Page 34 of Danger In The Backcountry
Shawn heaved gasping breaths as he stood over her. “Why do you keep trying to leave me, Arlette? Haven’t I given you everything you need?” His voice dropped an octave as he straddled her hips. He batted her hands away at her attempt to crawl free then slid both hands around her neck. Dipping his mouth level with hers. “A roof over your head, a warm bed, land, food and protection. Everything I have was going to be yours, but you just keep disappointing me.”
She couldn’t stop her whimper as his weight crushed her into the floor, as his thumbs pressed into the soft tissues of her throat.
Pressure rose up in her chest. Stoppered by the grip around her throat. Lettie grabbed for his wrists, but it was no use. She slammed her palm into his forearm, a desperate signal for him to stop. But he ignored her.
“You could’ve been mine.” The man she’d known no longer existed. Replaced by the monster above her. “But I can see now, you’ll die as his.”
The front door burst open.
Shawn whipped his head toward the new threat. The man standing in the doorway. The grip around her neck faltered, and Lettie sucked in as much air as her lungs could hold.
“Get your hands off my wife.” Rome raised his rifle with his injured hand and pulled the trigger with the other as Shawn charged.
The gunshot exploded through the cabin and triggered a high-pitched ringing in Lettie’s ears. But missed. Wood exploded above her head and rained down a split second before Shawn tackled her husband.
Lettie flipped onto her stomach, still trying to catch her breath as each strike echoed through her. A weapon. She needed a weapon. To help.
Rome’s rifle swung wide as his attacker set about destroying her husband one punch at a time. Rome managed a strike to Shawn’s chest with his knee, tossing her intern straight into the bookcase of paperbacks she’d admired. Books tumbled off the shelves and hit the floor.
But her attention was on the knife Shawn had been using to chop vegetables. Left sitting on the kitchen counter. A wave of dizziness flooded through her as she struggled to her feet, eye on the prize.
“No!” Rome’s yell spun Lettie in place. To see Shawn lunging straight for her, a black military knife in hand.
Every cell in her body screamed for her to move.
Just as another gunshot discharged.
Blood spurted from Shawn’s chest across her face and clothing. His eyes dead set on her as he collapsed.
Her ears hadn’t stopped ringing. Her heart pumped too hard. She couldn’t get enough air as she stared at the unmoving man sprawled out across the floor.
It took what little sanity she had left to raise her gaze to Rome standing there with his rifle in both hands, the barrel wisping tendrils of smoke. The scent of gunpowder and copper burned down the back of her throat.
“Lettie.” His voice cut through the shock holding her hostage. Rome moved to close the distance between them, but his boots on the hardwood sounded too loud in her head, and she flinched. Pain resonated in his expression. Regret and rejection and concern. But he didn’t move closer. Why wasn’t he moving closer? Why wasn’t he holding her?
Voices shouted through the open front door. Officers poured into the cabin, all taking aim. At her husband. Setting the rifle down, Rome lowered to his knees, his eyes solely on her. “It’s over, sweet one. It’s over.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It felt good to get the handcuffs off.
Rubbing at the sensitive skin around his wrists, Rome met the desk sergeant to collect his personal items. His rifle would stay a few more days in processing while the investigation wrapped up, but the initial murder charges had been dropped thanks to the officer who’d helped him locate any other properties belonging to Shawn. The fact the man seemed to suffer from kleptomania would stay a secret between them.
“Foster, Rome.” The desk sergeant tipped a manila envelope upside down, scattering Rome’s personal items. “Keys, wallet and a gold wedding ring. Sign at the bottom.”
Scribbling his signature at the bottom of the envelope, he pocketed his wallet and the keys. He had no idea where the truck had been taken. Most likely to impound once the law enforcement rangers and police were finished with the scene at the cabin. Springdale PD had made quick work of putting the pieces together as they’d searched and catalogued the cabin. Shawn Bowman—thirty-five years old, single, wanted for questioning in the disappearance of three women in three separate states—had covered his tracks well enough to avoid raising any red flags with the NPS, but it would take a few more weeks to wrap up this investigation tight. Not to mention the others still open in those jurisdictions. As for the wedding ring, Rome couldn’t bear to slip it back onto his ring finger where it’d been all these months.
Hell, he didn’t even know if Lettie wanted to see him. She’d flinched. Back in the cabin, after he’d shot a hole through Shawn’s chest before he could get to her with that knife, she’d flinched away from him. Rome pressed his thumb into the scratched and dented metal, following the curve of the ring. Despite the beating it’d taken over the years, the inscription inside was still clear as the day Lettie had slipped it onto his hand. Always.
Didn’t seem like that would be the case. He was a killer, through and through. No matter how many times he tried to deny it, circumstances had made him squeeze that trigger. First, for himself. Then for Lettie. And he would do it again and again. However many times it would take to protect her. But maybe this time, he’d finally managed to put the final nail in the coffin that’d become his marriage.
Rome tapped the surface of the desk with his knuckles. “Thank you.”
“Heard what you did, putting a hole through a man who killed those four victims.” The elderly desk sergeant went about writing whatever notes were required on the envelope that’d held Rome’s entire life. “You did the right thing.”
Had he? Didn’t feel like it, but it hadn’t felt like the right thing to rid the world of his uncle’s dominance either. After a while, he’d learned to live with it. Then again, he’d done the right thing by Sam, making sure he stayed alive long enough for the vet to reach them. Lettie would’ve wanted that. The black bear would recover and be set back into the wild just in time to hibernate for the long, cold months ahead. Rome didn’t have an answer, hugging his injured arm closer to his chest as he headed for the glass double doors of Springdale PD’s station.
Sunlight blinded him as he shoved through the doors.
