Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brian checked his phone for the fourteenth time in ten minutes.
The shop's second floor was dark except for the glow of a laptop screen showing the feed from a camera Diaz had positioned across the street from the cottage. Tessa was visible through the living room window, moving around, looking normal. Looking alone.
She wasn't alone. Two officers were in the Hendersons' place next door. An unmarked car sat at the end of White Gull Lane. Diaz was in a van two blocks over, monitoring Tessa's wire.
But from where Brian stood, she looked alone. And that made his skin crawl.
"She's fine." Hank's voice was calm. He sat in a folding chair near the window, binoculars in his lap. "Nothing's moving out there."
"Yet."
Colby leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Carla might not show tonight. She's been careful so far. She might smell a trap."
"She'll show." Brian didn't take his eyes off the screen. "She can't resist. Tessa alone, vulnerable, no truck in the driveway. It's exactly what she's been waiting for."
His phone buzzed. Diaz.
"We've got movement. Gray sedan, no plates, just turned onto White Gull from the north end. Driving slow."
Brian's heart rate spiked. "That's her."
"Probably. Hold your position. Let her commit."
The line went dead. Brian grabbed the binoculars from Hank and moved to the window. He could see the cottage, warm light spilling from the windows. A moment later, headlights appeared at the far end of the street.
The sedan crept past, slowing as it neared the cottage. It didn't stop. Kept going to the end of the lane, turned around, came back.
"She's scoping it out," Colby said.
"Looking for my truck. For any sign it's not what it seems."
The sedan passed the cottage again, slower this time. Then it pulled to the curb three houses down, and the headlights went dark.
Brian's phone buzzed again. "She's parked. Sitting in the car. Watching."
"How long do we wait?"
"Until she moves. Stay off the line unless it's an emergency."
The minutes stretched. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Brian watched the sedan through the binoculars, willing something to happen. Inside the cottage, Tessa moved to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and moved back to the living room. Acting normal. Acting alone.
At twenty-three minutes, the sedan's door opened.
A figure stepped out. Dark clothes, hood up. Carla. She stood beside the car for a moment, scanning the street, then started walking toward the cottage.
"She's moving," Brian said.
Colby was already at the door. "Let's go."
"Not yet." Hank's voice was steady. "Diaz said wait until she commits. She's still on the sidewalk."
Brian watched Carla approach the cottage. She didn't go to the front door. Instead, she cut across the neighbor's yard and disappeared around the side of the house.
"She's going to the back," he said. "The deck. The sliding door."
His phone buzzed. Diaz: "Back door. Officers are moving to intercept. Hold."
Hold. While Carla was twenty feet from Tessa. While anything could happen.
"Screw this." Brian was moving before he finished the thought.
"Brian." Hank grabbed his arm. "Trust the plan."
"The plan has Tessa alone with a woman who wants to kill her."
"The plan has officers ten feet away and Diaz listening to every word. If something goes wrong—"
Through the laptop's speakers, they heard glass shatter.
Brian didn't wait. He was out the door and down the stairs, Colby and Hank right behind him. Three blocks. He could cover three blocks in under two minutes.
His phone was ringing. He ignored it. Everything narrowed to the sound of his feet on pavement, the burn in his lungs, the cottage getting closer.
He heard shouting as he rounded the corner onto White Gull Lane. Saw the officers from next door running toward the cottage. Saw the sliding glass door hanging open, shattered.
He was through the door before anyone could stop him.
The living room was chaos. A lamp overturned. Coffee table shoved aside. And in the middle of it, Tessa on the floor with Carla on top of her, hands around her throat.
Brian didn't think. He grabbed Carla by the back of her jacket and hauled her off, throwing her sideways. She hit the wall hard and came up swinging, something metallic flashing in her hand.
Knife.
She slashed at him. He dodged, felt the blade catch his forearm, a line of fire. Didn't matter. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, heard her cry out, felt the knife clatter to the floor.
Then Colby was there, and Hank, and the officers from next door. Carla went down under the weight of four men, screaming, thrashing, fighting even as they pinned her arms behind her back.
"You ruined everything!" she screamed at Tessa. "Everything! He's gone because of you! My life is gone because of you!"
Brian ignored her. He was on his knees beside Tessa, hands shaking as he helped her sit up. There were red marks on her throat. She was coughing, gasping, but her eyes were open and focused.
"I'm okay," she rasped. "I'm okay."
"You're not okay. She was choking you."
"And then you threw her into a wall." Tessa's hand came up to touch his face. "You're bleeding."
He looked at his arm. The sleeve was wet, dark. The knife had gone deeper than he'd realized. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing. Let me see."
"Tessa. You just got strangled."
"And you just got stabbed. So we're even." She was already pushing up his sleeve, examining the wound with clinical focus. "It's not deep. You'll need stitches, but it missed the major vessels."
Behind them, Carla was still screaming as the officers hauled her to her feet. Diaz appeared in the doorway, face tight.
"Ambulance is two minutes out," she said. "Both of you, stay put."
"Get her out of here," Brian said, not looking at Carla. "Now."
Diaz nodded and jerked her head at the officers. They dragged Carla toward the front door, her screams fading as they took her outside.
The cottage went quiet.
Brian pulled Tessa against his chest, careful of her throat, careful of his arm. He could feel her heart pounding, could feel his own matching it.
"It's over," he said.
"It's over." Her voice was rough, damaged. "She's gone."
Hank appeared beside them, his face drawn. "Paramedics are here."
Brian didn't want to let go. Didn't want to stop touching her, stop confirming she was real and alive and breathing. But the paramedics needed access, and Tessa needed to be checked out, and his arm was starting to throb in a way that suggested the adrenaline was wearing off.
He let them work. Sat on the couch while someone bandaged his arm, shone a light in his eyes, and asked him questions he answered on autopilot. He watched Tessa on the other side of the room, a paramedic examining her throat, fitting her with an oxygen mask.
She caught his eye and held up her hand, thumb and forefinger forming an "okay" sign.
He almost laughed. Almost cried. Settled for nodding back.
Colby dropped onto the couch beside him. "Hell of a night."
"Yeah."
"That was a stupid move, running in like that. Could have gotten yourself killed."
"Probably."
"Would do it again, though."
Brian looked at him. "In a heartbeat."
Colby nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
They sat in silence while the chaos slowly settled around them. Diaz came back, took statements, and made notes. The paramedics finished their work and recommended a trip to the ER for both of them. Outside, the lights of the police cars painted the street red and blue.
Finally, Tessa crossed the room and sat on Brian's other side. She'd refused the hospital, signing a waiver against medical advice with the kind of confidence only a doctor could muster. Her voice was still rough, but the color was coming back to her face.
"Take me home," she said.
"We're home."
She looked around at the overturned furniture, the shattered door, the blood on the floor. "Take me to bed, then. Our bed. I want to sleep for about a hundred years."
"That can be arranged."
He stood, pulling her up with him. Hank and Colby were already organizing cleanup, talking to Diaz about boarding up the broken door. Someone had righted the lamp. Someone else was sweeping up glass.
Family. That's what this was. People who showed up when things went wrong and stayed until they were right again.
Brian led Tessa down the hall to the bedroom. Closed the door on the noise and the chaos and the aftermath. They fell onto the bed still dressed, wrapped around each other, holding on.
"Thank you," Tessa whispered. "For coming. For not waiting."
"I'll always come for you." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Always."
She was asleep within minutes. Brian lay awake a while longer, listening to her breathe, feeling her weight against him.
Carla Reeves was in custody. Webb was in federal detention. The threat was finally, truly over.
Tomorrow, they'd deal with the broken door and the police reports and whatever came next.
Tonight, he held the woman he loved and let himself believe that the worst was behind them.