Page 142 of One Last Stand

“It’s in the basement. I’ll go,” Moose said. He dropped his gear, pulled off his boots, and hung his coat, and the guys did the same.

Axel followed him downstairs to his domain.

He could have flicked on his cell phone, but Moose let his memory lead him through the dark basement. Just the moonlight off the river, shining into his sliding-glass-door walkout, gave him light into the theater room with the flatscreen and big sectional. Axel grabbed his cell phone and flicked on his flashlight as they walked into the room with the hot tub and sauna attached. Moose had thought he knew this place inside and out until London had sneaked in through said sauna over a week ago via Pike’s secret lair.

He’d have to board that up. Now, he went to the electrical panel in a nook next to the sauna and opened it. Shone his cell phone flashlight on it.

The main breaker had blown. He turned it back on, and lights flushed through the entertainment area. “You left the light on when you left for the callout,” he said to Axel.

“Add it to my tab.”

The television also flicked on in the entertainment area. Moose gave him a look as he turned.

And stopped.

“Just slow your roll there, Moose,” said Harry Benton, standing with a small Glock pointed at Axel, who now raised his hands.

Harry wore an army-green jacket, boots, and carried a backpack.

And behind him, another man.Right—Liam Grant. He held a shotgun, trained on Moose.

Moose drew in a breath. He wasn’t close enough to grab either gun—not that he knew how he would do that—but the impulse shot through him along with the punch of shock.

He raised his hands. “Listen, guys?—”

“Shut up,” Harry said. Not a big guy, really, but the man was burly enough to suggest he wasn’t someone that would go down easily. And behind him, Liam looked a little unhinged. From the snow on their jeans, it looked like they’d trekked here from the woods.

Except, how had they?—

Oh.His thoughts went back to Hazel, seeing someone on the deck. And how he’d stepped out to see and then gone back inside—and had he locked the door?

Maybe. But it had been days since then and . . .

Maybe it didn’t matter how they’d gotten in. Just, “What do you want?”

Harry motioned for them all to move into the theater room. Liam backed up, his gun following them.

These guys had probably thought this out while he’d been off flying around Europe.

A chill went through him at how he’d left Tillie and Hazel here alone.

“Get on your knees,” Harry said.

Moose didn’t move.

“Hey, Moose, the lights came on upstairs, so?—”

Oaken came down the stairs, hit the landing, and before Moose could shout, a shot exploded, ricocheting through the house.

Oaken jerked back, shouted, then fell the final few steps.

“Hey! Stop!” Moose said.

“Don’t move!” Liam, now turning back to Moose.

Definitely unhinged.

Oaken had gotten up, now backpedaled to the wall, blood spurting out of a shoulder wound, running down his arm. A groan pulsed out of him. “You shot me! Why’d you shoot me?”

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