Читать книгу Storm Force - Meredith Fletcher - Страница 9

Kate paused beside the bus, breathing hard. Slow down, she told herself. The men inside this bus have been convicted of armed robbery, drugs, murder and rape. You can’t just charge in there. But what about the guards? She sighed. She couldn’t let anyone burn to death.

During her guide experience—with her dad and on her own—she’d had several close calls. Snake bites and other injuries to clients as well as herself topped the list. And she’d ended up being the medic for her dad and her siblings when they’d gotten hurt. Taking care of people was just second nature to her.

She studied the bus, wondering how best to handle the situation. No matter what she did, there was some risk. At least it didn’t look as if it was going to catch on fire and burn again.

“Is the bus gonna explode?” someone yelled from inside.

“Man, why didn’t those guys cut us loose while they were at it?” someone else griped.

“Can anyone reach the driver? He’s got a set of keys on him.”

“Dude,” someone else said, “I think that guy Jolly or one of his cabrons took the key ring.”

Kate jumped up and caught hold of the edge of the bus, then hauled herself up. The men inside the bus saw her through the windows and started screaming for help, wanting to know if the bus was on fire. They beat on the windows with their free hands, the other hands manacled to the D-rings in the floor. Several of the prisoners yelled at her, urging her to get inside and set them free. Some of the comments bordered on suggestive. Kate ignored it all, hoping she wasn’t going to find the guards dead.

The driver’s window was open. Kate looked inside and saw the uniformed guard lying spread-eagled across the bus doors that were now flat to the street and unable to be opened. The guy was in his fifties, heavy-set and balding. She couldn’t help thinking he was somebody’s husband, somebody’s father, maybe even somebody’s grandfather. But she had no idea how she was going to get him out of the bus if it caught on fire again.

Holding on to the edges of the window, Kate let herself down into the bus. She knelt beside the fallen guard. Blood covered his face, still leaking from a deep laceration on his forehead. Bleeding’s good, she told herself. Bleeding means the heart’s beating. He’s alive. But he had to stop bleeding to stay that way.

The wound wasn’t going to stop bleeding on its own. It was too wide, too deep. Judging from the look on his head, he’d have a concussion at least, but something short of a skull fracture, she hoped.

“Hey!” one of the orange-jumpsuited prisoners called out. “Hey, chica! Get his keys! Get us out of here before we burn up!”

Several other prisoners echoed the demand/plea. A few of them were crying or praying.

“You’re not going to burn up,” Kate stated. She reached under the dash and freed the large first-aid kit secured there. Sorting through the supplies, she found a gauze pad and a roll of adhesive tape. She pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and cradled the guard’s head in her lap. Working quickly and from experience, she wrapped the wound, fashioning a turban that would compress the laceration and help aid the clotting to stop the bleeding.

“Damn you, woman!” someone swore. “You can’t just leave us in here to die!”

Kate didn’t take the verbal abuse personally. Being a single woman in what was essentially a man’s profession drew a lot of ire and harsh speculation as to why she did what she did. A lot of men felt threatened. None of them seemed to understand or accept that she just loved being part of the world her father had introduced her to. There was a real freedom in being a guide, in staying out in the wilderness where she wasn’t under someone’s constant scrutiny.

“You’re not going to die,” Kate said, not looking at them. They were captives, chained to the D-rings mounted in the floor. Most of them had to stand now, or sit on the opposite seats because they were at the end of their chains.

“This frickin’ bus is on fire, lady,” someone snarled. “Look at all the smoke.”

“Was on fire,” Kate said calmly. “I put it out before your buddies stole my vehicle.”

“Jolly ain’t no buddy of mine,” someone said. “That bastard had this whole thing wired, this escape an’ all. Blew up the bus. An’ he didn’t invite nobody else in on it.”

Kate let that pass without comment. The prison pecking order wasn’t her concern. Finished with the wounded guard, satisfied that she’d done all she could do under the circumstances, she turned her attention to the second guard.

He was younger, probably twenty-four or twenty-five. He was slim and good-looking. Or at least he would have been if it hadn’t been for the massive swelling on the side of his face. Somebody had hit him really hard.

Reaching into the first-aid kit, ignoring the continued caterwauling of the prisoners, Kate took out an ammonia capsule and snapped it under the younger guard’s nose. The acrid stink caused Kate to choke and cough, but it woke the guard.

He came around fast, jerking his head to get away from the ammonia. He cursed and reached for his pistol but found only an empty holster. His eyes were wide and frightened as he looked up at her.

Kate looked at his prison ID, noting the picture and the name. If something had been planted on the bus to cause the tire to blow it, it could have been an inside job. Just because the guy was wearing a prison guard uniform didn’t mean he was a good guy.

“Bill,” Kate said in a neutral voice. “Bill Maddox. Can you hear me?”

“Huh?” Maddox blinked at her. Awareness gradually seeped into his eyes. He touched the side of his face. “Damn but that guy can hit.”

Kate held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Maddox looked and blinked. “Two.”

She smiled at him, feeling some of the control returning to the situation. “Good. You’ve been in an accident, but you’re going to be fine. Do you know what happened?”

“Yeah. Something on the side of the bus blew up. Pete lost control and we flipped. By the time I recovered, Shane Warren was out of his seat, off the chain and through that security door. He hit me before I could pull my weapon.” Bill shook his head slowly. “I’ve never seen somebody move that fast in my life.”

“Can you sit up?”

He managed it with help and Kate left him propped against the top of the bus.

“I’ve got to try to get help,” Kate said. “Your friend needs someone to look after him.”

“Where’s Pete?”

Kate pointed at the older guard crumpled against the doors.

Maddox started to get up, then his legs turned rubbery and he sat back down hard again. The prisoners jeered at him, making fun of his inability to stand.

“Easy,” Kate said, looking him in the eye. That was important to a shock victim, she knew. The victim had to feel that he could take care of himself. “You’re probably a little lightheaded right now. After everything you’ve been through, that’s to be expected. Just go slow and you’re going to be fine.”

Leaning back, Maddox started taking deep breaths.

“Breathe slowly,” Kate made herself say calmly. She knew she sounded much more calm than she felt. She’d practiced sounding that way during stressful situations. She demonstrated till he started breathing that way too. “You breathe fast like that you’re going to get your blood too oxygenated, you’ll hyperventilate and you could pass out. That won’t help Pete.” Give him someone else to take care of, she thought. That way he’ll stop worrying about himself so much.

“Okay,” he said. “Thanks. Are you a nurse?”

Kate checked an immediate impulse to ask him why he thought she couldn’t be a doctor. She made herself smile reassuringly. “No. But I’ve done a lot of first aid.”

“How did you get here?”

“I saw the accident happen. Thought I’d stop by and lend a hand. Unfortunately, some of the prisoners managed to escape and stole my Jeep.”

Maddox looked into the back of the bus. “Who?”

“Somebody named Jolly. Another guy named Shane.”

Maddox cursed.

“There were four other guys,” Kate said, “but I didn’t get their names.”

Looking back through the prisoners, Maddox said, “Phil Lewis, Monte Carter, Deke Hannibal and Ernie Franks. They were the ones that helped Raymond Jolly pull the Desiree Martini kidnapping.”

That rang bells. Desiree Martini had been the twentysomething heiress of Gabriel Martini, the international shipping magnate who operated out of Miami-Dade. The kidnapping had taken place a few months ago. The last Kate had heard, law-enforcement officials had “feared the worst” and the ransom money hadn’t yet been recovered. Jolly had stashed it someplace before the FBI had apprehended him.

“We need to call 911,” Kate said. “Let them know we’re out here.”

“Sure.” Maddox pulled his cell phone from the holster on his belt. He checked it, shook his head and immediately regretted that. “No signal.”

“It happens down here in the low areas,” Kate said. “Let me borrow it and I’ll hike up on one of the hills. See if I can get a signal there.”

“I can do it.” Maddox tried to get up again but couldn’t manage it. Ruefully, he handed Kate the phone. “I’ll just stay here and take care of Pete.”

“You do that,” Kate said.

“What should I look out for?”

Kate stood and shoved the phone into her pocket. “Keep his head elevated. That’ll relieve some of the pressure and naturally help slow the bleeding. If he throws up, don’t let him breathe it in. Turn his head and get it out.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Should be cake.”

“Cake,” Maddox echoed doubtfully.

“I’ll be right back as soon as I get through to someone.” Kate climbed up and caught hold of the window. She heaved herself out and dropped over the side of the bus. She forced herself to jog, not run, not allowing herself to give in to the panic that throbbed inside her.

She had to run a quarter-mile to reach a rise. Even then she only had one signal bar showing. But when she punched 911, she got right through. As she explained the situation—giving her location and knowing the phone GPS coordinates would back her up—she looked back at the overturned bus. A thin trickle of black smoke continued to pour from the engine compartment. The quiet of the Everglades made everything she saw feel surreal.

She couldn’t help wondering where Raymond Jolly and his cohorts had gotten off to in her truck.

“Hell of a mess you got yourself involved in, Kate.”

Standing to one side of the accident site, Kate watched Sheriff Harvey Bannock walking over to her. “Didn’t exactly have this on my schedule either, Sheriff.”

Bannock smiled and wiped the back of his wattled neck with a handkerchief. “Damn, but it’s humid.” He looked to the south where the ocean lay only a few miles away. “Supposed to be blowing up a storm out there that’ll be on us soon. They’re calling it Genevieve.”

“That’s what Dad said.”

“How come the bad ones always get those sexy names?”

Kate shook her head and watched as the prisoners were led from the overturned bus into another one under the close supervision of shotgun-toting prison guards. Several of the prisoners had complained of medical problems, insisting they needed to be taken to a hospital and not back to the prison. Besides the prison bus, there were several sheriff’s deputies, paramedics and a few of the local reporters. Miami had even sent a news helicopter.

Bannock was a thickset man who’d been sheriff in the county for twenty-five years. His florid face came from too much drinking, but he ran a tight ship. His iron-gray hair was neatly clipped and he wore a jacket over a Colt .45 he’d carried as an officer during his tours through Vietnam. He looked like somebody’s grandfather with his jeans and cowboy boots, but the mirror sunglasses and no-nonsense attitude were all cop.

He was also a good friend to her and her dad. He threw a lot of out-of-town business her way with recommendations and business connections he had. Sometimes Kate thought it was because he felt sorry for her, but Bannock always insisted it was because he could trust her to treat people right and not overcharge them or allow them to poach or indiscriminately kill.

That reminded her of the Mathis party Tyler Jordan had called about.

“You okay?” Bannock asked.

“I’m fine,” Kate said.

“You look a little jacked.”

“Maybe a little,” Kate admitted.

“Prison guard Bill Maddox said you took care of everything inside the bus.”

“Is the other guard going to be okay?”

“The EMTs had him talking. They tell me he’s going to be fine. Part of that’s because you bandaged him up. A few stitches, a stay at the hospital tonight for observation, he’ll be home this time tomorrow.”

Kate glanced at her watch. So far she’d been at the site for almost two hours. She still had Mathis to deal with, and guessed that Tyler Jordan was probably beside himself right now. He might even be prompted to quit. She sighed. All she needed was to be left shorthanded with Steven and Hannah coming so unexpectedly.

“Problems?” Bannock asked.

“I have a client who’s turned the site I put him on into his own private shooting gallery. Tyler called me this morning. I was on my way out there when this happened.”

“I’ll send a deputy around when I can. Where’s the site?”

Kate told him.

“Don’t know how soon I can get a man there,” Bannock said. “We’re battening down the city, getting ready for this thing. But I’ll have him there as soon as I can.”

“I appreciate it.” Kate was antsy, feeling the need to go burning through her.

Bannock wiped his sweating face. “I’m gonna cut you loose, Kate. Ain’t no reason for you to hang around here. If I have any more questions, I’ll give you a call or come by.”

“Thanks, but since they took my Jeep, leaving’s not exactly an option.”

“There might be a way,” Bannock said. “Clyde Burris wants an exclusive interview with you.”

Clyde Burris worked for one of the weekly newspapers out of Everglades City. Kate bought advertising space from him and sometimes allowed him to do interviews with out-of-state clients who wanted a little extra publicity before they returned home.

“I really don’t like the idea of talking to the news,” Kate said.

“That’s the good part,” Bannock said. “It ain’t the news. It’s Clyde. And when other media agencies call you, and I guarantee they will because the story’s a good one—‘Local Woman Hero,’ Raymond Jolly, and the unsolved nature of the Desiree Martini kidnapping—you’ll be able to tell them that you’ve granted an exclusive to Clyde.” He paused. “That’s guaranteed to get him picked up on every stringing service across the nation.”

Kate didn’t doubt that. As she recalled, the Desiree Martini kidnapping had been huge news a few months ago.

“How’s that going to help me get to my site?” Kate asked.

Bannock sighed. “I have to do the math for you too? And here I was believing your daddy when he said he raised a bright girl.”

Not too bright, Kate thought sourly. I married Bryce Colbert and didn’t see him for the louse that he is.

“Just tell Clyde you’re willing to do the interview in the car on the way to your site. He’s taken all the pictures of a wrecked bus that he can publish. What he needs is a bigger story. Something with a little more homegrown flavor, and a personal look at the ‘hero’ of this little shindig. And Tyler Jordan’s driving one of your trucks, isn’t he?”

Kate nodded.

The sheriff spread his hands and smiled. “There you go. You can drop Tyler off at home and keep the truck so you can pick up your kids at the airport. I’ve even provided you transportation. Problem solved.”

Kate had to admit that the arrangement would work out fine. She wasn’t even surprised that Bannock knew she was picking up Steven and Hannah. It was a small community, and Bannock kept a close watch on things.

She took a deep breath. “Let me know when you find my Jeep?” It was a point of pride more than anything. She didn’t want Jolly and Shane to get away scot-free.

“You bet. I’m going to have to keep it in impound for a few days. It’s evidence now.”

“Sure.” Kate thanked him again, then walked over to Clyde Burris and laid out the deal. The reporter quickly agreed and guided her to his car, changing tapes in his microcassette recorder as they walked.

By the time she reached the site, Kate felt all talked out. Clyde, slim and nervous and a chain-smoker, had kept at her the entire trip, somehow managing to change radio channels and keep up with all the local breaking news at the same time.

There was a lot of speculation about what had caused the bus to wreck, from an organized prison breakout all the way to a terrorist attack.

Clyde had kept returning to that too, but Kate hadn’t been able to tell him any more than she already had. She’d been curious about the blond man with Jolly, though. According to Clyde’s sources, Shane Warren was pulling a thirty-year shot on a drug charge and second-degree-murder rap. Supposedly the Atlanta district attorney was even looking at him for killing an undercover narcotics agent.

“Not a good guy,” Clyde had summed him up. But the reporter had been curious as to why Shane Warren had ended up with Raymond Jolly.

When they arrived at the site, Kate thanked the reporter for the ride and got out looking for Tyler. The young man was sitting sullenly in the guide truck listening to a Toby Keith CD. His auburn hair hung down to his shoulders. Aviator sunglasses covered his eyes. His skin stayed red all the time and was covered with freckles. At eighteen, he was short and skinny like his father, but still in possession of out-of-control hormones and way too much male attitude.

“I’d about given up on you,” Tyler said. His stained straw cowboy hat was more crumpled than creased, and had bright-blue peacock feathers jutting from it. His black T-shirt was festooned with marijuana leaves. Not exactly the kind of message Kate wanted to send out to clients. She could imagine the T-shirt showing up in pictures people showed their friends and family back home.

“Where’s Mathis?” Kate asked, walking by him. She checked her watch. Damn, but the time was getting away from her. She was going to have to hurry if she was going to pick up Steven and Hannah on time.

“The cabin. Got back about twenty minutes ago and started drinking. Him and his buddies.” Tyler uncoiled from the four-wheel-drive pickup and got out.

“Bring the video camera.”

Remaining sullen, Tyler asked, “Why?”

“Just do it,” Kate commanded.

Tyler cursed. For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to do what she said. Then he reached into the truck to get a compact video camera. He reluctantly followed her.

Kate held a stun baton in one hand. So far, Tyler hadn’t seen it. The weapon was one Kate had learned to use out in the bush. It was an Asp Electroless Tactical Baton specially made for a humid environment like southern Florida. When closed, it measured only nine and a half inches, but the release button expanded it to twenty-six inches of carbon steel guaranteed to stand up under repeated impacts. The weapon only weighed a pound and a half.

Her father had introduced them to her when she’d been fifteen, and even made her take courses with it at a martial arts dojo till she knew what she was doing. You’re a woman, baby girl, her dad had said, and you’re workin’ in a man’s world. Some of them guys you take on are gonna show a mean side ever’ now an’ again. No matter that you can scuffle an’ fight, you’re likely gonna be givin’ away a hundred pounds or more an’ maybe a few inches of reach. It’d be stupid for you to work in them conditions an’ not be able to properly take care of yourself.

Over the years, Kate had worn the weapon out in the bush. She’d used it more on snakes, wild pigs and alligators than men. But she’d used it on men before too. It usually shortened the fight any belligerent drunk might want to provoke to a matter of seconds, with no one getting seriously hurt.

“Did you take video of Mathis shooting the wildlife?” Kate asked. That was why they kept the camera. Sometimes as an added feature to the hunt, and sometimes to shoot evidence of poachers.

“Yep. Lotsa footage.” Tyler shook his head. “Dumbass. He wants a copy. Even paid me in advance.”

Kate breathed out in an effort to stay calm. Guys like Darrel Mathis just didn’t understand that shooting video of what they were doing was for a court case, not a vanity recording they could show their friends later.

“We booked five buddies,” Kate said. “How many are still with him?”

“Three.”

“What condition?”

“About as drunk as Mathis.”

“Any idea what set him off?”

“They’ve been drinking since last night,” Tyler said. “I don’t think they’ve come up for air or been to bed.” He was silent for a moment. “What are you going to do?”

“Ask them to leave.”

“Great.” Tyler snorted. “I’m sure they’ll just pack right up and go. Is the sheriff sendin’ somebody around?”

“They’re tied up with the escaping convicts.”

“Goin’ up there is stupid. He’s just gonna laugh in your face.”

“Just make sure you keep the camera on.” Kate willed herself to go cold inside. Sometimes a paying customer went willingly, maybe feeling remorseful about what they’d done, and sometimes they were so drunk they were easy to handle. And sometimes Sheriff Bannock had a deputy that could stop by when Kate pressed charges and produced a digital recording.

The camp was a neat, compact affair, one of the permanent sites she maintained under contract with the landowner. Keeping the guests from shooting up the wildlife—and sometimes the landowner’s livestock—fell under Kate’s purview.

There was a single log cabin with three small bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and two bathrooms with shower facilities. An outside patio provided a brick grill and oven so any game taken could be cooked and prepared fresh instead of packed away and frozen for transport back home.

All of it sat in a hammock of broad-leafed oak trees that looked alien against the backdrop of the cypress trees that were generally the norm this far south in Florida. Most of the hardwood trees never ventured into the wetter climates near the coastal areas.

Shade covered the gleaming SUVs and luxury cars parked under the carport. Any one of them would have cost more than what Kate made in a calendar year as a guide, but she didn’t owe for anything. After her divorce from Bryce, she’d been very careful with her money, saving as much as she could before giving it to attorneys to fight the impossible fight for more time with her children.

Kate didn’t resent her moneyed clients the income they had, but it did remind her of Bryce and the fact that she’d never be able to match what Bryce was able to give Steven and Hannah on what she was doing now. But there was something to be said for being free.

She’d built her cabin in the off-season, after securing the lease. She’d felled the timber, cleaned it up and negotiated furnishings, plumbing and kitchen appliances from building contractors she worked with when hunting and fishing was slow. She’d taken pride in her work. And in the fact that her dad had helped her put it together these past few years.

She only had three sites with permanent housing. The rest were campsites. Permanent housing was a plus. The clients didn’t have to drive in every day from Everglades City or one of the outlying areas, and they didn’t have to rough it in a tent. Being able to get drunk, bring women out or watch satellite television if the hunting trip turned into a lazy vacation made the difference to a lot of clients.

At the door, Kate hooked the Asp to her belt, took a deep breath, then knocked.

“Who is it?” a male voice demanded.

“Kate Garrett, Dr. Mathis,” Kate said.

When dealing with clients, her dad had taught her always to refer to them as Mr. or Mrs. or, in this case, doctor.

“We’re fine, sweetheart,” Mathis said. “Don’t need anything. But I appreciate you stopping by.”

“We need to talk, sir.” The “sir” part sometimes came hard, like it did in this case, when a client turned out to be a trigger-happy fool.

The door opened. Darrel Mathis glared down at her. He was a big man, six feet four inches tall, a lot of it running to fat. His jet-black hair and goatee came out of a bottle, as evidenced by the untreated three-days’ growth of ash-gray whiskers on his cheeks. He wore camouflage pants spotted with blood and a black T-shirt.

“That sounded awfully official,” Mathis said.

“Yes, sir,” Kate agreed. “I’m afraid it was. I’m here to ask you and your friends to leave.”

Mathis looked at her for a moment, then he grinned and stepped back into the cabin. Behind him, three men in varying degrees of sobriety sat at a card table. Clothes lay scattered everywhere, as well as rifles and bows. A porno movie played on the wide-screen television to their left. The dramatic groans of the stars filled the silence in the cabin.

No one made a move to switch off the television.

Kate got the feeling that she’d walked into an NRA frat party.

“Our guide,” Mathis said drunkenly, gesturing to Kate. “Says she’s here to throw us out.”

The three men sat there, obviously not knowing what to do.

Then Mathis started laughing, and the other three joined him. Turning back to Kate, Mathis said, “This is Friday, sweet cheeks. I’m paid through till Sunday. Come back and throw me out then.” He gestured at the cabin. “I’ll probably be ready then. I have to tell you, the atmosphere isn’t exactly what I’d thought it would be.”

He said that with air-conditioning pouring into Kate’s face. She’d worked hard to get air-conditioning to the cabin, had to pull extra shifts at the construction work to afford the units and the gasoline-powered generators to run them.

Mathis tried to close the door.

Kate shoved her foot into it before the door met the jamb. The hiking boots protected her feet from a lot, including weather and impact. She didn’t even feel the door close on it.

“Dr. Mathis,” she stated firmly, “you’re leaving. Now.”

Mathis got red in the face and cursed, not nearly as inventively as Kate thought a medical school graduate should be able to. She stood before him and didn’t react, didn’t let any of it touch her. The last time she’d let herself be hurt by anything a man said had been in divorce court, when Bryce had accused her of being unfaithful in their marriage and had got several of his friends on the stand to swear to the affairs they’d had with her.

None of it had been true. But the judge had believed it. Or maybe he was paid to believe it.

“Get your foot out of the door,” Mathis said.

“No, sir,” Kate said.

“And you, you little pipsqueak!” Mathis roared, throwing a big finger at Tyler. “What are you doing with that camera?”

“Figured they might have an anesthesiologists’ convention sometime in the near future,” Tyler said. “Thought maybe I could send them footage of you blowin’ up Little Bunny Foofoo with a thirty-ought-six. I’m bettin’ they’ll find it real entertainin’.”

Kate really didn’t want Tyler baiting Mathis, but she knew she couldn’t divide her attention.

“Shut that camera off!” Mathis yelled. “Or I’m going to come out there and beat you to a pulp!”

“An’ that’s assault,” Tyler added in that smartass tone he had down so cold. “My, my. Your legal difficulties do continue to multiply.”

“Dr. Mathis,” Kate said calmly, “we can do this with the sheriff’s office in attendance, or we can do it without them. I’m amenable to doing it without them because they could want to arrest you.”

Mathis cursed, then he reached out, obviously intending to grab Kate by the face and shove her back from the door. Kate grabbed Mathis’s wrist and yanked, swiveling her hip to put her weight into the effort and pull the man out into the yard. She stuck her foot out in front of him and tripped him.

Caught off-balance, Mathis fell, landing hard on the ground and rolling. “Now you’ve done it, bitch!” He pushed himself to his feet and doubled his big hands into fists. “I tried to be nice to you, but you wouldn’t have it that way. Hell no. You want to be some tightass ice princess? Well, now we’ll see who’s laughing. I didn’t come out here to get made fun of by some backwoods hillbilly.”

He came at her swinging. There was no finesse to his effort. He was just brute strength focused on hate and powered by rage.

“Dr. Mathis,” Kate said, putting her right hand on the Asp at her hip, “I’m asking you to cease and desist. Before someone gets hurt.”

“You’re the only one who’s going to get hurt.”

Kate knew there was no use talking to him. Either Mathis was too drunk or too full of himself to listen. She took two steps back, dodging punches at her head.

“Dr. Mathis,” she said, “this is your final warning.”

“I’ll give you a final warning!” he roared, punching again.

Pulling the Asp from her hip holster, Kate pressed the stud and extended it to the full twenty-six inches. She kept it hidden by her leg. When Mathis reached for her again, still roaring with rage, she whipped the Asp around and hit him in the elbow, not enough to break anything, but enough to numb the limb. She darted to the side and hit him again, this time in the right calf, temporarily crippling him. Still moving, she walked behind him and hit him in his left thigh, numbing that leg as well.

Mathis fell.

Kate wasn’t even breathing hard. She left Mathis lying on the ground, cursing and moaning in pain. Inside the house, worried that one of the doctor’s buddies would try for a rifle and throw the whole situation ballistic, she looked at the men.

They stood staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment. Even Tyler looked astonished, but he kept the video rolling.

“You can’t do that,” one of Mathis’s buddies said.

“It’s done,” Kate said. “It’s over. Grab your belongings and get out.” She walked back out of the cabin on trembling legs. Don’t throw up, she told herself.

“You know,” Tyler was saying to Mathis, “I take a lot of crap about workin’ for a woman. Ever’day, it seems like somebody’s got some smartass thing to say about it. In fact, as I recall, you seemed to have taken some shots at me over it this mornin’, while you were out there shootin’ holes in deer an’ birds an’ anything you spotted. But you know, workin’ for a woman just kind of takes on a whole new complexion when you see her kick somebody’s ass. I mean, who’d expect it?” He grinned. “I didn’t. I know you didn’t. I can tell by that bug-eyed look of surprise on your pasty face. As you can see, I just kind of developed a whole new appreciation for my boss.” He looked over at Kate. “Want me to call the sheriff’s office now?”

Kate nodded, afraid to talk because she didn’t trust her voice and didn’t want to sound confused or mad or scared. Actually, she was all of those things. She glanced at her watch. More than that, she was definitely going to be late picking up Steven and Hannah now.