Page 40 of Final Escape
She started toward the scene, but he gently caught her arm. “This isn’t anything you want to remember, Carrie. Believe me.”
She shivered at the subtext of his words. “I can’t explain it, but I have a really uneasy feeling about this.”
“You and me both.” An unreadable expression crossed Logan’s face. “And unfortunately, I have a good idea about how all of this is going to go down.”
“I need to see him, Logan. Please.”
He led her back through the trees to where the two EMTs were kneeling by the blanket-covered body. One of them, a middle-aged man with Phil embroidered on his pocket, was talking on a cell phone. Given the medical jargon he was using, he was probably talking to a physician.
“This is Carrie Randall,” Logan said. “She’s renting the apartment here and has had some problems with prowlers. She’d like to see the victim.”
The two EMTs exchanged glances, and then Phil shoved his cell phone into a holster on his belt and shrugged. His partner, a brunette with Maura emblazoned on her uniform, frowned. “Why?”
“She feels she may know the victim.”
Maura shook her head slightly. “Why don’t you wait, ma’am. The body will be cleaned up at the funeral home in town. It...won’t be quite as difficult, then.”
Anxiety roiled through Carrie’s stomach. “Please—I just need to know.”
Phil lifted back a corner of the blanket.
She’d somehow guessed, even before this moment. A hint of intuition. A sixth sense. A heavy sensation in her heart. Or perhaps just logic, because of Billy’s arrival in town and his threats.
Still, disbelief and horror swamped her as she stared down at the remnants of an all-too-familiar face. She could still see the scar traversing what was left of his cheekbone. The thin, cruel twist of the mouth, even in death.
“Billy,” she whispered with a hand over her mouth. No wonder Logan had tried to protect her from this.
The world narrowed, the edges of her vision fading to a long, dark tunnel as a loud buzzing sounded in her ears.
And then everything went black.
* * *
THREE PATROL CARS ARRIVEDone after another, lights flashing. Maura sat with her arm around Carrie on a nearby log. Wrapped in a blanket now, Carrie’s head was bowed. She hadn’t said a word since she came to after collapsing at the sight of her ex-husband’s body.
Logan stood near the body with the EMTs, his arms folded across his chest and his heart heavy as deputies Rick Peterson—as starched and pressed as ever—and Vance Munson climbed out of their vehicles and strode up to the scene.
A moment later the door of the patrol car emblazoned with County Sheriff swung open. His belly wedged behind the steering wheel, Bryce Tyler awkwardly shifted his bulk out of the car and limped to the crime scene, scowling as he favored his left hip.
Logan could see it in the officers’ eyes already. The doubt. The judgment. An air of vindication, even. He didn’t have to guess that he’d soon feel the cold, hard clamp of handcuffs on his wrists, or that he’d be shoved roughly into the backseat of one of those patrol cars.
They thought he’d gotten away with murder once before, and now they’d do everything in their power to see it didn’t happen again. The thick, clotted blood on his hands and shirt would be evidence enough to arrest him.
Phil stepped aside as the sheriff hunkered down to lift away the blanket to study the victim’s face. “A group of female customers discovered the body,” he murmured. “They arrived early, and were walking through the woods looking for wildflowers.”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “Where are they now?”
“Up at the office, with Penny. One of them was nearly hysterical.”
“What did you see when you arrived?”
Phil canted his head toward Logan. “He was performing chest compressions, but it was too late. The guy was gone.”
Tyler frowned. “I didn’t think you could pronounce a death.”
“Not in this county. But we worked on the victim for a good thirty minutes, as well, and maintained communication with the ER doctor at Granite Falls Memorial. This guy was shot at least once. Probably a second time after he was on the ground. He sustained significant blood loss. He was turning cool and gray. Since the pupils were fixed and dilated, and there were no respirations or pulse, we received orders to cease our chest compression efforts.” Phil gave him a steady look. “We were also told to leave him exactly as he lay, as it would be a crime scene. As if we didn’t know.”
Tyler’s gaze slid sharply toward Logan, then back to the EMTs. “So the other witnesses have been in the office together, all this time. Was Logan ever up there with them?”
