Too dark to tell if anyone was inside.
Sophie killed the engine and watched the Caprice approach in the rearview mirror. When she’d asked for backup, she’d envisioned more force than one lonely Statie. Then again, what could you expect in the sticks?
The Caprice pulled up beside her.
She grabbed a fresh magazine from the glove box and climbed out.
Slammed her door as the trooper stepped out of his cruiser.
Crisp blue suit.
Flat-brimmed hat.
Tall, rail-thin, blinding smile.
“Sophie Benington,” Sophie said. “So it’s just you?”
“Trooper Todd. But Bob’s plenty. What’s the dealio?”
“There was supposed to be a black van here. Three men abducted a fifty-nine-year-old patient from a psychiatric hospital in Kirkland. He’s violent. They brought him here was my understanding.”
“In the black van?”
“Exactly.”
“And how did you come by this information?”
“One of the other suspects called me when they arrived. That’s her car.”
“What’d she do?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
“We gonna go say hello?”
Sophie studied the cabin.
Curls of smoke plumed out of the chimney and up into the branches.
“I am.”
“I got a shotgun in my trunk.”
“This isn’t gonna end that way.”
“No offense, ma’am, but that’s not always up to us.”
“Why don’t you go around back. Make sure the van’s not there. Cover the back door.”
“When do I bust in?”
“You don’t. Not unless you see my gun. We clear on that, Bob?”
He released the button snap on his holster, grinned.
“It was a joke.”
Bob high-stepped his way through the overgrowth and disappeared around the corner of the cabin.
Sophie thumbed off the snap on her holster and started toward the covered porch.
Mist was forming across the clearing.
She’d been drive-off-the-side-of-the-road tired just moments ago, but now she was fully awake, all systems go.
As she climbed the steps onto the porch, she remembered Grant telling her about this place. It wasn’t the rose-tinted family retreat she’d expected. Or the weekend fixer-upper Grant had played it off as. If it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere, the county would have condemned it years ago.
The front door stood open a half-inch, but she knocked anyway, her palm resting on her Glock.
“Seattle Police.”
She heard footsteps approaching.
They stopped on the other side, but the door didn’t open.
“Sophie?”
He sounded so tired.
“It’s me, Grant. Everyone okay?”
“We’re fine. How’d you find this place?”
“Who’s in there with you?” she asked through the door.
“Just the three of us—Paige, me, my father.”
“What about our other friends?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yeah, they left a little while ago.”
“Would you open the door please?”
Nothing happened.
“Grant.”
The door swung open, but it caught on the floor and stopped after only a foot.
Grant looked burnt-out, confused, on edge.
The dim interior trembled in the firelight behind him. Sophie craned her neck to see inside, but he blocked her line of sight.
“Gonna invite me in?” Sophie asked.
Grant took a step back.
She squeezed through the opening.
Eyes slow to adjust.
Paige by the hearth.
Old man who was a dead ringer for Seymour’s receipt portrait sitting on a disgusting couch.
“This your father?” she asked.
“Yeah. Hey, Dad, meet my partner, Sophie Benington.”
Jim Moreton said, “A pleasure.”
“Are you injured, sir?”
Jim shook his head.
“I was at the hospital,” she said. “I tried to stop those men from taking you. I’m sorry I couldn’t.”
“It’s quite all right. I’m with my children now. How could things get any better?”
“Your condition isn’t exactly what I expected,” she said.
“He’s had a remarkable recovery,” Grant said.
“I’m sorry, I’m just confused. Those four men kidnapped you from the hospital just to bring you back to the old family cabin. Didn’t harm you in any way. And once they delivered you here ... they just left?”
Grant said, “Sophie, relax—”
“I’m all done relaxing. I’m ready for answers now.”
She moved past Grant into the gloom of the cabin, fixed her stare on Paige, said, “You called me here, honey, said—”
Grant fired a look at his sister.
“—you were scared. That the van was here, and you didn’t know what was going to happen. You asked me to come. I came. So could you or somebody at least extend me the courtesy of explaining what the fuck is going on?”
Paige said, “Grant, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what was waiting for us in this cabin. You weren’t talking to me. Those men were here. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Grant turned back to Sophie.
“I wish she hadn’t done that.”
“That’s all you got for me, partner?”
“I wouldn’t know how to begin ...”
She’d been simmering since her epiphany in Bothel, but with that, she felt it all boil over.
“You asked me to trust you. I did. Now Art’s in the hospital with a concussion. Seymour’s injured. I’ve been shot at. You kidnapped me. And Don ...” She felt a tremor enter her voice, steadied it. “Just so you know, I called Rachel. Forensics is at Paige’s house right now.”
Grant’s jaw had gone slack.
“How is she?” he asked.
“How do you think?”
“I’m glad you called her. So ... what? You’re here to arrest me?”
“I came first and foremost to make sure you and Paige were safe.”
“And after that?”
“To make sure you do the right thing.”
“Which is ...”
“Let me bring you in.”
“Bring me in.” Grant smiled. “And how exactly do you see that playing out?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. People are dead. Hurt. Missing loved ones.”
“Face the music time, huh?”
“Tell the truth. Tell your story.”
“Nobody wants to hear my story. I’ve sat in that interview room for thousands of hours. I can’t ever remember wanting to hear someone’s story, whatever that even means.”
“Grant—”
“I wanted to hear something that would help me make a case. You look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.”
She couldn’t.
He continued, “Our job is not about finding the truth. We want someone we can hand to the DA so they can throw them under the bus. Order restored. Citizenry comforted. I know how this will go down, and so do you.”
Grant looked over her shoulder through the space between the door and the doorframe. Of course he’d seen the highway patrol cruiser.
She said, “I know you’ve been through a lot. I know you’ve seen things that don’t make any sense. I don’t even dispute what you’ve said. But it’s time. You know that, don’t you? And don’t you also know that I will do everything in my power to support you?”
Grant looked at Paige, at his father.
“I want this to be over as much as you do,” he said.
“Then let’s end it.”
“Not happening.”
Everyone in the room turned to Paige.
She stepped toward Sophie, away from the hearth. “Walk me through this, Sophie. You show up at the precinct with the three of us in tow. We roll up to the front desk where some tired kid who drew the short straw is half-asleep because it’s Saturday morning. He looks up from his Sudoku puzzle and sees you standing there with three suspects in handcuffs. Are we in cuffs? I don’t know how this looks in your head. And then Grant steps forward and says, ‘I’m here to turn myself in for the crime of’ ... what? What does he confess to? What’s he guilty of?”
“Nobody said he, or you, or your father are guilty of anything.”