Cold River - Carla Neggers [18]
“A.J. and Lauren do, too.”
Hannah started to say more, to tell Sean she was concerned about the effects of the trauma of the past months on her brother and his lack of direction, but she caught herself. “He’s strong. He’ll get through it.”
“He’s had a hell of a time. You, too.”
She let the snowshoes slide down her legs and stood them upright, leaning them against her thighs as she took in shallow breaths and looked around the small cabin. She pictured Elijah and Jo—armed, having headed up the mountain prepared for trouble—and the two teenagers huddled in the dark, a storm raging through the long night. They all had known a killer was out there in the cold. Had he run? Would he be back?
Still suffering from his encounter with Kyle Rigby before nightfall, Devin had been semiconscious, barely aware of the storm.
Then came morning…a foot of fresh snow…and the first shots that shattered the window.
“When the shooting started, there was nothing Devin could do. Being so helpless was hard for him….” Hannah pointed at the rough-wood beams high on the back wall, her hand shaking. She wondered if Sean noticed. “You can see where bullets struck the wood. One lucky shot, and anyone in here could have been hit.”
“Jo and Elijah had positioned themselves and Devin and Nora as best as possible.” Sean spoke with little detectable emotion. “Rigby had to have known what he was in for when he started shooting. He could have gone on his way. Instead, he waited out the storm and assaulted a cabin with an armed soldier and federal agent inside.”
“Jo pinned Rigby down from the front window while Elijah sneaked out the back door to go after him.” Balancing the snowshoes leaning against her thighs, Hannah looked back at the woodstove. “Jo told Devin and Nora to stay low. He said she was cool and focused under fire. Rigby had a chance to give up, but he kept shooting.”
“Devin did fine, too,” Sean said. “Eighteen years old, scared, targeted by contract killers—he still managed to save Nora Asher’s life. He warned her Rigby was after her.”
“He and Nora survived thanks to Jo and Elijah,” Hannah said, picking up her snowshoes. She tucked them under one arm and walked past Sean in the doorway, brushing against his arm, remembering—for no reason she could fathom—the feel of it around her back in March when he’d hauled her out of O’Rourke’s.
She stepped into the snow in her hiking boots, hyperaware of Sean watching her as she dropped her snowshoes side by side in front of her.
“Hannah,” he said, “what’s going on?”
She didn’t give him a direct answer. “Devin had his suspicions, but he didn’t know about this place. The police didn’t find it, either, when they investigated his death. It seems so easy to find now, but if you don’t know where to look…” With the heel of her boot, she dragged one snowshoe closer to her. “Everything seems more obvious in hindsight.”
Sean steadied his gaze on the sunlit snow and still shadows. “Rigby didn’t have to come back here after the storm,” he said, “but he knew he’d be marked for death himself if he failed.”
Hannah looked at the evergreens where Kyle Rigby had concealed himself and taken cover in preparation for his assault on the cabin. “He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t crazy or suicidal.” She spoke in a steady voice, consciously keeping her emotions contained. This had always been her way, she thought, and wasn’t a skill she’d learned in law school. “He gauged his chances and did what he had to do.”
“He assessed the terrain and picked his spot.”
She took in a shallow breath, hearing, in her mind, the gunfire that frozen morning, picturing Elijah’s and Jo’s focus and intensity as they’d confronted the hidden shooter. “Rigby knew that failure wasn’t an option. His own people would kill him if he didn’t succeed up here. It didn’t matter to him that he was taking on a Green Beret and a federal agent.”
“It was kill or be killed.