Atonement (24 page)

When the car came in line with Nic, the mayor made eye contact and froze, his smile faltering. Cocking her head to the side, she dipped her chin down for a nod. The mayor's eyes narrowed, and he turned away, turning up the watts on his grin. He suspected she knew something, and he wasn't too happy about it.

Interesting.

Her PTSD forgotten, Nic scanned the crowd. Was the person—The Priest, as she'd taken to calling him in her head—responsible for the suicides here among all these people? Watching the parade? Choosing the next victim? She hadn't felt the sinister chill since that moment in the Killdeer yesterday, but she didn't wave it off either.

About-facing, she headed in the direction she'd come, trailing the mayor's car. His reaction set wrong with her. No way had Sheriff Hamilton disclosed anything to the mayor about what she and Con learned yesterday. This was something Hamilton wanted to keep under wraps until they had more proof, and he'd never say a thing to Walker. Unless the mayor paid a visit to Flo last night, and she spilled her guts. Or Walker knew about the mayor and Giselle, too, and warned him.

Nic hated where her train of thought was going. She dragged out her cell phone and pulled up Con's number.

“Nic, this isn't a good time to be chatting,” he said by way of greeting.

“Too bad. Watch the mayor as he goes by you and tell me what he does.”

“Why?”

A figure broke from the crowd and strode out into the street, heading straight for the mayor's car.

Nic's grip on her phone tightened as she recognized the figure. “Shit!”

“Bloody hell, Nic. What—” She jammed her phone in her pocket, drew her weapon, and cued her mic on the radio. “All units, stop the parade! We've got a gunman!” she screamed into the radio as she took off at a run.

A six-foot man in a Kansas City Chiefs jacket and a camouflage ball cap lifted his weapon, aiming it at the mayor. People screamed, and all hell broke loose. Nic slammed into bodies, trying to get around them, trying to get to the mayor in time. The crack of the pistol rent the air, and everyone dove for the ground. She kept running, hurtling bodies and dodging items in the street, and watched as the mayor's bloodied body slumped over the side of the car. His hysterical wife scrambled after him. Flashes of the past threatened to crowd out what was presently happening before her, but Nic had to strangle them into submission.

The gunman's arm shifted to the mayor's son-in-law, who sat petrified in his seat. Nic lifted her weapon and leveled it, center mass.

“Walker! Stop!”

Walker's weapon swung away from the young man, and he zeroed in on Nic. “You God damn bitch!” He stalked toward her.

Nic backed up, keeping as much distance between them as she could without tripping over people. “I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but put that weapon down.”

Her radio crackled. “Deputy Rivers, respond.”

No way in hell was she talking to the chief now.

“You're the reason my cousin is dead. And now you're ruining my life.” Walker's eyes were dilated, and his face was coated in sweat.

“You have no one to blame for your problems but yourself. And your cousin made the choices he did of his own free will.”

“Bullshit! He'd never hurt his wife and kids. Never.” Movement around Nic grabbed Walker's attention. “Don't move!”

The people trying to get out of the line of fire whimpered and shifted.

“Everyone, please stay down,” she said in a calm voice.

“Nic, I'm on my way.” Con's voice over the radio was a balm to her frazzled nerves.

She should take the shot, take Walker out. He was a threat, and he had to be stopped. But all these eyes, all these voices were preventing her from doing what had to be done. Because she couldn't have another mark against her.

“There's already been enough killing. Put the weapon down and lay on the ground.”

“No! I have to do this. I have to make it right.”

“Make what right?”

“He said it was the only way.”

“Who said it was the only way?”

“The Priest!” Walker's arm drooped as he slapped his free hand against the side of his head. He was acting like a lunatic. “I have to fix what's wrong.” He licked his lips. “Cleanse the sin. Get redemption.”

Nic bit back the curse. He was talking like his cousin and the others. “Walker, look at me.”

His eyes did a weird dance as they tried to focus on her. He was jacked up on something, probably that toxic cocktail Agent Hunt had told her and Con about yesterday.

“The Priest is wrong; you don't have to do this. There is nothing to be redeemed for.”

“Yes, there is. I've broken the commandments.”

“What commandments?”

A body moved next to him, catching his attention. Horror flooded Nic as she watched, frozen, while he grabbed up the girl she'd prevented from falling earlier. The child screamed as he clutched her to his chest, hiding like a coward behind her little body. From the side, the mother's frantic pleads cut through the air.

“I'm through talking. Get out of my way, Rivers.”

“Nic, we're here,” Con called from somewhere behind Walker.

“No! Everyone back off.” Walker's gun pointed at the girl. “I don't want to hurt her, but I will to keep you away.”

Nic swallowed hard. Her tunnel vision came back, and she focused on the single spot she had to shoot at, his forehead. She could make that shot, had done it hundreds of time in practice and made it a handful of times when she had to take down a target. But she wouldn't risk an innocent on a chance.

“Do as he says,” she ordered.

When Walker's head swiveled to make sure the others were backing up she noticed the clear transmitter in his ear. Someone was directing him on what to do.

“I don't know who The Priest is and why he told you to do this, Walker, but it's wrong. It's what your cousin did and look at what happened. His wife is dead and so is he. Why do this stupid thing like he did for no reason?”

“You don't get it. It's the only way to atone.”

“There's that damn word again. Atone. Atone for what? Being a jackass? Everyone has shit to deal with, but killing others isn't how you do it.”

Walker laughed; he was suddenly lucid and in control of himself. “Isn't that what you do? Kill people?”

Ice slithered through her veins. Her body was preparing, shutting down to ready for what would be her most difficult shot. She had to save that child. But could she save Walker, too? He wasn't acting in his right mind, but that was no reason to kill him. She had to find a way to stop him. Then maybe they could learn who this Priest was and why he was behind this.

“I was trained to protect the world from terrorists. And right now, Walker, you're a terrorist. Put the girl down and let's end this the right way. No one else needs to die.”

A weird light flickered in his eyes. His gun slipped away from the girl, and he redirected at Nic. “What about you, Nicolette? What's your greatest sin?”

His words slammed into her like a shot from a three-oh-eight. No one called her by that name except for The General.

“What are you hiding from these people? What commandments have you broken?”

“Who's talking to you, Walker?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Good-bye.”

He moved too fast for her to react, his gun going for the side of his head, and he pulled the trigger. Horrified screams joined the cries of the girl as she was dragged under Walker's body.

Nic's arms sagged to her sides. She crumpled, going down hard on her knees, gaping at his lifeless body.

Legs blocked her view of Walker, and suddenly Con was there. He cupped her face, said something to her, but she heard nothing. Her brain flashed between seeing Walker kill himself and that mission, watching those men die and doing nothing about it.

She'd failed another person.

“When the hell was anyone going to tell me about this?”

Con didn't bother to look at his chief. He was tuned in to Nic. She sat in a chair in the corner of the police department bullpen and stared at the men gathered in front of her. She hadn't said a word in the last four hours. Even after Agent Hunt had brought Cassy into the department, Nic still refused to speak. Con was worried she had shut down. For good.

“You've been sitting on this for two days,” the chief continued his rant, “and not once has one of you mentioned to me that someone was helping these people kill themselves.”

“Because it was just speculation until late yesterday,” Shane interjected, “and even then, we weren't 100 percent sure.”

“But you had enough wherewithal to call in a damn fed and not tell me.”

Hunt stepped forward, placing himself between the sheriff and chief. “That was my fault, sir. I asked Sheriff Hamilton to keep my assistance under wraps. We didn't want to put the public in a panic.”

“Well, you sure as hell have done it now. We've got a nightmare on our hands. Rogue deputies killing the mayor and then threatening a child before killing himself. Talking nonsense about being redeemed in front of the entire town of Eider and then some. On the busiest damn day of the year.” The chief finally flopped down in his chair and slapped his hands on the desk. “Scratch that, this is a FUBAR.”

Con rubbed his forehead and squelched the urge to groan. Chief wasn't kidding; the whole thing was effed up beyond all recognition. With the wireless transmitter in Walker's ear, they knew someone had influenced him. How convenient that they'd never be able to trace that transmitter, because neither department could afford that kind of equipment. No doubt the tox screen was going to reveal the same mix of drugs in his system that was in the previous victims in the other towns.

“Detective O'Hanlon, tell me what's going on,” the chief said.

Con met Shane's somber gaze, then looked at Nic. She blinked, and a spark of life came back in her eyes. With a sigh, he relayed everything they had learned in the last few days, adding that Walker's revelation that someone calling himself The Priest was assisting the victims turned these cases into murder investigations.

“And when did
you
suspect someone might be aiding the victims?” the chief asked.

“Actually, Deputy Rivers suspected it with the Tomberlin suicide.”

Removing his glasses, the chief rubbed his face and groaned. “And how do you all expect us to handle the press conference?”

“Sir,” Con said, “I think it best that Agent Hunt along with yourself and Sheriff Hamilton decide that. We need to keep Deputy Rivers out of the limelight.”

“O'Hanlon's right. Send those two home,” Agent Hunt stated.

The chief's head swiveled to Nic. “Why the hell didn't you just shoot the bastard before he grabbed that little girl?”

Whether it was the right thing to say or the wrong one, the chief's demand brought Nic back from whatever personal hell she was wallowing in. Con bolted to his feet the same instant she did, but he held his ground when that was as far as she went.

“Why don't you just come out and say it? Why didn't I kill the bastard before he wrecked more lives? It's all fine and dandy when you've got a killing machine at your disposal, so you don't have to soil your hands and you get to be the condescending asshole.”

“Rivers.” Shane's tone carried a deadly warning.

It didn't deter Nic. “I'll tell you why I didn't pull that trigger. I wasn't about to add another death to my conscience. You all think it's so easy to just take a life because I'm a trained sniper. You're not the ones going home at night and seeing their lifeless faces in your dreams.”

Slowly, the chief rose to his feet. “Deputy Rivers, you were hired to protect the citizens of this county. And that means doing whatever it takes to stop the threat.”

A deadly scowl crossed Nic's face, one that Con had seen only once before—when confronting her father. “I'm not your killing whore. And I don't take orders from you.” She spun on her heel and stormed out of the bullpen.

Con bolted after her the same instant Cassy did. He ignored the order to return and barreled through the glass doors into the lobby where Nic had stopped at the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows and the door leading outside. Across the lawn, a crowd of reporters and news crews had set up shop, waiting for the press conference.

“Nic, we can go out another way.” Cassy turned to him. “Is there a back way from here?”

He pointed to their left. “At the end of the hall, through the door, and hang a left. That hall takes you outside through an emergency exit.”

Cassy gripped Nic's arm. “Let's go.”

Nic jerked free and continued to glare at the window. Her spark of life back in the bullpen was fading.

Carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. She had been so unresponsive after Walker shot himself, Con didn't know how to reach her, short of slapping her face. Now she was crawling back inside her shell again. Leaving him behind.

“Nic,” he tipped her chin up and made her look at him, “you did the right thing. Doug couldn't be saved.”

“You don't know that,” she whispered, then stepped out of his hold.

She shuttered her emotions, putting up a wall between them, and with it, Con sensed her locking him out of her life. Pain lacerated him. Even after last night, she was still trying to push him away, block him from getting to her heart.

Averting her eyes, she left him and walked down the hall past her sister. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to follow, but his rational side talked him out of it. He noticed the pinched expression on Cassy's face before she joined Nic.

Bloody fool. For a moment, he'd actually believed that Nic might have feelings for him, something more than alleviating an urge. Instead, she'd used him.