Page 183 of Running to You

It’d taken everything in Sam not to look her direction and give her away.

Keller was just about to pull the trigger. Sam would’ve pulled his own gun and gotten off a shot, but Eliza was in front of him. He’d fully expected to die in that moment. His only regret, that he hadn’t stalled longer and given the police more time to show up.

“Why did it take so long for you guys to get there?” he asked now.

“That store is a good distance from the camp,” the detective said. “Not as the crow flies, but the roads go around the mountain, not over it. All our manpower was at the camp.”

That made sense.

“So Keller’s wife was creeping close…?” she prompted.

“She just…barreled into him.”

Sam would probably replay that moment in his nightmares for years.

Keller firing, his shot going wide. He’d managed to keep his feet and not lose his grip on the gun, but he’d let go of Eliza. She fell away.

Keller pushed his wife off himself and swung the gun toward her.

But Sam fired first.

“You’re saying the wife helped you?”

“Surprised me too.” Lola Keller had saved their lives. And then Sam had saved hers.

“Any idea why?”

“Maybe she realized what he’d done, trying to kill all those women and children. Maybe she realized he was insane. Or… Eliza had lived in a house right next to them for years. She worked closely with Lola. They were friends. Maybe she just wanted to save her friend.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” The detective asked a lot more questions, and sometimes the same questions in various ways. Apparently, Sam managed to answer them to her satisfaction because she finally pushed back in her chair. “We’re done for now, but you’re not off the hook.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you guys shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You should’ve called us the minute you knew something was wrong, not gone all SEAL Team Six.”

Sam wasn’t sure what their story was, so he kept his mouth shut, following the detective out the door.

He was ready to find Eliza, but in the corridor just down from the conference room, he spied Grant and Jon having a spirited conversation with an older cop who, judging by the way he carried himself, had some authority.

The detective who’d just questioned Sam turned to him, sardonic smile in place. “Good luck with that. The chief’s fit to be tied.” She headed the other direction, but Sam walked toward his brother.

“You should know better.” The chief jabbed Grant in the chest. “You’re a cop. Or you were. I’ll have your badge. If it’s up to me, you’ll end up in jail for this.”

Grant didn’t say a word.

“Sir, I suggest you step back.” Jon’s voice was low, but he didn’t need to shout for the strength in his voice to be heard.

The man blinked, then took a good look at Grant’s face, then Jon’s.

And took a step away.

“We called it in as soon as we knew what was going on,” Jon said. “You would have had us wait outside? Let all those people burn to death?”

“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” the older man said. “This isn’t a war zone. And don’t tell me you showed up with eight men armed to the teeth but you weren’t planning something.”

“Our plan was to save lives,” Jon said. “And we didn’t lose a single innocent. A couple of Keller’s men were killed, but that couldn’t be helped.”

“You don’t just give a bunch of overgrown boys guns and call them soldiers.”