The first struck him in the arm that held the weapon and it clattered to the basement floor. The second bullet embedded in his shoulder.
“You bi—” He lunged toward her, and she popped a third round in his left kneecap. He crumpled to the floor.
She quickly kicked his shotgun out of reach and aimed her gun at him. “What’s it gonna be? Want another hole in your fucking body or do you surrender to a girl? Now, give me the key for the other cells!”
“Fuck you!”
“Now!” Screw him. There was no way she was getting any closer than necessary. He might be injured, but he wasn’t unconscious and adrenaline had a way of muting pain and infusing strength.
He writhed and wailed as he twisted his body to access his pocket. He eventually withdrew the key and tossed it at her with his good arm.
“Now, get in that cell!” She nodded toward the one she’d almost been locked in. “I don’t care if you crawl or if I have to drag you! Get moving!”
Jonah flashed her another murderous glare, and she cocked her gun.
Her turn to say, “Give me one good reason.”
He started to move, and she kicked him the rest of the way into the cell and shut the door, locking it behind him. She set about freeing the girls, then she’d call it in.
Fifteen in total, all of them somewhere between ten and fifteen, and sharing three small cells.
The sound of approaching sirens was as melodious as an angels’ choir and just as miraculous. She hadn’t called for help.
Forty
-Five
The next afternoon Amanda was sitting across from Malone, running through her entire thought process on going to Reid’s solo. It had made sense in her mind, but on speaking her reasoning out loud, it fell flat. She should have trusted him to keep her play on the down-low.
“We’ve had this conversation before, Steele,” Malone said, the formal address never a good sign. “You have to stop acting like a one-man show.”
“Woman. One-woman.”
“Whatever.” Malone batted his hand in the air. “You’re missing my point. We work with partners for a reason.”
“Didn’t benefit Bishop much.” She fought the smirk that so desperately wanted to come to fruition.
“Don’t be using that partnership as a model. At least he ended up doing the right thing,” Malone said.
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?” One of the calls she’d missed while fighting for her life had been from Jacob Briggs. He’d tracked down the source of the blocked calls. Two numbers had come back. Her silent caller had been Rick Jensen, and—as she’d suspected— Cud had been the one to use the voice modulator.
“Bishop’s the one who sent cars to Reid’s house.”
In the flourish that had transpired after other officers had arrived on scene, getting the girls sorted out and provided for, she’d forgotten all about the backup coming before she’d had a chance to call. Today would be a happy day for a lot of families as their girls would be going home. Tears filled Amanda’s eyes. She’d saved them! But there were still so many more out there. “How did he know I was there?”
“Said that he’d been keeping an eye on you. Anyway, he admits to burying evidence in the Webb case,” Malone offered.
“Why would he do all that though? He isn’t… tell me he isn’t part of the ring?”
Malone shook his head. “Not at all. Never was, but like you he was starting to get close to the truth—had his suspicions anyway and they were too strong for Jonah Reid’s liking. Reid threatened Bishop’s sister, and he believed him enough to turn the other way.”
Amanda could understand a bit how that could happen but wasn’t saying that much to Malone.
“You did good, but I can’t stress enough that next time—”
“I know, go with backup.”
“At least with your partner.”