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Josie jumped out of her car and ran toward the edge of the water. Another set of headlights strobed past, and she caught a glimpse of the back of Jasmine Toselli’s head, swinging gently. Then she saw Sam Toselli’s tiny face. His hair hung down. His lips were turning blue. Raffy had wrapped them each in a plastic tarp, duct-taping their bodies inside of it. Both their feet had been bundled and secured with what looked like a seatbelt. Could that be right?
Sickness rolled through her. The webbing in the patterned injuries on Eve Bowers’s and Trudy Dawson’s necks. Now this. Brooke had been stuck inside her upside-down vehicle while it sank lower and lower into the creek water because her seatbelt malfunctioned. Raffy couldn’t recreate the tragedy with a vehicle, but he had cut seatbelts out of cars—maybe even the car Brooke had had her accident in—and tied them together to fashion these death ropes.
From somewhere above them, a man shouted for help. His cries were quickly cut off.
Noah, Gretchen, and Mettner appeared beside Josie.
“Jesus,” Mettner breathed. “This guy is crazier than we thought.”
Josie said, “We need a team down here in case he decides to drop them into the water. We’ll probably need someone downstream too. If he cuts them loose, they’ll fall head first. We won’t have much time before they drown—if they don’t break their necks. The current is moving fast. Someone should be downstream to catch them in the event whoever is positioned here doesn’t catch them.”
Gretchen said, “The fastwater rescue team will never get here in time.”
Josie turned and motioned toward the vehicles. “They’ve all got ropes inside them. Start tying them together. Anchor rope to the base of that tree—” She pointed to a large oak a few feet away. “And that one down there. Then tie it to whoever’s going in the water. The trick will be catching them when they fall. People on the shore will be responsible for pulling you in.”
Mettner said, “Good idea, boss.” He tapped Gretchen’s shoulder. “You a good swimmer?”
Noah said, “Not as strong as me. Gretchen, you go up top with Josie. We’ll handle the scene down here.”
As the other officers spilled from their vehicles, Josie and Gretchen jogged up and around to the entrance of the bridge, followed by two Lenore County Sheriff’s deputies. Here the darkness was more complete. There were no lights on the bridge or around it. The glow of headlights from the bank below barely reached the bridge but soon, as Josie expected, the marked vehicles began to turn on their take-down lights, which were on the front and sides of their light bars, casting more of a glow on the path to the bridge. Next, spotlights flicked on. Each cruiser was equipped with one on the A-pillar of the driver’s side. Their beams began to swivel, searching the creek and the trusses of the bridge.
They cast enough of a glow along the path to the bridge that Josie could make out Raffy’s black sedan angled across the mouth of the bridge, blocking vehicles from passing. Beyond it, the spotlights reached parts of the bridge’s ceiling but below it was darkness and shadow. The small flashlights that the sheriff’s deputies pulled from their duty belts hardly made a dent. There was no way to tell if Raffy had blocked the entrance to the bridge on the other side, but Josie radioed the team on the bank and asked for units to check.
As they reached the sedan, a gunshot boomed. Josie, Gretchen and the two deputies scattered, taking cover along the side of the road, behind trees. Another shot. Then another.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
From where Josie stood, she could see down to the bank where spotlights had been pointed at Jasmine and Sam’s dangling bodies. With each shot, Jasmine’s body jerked. Josie’s heart skipped a beat and then galloped into overdrive. At first, she thought he was shooting Jasmine, but then she realized that it was Jasmine reacting to the noise. She was still alive. Josie wasn’t so sure about Sam. She hoped he was merely unconscious.
The shots ceased.
Josie called out, “Raffy Sullivan! This is Detective Josie Quinn with the Denton Police Department. We’re here with the Lenore County Sheriff. Put down your weapon and come out with your hands where we can see them.”
No response.
“Raffy!” Josie called again. “Rafferty Sullivan!” She repeated her earlier request.
More gunshots rang out, echoing in Josie’s ears. She waited a few minutes, looking down at the team on the bank. Mettner had been tied to the rope nearest the bridge. He was in the middle of the creek, beneath where Sam’s small body dangled. The water came to his chest. He couldn’t reach the boy.
As Josie’s hearing returned, she heard a wailing. From a tree nearby, came Gretchen’s voice. “You think that’s Beau Collins?”
“Probably. He’d want him to watch.”
Josie called out his name again, gave the instructions.
Finally, a voice called back. “He’s going to kill me. You have to come in here and shoot him. He’s going to kill my son. Please. Help us.”
Beau Collins.
Josie said, “Raffy, this is over. Let Mr. Collins go and come out. There’s only one way this ends.”
“You’re right,” Raffy shouted back. “With this piece of shit watching everything he ever cared about get destroyed.”
Gretchen whispered. “He fired fifteen rounds. Odds are he’s got a handgun. There aren’t many that hold more than that.”
Josie said, “He could have an extended magazine.”
Gretchen replied, “I don’t think he owns one of those.”
