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“Stop that,” Olivia ordered.
“You saved us. Baby, my baby. You saved us.”
Seconds later, Jake came in, weapon drawn, then lowered it when he surveyed the scene. “Well, Christ on a crutch. Nell, call for an ambulance.”
“He can wait,” she said as she walked in behind Jake.
“Nell, for God’s sake.”
“Shut up, Miles. I’ll get something to cut them loose. I’ll find something.”
“First drawer next to the kitchen door,” Olivia said steadily, though her eyes filled with tears. “And we could use some water. Please.”
“I’ll get that. He’s got a knife on his belt, Jake.”
“Yeah, I see it. I’ll get it. Feds are coming,” he said as Miles handed the gun he held to Jake and went for the water. “They contacted me right after Miles did. Morgan, did you do all this?”
She looked down at Rozwell and nodded.
“Good job. Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Ladies, are you hurt?”
“He slapped us around some. He hurt Audrey more than me.”
“Their wrists and ankles are raw, Jake.” With the clippers, Nell crouched down to snip the ties.
“First aid kit.” Closing her eyes in relief, Audrey wrapped her aching arms around her mother and her daughter. “Mudroom cabinet, over the dryer. We’re okay. We’re all okay.”
Rozwell groaned when Jake cuffed him.
“He’s not.” Olivia’s hand shook a little as she took the glass of water Miles offered. “He came up against a Nash woman. You had his number, Morgan. She had his number. Got him to put the gun down, the knife down. Smart, and brave, and strong,” she managed, and finally began to weep.
Morgan looked up at Miles. “You heard me.”
“I heard you.”
“I heard you back. I knew you’d come.” She pushed up to stand, swayed a little. “My legs are going.”
“I’ve got you.” He pulled her to him, held, pressed his face to her hair. “I’ve got you.”
Beck and Morrison arrived before the ambulance, walked through the broken door.
Rozwell lay curled on the floor, eyes going black, nose swollen, blood dripping. Audrey and Olivia sat hip-to-hip on the sofa while Nell tended their wrists.
“Miles, we could use an ice bag or two.”
“I’ll get them. I know where they are.”
When he heard her voice, Rozwell tried to focus on her. “I’ll kill you.”
“No.” Miles moved into his sight line. “You won’t. She beat you. You get to live with that. Morgan Nash beat you.”
“Are you hurt?” Beck asked her.
“No. I’m all right,” Morgan insisted. “We’re all right,” she told the agents. “I need to get the ice.”
