended. He had nearly lost her. ”You should have stayed in the car.”
”I know but I heard the shot....”
He heard the siren of the ambulance cut off as it stopped in front of the house. ”Come on,” he said. ”I want them to attend that wound.”
”I don't want--”
”I don't care what you want,” he said. ”You need st.i.tches.”
She started to get that stubborn look, then nodded. ”Will you come with me?”
G.o.d, how he wanted to. ”There's been a shooting, Meredith. I have to stay here and I'll probably be tied up for hours. I'll make sure someone meets you at the hospital and takes you home.”
”It's over,” she said. ”It was probably Rick Fuller all this time. I should be safe enough now.”
He didn't like easy solutions. He suddenly realized how much he had come to care for her. He liked her. Admired her grit. h.e.l.l, it was a lot more than that.
He had avoided admitting that to himself but watching her fall had caused icy fear to twist around his heart. ”We can't be sure of that.”
”I'll be careful.”
He reached up and touched her cheek. ”Don't go home alone.”
”I won't,” she promised.
Despite her wound, she put her arm around Nan and led her to the door. It was obvious her concern was more for her client than for herself.
He wished he could follow them to the hospital. He knew he couldn't and he braced himself for what was coming. It was a righteous shooting. He had four other officers as witnesses and a wounded civilian. Still, he knew there would be endless hours of interrogation and a suspension with pay.
When they went outside, he saw that the neighbors had started to gather. Two paramedics were kneeling beside Fuller.
He went over to them and stared down at the officer.
Gage had wounded before, but never killed.
He tried to swallow the bile in his throat.
'BISBEE'.
Using her new Social Security card, Holly opened a bank account, planning to deposit part of her money and keep the other half in cash. She might need some quickly without leaving any trail. She didn't want to think about that on this momentous occasion. She didn't want to think of leaving and building another ident.i.ty. She had been very lucky so far, and she knew it.
But the bank account provided a bankcard. It was one more form of identification, as well as building credit.
She'd already obtained a temporary driver's license, pa.s.sing the test yesterday with flying colors. For the first time, she felt secure in driving. It gave her a huge sense of freedom.
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