Page 82 of Her Dying Secret

Josie softened her tone. “Ryan, let Mira go. Nobody here wants your dad to be harmed. We’re all here because we care about Rosie and about you. We can talk about everything, but not here, not like this. Drop the knife.”

Noah’s pistol was still aimed at Ryan’s rib cage. From where he stood, Josie could see that he didn’t have a clear shot at Ryan’s shoulder, which might loosen his grip on the knife and get him to drop it. He might have a shot at Ryan’s armpit, but it would likely nick his heart and he would bleed out in minutes, if not seconds. It was how Mettner had died.

Josie pushed that thought deep down.

But they had to do everything they could to protect Mira in this situation. Josie hoped that wouldn’t mean one of them shooting an eighteen-year-old kid. She knew Noah was keeping quiet so as not to draw attention to himself. Ideally, Josie could talk the kid down and no one would get hurt.

Ryan lowered his mouth to Mira’s ear. “You did find out though. You found out about Dee, and you never came. You only cared about Rosie. You were going to take her from us. We were a family until you and that bitch, April, started screwing everything up.”

“N-not true,” Mira huffed as the arm crossing her chest crushed her against his body. “Dee is not your family, Ryan. She’s crazy. What she did to April?—”

He needled the skin of her throat with the point of the knife. “April was going to take Rosie and then send Dad to prison. We had to do something. We had to protect him.”

A drop of blood slid down Mira’s neck. “Dee was never trying to protect your father, or you. She just wanted to be in control. She wanted the family I gave him for herself. Couldn’t you see what she did to your father? How she twisted everything in his mind? How she got him so worked up and so panicked that he did everything she said? He was so much worse with her.”

“You’re wrong. She told me how you stole Dad from her, how you tried year after year to keep him—and me—away from her. When it didn’t work, you got your sister involved. You’re nothing but a selfish bitch.” Sensing a shift in Ryan’s tone, from a frightened little boy to a vengeful man, Josie shouted at him again. “Put the knife down now.”

Mira squeaked, “I’m sorry.”

“Drop the knife, Ryan!” Josie hollered again.

Ryan wasn’t listening to her. He pressed the knife’s blade across Mira’s throat. Her skin was already raw and pink from the constant jostling of his body and more blood leaked from where he’d pierced the skin earlier. Mira’s eyes bulged. Josie yelled for him to stop.

A gunshot boomed. Noah.

Ryan’s body bucked, the round hitting him in the side, near the bottom of his rib cage. He stumbled backward. The arm holding the blade dropped, the knife falling to the mud near his feet. Mira gave another tug at the arm that held her against him. It gave way, and she sank to the ground, her bound hands reaching for her throat. As Josie rushed forward, holstering her gun, she was relieved to see that the blood wasn’t gushing through Mira’s fingers. Ryan went down, legs crumpling. Noah was already at his side, making sure the knife was well out of reach. Holstering his weapon, he stripped off his polo shirt and pressed it to Ryan’s side, trying to stem the flow.

Josie radioed for help as she joined Noah on the other side of Ryan’s body.

On her knees, Mira tried to lurch toward them, but it was impossible with her feet tied. She fell forward, her dirt-covered, gauze-wrapped forearms taking the brunt. A shriek of pain ripped from her body.

Ryan’s face was sickeningly pale, his lips leached of all color. He tried to speak.

“Don’t try to talk, kid,” Noah said. “Your lung is probably punctured. We’ve got ambulances on the shore. They’ll be here soon and then we’ll get you off this island and to a hospital.”

Whether they would attempt to transfer him by boat or have to call in Life Flight was another story. If the paramedics could stabilize him long enough, he could be airlifted.

Noah met Josie’s eyes briefly. In them, she saw everything. His cool, calm demeanor and, behind that, what it cost him to have to shoot someone. He said, “Get Mira out of here.”

Josie got to her feet and spun in Mira’s direction. Gently, she turned Mira onto her back. The wound on her throat was superficial. Josie started at Mira’s ankles, working at the rope until she had it untied. Then she moved to Mira’s wrists.

From the trees, Josie heard shouting, followed by footsteps moving swiftly toward them. Relief coursed through her. Chancing a glance at Noah and Ryan, she saw that the kid was hanging on, Noah bent to his face, speaking softly and rapidly.

Mira’s wrists came loose, and her upper body sprang up. Her eyes were wide and hopeful. “Rosie?”

“She’s safe.”

Mira threw her arms around Josie, her entire body shaking with sobs. “Thank you,” she said, again and again. “Thank you.”

SIXTY

Josie threw her forearm up over her eyes as the Life Flight helicopter kicked up dirt, leaves, and American burnweed fluff. Debris whirled around them as it took off from the edge of the island, carrying Ryan to Geisinger Medical Center in Danville. It was too soon to tell whether or not he would survive. She watched as, across the river, Noah emerged from the trees. His white T-shirt and pants were covered in Ryan’s blood. He looked haggard as he hopped into Mitch Brownlow’s boat for the short ride back to the bank.

As the noise of the copter’s rotors faded, Josie could hear Mira speaking to Rosie. The two of them were huddled in the back of one of the ambulances, waiting to be transported to Denton Memorial to be checked out.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Rosie cried.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I don’t want to leave either, but I will have to. I’ve done some bad things and now I have to be held accountable.”

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