Hush (11 page)

“My dad—” Nate started to speak, but Hawkins put up his hand.

Eyeing Nate warily, Hawkins hitched his chin Anna’s way. “I’d like to hear it from the lady, if you don’t mind.”

“Caleb Carlisle’s the man who ambushed Charlie and me in the library. He attacked me again today, and—”

Simone stepped forward, pointed a shaky finger at Caleb. “It was
you
! You murdered Megan. And you kept her necklace for a trophy.”

Hawkins brows snapped together. “That right, Caleb? You kill that poor girl?”

Caleb stood mute, his body stiff and unmoving. His cocky expression had vanished.

Simone retrieved the necklace from where she’d thrown it to the floor. “I have proof. I found Megan’s necklace in Caleb’s house. I made a terrible, terrible mistake. I suspected my own husband, when the whole time it was
him…
” She shook her fist at Caleb. “He’s the murderer.”

Hawkins frowned. “You ran away on your own then, because you were scared? Your husband hasn’t harmed you?”

“Yes. And no. God no.” Simone went to Nate, laid her head on his shoulder.

Hawkins’ tense expression relaxed by a fraction. “Good.”

Keeping his weapon trained on Carlisle, Hawkins sidled up to Anna. “I appreciate your help, Miss Kincaid. I’m gonna wanna hear all about how you managed to apprehend this asshole as soon as we get…” His gaze flicked to her wrist and back up. “What the hell happened to your arm?”

Awareness pricked along the nerves in Anna’s wrist and hand. She could suddenly feel the pain of a thousand ice-picks chipping away at bone. Her arm threatened to collapse under the weight of the gun in her hand. “I think he, I think Caleb, broke my wrist.”

Hawkins reached back and held out his open palm for Anna’s gun. “Careful.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, Anna pointed the pistol to the floor and handed it off to the sheriff.

Then he flashed her a twisted smile that sent a chill racing down her spine.

“Is backup on the way?” she asked. “Did Charlie explain…” Her voice trailed off. As Hawkins stalked across the room, she saw a gun that looked like
her
gun shoved in the back of his pants.

“Charlie? You mean Drex? Drex didn’t explain a damn thing.” A smug, satisfied look slithered over Hawkins’ face. “It was my friend Caleb here who called for assistance.”

Rage raced through her body like fire, burning straight through her fear, burning straight through her pain. So. That’s how Hawkins had gotten here so fast—he must’ve been right outside the whole time.

Hawkins handed Caleb the gun she’d just surrendered. “This is one helluva mess you got us in now, boss.”

Hawkins was smiling, but Anna could see a tic setting in around his eyes. The man was nervous, scared.

Nate had blocked Simone and Bobby with his body again. Anna read disbelief on Nate’s face, and disbelief was dangerous.

Nate confronted his father. “Why did you do it? Why did you kill Megan?”

“It doesn’t matter, son. Just take Bobby over there and stay the hell out of our way.” Caleb jerked his chin to the east wall with the sliding glass door.

Nate shook his head hard. “I’m your son, for God’s sake. I deserve an answer.”

“I’ll explain once, but after this, don’t ever bring up that whore, Megan, again.”

Hawkins jittered his knee and pulled one hand over his face. “What the hell, Caleb? You said no witnesses.”

No witnesses!

Anna inched closer to her sister and mouthed the words
Run on my go.
Simone hesitated, looked down at Bobby in her arms, and then shifted her chin in what Anna interpreted as a nod.

“
No witnesses
means no witnesses, Caleb. We can’t let Nate go anymore than we can let the girls go.” Hawkins voice cajoled, as he purred out the words like a nervous cat.

Ignoring the sheriff, Carlisle kept his attention on Nate. “Megan was no good. I know you liked her, but to her you were nothing but a golden ticket. She thought that baby of yours was going to get her a free ride for life on the Carlisle gravy train…sort of like what you’ve had. When she lost that baby, she didn’t want to give up her golden ticket. She tried to extort money from me, son. She was going to cry rape.”

“But I never forced her. You could’ve just said no.” Nate took a step forward, met his father’s eyes.

“I didn’t know if you’d forced her or not. And frankly, son, I didn’t care. I didn’t want
my
good name dragged through the mud. Besides, I offered to pay her.” He shrugged. “Not to keep quiet though. I offered her fifty dollars to suck my dick, and the little bitch laughed in my face. Said she wouldn’t blow me if her life depended on it.” A low chuckle punctuated his words. “So I shot in her the head. She practically dared me to with a remark like that.”

Hawkins who’d been pacing the room during his partner’s speech pulled up short at Caleb’s side. “We
can’t
let him go.”

Carlisle waved his pistol impatiently. “Don’t piss yourself, Sheriff. I can control my boy, you’ll see.”

C
HARLIE CROUCHED INSIDE
the entryway of the old farmhouse, peering into the side room through the cracked-open door. So this was why Hawkins hadn’t picked up any of his calls; he was too busy covering Caleb Carlisle’s tracks. He could feel a scalding heat blister across his chest and prickle down his arms. Those sons of bitches made his skin crawl.

He flexed his right hand, willing a gun to appear. But that wasn’t going to happen. He’d left his pistol with Anna, and now it looked to be stuffed down the back of Hawkins’ pants. Charlie did a count.

First guns, then innocents:

Hawkins: one gun in the hand, one in the pants, possible backup heat.

Carlisle: one gun in the hand, possible backup heat.

Civilian count: Two women, a baby, and one screwed-up buddy.

Only an asshole would go charging into a scenario like this one. Somebody would wind up dead, and in his experience motherfuckers were always the last ones to die. Ideas sifted through his mind. He didn’t have a weapon, but at least he had his wits.

He’d rather have his gun, but sometimes you gotta make do.

First order of business was to improve the odds, and that meant he had to get one sonofabitch to come to him, leaving the other behind in the room. As hard as it was to walk away, he simply had no choice.

Stealthily, he made his way back outside—and then he went exploring. By the looks of the place, no one had lived here in years, so no potted plants to smash. If he remembered correctly, there was a sliding glass door on the east side of the house. That would get him into the room all right, but not before Caleb and Hawkins could spot him. He needed the advantage of a surprise attack.

If he could just lure one of the men to the back of the house, he could subdue him, confiscate his pistol and then sneak back in through the front.

But how to set the trap?

There had to be something around this place he could use. A glint of reflected sunlight caught his attention. He ducked his head around the corner to check it out and sure enough there it was, his made-to-order distraction.

Old tin trash cans.

He lifted a lid in each hand and banged them together, over and over again. He made one hell of a ruckus imagining the trashcan lids as Caleb and Hawkins’ heads.

A
NNA DIDN’T KNOW
how long Hawkins and Caleb had been bickering, but the longer the men argued the more time she had to come up with a plan. Her thoughts were racing when, from somewhere outside, a loud, tinny ruckus interrupted, repeated, crescendoed. It sounded like cymbals crashing up from an orchestra pit.

Anna’s heart leapt.

Charlie!

That had to be Charlie.

“What the hell?” Hawkins jumped and spun toward the sound.

To Anna, it looked as if he might piss himself after all.

“Sounds like…trash cans. Probably a raccoon, but you better check it out,” Caleb said.

“Me?” Hawkins peered around the room like a schoolgirl who’d just seen a mouse and needed a chair to climb.

“How the hell did a little chickenshit like you ever make sheriff?” Caleb snickered. “Oh yeah. I pulled the strings that got you where you are today. So stop with the bullshit and go check out that noise.”

Hawkins face hardened. “Whatever you say, boss.” He started toward the door, then turned. “Just one thing I gotta take care of first.” He raised his arm.

A booming noise.

A muzzle flash.

Scarlet bloomed onto the front of Nate’s shirt.

Nate fell back onto Simone and together they folded to the ground. Covered in crimson spatters, Simone hovered on hands and knees beside Nate, sobbing. Bobby wailed, then crawled through a pool of his father’s blood.

Hawkins’ whole body started to shake. Sweat beaded his brow and dripped from his nose onto his upper lip. “I had to do it, Caleb. You would’ve let him run the minute I was out this door.”

Caleb yanked his arm up.

C
HARLIE WAS STARTING
to feel a little smug, a little smarter than he ought to, banging on those trash cans when suddenly…

Crack!

The unmistakable sound of gunfire.

No more time for wits and strategy.

Charlie ran like hell to the nearest entry point, the glass door on the east wall of the house, just in time to see Caleb Carlisle yank his arm up and point his gun at Hawkins.

A loud boom followed a muzzle flash.

Hawkins chest jerked, and his body blew back against the wall.

Nate lay in a pool of blood—one arm twitching.

Charlie grabbed a patio chair, smashed it through the sliding glass door. Then he followed the chair and dove into the room in a hailstorm of glass and thunder.

Once inside the room, his assessment was lightning fast.

Two men down.

Caleb—still armed.

Charlie sprang over Nate’s body and tackled Carlisle from behind. The SOB bent at the waist and elbowed Charlie in the gut. An elbow couldn’t stop Charlie. He climbed Caleb like he was a bronco, locked onto his gun hand and twisted with all his might. When that didn’t work, he used his thumb to put pressure on the radial nerve, the underside of Carlisle’s wrist. The gun thudded to the floor.

Carlisle growled and bucked harder.

Charlie rode the adrenaline-fueled bull, doing his damnedest to steer Caleb away from the women. Charlie’s arms burned from the tight chokehold he had on Carlisle, but he had no intention of letting go. He’d ride this motherfucker all night long if he had to.

“Run! Run!” Anna screamed at her sister.

Simone grabbed Bobby and fled out the front. An enraged Carlisle reared up.

Charlie kicked him hard in the sides. Carlisle reared again, and this time Charlie lost his hold and flew through the air. Landed on his back. Before he could scramble to his feet, Carlisle grabbed his pistol again, aimed it straight at him. The barrel of that gun was the deepest darkest hole Charlie ever looked down.

His breath stormed out of his body. The beats of his heart sounded like they were coming out of stereo speakers. Then time gave him one last gift: It slowed down long enough for him to glance around and find his Anna.