Hannah Alexander - A Killing Frost

He’d placed the boat and was parking the trailer when he heard shouting downriver. Jama calling his niece’s name. Then he heard a scream. Then the sputter of an engine.

No time to use finesse. He grabbed the tether, jumped into the water, then into the boat and revved the motor.

Clancy’s fingers dug into Doriann’s arms. “How does it feel to live like us poor people, little rich kid? To be hunted like an animal?”

She screamed again. And she heard her name being called from somewhere across the river.

Clancy clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shut up.”

She tried to break away, but his hold was like concrete. She couldn’t budge his arms.

“Your daddy’s going to know what it’s like to lose somebody he loves.” He was hurting her. “Privileged little girl. You don’t even know what life’s all about. You think you’re better than us because your clothes are clean and you get three squares, live in a nice home. How’d you like to grow up without a daddy?”

His hand was cutting off Doriann’s air. She kicked at him.

His grip grew tighter. “I’m not going to kill you yet, little spoiled rich kid. You’re still my ticket to freedom.”

If he wasn’t going to kill her, why wasn’t he letting her breathe? God? I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done. Guess I’m going to see You in a few…

She panicked, she fought. She thought she heard Humphrey again, and she saw a bright light in the trees. And then the roar in her ears grew louder.

The hand jerked, as if forced from her mouth. Clancy let her go, shoving her aside. She spun, landing on her belly in the leaves. She heard the breath go out of him.

He lurched forward and fell, trapping her beneath his leg. She reached out to grab a sapling and tried to pull herself out from under him. He was heavy.

His mouth started spewing dirty words again, and she could see him clearly because there was light. She saw Aunt Jama standing in the glow of the light, grabbing Clancy around the neck from behind and squeezing with her arm. He bucked and shoved Aunt Jama against a tree, breaking her hold. Then he turned on her. In the light, Doriann saw a knife flash in his hand. He raised it. Doriann screamed and lunged at his arm. She scraped the inside of his shin with her heel. Aunt Jama had taught her a few things.

He knocked her sideways with his elbow. Aunt Jama hit him again. He hit her back and knocked her down. She reached into her pocket, but he jumped on her. He grabbed her by the throat.

“No!” Doriann jumped onto his back and clutched him by the hair. She screamed into his ear, reached for his face and tried to poke him in the eyes. He knocked her off, elbow gouging into her stomach. She fell to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

Another roar from the water. Jama kicked up and broke Clancy’s hold on her throat. She kicked him again and again.

He raised his knife and plunged it down, but a shadow flew at him and rammed him up and over. He hit the ground with a grunt. A big shape-a man-jumped on top of Clancy and shoved his shoulders backward into the leaf blanket Doriann had made.

Doriann recognized her uncle Tyrell’s black hair and big shoulders in the bright light. She looked at Aunt Jama, who hadn’t jumped back up the way Doriann expected her to.

“Doriann, are you okay?” Uncle Tyrell asked.

“I’m good, but Aunt Jama’s not moving.”

“I’m moving,” Aunt Jama said quickly. “Just not very fast.” She groaned and sat up.

Doriann scrambled to her side. Uncle Tyrell had Clancy under control. Doriann knew he would.

Aunt Jama was bleeding. Doriann gasped. Aunt Jama reached up and pressed her fingers against Doriann’s lips.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” she said, then she pulled Doriann into her arms.

“I thought he’d killed you!” Then Doriann burst into tears.

Jama stood at the Dancing Waters Winery between Agents Sydloski and Bosch, who had escorted her from the island. Both men had fired questions at her all the way up the hill-and it had taken some time with the delay in securing Doriann’s abductor for transport.

The chopping roar of rotor blades had silenced the questions at last, and Jama watched the jet-black FBI helicopter lift Tyrell and Doriann into the sky. The sound most likely awakened the whole town. There would be calls to the clinic tomorrow. Maybe even tonight.

Agent Sydloski took Jama by the elbow. “Are you sure you won’t let us drive you to join them at St. Mary’s? You need to have that wound looked at. That’s quite a puncture.”

“There’s a lot of blood, but the cut isn’t deep. There’s a brand-new, state-of-the-art clinic just down the hill,” she said. “I have my very own key to it. I also have a critical patient who needs my care, and there’s no other physician who knows her case and can take care of her.”

“We’ll need to interview you and get a statement.”

“Can it wait until I’ve seen to my patient, and myself, and had a few hours of sleep?”

Sydloski looked at Bosch. “We’ll still be here in the morning.”

Bosch nodded. “It can wait.”

There would be a happy welcome for Tyrell and Doriann at the Jefferson City Hospital as soon as the helicopter touched down. Doriann would be thoroughly examined, treated, fed and debriefed. Jama had done a cursory exam, and found no obvious injuries. Jama had already told the agents everything she knew-which was very little that they hadn’t already known.

In the excitement of the fight, the convergence of six agents onto the tiny island in a sudden hailstorm of light and sound, and the aftermath of the arrest, there had been no time for Jama to speak to Tyrell except to assure him she was okay.

“You and Mr. Mercer are two determined people,” Agent Sydloski said.

Jama looked up at him. Doriann might be dead if Jama hadn’t disobeyed orders. But it could have ended differently had Tyrell not arrived in time.

“Are you still looking for the accomplice?” she asked.

“The search dogs have arrived. We don’t have a scent for them to follow, and there were multiple tracks through the woods. We’ll still be in the area until we find her, but this partner was not the original woman who went on the killing spree with him. That woman was found dead three days ago.”

“He killed his partner?” How chilling.

“The case is still under investigation.” He checked out the blood on Jama’s upper arm. “You’re going to treat that yourself?”

“No problem. Look, I know Doriann’s a brave kid, but everything that’s happened to her is going to be a huge trauma for her.”

“She’ll receive the best of care, and I think she’ll provide a lot of answers for us.”

There was a sudden, loud baying of a hound behind them, and Jama turned to see Humphrey, Monty’s hunting dog, running toward them up the hill. His tongue hung from his mouth. He was panting hard.

“Hey, boy.” Jama knelt to pet him. “Didn’t I see you out on the highway this morning?”

His body quivered. He was wet. When Jama ran her hand down his side, he winced and whined. He was spattered with drying mud.

“Easy, Humphrey. You look beat. You’ve covered some miles, haven’t you?”

Agent Sydloski knelt beside her and smoothed the ruffled hair on the dog’s head. “You know this animal?”

“He’s one of the Mercers’ hunting dogs. Doriann rescued him from a ditch a few years ago.”

“We picked up sounds of a dog baying for miles along the river,” Bosch told her. “It looked like a dog got a few bites at Doriann’s attacker at one point.”

In the glow from the security light in the parking lot, Jama raised Humphrey’s snout and looked into the depths of his brown-black eyes. “Was that you I heard tonight, boy? Did you follow Doriann down the river? Are you a hero?”