Page 54 of Shelter for Martina

They did exactlythe same thing they’d done the night before, with one difference. Bud gave Martina a tiny little Tanfoglio.25-caliber and told her to keep it with her at all times. He gave her a holster to wear and slipped the tiny gun into it. Then they fed the horses, let the dog out and in, and Bud set the alarm.

And just as he expected, at about one fifteen, the power went out. His hand clapped down over Martina’s mouth just as she started to shriek, and he leaned down to her ear. “Get in the closet. Don’t make a sound. Not one. Don’t come out until I tell you to. Go. Now.” He watched by the light of his phone screen as she closed the door, then shut the screen off and waited.

The sound of the back door creaking caught his ear, and he headed that direction. Lucky followed him silently, right at his calf. But when they got halfway up the hallway, she stopped and looked behind her. That didn’t deter Bud. He assumed she was wondering why Martina wasn’t with them, and that didn’t surprise him, but if she’d been left standing at the closet door, they’d be screwed.

Sliding along the walls, he made his way through the silent house, gun drawn, and when he reached the kitchen, the door stood open, but there was no sign of anyone. He’d expected to run headlong into Adams, but all that greeted him was silence and emptiness, and he was confused. That door hadn’t opened itself, and as he cleared each room in succession, his confusion grew.

It wasn’t until he made his way to his home office that he realized his mistake. The little squeal that came from the master bedroom made his heart sink, and when he opened the door and trained his tactical flashlight into the room, his heart almost stopped.

PhilAdams stood against the opposite wall with what looked like a .380handgun in his hand. And in his other arm?

Martina.

“Let her go,” Bud demanded, his voice measured and low.

“Nope. You’re going to take me to my son.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Bud told the man.

Adams laughed, and his voice made Bud nauseous. “Don’t give me that shit. You know where he is. And I,” he said, pointing the gun at Martina’s head, “know where her daughter is.”

“Just let her go and I’ll take you to Marty,” Bud said, watching his tone and volume. “I swear, I’ll take you there right now.”

“Oh, you’re going to take me. We’re all going. And when I get my hands on him, I’ll kill all three of you. That’ll be that.”

“You do realize they’re onto you, right? They know what you and Young have been up to.”

“Me and Young? We ain’t been up to nothin’. You got nothin’ on us. All you really got is some worthless paper that shows things you can’t prove. That’s all you got. Come on. We’re going to get Marty.” When Bud stood there, Adams barked, “Now! Let’s go! Nice and slow! Put your gun down and let’s go.” He pressed the barrel of the gun against Martina’s temple again and Bud laid the Smith & Wesson.45, his service weapon, on the nightstand.

Martina was trembling and crying. “Shhhh, babe. It’s gonna be okay. Everything will be all right. We’ll go get Marty and Phil will do the right thing.”

“That’s not my style, pig, and you know it. Let’s go. Get in the cruiser. Might as well make it official, huh?” he said and laughed.

Bud made his way slowly up the hallway, listening for the sounds of Adams practically dragging Martina with him as they followed him. But as he passed the front bedroom, a movement in the doorway caught his eye.

Lucky.

Wild card, Bud thought as they passed the dog, and he wondered if Adams had noticed her. They headed for the back door and started down the steps, Bud still in the lead. When they got to the top of the steps, he said, “Wait!”

Adams sounded irritated. “What?”

“I’m so flustered that I totally forgot my keys. They’re right there in the kitchen. Just inside the door. In that dish.”

“Get ‘em, bitch,” Adams growled and waved the gun at Martina, then stepped backwards inside the door, still dragging her, until she could reach them. She leaned out to grab them, and all Bud saw was a flash of black and white.

The big dog grabbed Adams’ arm and spun him. As she did, Martina slipped the tiny pistol from its holster, but the sound of the larger weapon firing filled the air and the smaller one bounced down the stairs. Not giving it a second thought, Bud dove for it, lifted it, and started firing, one shot, then another and another until the magazine was empty. PhilAdams lay in the doorway, not moving, but where was Martina?

He scrambled blindly as lights came on in all the houses around them, bounded up the stairs, and screamed, “MARTINA!” The darkness was debilitating, but he felt around until he found her.

Her face was wet, and in the darkness, Bud held up his hand to see it glistening. She was hit, and he couldn’t tell how badly, so he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder, and ran out into the yard. The beam from the neighbor’s security light was just bright enough that he could see her face, the whole right side covered in blood, and her eyes were closed. “SOMEBODY HELP US!” he screamed into the night. There was the sound of running feet, and people yelling, but he sat there in the yard, her head in his lap, as the world crumbled around him. For him, there was nothing but the woman he loved and a huge black and white dog.

* * *

There were no more tears.Bud had cried until he couldn’t cry any more. When the ambulance had finally come, he’d been fairly certain she was dead. He’d followed it all the way to the hospital, the lights on the big cruiser flashing against the back of the bus, but when they’d pulled in, the EMTs had been working over her feverishly, and he hoped that meant there was some sign of life. No one would tell him anything, and he was paralyzed with fear. At some point Len showed up, and in about an hour, all four kids were there, the small kids picked up by Len’s wife and taken to their house.

And so they sat. Bud didn’t know what to do. To his knowledge, there was no one to call for her. He didn’t know where any of her family was or how to reach them. One of the troopers went to her house and rummaged around, but he didn’t find an address book with information, and Bud didn’t know the code to unlock her phone, so there was no way to get into it. Riley and Maeve tried to get him to eat something, but he wasn’t hungry. When Amos and Alex came by, Amos took him by the arm and pulled him out into the foyer. “Here. You need this,” the KDCI agent said and handed him a small flask. The bourbon burned on its way down, but it was a welcomed burn, and he thanked Amos for it before they went back in and everyone sat back down to wait.

It was six thirty in the morning before a doctor came out and called her name. Bud shot up out of his chair and let the surgeon lead him to a small room down the hallway. Len and Blake went with him. He didn’t want to be alone.

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