A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (43 page)

Plus, she was going to have to keep Steve with her or the madman could shoot him.
 

The front door was just a few feet from her, but she'd have to pull herself up and then open the door and get around it before Stanton could shoot at her. That would require more agility than her injury would allow her.
 

She watched the agitated man in front of her, pacing, talking to himself, waving the gun around. She pulled Steve close and hugged him to her body. He was tense and watching Stanton as closely as she was.
 

They were trapped.

Ben disconnected the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. His eyes were glued to the picture window of Lindsey's cottage and the scene unfolding inside. Water dripped from the large shade tree and onto his head, running down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. The chill he felt was not from the rain.
 

He'd driven up just in time to see Lindsey and Stanton struggling at the front door, but by the time he'd jumped from the Jeep and ran toward the house, the door was shut and they were inside. As he was about to barrel across the small porch, he saw the gun in Stanton's hand pointed directly at Lindsey. If he startled Stanton and the gun went off…
 

It went against every instinct, but he stopped and called Agent Pritchard.
 

Through the window’s thin, sheer curtains, he watched Stanton pace. Occasionally, the light from the hallway sparked off the shiny weapon in his hand. Since Stanton was focused on the area behind the front door, he figured Lindsey was there, sitting out of view of the window.
 

Ben crept forward. He couldn't wait the ten minutes Matt said it would take him to get across town. Even if Matt called for local police support, that could take precious minutes. Minutes that Lindsey would be alone with an unstable Stanton waving a gun around.
 

He put a foot on the bottom step to the porch and heard the old wood squeak. He flattened himself against the wall so he could look in the window. Lindsey was sitting on the ground holding Steve with her back to the wall. Her face was pale and her eyes wide.
 

If he burst through the door, it would smash into Lindsey and Steve and then Stanton would likely panic and shoot, probably hitting someone.
 

The back door was his best chance at getting Lindsey out. Maybe he could distract Stanton and that would give Lindsey a chance to escape through the front door.
 

He made his way around the small house to the backyard, leaving the gate open as he approached the back door. The back door was locked, but he eyed the dog door. There was, unfortunately, no way in hell he'd be able to squeeze through the opening.
 

He dropped to his knees and pushed the plastic cover up, then reached up until his fingers touched the doorknob. It was a stretch, but he was able to manipulate the knob until he heard the click of the lock releasing. He exhaled and tried the door again, and the knob turned easily. He waited for the shriek of the house alarm, but it never came. Lindsey must have disarmed it when she arrived home.
 

Pushing the back door open slowly, he stepped into the long, narrow laundry room that led to the kitchen. He could hear Stanton's voice from the living room, the pitch rising with his increasing panic.
 

Ben propped the back door open so Lindsey could get out more easily if she ran in that direction. The kitchen had a pocket door and he inched it open, peering into the dark kitchen, then toward the living room. The layout of the house made it so it was nearly a straight shot from the front door, through the living room, kitchen and laundry room, and out the back door. As he moved into the dark kitchen, he could see Lindsey sitting on the floor behind the front door.
 

She looked up and caught his eye, swallowed, and glanced away quickly. Steve's tail thumped against the wall and she hugged the dog close again and adjusted her position on the floor.
 

"What are you doing?" Stanton asked. "Don't even try to get up."
 

"I can't get up. I think my ankle is broken."
 

"Well, just stop moving. I need to think."
 

Lindsey let out a short, frustrated breath, but remained still. "You should just go. You can take my car. I won't even report it stolen until tomorrow."
 

"And go where?" Now Stanton just sounded whiney. Clearly, he hadn't planned this out. "And I don't have any money now. I sank everything I had into the property around the arena and now that Teri took the funds, I'm broke."

Ben moved deeper into the kitchen where Stanton wouldn't notice him. He had slid the pocket door partially shut, leaving enough space for Lindsey to easily open it when she ran through. Then he remembered her ankle and felt the rage build up inside him.
If
she could run.
 

"Why did she go?" Lindsey asked quietly.
 

Ben heard Stanton take a ragged breath. "She just got scared. You were getting too close. If you found out what was going on... And then we found the flashlight at the cabin. She was convinced that we needed to get out now, before the vote. We decided to liquidate everything and go. Spider was supposed to keep you from writing the story. I was to meet her at the cabin this afternoon and we were going to leave, but she never showed up."

Teri was smart. Distracting Stanton with a meeting an hour away gave her and Lara Petrie a good head start. Had this always been Teri's plan? Or had she met Lara and changed plans midstream?
 

"I thought the property was being bought and sold by Bear O'Bannion," Lindsey said.

Stanton gave a harsh laugh. "That was the plan. Everyone was supposed to think that. Bear was buying the land. We just couldn't risk him finding out we were the ones selling it to him."
 

From his vantage, Ben saw Lindsey shift and his body tensed. Stanton was unstable and angry and any sudden move might result in him shooting her. The thought took his breath away. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. He crouched, ready to spring forward and heard a sound from behind him. He quickly moved around the corner to the breakfast nook and leaned against the wall, expecting to see Matt Pritchard come through the backdoor.

It wasn’t the FBI.
 

Lara Petrie walked through the open back door and within two feet of Ben. She was focused on the scene in front of her and Ben didn’t see the gun in her hand until she crossed the threshold to the living room.

“Jesus, you are a pathetic little man,” the
Beacon
’s former in-house counsel said with a sneer that Ben could hear from a dozen feet away. “Where is she? Where are you supposed to meet her?”

“Who the hell are you?” Stanton asked.
 

Lindsey’s eyes widened as her gaze bounced from one of the armed lawyers to the other, then back to Ben. He shook his head.
 

Don’t do anything to set them off
.

Lara Petrie’s laugh was a humorless bark. “I’m the one who’s retiring on the profits from Vanda, LLC. And thanks for taking the fall for Teri and I. That’s going to go a long way to helping us get out of this backwater town.”

Her back was to Ben and he calculated how to disarm her without putting Lindsey at more risk. There were two guns in the room now, and two very unstable and angry people behind them. He held back, waiting for an opening.

Lara Petrie trained her gun on Stanton, but her attention was on Lindsey.
 

“God, you had to be so damn nosy,” she said.

“I was doing my job,” Lindsey said.
 

“You couldn’t just take a hint and stop digging into stuff that was none of your business,” Lara said.
 

"Why were you harassing me?"
 

"That wasn't my idea!” Stanton cried. “I told Teri that was stupid and unnecessary. But no, she insisted that Spider was a good resource. And he could tell us if Lonnie was working for Bear.”

Lara focused on Stanton, the gun steady in her hand. She wasn’t nearly as nervous as Stanton.
 

“That was my idea,” she said. “But you’re too stubborn for your own good. And you—”
 

She waved the small silver pistol around in Stanton’s general direction. Stanton pointed his gun toward Lara, then back to Lindsey, then back to Lara.

“Ms. Petrie, please, I don’t know what you want, but if you just let me go—”

“Petrie? Lara Petrie?” Stanton asked. “You’re Teri’s friend?”
 

“Yeah, something like that,” she snarled. “Where is she? What’s the plan now, Stanton?”

“Wait, I don’t understand. Why are you here?” Stanton’s voice got even whinier.
 

“Where is Teri?” Lara Petrie’s thin, wavering voice was gone now as she shouted the question. Both Lindsey and Stanton jumped at her tone.
 

“I don’t know!” Lindsey said.
 

“Neither do I!” Stanton said, running a hand over his sweating face. “I need to find her. She has everything!”

“One of you knows where she’d go,” Lara insisted.

“She wouldn’t leave me here,” Stanton said. “Something’s wrong. I have to find her.”
 

“Oh my God, you’re an idiot,” Lara said, her frustration ringing in her strident tones. “Teri said you were wrapped around her little finger, but I didn’t realize just how tight.”
 

“What? What are you talking about?” Stanton said, his voice unsteady. “We’re in love. I risked everything for her.”
 

“No.
We’re
in love,” Lara said.
 

“No. You’re just friends. Old friends. Close friends,” Stanton said. Ben could hear the doubt in his voice.
 

Lara laughed, but it was no longer the fake tinkling giggle that she’d affected the first time Ben had met her.
 

“She played you,” Lara said. “Hell, she played me, too. She’s gone. The money’s gone. It’s all over.”
 

“No. That’s impossible,” Stanton said.
 

Lindsey slowly moved so her bare feet were at the edge of the carpet, her hand still gripping the dog’s collar. She kept her gaze on Lara Petrie. Lara’s gun was pointed at Lindsey, but she was looking toward Stanton. Ben looked around the darkened kitchen for a weapon, settling on a cast iron skillet resting on the stove. He gripped the handle tightly, getting a feel for the weight.
 

The two attorneys in the other room continued their standoff.
 

“Teri’s gone, Stanton. She used you, she took your money, and she’s gone.”
 

Ben heard the sharp intake of breath in the dead silent room.
 

“I don’t believe you.”

His voice was low and shaky. Stanton was losing control. If Lara provoked him, there was no telling what he would do.
 

"Look, I'm sure you didn't want any of this to happen, but keeping me here like this isn't going to help you." Lindsey's voice was soothing, steady in the middle of Stanton's panic attack. Good strategy. Maybe he wasn't too far gone that he couldn't be reasoned with.
 

"Oh my GOD, stop talking," he yelled.
 

Or maybe the time for talk was long over. Ben gripped the skillet. It wasn't much of a shield, so he’d have to get around the corner and clock one of the lawyers with it before they could get a shot off.
 

He stood at the edge of the doorway and peered around just enough to see Lindsey still crouched in the corner. He could hear Stanton's footsteps but couldn't see his location now.
 

Lindsey gave him a quick nod and he saw her wrap her arm around Steve. With her other hand, she pulled something out of her bag and waited, her eyes following the sound of Stanton's footsteps. Suddenly, she threw the item in her hand at the front window.

That was his cue.

Ben dropped low and moved into the living room quickly, ignoring the crack of the gun and the shattering glass and focused on the first form he saw, Lara Petrie. As he pulled his arm back to swing the skillet at her, a blur of brown and white fur launched from the floor and knocked the slim woman to the ground. Ben jumped over the thrashing bodies and tackled Stanton, reaching for the gun as they hit the carpet.

"NO!" Stanton's voice was loud in Ben's ear.
 

"Lindsey, get out!” he yelled.
 

Another crack from the handgun and then he heard only ringing as he grappled with Stanton. The man was out of shape, but he was fueled by rage and desperation and put up a fight. Ben let his fist fly into the older man's jaw. Stanton's head jerked back and hit the tile floor in front of the fireplace, then his body went limp. The gun slipped out of his fingers onto the ground next to him. Ben stood, then picked up the gun, looking for the other threat—Lara Petrie.

He found her on the ground, wrestling with both Lindsey and Steve, the silver handgun still in the lawyer’s hand and waving madly around the room.
 

Ben threw himself into the fray, pushing Lindsey to the side and pinning Lara’s arm to the floor and knocking the gun from her grip. Lindsey scrambled over the top of the squirming lawyer and picked up the weapon.

“Are you all right?” he asked.
 

The door burst open before she could respond and Matt Pritchard raced in, a Twin City police officer right behind him. Steve barked and Lindsey grabbed him before the dog threw himself at another intruder.
 

Matt helped him subdue Lara Petrie, then snapped handcuffs on her.
 

"Call for an ambulance," he said to the police officer, who was helping Lindsey to her feet. “You two all right?”
 

"Lindsey needs medical attention, too. She’s hurt her ankle," Ben said, standing and walking toward her.