Living with the Dead Page 97


She couldn't regret her reaction, nor shake the feeling that it had, under the circumstances, been the right one.

For Detective Findlay, though, this was a job, and she didn't expect him to put himself on the line for Hope and Karl, no more than she expected him to let her – his suspect – do the same. An irreconcilable clash of priorities that had settled into an irreconcilable war of intractability.

Even when Detective Findlay had finally managed to call for backup, it had only seemed to blacken his mood more.

Apparently, he was stuck with a team from the sheriff's department, men he didn't know. He'd tried getting hold of a detective named Madoz, wanting him to be in on the takedown, and had been told he was on the way, but there was no sign of him yet.

She cleared her throat. "Detective Findlay – "

"You don't need to call me that."

"What's your name?"

He blinked, apparently having forgotten that somewhere between the gun showdown and the car chase, they'd failed to perform proper introductions.

"John," he said. "But everyone calls me Finn."

"Which do you prefer?"

He paused, as if it had been so long since anyone asked, he wasn't sure. "Finn's fine."

"Okay, so is the team ready to – "

A rap at the window. Finn lowered it. A beefy man leaned in too far, the invasion of space making the detective's shoulders square.

"Alvarez," the man said. "Just got here. My boys tell me you don't like my plan, Detective."

"I don't see any reason to put Ms. Peltier in further – "

"No danger, Detective. My boys are the best. I need her on-site to ID her friends, make sure we get them out."

"Out of what?"

"We don't know what we're facing in there. Our records show it's a multifamily residence. Some kind of commune, we think. We have to be prepared for the worst."

"Which is why Ms. Peltier shouldn't go in. I can ID her friends."

"We'd prefer her, for absolute confirmation."

"I want to speak to – "

"It's okay," Robyn said. "I'll go."

Finn didn't like that, lips tightening. Alvarez thumped the window sill and backed out. "All set then?"

He walked away without waiting for a response.

 

As they took up position in the woods surrounding the property, Finn only got moodier, snapping at the officers in a way that suggested he never snapped at anyone and didn't like hearing himself do it. But that didn't stop him either.

He seemed to be in communication with his spirit guide, but Robyn got the impression that at the moment, the ghost wasn't doing much guiding.

"I need you two over there." Alvarez pointed into the patch of woods bordering the property, then smacked binoculars into the detective's hand. "That's a safe distance. Have her pinpoint her friends and radio me with a full description of their location and apparel. Solheim here will go with you."

Alvarez marched off with his men, leaving an officer about Finn's age with a heavy brow and a heavier frown. He waved them into the forest and followed at their heels, rifle in hand. Every few seconds, Finn would glance back, as if being marched to a firing squad.

Robyn picked her way through the bush. When her feet got tangled, the detective pulled her up short and yanked wild grapevines from her ankles.

"Is this really necessary?" Finn said. "We can barely walk here."

"Cover," was all Solheim said.

When they were finally in deep enough, Solheim grunted for them to stop. Robyn could make out houses in the distance, and what looked like people moving between them, but it was so far away she doubted she would recognize Hope and Karl even with binoculars.

She glanced at Finn, who was squinting through them. She expected him to echo her thoughts, but instead he said,

"How do you adjust these?"

Solheim grunted again, a sigh whispering through it this time. He set his rifle down and took the binoculars. Finn stepped back, behind Solheim, giving him a better vantage point. Robyn squinted, straining to see Hope's denim jacket.

"See this dial?" Solheim lifted the binoculars to his eyes. "You need to – "

A crack. Robyn spun to see Solheim falling, Finn behind him, gun raised.

As she stared in shock, Finn knelt beside the officer's body. "Out cold. Good. Now help me pull him – "

"You – you just knocked out a cop."

"He's not a cop, Robyn. None of them are."

"What?"

The detective rose, pushing his gun back into his holster. "I have no idea what's going on here, but I don't know any of these men – "

 

"Because they're from the sheriff's office!"

"Who we've been working with on this case, and I don't recognize a single name. Madoz is a no-show. I can't get through to my station. My cell phone is blocked. And look around. What are we doing out here?"

"You wanted me to be safe. This is – "

"They're sidelining us. Getting me out of the way. You gave them full descriptions of Adams and Marsten, down to what they're wearing. Why do you need to do that again?"

"You called for backup. On your police radio. I saw you. You can't tell me – "

"Something happened."

She took a slow step back. "Oh, I know what happened. You called for backup, expecting to get men you know, men you could control. Hope was right. You do work for that company."

"What? No. I – "

Robyn turned and ran. She felt his fingers brush her back, then an "oomph" as he stumbled in the undergrowth.

"Robyn!"

She reached into her jacket pocket for the gun, but it snagged and refused to come out.

"Robyn, just stop and listen – "

She ran faster, ducking to avoid a low branch, then, at the last second, grabbing it, pulling it as she ran, letting go, hearing it whip back, Detective Findlay cursing as he tripped again, trying to avoid it.

"Rob – Bobby!"

Grapevines seemed to snake from the ground, wrapping around her feet and she stumbled, twisting, hands flying up to ward him off.

"What did you say?" Her jaw wouldn't unhinge enough to let the words out properly, her fury so hot she could feel it, see it, white sparks exploding before her eyes.

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