"But Culpepper was in Iraq when Donovan got killed. Fletcher told me."

"Culpepper lies. Colonel Orange is a master manipulator. He even managed to talk Doc into going to work for him at Raptor. Got Jackal in there, too, and Shakes. But they weren't able to hack it. Jackal was majorly f.u.c.ked up, saw too much. He had some of the worst PTSD I've ever seen. And Shakes, well, he drank like a fish. Always did. Hard to show up for a job when you're pa.s.sed out in the gutter. But Doc, man, he found a way to make it work."

The fire popped and crackled, and Sam burrowed deeper in Xander's jacket.

"Why didn't you go work for Culpepper, too?"

Xander waited for a minute, then shrugged. "I had a bad feeling about Orange. As good as he was, I just never fully trusted him. I wanted out, all the way out. Out of the military, out of D.C. and the bulls.h.i.t there, out of it all."

"So you built this place and ran away."

He glanced at her, jaw tightening. She'd offended him again. Would she ever say the right thing to him? But he surprised her by smiling.

"Yep. And it's been nice and quiet for years, until Doc and Jackal came flying up here two weeks ago, telling me we had some sort of major problem. Someone had sent them each a note saying 'Do the Right Thing.'"

"Taranto. Taranto sent the notes."

"Yes, little f.u.c.k told me that. If he'd just been straightforward from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened."

"So Donovan and Croswell came up here two weeks ago?"

"Fighting like cats and dogs, too. Jackal wanted to have a sit-down with Taranto, Doc was dead set against it. Who could blame him-the official report says it was his weapon that fired the shots that killed King. He doesn't need that in the media. But those two, they turned on each other, got fighting down in the river, for G.o.d's sake. I had to wade in and pull Jackal off Doc. He had his head under the water, practically drowned him. We're not supposed to water-board our teammates. Doc came up p.i.s.sed, madder than a wet hen, pinned Jackal down face-first. Idiots practically killed each other.

"We must have looked like fools. Thor was bounding around barking, thinking we're playing, I'm screaming at them, trying to remind them that you don't turn on your friends, that we'd figure out who was behind the notes, everything."

"The sand in their lungs," Sam murmured.

"What?"

She took a deep breath, happy to at least have one part of the mystery explained satisfactorily. "Both Donovan and Croswell presented with fresh irritations from inhaling sand into their trachea and lungs. It's what initially made you the number-one suspect. The sand's biological makeup traced back to here. The Savage River."

"Wow. That's...awful."

"What about Everett, though? How does his suicide fit into all of this?"

"He wasn't a suicide. I went down there, I told you that. He wasn't answering his phone, and after Doc and Jackal, I got worried. That's how they got the hair they matched to my DNA. I checked the scene thoroughly. They were both dead when I got there, had been for a day or so. Trust me, Shakes wouldn't kill his mother. He may be a drunk, unable to hold down a job for long, but he loved her. No, I'm betting Culpepper went to see him, make sure he wasn't going to do any talking to the media. Somehow Mrs. Everett got in the way and was killed."

His voice caught. "Shakes wasn't doing too well. He was unstable enough as it was. A push in the right direction-either at gunpoint or through serious intimidation, and he'd cave. If he did cut his own wrists, he was coerced."

"Jesus," Sam said. "This just keeps getting worse. So what's on the pages from Donovan's journal? Details about the note and y'all getting threatened?"

"You just said 'y'all.'"

"So? I'm from Nashville. It's not exactly a stretch."

He smiled at her. "I liked it, that's all. No, I think Doc finally realized what his brain wouldn't let him know. He didn't kill King. There was no way. But all these years, he's felt responsible."

"Culpepper killed King, I take it?"

"That's what I think. Maggie told him about the rape. I a.s.sume King went to Culpepper and demanded retribution. Culpepper isn't the kind of man who's easily threatened. He probably swore to do the right thing, then shot King at the first good opportunity. For all I know, he got that firefight started in the first place. There was another unit closer that could have been called in. He set us up."

She tried to absorb the enormity of what he'd just told her. "G.o.d, Xander. All of this. He rapes a woman, murders her boyfriend, then kills three more men to cover his tracks. But why now? He's had plenty of time. He could have made it look like an accident."

"No, that wasn't his way. See, Karen is crazy as a fox. When Shakes spilled the beans to her about the friendly fire incident, and she started digging, she must have found out about Maggie. She went to Orange for confirmation, and G.o.d knows what sort of lies he told her."

"And somewhere along the way, she found out that Jen is King's daughter."

"No, she's not." Maggie's voice interrupted them. She came around the fire, her long body casting grotesque shadows across the yard and onto the trees beyond. Sam saw one that was distinctly rectangular. Maggie had a weapon in her hand.

Xander shifted toward her, and Sam heard the confusion in his voice. "What are you talking about, Mags? You told me-"

"Never mind what I told you. I lied. I had to."

"Xander, she has a gun." Sam was stuck between the two of them. She saw Xander's hand go to his waist, hoped the gun wasn't visible. She couldn't believe it. All this time, she was utterly convinced Culpepper, Orange, had been the killer. She didn't think it was Maggie. Didn't want to think it could be Maggie. She liked the woman, d.a.m.n it.

But here Maggie was, with her weapon pointed right at Xander's head.

Xander froze, and Maggie took three steps closer.

"Maggie. You don't want to do this."

She laughed, humorlessly.

"Xander, I don't have a choice."

And she pulled the trigger.

Chapter Fifty-Six.

Savage River

Dr. Samantha Owens

Xander moved faster than Sam thought was possible, knocking her back on the ground out of harm's way, his weapon rising as he used his foot to flip it into his hands, spinning, graceful as a ballerina, toward the threat.

G.o.d, he was like something out of The Matrix, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut, not wanting to see Xander killed in front of her, realizing if he didn't stop Maggie, she would be next. She started to pray and blinked her eyes open once, just in time to see Xander swing the weapon toward the trees.

Away from Maggie.

Gunshots rang through the clear mountain air. Her ears echoed with their fury.

Deafened, Sam risked another glance and realized Maggie and Xander were standing hip to hip, arms up, firing into the forest. Their only communication was under their breath. Sam caught "forty degrees to your left" and "reloading" but her ears were ringing, she couldn't make out anything else.

Xander stopped shooting long enough to grab Sam's arm and fling her to her feet, shouted, "Cabin!"

Sam didn't waste any time, she took off running, Maggie on her heels, a hand on her shoulder, holding her bent over. They reached the porch door and Maggie shoved Sam down on the hard wood. She could hear Thor barking frantically. He was stuck in his pen, unable to come to his master's aide.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, the light. He's going to see us go in." She shouted, "Cover me!" and Xander lit up the night with a barrage of bullets. Maggie pushed Sam through the door and slammed it behind them, knocking the light switch off as she did.

Sam could hear Xander's weapon, the sharp, staccato bangs moving now, circling the house, then there was silence. Even the dog stopped barking. Sam prayed he wasn't hit.

"What the h.e.l.l just happened?" Sam whispered.

"Shh."

Maggie had her back to the wall. She reloaded the pistol with sureness. Sam realized Maggie could probably rebuild the weapon blindfolded, in ten seconds or less, or something else equally impressive. She was again reminded of Taylor.

She wished she had that kind of fearless courage.

Then Maggie leaned over and pushed the gun into Sam's shaking hands.

"Here. Anything comes through that door, shoot it."

"Wait. No..." But Maggie slipped away, creeping across the floor on her belly. Sam heard the distinct noises of the lock on the gun cabinet being freed. More weapons. d.a.m.n it, Sam hated guns.

Then Maggie was back, a thick black a.s.sault rifle in her hand. Sam could still hear intermittent gunfire.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, tell me what's going on," Sam whispered, this time with enough force that Maggie complied with an answer.

"Culpepper. He was in the trees over your shoulder. Listening. I couldn't sleep, I was coming to join you. I saw him in the flash of light from the door. I was trying to be subtle. I can't believe Thor didn't let us know he was out there."

"You're about as subtle as a heart attack. Is Xander okay?"

"He'll be fine. He knows this mountain like the back of his hand. He was ready for this, as well. He'll be leading Culpepper away from the house. I have to go help. You need to stay here and guard the kids. Noah has a rifle, he knows how to use it. I told him not to shoot you."

"No. No, you can't leave me here. I-"

"Sam." Maggie put her face right into Sam's. "Focus. Listen. You have to. Protect my babies for me, Sam. If that door opens, shoot. Don't hesitate. Hesitate and you could get all of us killed. Do you understand?"

And then she was gone.

Xander had somehow kicked out the fire. Sam didn't think she'd ever seen a darkness so incredibly black before. It scared her, made her feel like she was blind. She desperately wanted to light a match, flick a lighter, anything to break its all-consuming cover, but she didn't dare.

She couldn't hear properly, and the cloying blackness made her claustrophobic. She began to count mechanically, running her mantra through her head, breathing slowly so she wouldn't hyperventilate and pa.s.s out.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.

A short burst of gunfire pulled her up short. She smashed her body against the wall. d.a.m.n, that was close. She tightened her grip on the weapon.

At least she finally understood what had happened, the why behind all these senseless deaths. Maggie hadn't gotten pregnant with King's child. She'd gotten pregnant with Culpepper's. Jen was the product of her mother's rape.

And now her father was out hunting down her mother, trying to silence the one person who could undo him, his career, his reputation, after all these years.

What an idiot he was. Maggie obviously didn't have any desire for anyone to know the true story behind Jen's parentage.

But pushed by Karen Fisher, Culpepper thought the truth was coming out. And he did everything in his power to stop it.

Sam's hand was cramping. She loosened her grip on the gun. She couldn't hear the children, but didn't want to call out, to draw attention to them all.

She was so tired. Getting drawn into Culpepper's game, nearly dying herself, now squatting breathless in a darkened cabin with a gun in her hand...it was all too much. She needed to go away someplace quiet and have a nice little breakdown.

Too bad that wasn't an option. At least, not right now. There were three children twenty feet to her right, and she would be d.a.m.ned if any harm was going to come to them. She'd lost her own children because of her selfishness. Even if she had to step in front of a bullet, she wasn't going to let anything happen to Maggie's kids.

She heard something on the porch. A sc.r.a.ping, soft and gentle. Like a shoe fall.

Her heart leaped into her throat and started beating so hard she thought she might black out. She reminded herself to breathe, tried to bring air into her lungs silently. She focused on the handle to the door. She knew if it were Maggie or Xander, they'd call out to let her know.

It must be Culpepper.

She gripped the gun more securely and bit her lip.

Please no. Please.

The doork.n.o.b began to twist. She could see the shadow under it as it moved. She swallowed hard and aimed the weapon at the door.

Could she do this? Could she shoot someone in cold blood? Even knowing he was about to come hurt her? That he might have already killed Xander and Maggie?

Yes, she could. For the children.

She steeled herself. The gun stopped shaking. A quiet calm came over her.

The door gently began to open. She used her left hand to cup her right so the gun would be steadier.

She smelled the night air, the breeze gusting through the door, setting some papers on the counter fluttering. Her finger grew tighter on the trigger.

A man's silhouette now, oddly one-sided. She remembered her training. Squeeze your finger softly back toward your body, apply even pressure. Don't jerk at it, it will raise the barrel and you'll miss your shot.

The shadow grew larger. She was about to take the shot when a deep voice called from outside the cabin, a voice she recognized.

"Stop! Police! Put down your weapon and step away from the door."