“You have the kid.” She closed her eyes a second. “Why do you care about Ann so much?”
“I do not,” he said.
“Good. Because I’m going to kill her.”
“Do whatever you want,” he said.
Ann kept her gaze down, balled her fingers into fists, and readied to attack.
“You’re lying,” Maura said.
“I’m not.” Elijah sounded bored. “I don’t care about Ann or you.”
That last comment caused Maura to flinch, and she averted her gaze. Ann realized these were her seconds to act before Maura regained her composure and took her frustration out on her.
And so, in one wobbly move, she rose and lunged.
Ann drove her shoulder into Maura’s side. The strike caught Maura off guard, and she staggered back a step, trying to steady her balance. Ann shoved harder, tipping Maura off center and then backward.
They both hit hard. Maura took the brunt of the fall, the concrete floor knocking the breath from her lungs. Her cell phone flew across the floor, crashing into the wall. In the same moment, Ann’s shoulder struck the floor. Pain ricocheted through her body.
Gritting her teeth and determined to get back to her son, Ann rose up on her knees as Maura stood, readjusted her grip on the knife, and raised it over her head. The blade glinted and sliced toward her.
Ann threw her body weight forward, and digging her fingers into Maura’s wrist, she stopped the blade inches in front of her face. Blood pumped in her temples as she twisted Maura’s hands and the sharp tip away from her.
Maura had been in this kind of life-and-death struggle before, and she adapted quickly. She drove her head forward, aiming to butt Ann in the face.
Ann jerked her head to the left, and the intended blow grazed the side of her face. She shoved Maura’s wrist back so violently joints cracked.
“You bitch,” Maura screamed.
“This is my life,” Ann shouted as she manipulated Maura’s shoulder into a painful angle. “You’re not taking it!”
“Watch me!”
Maura shifted back suddenly, pulling Ann off balance. Ann’s grip loosened, freeing Maura’s hand just enough so she could bring the knife around and slash Ann’s side.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Missoula, Montana
Friday, August 27
2:30 a.m.
Gideon shoved the key in the front-door lock, twisted the door handle, and pushed open the door. Weapons drawn, both cops entered the house in time to hear a scream echoing from the basement.
They raced into the house, visually sweeping the darkened foyer and side hallway as they crossed the den toward the basement door.
Bryce heard the scuffle and struggle of bodies. He opened the door with such force it banged against the wall, and he raced down the steps with Gideon right on his heels.
When Bryce reached the concrete basement floor, he maneuvered his weapon toward the screams. His first image was of Ann lying on her back, blood staining her shirt as Maura straddled her body.
Rage and sadness collided as he pointed his weapon at Maura as she raised the knife, ready to strike Ann in the chest. The distance between them was too great to cover, given the speed of a knife blade. “Maura!”
She looked at him as she brought the knife down.
He didn’t hesitate and shot her.
Maura’s body recoiled slightly and then stilled, the knife motionless above Ann. Kicking her legs as she grabbed Maura’s arm, Ann shoved the knife away.
Blood bloomed on Maura’s shirt, and she toppled sideways. She lost her balance, and her body landed like deadweight. Maura rolled on her back, gasping. She stared up at the ducts in the basement ceiling and struggled to breathe. She still gripped the knife.
Gideon moved in and kept his weapon trained on Maura as Bryce holstered his weapon. Gideon hurried toward Maura and cuffed her wrists. Bryce shifted his focus to Ann as Gideon called for the rescue squad.
Ann’s shirt was soaked in blood, and when he reached for the hem of her shirt, he feared the damage he would find. Moments like this passed at a painfully slow pace, and fears took a back seat as his brain assessed the damage.
Panic was engraved in Ann’s expression as she struggled to right herself. Adrenaline still pumped through her body, but soon it would crash, and the pain would take over.
“Stay still,” he said. “You’re making the bleeding worse.”
“I need to find Nate,” she said. “Elijah told Maura he has Nate.”
He pushed up her shirt, ran his hand through the blood, and felt the torn flesh. She winced and hissed in a breath, but she held steady as he examined her. “It’s a long gash,” he said roughly. “It’s going to require stitches, but it doesn’t look like it damaged anything vital.”
She pressed her hand to her side. “I need to find my son.”
“Are you sure Elijah called?” Bryce demanded.
“Yes, I heard his voice. He wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
“Where would he take the boy?” He pressed his hand over her blood-soaked fingers.
“Maybe to his house. Maybe they’re already on the road.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I don’t know where Nate is.”
As Gideon pressed his fingertips to Maura’s neck, he called for the paramedics and put a BOLO out on Elijah’s vehicle.
“There’s no pulse.” He started CPR. “The ambulance is on the way, and the deputies are on scene.”
Ann shoved Bryce’s hands away. “I want to get up!” she insisted. “I have to find Nate!”
“Let the paramedics have a look at you first,” Bryce said.
“I don’t care about me,” Ann shouted. “I want my son.”
“You won’t do Nate any good if you bleed out,” Bryce said. “Be smart.”
The thunder of footsteps across the first floor signaled the paramedics’ arrival. The two hurried down the stairs, each carrying a small med kit.
One moved toward Maura and took over CPR from Gideon, and the other pressed clean gauze against Ann’s side. He directed Bryce to hold the compress in place as he tore open fresh bandages.
“She said she killed a girl in her hometown and that she killed the Fireflies and framed Thompson,” Ann said.
“We’ll sort that out later,” Bryce said.
“She’s insane, Bryce.”
“I know.”
“We need to take you to the hospital,” the paramedic said. “That wound is going to need stitches.”
“It can wait,” Ann said. “Patch me up. When I know Nate’s safe, I’ll go to the hospital.”
The second paramedic checked Maura’s pulse. “I’m not getting anything. She’s gone.”
Gideon’s phone rang, and Ann shifted attention to him. “Nate?”
“There’s no one at Elijah’s house,” Gideon said.
Tears welled in her eyes. “Where’s my boy?”
“I sent a deputy to your house as well,” her brother said. “Someone is inside.”
The shot of painkiller had taken the edge off the gash in Ann’s side, which for now was controlled by the compression bandage. The paramedic had cut off her bloody shirt, and she had changed into one of the extra shirts Bryce kept in his trunk.