Shattered Justice (28 page)

A shiver spidered up his spine as his gaze swept the ground.

He almost stepped on the first body. One second there was nothing but fog; the next he hit a leg with his foot.

“Whoa! Sorry about that.” Dan knelt, setting his equipment on the ground and kneeling beside the still form. “It’s okay; I’m the deputy sheriff. I’m here to help you.”

No response. No sound. No movement.

Dan could see the still form now, lying facedown in front of him. His heart seized. Either it was a short adult or …

A kid. No more than a teen, from the size of him.
Oh, Jesus—
his prayer was equal measures supplication and sorrow—
a child
?
Why a child
?

He reached out to feel for injuries, then when he saw the victim’s back, his hands froze in midmotion. There was a fist-sized hole in the kid’s coat, right between the shoulder blades.

Dan took in the dark stains soaking the jacket around the hole.

Blood.

This kid had been shot.

Dan stared down at the wound, utter disbelief wrestling with fury, as James Brumby’s voice drifted through his mind:
“I’m tellin’ you, Deputy. I see any of those kids on my property again, I’m gonna get my gun.”

“Brumby, you old fool.” Dan felt for a pulse in the neck, and for a moment he was back with Sarah, pressing his fingers to her neck. He pushed the memory away—along with the emotions it sent flooding through him. He couldn’t afford those emotions right now. He had to focus.

No pulse. The victim’s skin was like ice, and Dan knew that had nothing to do with the weather.

His fingers slid away.

Nothing he could do for this one. Best to move on, see who else was hurt. Pray someone was still alive.

He only walked a few more feet before finding a second victim lying sprawled on her back. This one was even younger than the first. A little girl, from the long brown hair spread across her face. Dan ground his teeth, dread a weight in his heart and mind.
Are they all children, God? All of them?

Dan knelt beside the still form. She had to be Shannon’s age, even had long chestnut hair like Shannon’s.
Jesus, Jesus … help this little one’s family …

He pressed his fingers to the death-cooled neck. Praying. Waiting …

Nothing.

Bitter defeat squeezed his eyes shut.
God, it’s not right! She’s so small
. He opened his eyes, saw the gunshot wound in her chest, reached gentle fingers to brush away the hair covering her still face.
So youn—

Air wedged in his throat. His mind saw. Grasped. But didn’t understand. Refused to understand.

It couldn’t be.

Fingers trembling, he touched her cheek, the fluorescent orange Band-Aid he’d put there just this morning.

No.

“I told you to stay home. I told you not to go out in this.” He took hold of the slim shoulders, shoulders that fit in his hands the way her mother’s always had. “God, please … not Shannon. Not my Shannon!”

But it was. His little girl, lying in the dirt, skin so white. So cold.

Understanding had fled at the first sight of her face; now it came surging back, raking every nerve. “
God
!”

He pulled her to him, willing the life to flow from his own heart into hers. “Shannon, please baby, please …”

But it was too late. He knew it, even as he cradled Shannon, her blood sticky on his hands.

How could this have happened? Agony sliced through his veins, turning his blood hot, boiling. Where was Aaron? He was supposed to watch his sister. They were supposed to stay together.

Dan went still.

They were supposed to stay together.

Oh, Jesus … no. You couldn’t. You couldn’t let that happen
.

Easing Shannon back to the ground, he made his clutching fingers release her, made his trembling, stiff legs stand and walk back to the first body. It still lay there, facedown.

No … no … no …

But as he studied the form in front of him, he saw. Saw the jacket Aaron had begged for week after week. The jacket his son had been so sure he couldn’t live without. The jacket Dan finally broke down and bought him as an early birthday present.

Aaron’s jacket, ravaged by the bullet that pierced and destroyed.

Aaron’s favorite shoes and the jeans Shannon patched for him using hot pink thread because she knew it would make him crazy—both splattered with blood.

A soundless scream clawed up his throat, pried his mouth open, and exploded into the suffocating mist.

Suddenly he was on his knees, doubled over, fingers digging into the hard, unyielding gravel, as his life slowly but oh-so-surely unraveled.

“Dan?”

He heard the voice but didn’t move. Couldn’t.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder. “Dan? C’mon, man. It’s Tony. I’m here with the squad.”

Dan’s eyes opened but only a slit. The ghostly glare of the flares and strobes he’d put out had been joined by brighter colors. The EMTs. The ambulance. They were here.

But it was too late.
Too late
.

The pressure on his shoulder increased. “C’mon, buddy. I know it’s bad, but we need you with us here. How many vics are there?”

How many? Dan shook his head. His whole world. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t—”

Dan surged to his feet and spun to face the man beside him. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Tony backpedaled. “Whoa, okay, man. Don’t freak on me.”

A shocked cry split the air, and Dan and Tony turned. Jack, another EMT, was kneeling beside Aaron’s body. Jack’s day job was as a coach. A football coach.

Aaron’s football coach.

His stricken gaze went from Aaron to Dan. “I’m sorry. Oh, man. I’m so sorry.”

“
What
is going on?” Tony took a step toward Jack, then jerked to a halt. Stared. Dan watched the tumble of emotions paint his friend’s features: astonishment, dawning understanding, horror.

Tony turned back to Dan, his gaze sliding past Dan to Shannon’s still form. When he met Dan’s eyes, Dan just stared.

“Who did this?”

Dan felt his hands clench. “Brumby. James Brumby.”

Tony looked around them. “Is he here somewhere?”

“I don’t know.” His tone hardened. “But I’m going to find out.”

A hand closed on Dan’s arm. “No, you’re not.”

He stared at the man holding him, rage burning in his throat as he growled out a warning. “Let me go, Jack. Now.”

The EMT squared off with Dan. “I’m sorry, but you’re in no shape to go after Brumby.”

Dan jerked his arm free. “You think I’m going to just let him go? After he did
this
?”

“He’s not going to get away. We’ll call Sheriff Grayson. Get him and some other deputies up here to go after Brumby. But you’re not going by yourself.”

“You think I can’t get past you, Jack?”

“I think you can’t get past us both.”

Dan looked at Tony, who now stood beside his partner.

“This is bad, Dan. But Jack’s right. You can’t be the one to take Brumby.”

He considered rushing them, knocking them both out of his way, forcing his way into Brumby’s house, wrapping his fingers around the man’s scrawny neck …

He closed his eyes. Nodded. “Call the sheriff.”

Dan turned and walked back toward the place where his children lay. The place where their lives had ended.

And his along with them.

S
HELBY WAS JUST LEAVING CHURCH WHEN SHE HEARD
her name being called.

She turned to find Jasmine standing there. “Hey, girlfriend. What are you—?” Her teasing smile faded when she saw the look on Jasmine’s face.

Something was very, very wrong.

Jasmine took her hand. “Shelby …” Jasmine’s voice broke.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Dan …”

Terror seized Shelby, and she thought her knees might give way. “Oh, Father, no! Is he?”

“No. No, I’m sorry. He’s fine.”

Shelby swatted Jasmine’s arm. “Don’t ever do that again! You scared the
life
out of me.”

Jasmine rubbed an unsteady hand over her eyes. “
He’s
fine,
Shelby. But Aaron. And Shannon. They’re dead. Shot. James Brumby killed them.”

The words struck her but didn’t connect. Hit but didn’t make sense. Shelby frowned, and the meaning of what Jasmine was saying squeezed past her denial.

Aaron and Shannon, the lights of Dan’s life, were dead.

Dear God in heaven
 … She put her hand against the side of the church, steadying herself.
Wasn’t it enough for him to lose Sarah? But the children? Lord, the
children?

How is he going to survive this?

Dan’s blood surged through his veins with such force it made his head ache.

Hurry up …

He stood next to the cruiser, watching the sheriff and his men move in on Brumby’s place. They called out. Announced their intent. When no response came, they broke down the door.

Dan watched the officers flow into Brumby’s house, every ounce of control focused on keeping him where he was—where the sheriff told him to stay or he’d get fired.

He wanted to be there. To hear for himself what had happened.

To look his children’s killer in the face.

Within minutes, several officers came out of the house. One signaled to Dan, and he broke into a run. But the deputy stopped Dan before he entered. “It’s empty.”

Dan’s gut twisted. “Empty?”

“No one’s in there. No humans. No dogs. Nothing. The guy rabbited. But don’t worry, Dan. He’s on the run with a bunch of dogs. We’ll catch him.”

Dan went inside, saw for himself that what his friend told him was true.

Brumby was gone.

There would be no arrest. No answers.

And no justice. Not for you. Not for your kids
.

The bitter words cut through Dan, and he turned, going back to his car. But before he reached it, Sheriff John Grayson was at his side.

“I’m gonna have Pete drive you home.”

Dan squared off with his boss. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. And I’m not letting you behind the wheel of a cruiser.” John nodded to a deputy standing nearby, then met Dan’s glare. “This isn’t a suggestion, Deputy. It’s an order.”

Dan spun, but John’s hand caught his arm. “We’ve notified your sisters, Dan. Annie’s at your house now. A friend of Kyla’s is flying her down from Portland. I just wanted you to know.”

He stared down at the ground, afraid if he looked at John, he’d lose it. “Thank you.”

John’s hand squeezed his arm then let go. Dan walked to the cruiser, slid in on the passenger side, and stared out the windshield. His gaze focused outside, and as realization assaulted him, he leaned forward, gripping the dashboard.

The fog was lifting.

He’d been so preoccupied he hadn’t noticed there was no longer anything blocking his sight. Blocking anyone’s sight.

God? You let it lift now?
His fingers dug into the dashboard.
Why didn’t You do that sooner? Why didn’t You let Brumby see who was out there?

“Dan?”

He spun and found himself facing Pete, one of the newer deputies, seated behind the steering wheel. Dan didn’t speak. Just sat there.

“Dan, you okay?” Pete glanced away. “Look, forget I said that. Stupid question.” He turned the key and the engine jumped to life.

Jumped to life …

Dan’s lip curled. Humorless laughter coursed through him. Everything was alive.

Everything but his wife. His children.

Pete’s discomfort was evident in his jerky actions, the glances he kept throwing at Dan. “Let’s get you home, buddy.”

Home. Dan sagged back against the seat.

What home?

No. Don’t. Don’t give in. Think. Focus:

On his sister. At least one, by now, if not both, were waiting for him.

On Pete and his driving. Clean. Crisp. Economy of movement.

On the sound of the tires on the road. Gravel crunching. Slight squeal as they turned onto the highway.

Focus. On anything and everything but the silent screaming filling his mind.

She couldn’t stop shaking.

Annie Justice sat at her brother’s kitchen table, sipping the cup of tea she just brewed. She stared at her hands, commanding them to be still. To stop trembling.

They wouldn’t listen.

Neither would the rest of her.

Because this can’t be real. Please, God … this just can’t be real
.

With an impatient huff of air, she pushed the mug away and stood. Quick steps took her through the spacious kitchen and out into the great room. Annie recalled the first time she’d seen this house. Dan had asked her and Kyla to take a look at it with him, to see if she thought the kids would like it.

The moment Annie saw the house, she knew it was perfect. Large and warm, just the right home for a new start. Even the ever-practical Kyla had fallen in love with the place.