Seconds to Live(99)

She shook the images away. Lance and Brody were both alive. No uniformed chaplains had visited their loved ones.

“Stella?” Carl stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “You were just in a shooting this afternoon. Are you all right?”

She wouldn’t be sidelined in the search for Gianna. “I’m fine.”

Stella shook off the mental slide show. No one was going to get shot tonight. They weren’t going to be surprised.

Carl took one side of the doorway. Stella stood on the other. The third uniform crouched behind them. She wiped water from her forehead and knocked on the door. No one answered. She rapped again. “Mr. O’Neil? This is the police. We have a warrant.”

The only answer was the sound of rain beating on the porch roof.

Stella gave knocking one more try. “Mr. O’Neil, open the door.”

Next to her, Carl drew his weapon.

Stella shielded her eyes and tried to peer through the glass panes in the door. “I can’t see much. It’s dark in there.”

Carl walked to the end of the porch and looked in another window. “Same here.”

“Are you ready?” Stella asked.

Carl nodded. The uniform brought the battering ram and swung the heavy black rod by the handles. It hit the door next to the lock. The door burst in. Carl and Stella led the entry. The uniforms followed. They swept the house, clearing each room floor by floor. When the entire house was declared empty, they met on the front porch again.

“There’s a vehicle parked in front of the barn. Let’s check it out.” Stella moved off the porch. Their warrant included outbuildings. The rain beat on her shoulders and dripped down the back of her neck as she skirted a mud puddle. The barn doors were closed. The windows were high and boarded over. The two uniforms jogged across the yard.

Stella sniffed. Over the wash of rain, a faint but caustic odor lingered.

“Doesn’t smell like a body. Smells like cat piss.” One of the uniforms wiped his face.

Stella scanned the front of the building. High windows were covered with plywood. “Can you boost me up to the window? Maybe I can see through those boards.”

“Careful,” Carl warned as he moved under the opening.

But they both knew going in blind was dangerous. It was better to know what they were facing than to rush in.

Stella put a hand on his shoulder and stepped into his locked fingers. He boosted her a few feet into the air. She grabbed the sill and got a toehold on a loose board. She put her eye to the space between the boards. A distinct odor wafted through the tiny slit. She recognized the smell with one sniff. Ammonia.

“Can you see anyone?” Carl asked.

“Give me a minute.” She squinted into the dim, but all she could see was piles of junk and shadows. “It’s too dark inside.”

“I’m sorry.” He reached for her hand to help her down, then scanned the front of the barn.

“Can you see anything between the board over the other window?” Stella gestured to the other side of the door.

“Let’s just open the damned door.” Carl reached for the long, metal handle on the sliding door. “There’s probably nothing inside but fertilizer and old junk.” He pointed to the rusted hinges of the barn door. “This barn doesn’t see much action.”

His fingers closed around the handle.

Turning, Stella saw a thin metal wire running along the doorframe.

“Don’t!” Stella shouted.

But it was too late. He was already pulling.

“Get down!” Stella dove at him, looping an arm over his chest and taking him to the ground with her just as the front of the barn exploded.



Mac drove toward Stella’s house. His phone chimed with a text message. Stopping at an intersection, he checked the screen. It was from Gianna.

He pulled over to the shoulder and opened the message.

can’t find stella. can u pick me up?

Stella would have her phone off.

Mac typed back, yes. where r u?

Bridge Park.

Why would Gianna be sitting at the park where Dena Miller’s body had been found? As if she knew what he was asking, she texted, was thinking about jumping. Changed my mind. :)

Shit. He pictured her standing on the bridge in the rain, looking over the edge, the water rushing and swirling in the dark below. Gianna was depressed, sick, and suicidal. As Stella had pointed out, without constant intervention, the girl was always a few days from death.

He tried to call her, but she didn’t answer.

On my way, he answered, then he sent Stella a quick text. Gianna texted me. I’m going to pick her up at Bridge Park.

She’d want to know Gianna was alive the second she finished her op and turned on her phone. Should he call the station and have them call off the search for the girl? No. Not until he had eyes on her. If she was a no-show, Mac wanted the cops looking for her.