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Navarro appeared stricken. “You do? How, honey?”
“Mom’s boss.”
Navarro’s jaw tightened. “We’ll talk more when you’re feeling better, but I can do something about that legally if you want.”
“Can you call Mom and Pop? I just wanna go home.”
“I don’t have their number,” Sam said, but Navarro handed Sam his phone. It was already ringing, Harlan’s name on the caller ID. Sam took the phone. “Rita’s fine. We got her,” he said as soon as Harlan answered.
A harsh sob was all that came through the line, but Sam could hear Betsy McKittrick demanding to know what had happened. Then she was on the line.
“Lieutenant Navarro?”
“No, it’s Sam Reeves. I have Navarro’s phone. Rita is here and she’s okay. She wants to come home. Kit’s fine, too.”
Betsy choked on a sob of her own. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said brokenly. “Where...” She cleared her throat. “Where can we meet them?”
“I’ll let you work out the details with Lieutenant Navarro.” Because Kit had come around the SUV. She fell to her knees and gathered Rita in her arms, rocking her. Kit’s face was twisted with relief, misery, and residual fear.
There were no tears on Kit’s face. She remained strong. Stoic. But brittle, like one more thing would shatter her into a million pieces.
Sam knew how she felt. He hesitated, then gently put his arm around her. He expected her to pull away, but she leaned into him, pressing her face to his neck as she held on to Rita for dear life. He wrapped his other arm around Rita and together they sheltered the girl, denying Scott the last look he sought as the cops dragged him down the trail to a squad car.
But Kit had turned her head, meeting Scott’s eyes, and Sam thought she might confront him one last time. But she simply watched Scott until the squad car’s taillights disappeared into the night. Sam was sure she’d pull away from him then, but she didn’t, instead leaning her head on his shoulder, her body finally relaxing.
She trusts me.
Sam felt ten feet tall, especially when Navarro gave them a disbelieving look as he walked by them. Sam suspected that Kit was not normally touchy-feely and that this behavior was unusual.
An incredible sense of peace washed over him, like this was the place he was supposed to be. Beside the person he was supposed to be with. He’d been certain that she was special from the moment he’d read the first article about her dedication to her job and her compassion for the victims. Everything she’d done since then had cemented that certainty.
That they’d done this thing together, that they’d made a killer pay, that they’d rescued Rita and made life safer for the rest of the girls... That made it even better.
But there was sadness, too. Because dozens of young women would never come home. Skyler would never come home. I’m so sorry.
His arms tightened when he felt Kit begin to tremble. The night was cool, but not cold. This was more likely an adrenaline crash, he thought. He saw new flashing lights approaching. The EMTs were coming. They’d take care of Rita and Kit. Until then, Sam wasn’t letting go.
Navarro appeared again, wordlessly draping a thermal blanket around the three of them before walking away.
Suddenly exhausted himself, Sam rested his cheek on top of Kit’s head. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “It’s okay. You did it, Kit. He’ll pay for Rita and for all the girls.”
It was over. They’d done the hard part. They’d survived. Now it was time for the next hard part.
Healing.
Carmel Valley, California
Thursday, April 21, 7:25 a.m.
Kit woke up in her old bed at Mom and Pop’s house, feeling completely disoriented. Until she spied a cream-colored poodle with brown flecks on the other twin bed. Snickerdoodle was curled up at the foot of Rita’s bed, snuffling softly. Rita was safe.
She was also asleep, thankfully.
That was why Kit had slept over. Rita wouldn’t let go of her after her ordeal. Not that Kit could blame her. Rita had been drugged, abducted, handcuffed, and threatened at gunpoint. Who knew how much care and love it would take to get her past this?
But if anyone could, it would be Harlan and Betsy.
Kit and her parents had been up with Rita until about five a.m., giving her hugs. When the girl had finally closed her eyes out of sheer exhaustion, Kit had flopped into bed, still wearing her clothes from the day before. That she’d managed to take off her shoes had been an achievement.
