See Her Die (Bree Taggert #2)(5)

“From whom?” Bree asked.

“From the man who shot Harper.” The girl’s tone sharpened with frustration.

“Your friend Harper was staying here with you?” Bree asked.

“Yes,” the girl said. As the female officer on scene, and not liking Rogers’s rough handling of the girl, Bree moved in to search her pockets and person. She found a small folding multi-tool, but no weapons. For now, she’d bag the tool, the ax, and the girl’s phone as evidence.

Opening the phone, Bree verified the girl was the 911 caller. “What’s your name?”

“Alyssa Vincent,” she said. Her face twisted in confusion and fear.

“And your friend’s name?” Bree asked.

“Harper. Harper Scott.”

Rogers yanked her toward the door. She resisted Rogers’s attempt to move her. He pulled harder. The toe of her boot caught on a raised floorboard, and she stumbled and pitched forward. With no hands to block her fall, she hit the floor face-first.

Bree glanced at Rogers. He was breathing hard. His face was flushed, and sweat gleamed on his forehead. Adrenaline overload? Could he not handle the stress? He was an avid hunter, but deer didn’t shoot back at you. The girl was unarmed, handcuffed, and clearly no longer a threat, but he didn’t seem to register that information. Was something wrong with him? He seemed off. Bree had worked with him for only a few weeks. She didn’t have enough personal experience with him to make a judgment on his behavior.

Bree motioned Rogers to back off, then helped the girl to her feet. “Where did the shooting happen?”

The girl led them back into the main room. Red-and-blue strobe lights pulsed through the window.

“Out there.” Alyssa turned to the rear window and inclined her head toward the view. “On the ice. Behind the cabin next door. A scream woke me up. I couldn’t find Harper. I went outside to look for her. That’s when I saw him shoot her. She fell.” The girl’s words flowed over one another. “And she didn’t get up. He saw me, and I ran.”

“How many times did he fire his weapon?” Bree asked.

“Twice,” Alyssa said with no hesitation.

“Describe him,” Bree said.

Alyssa closed her eyes, as if trying to picture him in her mind. “Tall, dark pants, boots, dark coat. He was wearing a hat.”

“Could you see the color of his hair or eyes?”

The girl shook her head. “The hat covered his hair, and it was too dark to see his eyes.”

Two deputies came through the front door; one of them was Bree’s second-in-command, Chief Deputy Todd Harvey.

Bree handed the girl over to the second deputy. “Put her in your vehicle and watch her.”

She signaled to Rogers. “Let’s check out the lake.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rogers’s words were clipped.

Bree scanned the snow. Somewhere in the forest, a victim was bleeding.

And a shooter was on the loose.





CHAPTER THREE

“Let’s go, Greta.” Matt Flynn waved a hand, directing the pure-black German shepherd toward the next obstacle on the homemade agility course. The approaching dawn brightened the horizon. Snow flew from under the dog’s feet.

Greta pricked her ears and sprinted for the plastic tunnel. Her body was lean and sleek as she zoomed across the snow. She raced through, emerging out the other side at top speed and looking to Matt for his next command.

He headed for the next obstacle, a crate pushed in front of a four-feet-tall section of wooden fence. Matt motioned for Greta to go over it. The dog leaped onto the crate and scaled the fence in one smooth motion. Matt called her back, and she repeated the jump from the other side. He dangled her tug toy, and she latched on to it.

“Good girl!” Matt swung her around in a circle. She held on. The dog landed, tail wagging, loving every minute of their game. Extreme tug was her favorite at the moment.

“I can’t believe her transformation,” a familiar voice called.

Matt turned toward the voice.

His sister, Cady, stood at the edge of the yard, her hands propped on her hips. The spotlight mounted on the back of Matt’s house shone on her strawberry-blonde ponytail. “I’m amazed with what you’ve done with her. She was rejected by two families.”

Cady operated a dog rescue organization. As a former K-9 handler with the sheriff’s department, Matt was specially equipped to deal with her more challenging rescues, including Greta.

“People buy puppies because they’re cute without any knowledge of the breed characteristics. Herding dogs are bred to work. They get bored easily.” Matt commanded the dog to release the toy. When she dropped it, he stuffed it into the leg pocket of his cargo pants. “She is super smart.”

Probably smarter than the people who returned her.

“Do you think she’ll calm down?” Cady asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. She’s a year old and still high maintenance.” Matt looked down at the dog. Greta stood at attention, her huge black ears still pricked forward, her focus entirely fixed on Matt. She was ready for the next game. “I wouldn’t call her excitable. Driven is a better word. I’m not sure it’s a trait she’ll outgrow.”

A few seconds of unnatural silence passed. Matt’s instincts went on alert. His sister was never quiet.