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Rhett shone his flashlight in the man’s face. “Definitely not from around here,” Boone said.
“Never seen him either,” Rhett agreed.
Asher dropped to his knee, put on latex gloves, and then pressed his fingers against the man’s neck. He finally glanced up and shook his head, then reached into the man’s back pocket, taking out his wallet. “Maceo Vasiliev,” he said, examining the man’s identification.
Boone stared down at the man, then reached for his phone and dialed his father. “We’ve got him,” Boone said when Hank answered. “Contact the attorney general’s office.”
Hank paused. When he spoke again, his voice was tight. “You take the shot?”
“Yeah,” Boone replied, feeling slightly disconnected.
“All right, son,” Hank said with a slow exhale. “Kinsley and Peyton are shaken but fine—I’m with them now. Do what you’ve got to do. I’ll make the calls. Peyton won’t leave without seeing you.”
“I’ll be out in a few,” Boone said.
Heaviness filled Hank’s voice. “You all right?”
“Will be.” Boone ended the call after that, knowing he needed to get the coldness out of his veins before he saw Peyton. She needed him strong. And right now, a sense of disappointment flushed through him. He never wanted to take a life, even if he’d also do everything he could to protect her.
With a sigh, he tucked his phone back into his pocket, knowing any minute now the troops would swarm in and the investigation would get under way to prove the lethal force was justified. Boone touched the cut on his head from getting nailed in the head with a gun. Before the internal investigation took over Boone’s life, he said to Rhett and Asher, “How the hell did he get into the hospital?”
“A nurse found a doctor dead on the third floor,” Rhett explained. “That’s where I was coming from when I heard the shots and then saw Peyton running after you. It appears that he”—Rhett gestured at the dead man on the forest floor—“was already in the hospital and being stitched up before we arrived.”
“Fuck.” Boone shook his head. Had he not come back in time after getting coffee, tonight could have ended far differently. He didn’t even want to think about it. They’d taken every precaution to keep Peyton and Kinsley safe. The guy had just been smart. But not smart enough. “We need to find out who this guy is and what the hell he wanted with Peyton.”
Rhett frowned. “You think this doesn’t stop here?”
“That’s the thing.” Boone shrugged. “I don’t know.” And that’s the part that Boone didn’t like. He didn’t feel settled, and the fact that he was looking at the lifeless body of the man who tried to kill her and was still feeling uneasy told him something more was going on. “There needs to be a connection from him to Peyton, however small it may be, and we need to find out what this is before we can put this case to bed.”
“It could be as simple as a guy infatuated with her,” Rhett offered.
“Could be,” Boone agreed. “But I doubt it. The man came here, into a public place, to ensure he killed her. This isn’t some random guy finishing his sick killing spree. This was personal. He said to me, ‘She had to go, and you got in the way.’ What does that tell you?”
“That more is going on here,” Rhett agreed.
Asher watched Boone carefully, then gave a firm nod. “All right, Rhett and I will check him out and see what we find.” He showed him a keycard from a hotel in Whitby Falls. “We’ll see what’s there and if it leads anywhere.”
Sirens began cutting through the quiet forest, lights coming from the right, all red and blue. Boone looked back at the man who’d uprooted Peyton’s life and drew in a long, deep breath, inhaling the natural pine scents around him. Maybe he knew what she’d been through in Seattle. Maybe he didn’t. But in the end, Peyton was safer with him gone now. “Call if you find out anything.”
Rhett nodded, then turned to the rookie, Jamie, as she ran toward them. “You’ll need to drive Knight back to the station and begin an internal investigation.”
Her gaze slid to Boone as he flicked the safety on his gun and handed it to her. She accepted his weapon with wide eyes. “Sir?”
“It’s protocol, Sanchez,” Boone told her firmly. “My weapon will be part of the investigation.”
She nodded and then her gaze fell to the lifeless body on the ground before she strode in front of Boone, heading back toward the hospital. Boone followed, remembering being that young rookie. That felt like a lifetime ago. Damn, he was only thirty-three years old and he felt like he’d already lived a few lives.
He was tired. Damn tired of how he’d been living. That man lying dead on the forest floor had tried hard to erase a very important someone in his life, but he hadn’t. Another chance. That’s what he’d been given.
And this time, this fucking time, Boone wasn’t going to waste it. No more mistakes. No more fuck-ups.
When he approached the edge of the forest, he found a sea of lights flashing blue and red. He caught sight of Peyton standing with his father and Kinsley, her eyes trained on the trees around him. When he stepped clear of the forest, she charged forward and threw herself into his arms. He caught her, holding tight.
“Thank God,” she gasped, her arms squeezing his neck. She finally stepped back and glanced him over, stopping at his face. “You’re bleeding.” She reached up to inspect his wound.
“I’m fine.” His hands braced her face. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” she exclaimed. “I’m not thinking about me. I’m only thinking about you. He hurt you.”
