“Just give up the girl. We don’t have a beef with any of you,” a deep voice yells out from the living room.
It’s silent for a moment.
“No?” the same voice asks. “All right. We’ll do it your way.”
Bullets spray the living room, many making their way through the kitchen wall.
“Stop!” the man yells. “Go find them,” he orders.
I grab the knife block that’s on the counter near me. Two men walk into the kitchen with their guns drawn. I throw a knife at the first man, striking him. Then I reach for my gun as the second man turns in my direction. I fire before he can. They are both down.
Ozzie said the first car had three men, but we don’t know how many were in the second car. Three shots go off near the bedrooms.
Knowing one man is likely waiting for me to walk out of the kitchen and into his trap, I go out the back door and make my way to the front of the house. The two cars are parked in the driveway, and no one is in either.
As I come around to the front door, I spot a man standing there, aiming a gun at the kitchen.
“You have to come out of there at some point!” he yells. It’s the same guy who has done all the yelling.
“You’re right,” I say.
He whips around, and I shoot.
Instead of going inside, I walk around the other side of the house to one of the bedroom windows. A man is crouched behind the door. I tap on the glass to get his attention. He jumps up and shoots out the window. I hop out of the way in time, but it did what I intended, alerting Ozzie of his location.
Another gunshot and I glance back through the window. Ozzie took the man out. He sees me and holds up one finger.
One left. I nod.
Then I slowly make my way toward the back of the house until I hear a sound near the front. I change course in time to hear one of the car engines starting.
By the time I get around the front, one of the cars is backing up. I shoot out a tire and then a second one. At least we will have one man to question. But then I see the gun in his hand. I shoot straight through the windshield.
Ozzie steps out and joins me in front of the house. “The cellar?”
“Yep. Was that all of them?”
Ozzie nods. “Guess I’ll call Reed, and you take care of her.”
I help Delaney step out of the cellar. She’s shaking, and I pull her close.
“They’re all dead,” I say.
She pushes away from me and walks to the two dead men in the kitchen. Then she notices the man in the living room and goes to him. “I recognize him.”
“Who is he?” I ask.
“He worked with my dad for several years, then he was gone. I thought he was dead.”
I bend down and pull his wallet from his pants. “Walter Collins.”
She nods. “Yes, he used to always ask Dad to fix him a Collins, the drink. He thought it was funny. My dad thought it was obnoxious. Then I would be asked to go upstairs.”
Ozzie returns to the room. “Reed is on his way, along with an FBI agent Brian had sent to help us.
* * *
It wasone hell of a long night explaining everything that happened to the FBI agent. Fortunately, we were allowed to leave, and Ozzie drove the three of us to a hotel. The moment we were in bed, we were all out.
