Chapter 14 #2
“You of all people should understand.”
Hopper took one slow step inside. “Understand what?”
“That I did what the court refused to do.” Allen’s voice rose, not loud exactly, but charged with conviction.
“Calvin killed Emma. Your sister died, and twelve people let him walk because Lincoln Fleming kept the truth from them. They went back to their lives. Coffee, errands, card games, libraries, development deals. They took sanctuary in the same world that denied it to her.”
Hopper stared at him as if each sentence had to travel a long distance before it made sense. “You killed them?”
“I balanced the record. It’s called justice.”
“No.” Hopper’s voice cracked. “You used Emma as an excuse to exact revenge because you didn’t get your way.”
Allen glared. “I honored her.”
Holly moved. It was small, barely more than a shift against the couch, but Reid saw it, and the relief nearly took his legs out from under him. Blue whined and pressed closer, licking her cheek again. Holly’s eyelids fluttered. Her hand moved weakly against the cushion.
Allen looked down.
Holly drew in a thin breath and opened her eyes halfway. She seemed to fight her way through confusion, pain, and the sight of Allen standing over her with a gun. Her gaze found the cup and napkin, then Hopper in the doorway, then Reid.
“Reid,” she whispered.
“I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”
She glanced up at Allen. “You murdered innocent people.”
Allen’s attention dropped fully to her, offense and sorrow twisting together across his face. “You just don’t understand.”
Reid dove at him. He hit Allen’s gun arm upward, propelled him backward, and slammed his wrist against the wall. The gun jarred loose, hit the floor, and skidded toward the kitchen.
Blue launched himself with a furious snarl and latched onto Allen’s lower leg.
Allen shouted and buckled. Hopper kicked the gun away, sending it under the breakfast bar, then moved to block Holly with his body. Reid wrenched Allen down, driving him onto his stomach.
Allen fought with more strength than Reid expected, twisting, grabbing for Reid’s shirt, trying to hook a knee beneath him. Reid pinned him with one forearm across the shoulders and trapped his wrist high between his shoulder blades.
Blue shook his head, drawing a cry of pain from Allen.
“Blue, back,” Reid snapped.
Blue released only after Hopper caught his collar and hauled him away from Allen’s legs. The dog strained against Hopper’s grip, barking so hard his whole body shook.
“Keep him back,” Reid said.
“I’ve got him,” Hopper answered, though his voice sounded like gravel scraped raw.
Allen breathed hard, cheek pinned to the floor, anger finally stripped of polish. “Your grandfather caused this—all of this. He let Calvin Dodge walk out of that courtroom, and every one of those jurors carried that verdict like it meant nothing.”
“My grandfather followed the law,” Reid said, tightening his grip when Allen tried to jerk free.
“The law failed.”
“You failed Emma when you made her death about your righteousness.”
Allen went rigid beneath him.
Holly pushed herself up on one elbow. The movement made her sway, and Reid almost let go of Allen to reach for her. He forced himself to hold his position.
“Don’t sit up,” Reid said to her.
She ignored him. Her face had gone pale beneath the blood at her temple, but her eyes stayed on Allen.
“You were one of the people who made me believe Sanctuary could be safe,” she said barely above a whisper.
Allen turned his head enough to look at her. For the first time since Reid had come through the door, his certainty cracked around the edges. “I tried to make it worthy of the name.”
“You turned it into a hunting ground.”
“No.” Allen’s voice roughened. “I gave them a chance to confess what they’d done. None of them understood.”
“They were jurors,” Reid said. “They heard the case put in front of them.”
“They heard what your grandfather allowed them to hear.”
Hopper still held Blue by the collar near the couch, but his attention was fixed on Allen, grief hollowing him out in real time. “Emma wouldn’t have wanted this.”
“Emma didn’t get to want anything,” Allen snapped. “Dodge took that. The court protected him. The jury excused him. I’m the only one who remembers what justice is supposed to look like.”
Sirens cut through the evening outside, rising fast.
Reid gestured with his chin to his duffel. “Get my cuffs in there.”
Hopper pulled the flex cuffs out and handed them to Reid, still hanging onto the dog. Allen cursed as Reid secured his wrists.
When Reid nodded, Hopper released Blue, who ran straight to Holly. She wrapped one unsteady arm around his neck, and the dog pressed against her so hard she nearly tipped backward.
Reid hauled Allen to his knees and kept him there until heavy footsteps came up the stairs.
Claire entered first, weapon drawn, Emmet behind her.
They came with two uniformed officers. Her eyes took in the room in one sweep: Allen cuffed on the floor, Reid controlling him, Hopper beside the breakfast bar now, protecting Allen’s weapon, and Holly injured on the couch.
Her gaze stopped on the staged cup and napkin on the table.
“Allen is our killer,” Reid said.
Emmet moved to secure Allen, and Reid released him. Allen looked at Claire with cold contempt as she read him his rights, but when he glanced at Holly, something like wounded disappointment returned.
“You should have understood,” he said to her.
Holly’s hand tightened in Blue’s fur. “I did understand. That’s why this is worse.”
Reid went to her then. He dropped to one knee in front of the couch, careful not to jostle her, and turned her face gently toward the light. The cut at her temple was bleeding less, but swelling had already started, and her pupils made his stomach drop.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.
“Allen came upstairs.” Her words were slow, and she frowned as if each one had to be pulled from somewhere far away. “Blue scratched. The cup and napkin.” Her mouth worked, but nothing came out. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I think he hit me.”
“He did. Probably with his gun. Open your eyes and look at me, okay?”
She did so slowly.
“Concussion?” Claire asked.
“Yes,” Reid said. “Pupils are uneven. She lost consciousness.”
“I’m okay,” Holly said.
“No, you’re not,” Reid and Claire said at the same time.
Holly blinked at both of them, then winced as the movement clearly hurt.
Paramedics arrived behind the officers, and Reid gave them the basic information of what had happened to her.
Holly’s eyes kept slipping shut. “Where’s Blue?” she asked.
“Right here,” Reid said.
Blue nudged her hand, and she gave a weak smile that tore straight through Reid.
“I need to—” Her voice faded, and her body went slack against the cushion.
“Holly.” Reid caught her shoulders. “Holly.”
The paramedics moved fast, one checking her pulse, while her partner went to retrieve a stretcher.
Hopper clipped on Blue’s leash and kept him out of the way. The dog whined as they lifted Holly.
“I can take Blue,” Hopper said.
Hours ago, he’d been the obvious suspect. Minutes ago, he’d helped disarm the man who’d nearly killed Holly.
“Call my sister, Roni,” Reid said. He rattled off the number from memory.
Hopper repeated it back without missing a digit.
“Tell her Reid said Blue needs her. Tell her Holly is being taken to the hospital and I’m going with her. I’ll update her when I can.”
“You got it.”
Blue whined again, but when Hopper crouched and spoke quietly to him, the dog stopped fighting long enough to listen.
Reid put one hand on Blue’s head. “You did good, Sweet Blue. Roni’s going to take care of you now.”
Blue stared up at him, trembling with the need to follow Holly.
Hopper’s hand closed more securely around the leash. “I’ll keep him safe.”
Reid nodded once, then turned away before he could look at Blue or Hopper or Allen being taken through the broken doorway.
He followed the stretcher down the stairs and outside where Sanctuary’s lights still glowed, and chairs sat neatly tucked beneath tables.
Past the front door where customers had walked in that morning believing coffee was only coffee and safety was something a place could promise.
Outside, emergency lights washed the sidewalk red and blue. People were already gathering, trying to see what was going on. The paramedics loaded Holly into the ambulance, and Reid climbed in after her without asking permission.
The paramedic who climbed in with him didn’t object.
He sat beside the stretcher and took Holly’s hand, careful of the IV, careful of the monitors. Her fingers lay too still in his, and the sight of her blood on his hand made every breath feel like work.
The ambulance doors closed.
Reid bent his head over her hand as the vehicle lurched forward, carrying them away from Sanctuary and toward the hospital.