She had killed someone. Not just anyone. The Butcher.
Tears flowed down her face and she breathed as if she’d been without oxygen for hours. She stared at David Larsen, at his blood seeping into the ground. At his eyes glazing over.
She watched him die.
“My God, Miranda.”
“Quinn?” Her voice sounded odd, distant. She had trouble gaining her focus. Shock as the adrenaline wore off.
Arms wrapped around her. Strong arms, pulling her close. “Miranda, I thought-” He didn’t finish his sentence.
She turned into his warm chest, breathed in his comforting scent, and never wanted him to leave. She clutched at him as if she were drowning, her sobs buried in his body. And he held her. Just held her.
His deep, quiet reassurance soothed her. “It’s over, sweetheart. It’s finally over.”
CHAPTER 35
By the time Quinn brought Miranda back to the Lodge, it was well after midnight. Miranda was unusually quiet. He wasn’t surprised: she’d gone through a second horrendous experience in the woods.
It had taken nearly two hours for the medics to transport Nick, Lance, and Ashley from the canyon to the Parker Ranch, where ambulances waited. A medic bandaged Miranda’s leg while she sat in a temporary shelter. She was fixed to a board and brought slowly up the mountain after the others.
Miranda had wanted to go straight home, but Quinn drove her to the hospital to get stitches. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight, and held her hand the entire visit.
Though David Larsen was dead, all Quinn could think about was how he’d almost lost Miranda again.
Bill and Gray were waiting in the bar. Bill rushed to his daughter as soon as she limped in with Quinn’s help. “Randy,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“I’m okay.”
She was more than okay. She was a survivor. Quinn had always known it, and she had proven her courage in the face of evil.
He hoped she believed in herself now. No self-doubts, no what-ifs. She had grown into the woman he knew she could become.
“Sit,” Gray said, pulling out a couple chairs.
They sank into them, and Bill poured them both doubles of his best Scotch. “Oh, wait, you can’t drink on pain medication,” he said, holding back her glass.
“Give it to me, Dad,” Miranda said, holding out her hand. “I didn’t take the pills. You know how I hate taking drugs.”
He handed her the glass and sat down at her side. “It’s over. You’re safe.”
Quinn didn’t trust himself to say anything. He hadn’t gotten over the shock of seeing Larsen’s knife puncture Miranda’s leg.
Most people hadn’t had a serial killer touch their lives. Twice.
Quinn filled Bill in on the abbreviated version of what happened.
“I can’t believe Delilah Parker’s brother-poor Ryan, to find out like that,” Bill said, shaking his head.
Miranda spoke up for the first time. “Ryan is brave. I don’t know why Larsen didn’t kill him. He must have sensed Ryan knew.”
“From what I know about serial killers,” Quinn said, “they have their own set of morals.”
Bill guffawed. “Morals!”
Quinn explained. “Perhaps ‘rules’ is a better word. Some killers won’t touch animals, for example. Larsen was a wildlife biologist, and according to everyone my partner talked to in Denver, he loved the birds he cared for. He even named them.”
“Theron,” Miranda murmured.
Quinn turned to her. Sudden, hot emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he thought again about how close she’d come to dying. “Excuse me? Did you say
She nodded. “When he died, he said, ‘Theron.’ I didn’t understand what it meant.”
“Could be one of his birds.” Quinn turned back to Bill while squeezing Miranda’s hand. “Larsen might have felt a kinship with his nephew. They went fishing together. Ryan felt his uncle was a good listener. Larsen probably couldn’t conceive of killing him, but he also probably didn’t believe Ryan would turn him in.”
“But why didn’t he just leave? Disappear?”
“He had to finish what he started.”
“I gave Richard a suite of rooms,” Bill said. “He and Ryan are staying here a few days. Richard’s worried about Delilah. He thinks Larsen killed her.”
“It’s possible,” Quinn said, though he couldn’t figure out the time line on that scenario. Richard and Delilah had been at the house together when Sam Harris visited. Richard said she left shortly thereafter, very upset. Ryan met up with Larsen at about the same time Delilah left the ranch.
There was an hour of Larsen’s time unaccounted for, the time it took for Ryan to ride his horse to the Lodge.
From evidence at the Parker Ranch, Larsen had gone into the house at some point, but Quinn didn’t know when.
Had Delilah Parker returned during the short time Quinn and Judge Parker had left? Had she and Larsen had a confrontation? There was no evidence of violence in the house. They hadn’t made a complete search of the property because of the rescue in the canyon. Tomorrow a full team would be out there, as well as at the Parker cabin outside of Big Sky where Nick had stumbled upon Larsen’s hideout.
Or maybe Delilah was scared that he would go after her and went into hiding. She’d return, then, tomorrow, when she learned he was dead.
Or maybe she fled because she felt guilty. That she knew what he was doing and hadn’t stopped him.
Quinn didn’t know, but he didn’t like loose ends, and Delilah Parker’s role in her brother’s life was one big mess.
Nick was still unconscious. He had a serious head wound and an infection they had yet to get under control. Quinn hoped to God he made it.
It looked like JoBeth Anderson would pull through. And Ashley’s parents had already arrived from San Diego. She would be released from the hospital in a day or two, and had already decided to go back to California.
“What happened with Sam Harris?” Miranda asked, stifling a yawn.
Quinn tensed. “He eventually came back to headquarters and the dispatcher told him he’d been relieved of duty. He left the station, apparently furious. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.”
Frankly, he didn’t know what he would do about Harris. He’d jeopardized the entire investigation and Quinn would like nothing more than to make an example of him, but he should probably leave the situation in Nick’s hands once he was fully recovered. He’d write up a formal report for the Sheriff once they tied up the loose ends in this investigation.
Like, where was Delilah Parker? Was she dead-or alive?
Miranda yawned, and Bill told Quinn to take her back to her cabin. “Take care of her, Peterson,” he said. Quinn didn’t miss the double meaning.
Bill hugged his daughter. “I love you, Randy,” he whispered in her ear, tears making his voice raw.
“Love you too, Daddy.”
Miranda disliked being fussed over, and Quinn was going overboard. He kept making sure she was comfortable in bed, her leg elevated, her pain medication and a water bottle on her nightstand, even though she insisted she wasn’t going to take the pills. He started a fire in the wood-burning stove to ward off the chill that descended once the sun had set, and offered her food, another drink, water. He told her it was late, and she needed to get her sleep.
