Page 90 of Outsider

Raising his hand, he touches the side of my face, leans close and presses a kiss to my mouth. “The meeting isn’t until afternoon. Roads should be passable by then. I’ll be here late morning to pick her up.”

He pulls the helmet on and buckles it at his chin. “Night.” He goes through the door and disappears into the lightly falling snow.

I find Gina sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of cola in front of her. She looks up when I enter, tries for bravado, but she’s unable to hold my gaze. “I guess tomorrow is D-day, huh?”

I walk to the table, pull out the chair across from her, and sit. “Tomasetti has pulled together a team to meet with you.” I tell her the agencies involved. “It’s a start. It’ll get things rolling.”

“He say anything about immunity?”

“No.”

She nods, her expression telling me she didn’t expect a different answer. “I’ll be arrested?”

“Probably.”

She nods, having known that, too. “Booked into County?”

“Until they can figure out what to do with you. I don’t know about bail. You’ll likely have to wait for your arraignment or bail hearing.” I look around, not for the first time regretting that I dumped that bottle of Gentleman Jack. “Gina, I wish there was another way.”

“I could always hightail it to Mexico.” The laugh that follows is cold and rough.

“It’s the best we can do. The rest is up to you and the system. The courts.”

Finally, she raises her gaze to mine. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”

“I’m glad we got to reconnect. I wish the circumstances were different.”

“I’m ready to be done with this, Kate,” she tells me. “Get it over with. Whatever happens, whatever the future holds, good or bad, it’s got to be better than this … limbo.”

Even as she makes the statement, we both know there are no guarantees. She’s facing a multitude of serious charges and could possibly spend years behind bars. Her career is finished, her reputation forever tainted. She’ll never work in law enforcement in any capacity again.

We fall silent, thoughtful, both of us feeling more than is prudent. The truth of the matter is there’s nothing left to say. No comfort to be had.

Rising, I set my hand on her shoulder. “Get some sleep,” I tell her, knowing it’s the one thing neither of us will do tonight.

And I walk away.

CHAPTER 29

They left the motel at twelve thirty A.M. The snow had stopped at some point. A heavy-lidded moon gazed down at them from an infinite black sky. The wind was nearly calm, and the temperature hovered somewhere in the teens. Bertrand couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so edgy. Usually before a raid or the execution of a no-knock warrant, he was pumped up and ready to go.

This was different. This time, there was more risk, more at stake. He didn’t have the rest of the team to back him. No SWAT. No cops standing around, hoping for some action. And there were so damn many things that could go wrong. When that was the case, something usually did.

Road conditions were still hazardous. All over town, vehicles were stuck in drifts and abandoned. Piles of snow left by the plows were ten feet high on both sides of the road. At nearly every intersection, they had to break through a foot or so of residual ice and snow left by the blade.

Bertrand cut the headlights as he made the turn onto the township road. Moonlight glinted off the snow, offering just enough light to see the road. He stopped the SUV in front of the Lengacher place, the same spot they’d parked the night before. He could feel his heart beating against the Kevlar vest he’d cinched tight beneath his coat.

“No lights inside,” Mercer muttered from the passenger seat.

“Barns are dark,” Bertrand said, squinting into the darkness.

They’d put the shotgun in the backseat. Both men carried pistols. Bertrand had the warrant tucked into his shirt pocket beneath his coat. He’d called the Holmes County Sheriff’s Department at just before midnight. He’d apprised the deputy of “the situation” and told him they would be serving the warrant “around twelve.” The deputy, believing he meant at noon the next day, agreed to have the sheriff call him back “ASAP.” Bertrand had also mentioned Kate Burkholder, telling him she would likely be at the scene. He didn’t know the whole story there. Seed planted. Everything under control. Time to move.

The lane to the Lengacher farm hadn’t been cleared and the snow was too deep for any vehicle to navigate. The neighboring farm was a quarter mile away and there weren’t many trees between the homes for cover, so Bertrand idled down the road a ways and parked in the shadows beneath a stand of trees. He shut down the engine.

“You got the throw-down?” he asked.

Mercer unzipped his coat pocket, withdrew a pistol bundled in a hand towel, and unwrapped it. “Picked it up at a bust last year. Serial number is filed off. Never been logged in to Evidence.”