Page 79 of Every Deadly Suspicion

She hurried to Grover, hearing Jared’s footsteps right behind her. Grover had been shot. There was an entry wound in his chest, and a lot of blood. Hoping against hope, Hanna checked his neck and found no pulse. Jared knelt and tried as well. He looked over at Hanna and shook his head.

Hanna surveyed the entryway. It looked as if there had been a fight. Broken glass, a shot-up wall. From the way Grover lay and the stains on the wall, he appeared to have been standing when he was hit. She’d been to this house several times, the first when she was a child. She tried to remember the layout, rooms, entries, and exits.

“I’ve got to clear the house,” she said to Jared. “It’s one level, ranch style. I don’t hear anything, but I need to check. Can you stay here and let the deputies know when they arrive and make certain no one comes through that door to surprise us?”

“You got it.” Jared stood and closed the double doors. “Be careful.”

Gun up, Hanna went left, where she knew the living room andEverett’s study was. This should be done with at least two people, but she had to figure out what had happened. The big rooms were clear. She also cleared Scott’s room; it looked no different than it had when she’d been here to search after his crash.

Hanna crossed into the kitchen. The place was a mess. If there had been a fight, it took place here. The window was busted, and as she walked into the room, her boots crunched on broken glass. The intercom on the wall had been shot up. She looked up where she remembered the camera was and saw that it, too, had been destroyed along with the monitors.

Quickly she crossed to the other side of the house. Braden’s bedroom, Everett’s bedroom, three bathrooms—no one else was in the house. It was so very quiet.

She lowered her gun and went back to the entryway, surprised the deputies were not here yet.

“All clear?” Jared asked.

“Yeah, this is so weird.”

She thought back to when Everett had told her about his security upgrades. She tried to remember all that he’d said. Then it came to her.

“Panic room.”

“He has a panic room?” Jared asked.

“Yes.”

“Chief.” Her radio crackled.

“I copy, we’ve got a 929, and maybe other people hurt. Roll medics.”

“10-4, we have a problem. We can’t get the gate open for access.”

“What?” Hanna arched her eyebrows. “It was wide-open for me.”

“It’s shut now, and it’s heavy-duty. None of the codes work. We’ll get it open. Be advised, I don’t have an ETA.”

“So someone closed the gate after we came through,” Jared said after Hanna acknowledged the transmission.

Hanna nodded. “Let’s get down to the panic room and see if anyone made it there. It’s in the basement.” Everett had modified the original canning room to be a panic room.

Hanna went back through the kitchen to the door for the basement. She raised her weapon again, then slowly made her way down the stairs. Charlie’s calm voice came over the radio telling her that Fire was en route with a way to breach the gate. Backup would get here. Would it be in time?

In spite of the questions peppering her mind, calm infused her. Dispatch was a lifeline for cops—and it helped in stressful situations to hear the calm steadiness of a dispatcher who would take care of you.

She continued down the stairs and Jared followed. In the basement there was more evidence of a rampage—bullet holes and shell casings were everywhere. But she did find a working intercom. Hanna hit the button. “Everett, are you in there? It’s Hanna.”

A few seconds later he answered, his voice weak, “Yeah, I’m here. Where’s Chase?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s not out there anywhere?”

“Not that I’ve seen.”

“How about Braden?”

Hanna and Jared exchanged glances.

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