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Chapter 120

Jake's headpounded from the relentless whirl of ambulance lights, painting the forest red and white. Only two remained. The one carrying Lennox had sped off immediately, hoping to get the critically wounded officer the lifesaving care he needed.

Another had rushed off with Claire, shortly after. The single shot Jake fired had hit its mark, wounding Claire without hitting any vital organs, just as he'd intended. However, the impact she'd sustained after she lost control of the car and slammed into a tree left her with a shattered pelvis and legs. The medics had assured him she would live, but she would probably never walk again, thanks to the massive tree that had crushed the front end of the squad car.

Jake and Dana had barely escaped the tree's wrath themselves. If Dana hadn't called it to Jake's attention, they would've been crushed. Thankfully, he'd pulled them away just in time.

The two ambulances that remained held Meredith and Hartwell. Only Hartwell's flashed lights of urgency and hope. Meredith's bus was as silent and still as the cloth draped body inside.

Jake still couldn't believe what she'd done—sacrificing herself to save him. He'd never liked her, never been willing to look past what she'd done that day on the hill, especially because of all the pain she'd caused Dana. But how could he hate her now? She'd traded her life for his. Yet somehow Dana was still the one hurt in the end.

Jake had held Dana upright while they loaded Meredith's lifeless body into the ambulance. She hadn't even cried. She just stood there, numb and broken—a mirror image of the torment Jake felt. It was only sheer instinct that kept him going. The Army had instilled that in him. The ability to put one foot in front of the other no matter what, compartmentalizing the chaos around him to deal with later.

With Hartwell finally stabilized, the EMTs announced they were leaving. Leaving Dana where she sat on the porch, Jake jogged over to squeeze the officer's hand as they loaded him.

"You're gonna pull through," Jake said.

"Damn right," Hartwell wheezed, still trying to bark orders to the officers on scene. He'd been wearing his vest when he was attacked. It was likely the only reason he was still alive. It had deflected the first blow and protected his vital organs enough on the second strike that he'd only sustained a punctured lung and a chest wound.

Jake thumped on the back of the bus, sending his prayers for a safe and swift journey to the hospital. He watched the taillights fade into the gray morning as the vehicle lumbered down the dirt road away from the cabin.

He and Hartwell had a tumultuous past, but in the end, Jake owed Hartwell his life. If he hadn't gone the extra mile to race out here and warn them, it might very well be Jake and Dana in the back of the silent ambulance.

Inhaling deeply, Jake steeled himself to face the rest of the police swarming his property. He knew the drill. They'd need statements from him and Dana, though she was in no condition to give one. She had a lump the size of a baseball on her head and a concussion to go with it. Not to mention vertigo from the gun being fired so close to her ear.

The laceration where Claire had struck her with the Glock 19 was superficial at least and had already been stitched up. Though it was the wounds Jake couldn't see that worried him most.

Dana lost Meredith and Claire today. Her world had been rocked and might never be the same.

Jake returned to her side, sitting next to her on the porch steps. She let him put his arm around her and didn't resist when he gently pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. But she didn't say anything. She hadn't since the felled tree silenced the forest.

His phone rang for the hundredth time. Jake saw Richter's name on his caller ID and knew he needed to answer. Kissing the top of Dana's head, he stood to answer the call.

"Shepard."

"Jake, I know you're in the thick of it up there, but there's been a new development in the Reaper case."

"You're kidding me," Jake muttered. Would this never end?

"I wish I were. Hartwell filled you in on the notes we found in Max Durnin's stolen news van?"

"Briefly."

"Well, it got me thinking. I went back to Dvita's house, and we found the mother lode."

"I don't understand," Jake said. "Hartwell came here telling us Claire was the Reaper."

"Not just Claire. All of them. You have to see it to believe it. How soon can you get back to the city? We need Dr. Gray's expertise."

Jake glanced back at Dana. "Richter, she's in no shape to assist with an investigation right now. She just watched her best friend die, while her colleague held her at gunpoint."

"I know, and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't dire," Richter explained. "I'll send you some photos so you can see what I mean."

Jake exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Alright, but I'm not making any promises. Right now, I'm focused on wrapping up this crime scene and getting Dana home."

"No," Richter said. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. You can't bring her home."

"What? Why not?"

"Jake, just look at the photos."

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