Except for his stop at the range earlier, it had been a quiet evening for Sergeant Charlie Wexler. The range was outside of town and technically out of his territory, but it was also where the department did their proficiency shooting. No one was going to raise an issue if a Spearfish Lake policeman drove out there to brush up on his shooting – not that there was any great need for it. It had been over ten years since a member of the Spearfish Lake Police had taken out a gun and shot it in the line of duty. But it was always good to be prepared, since you never knew what would happen.

In the hour or so since he’d left the range, Charlie had mostly been thinking about Janice Lufkin. He agreed with Cody – if someone was beating on her, it was most likely her father or her brother, and very likely the both of them. The Lufkins, father and son, were bad news from the word go. Years before the father had done a couple of short terms as a guest of the State Department of Corrections. It was before Charlie’s time, but he understood that the raps involved aggravated assault. If anything, he’d mellowed a little, but Jack had been the centerpiece of more than one brawl out at the Pike Bar over the years, and Bobby had been involved in the last one even though he’d been under age to be in the place at all. The Spearfish Lake Police had been unable to lay a felony charge on Bobby for anything, although it seemed to Charlie like it was only a matter of time before he or his father managed to screw up and get caught red-handed.

Unless they really screwed up, though, it probably wasn’t going to be soon – at least the way things were handled around the department these days. When Harry Novato, the old police chief, had hung up his badge a couple years before, the young punk of a city manager they’d had at the time had decided to open up the position. The decision had officially been because he didn’t think that Charlie was seasoned enough to take the job, but in practice he’d done so because he wanted to build a city staff that was loyal to him, rather than to the city council. After a longer search and interview process than it should have taken, Bill Abernathy was taken on. He’d been assistant chief of some small town department in the ritzier Chicago suburbs, and he came well recommended.

In Charlie’s studied opinion, Abernathy was about as close to a failure as you could get. He just didn’t understand a small town out in the northwoods where everybody pretty much knew everybody, and that it was far different from a small department in an urban area, so he made a lot of enemies in a hurry. Worse, he liked things smooth and routine – he didn’t understand things like handling a bar fight and didn’t care to learn – such things didn’t happen in a small upscale Chicago suburb. He didn’t like domestic disputes – to be sure, not many cops did, but he tended to ignore them or downgrade them, even though they were a common call the Spearfish Lake department had to deal with. “That’s not how it’s done in a real police department,” was a common line from him, with the implication that the Spearfish Lake police officers were a bunch of local yokels who didn’t know what they were doing.

From what Charlie knew – and Charlie kept his ear to the ground – no one on the council particularly liked Abernathy, but he hadn’t screwed up bad enough to get canned, at least not yet. The city manager who had hired him had managed to get his walking papers, not long after Abernathy started, and the new city manager didn’t think much of him either. At least Abernathy had taken off for a several days “in civilization” as he put it, and that left Charlie in charge of the department. Charlie wouldn’t have been surprised if most of Abernathy’s vacation was spent spreading around résumés; in fact, he rather hoped that was the case.

Charlie was in charge for the next few days, so there was at least the possibility that he could get something rolling on Cody’s suspicions before Abernathy got back. The best way he could see to handle it was to turn the whole thing over to Protective Services. In Spearfish Lake, they were pretty good, even if they sometimes tried to make a mountain out of a molehill. In this case, that didn’t strike Charlie as a bad idea, especially knowing the Lufkins.

What Shelly Gestwite, the gal from Protective Services, would probably do would be to get Janice off by herself in a room at the high school and weasel enough out of her to get the kid out of the home. Then she would most likely turn the investigation of criminal activity back over to the department. If she moved quickly enough, and Charlie moved quickly enough, it could be a done deal before Abernathy returned. Still, he wondered how he would find out what had been going on; much would depend on how well Shelly was able to get usable facts out of Janice in the first place. Like most such issues, it promised to be a mess.

A couple of times Charlie gave some thought to just driving past the Lufkin house, although there wouldn’t be much that he could do unless something was obviously wrong as viewed from the street. Cody’s tip didn’t exactly rank as a complaint, after all, so there was a limited amount Charlie could do, especially with Abernathy reviewing the action. Although he wouldn’t have been surprised to find there had been trouble there, there wasn’t a lot he could do about it, so to keep temptation down he stayed out of that part of town.

Although things would be likely to perk up on Friday and Saturday nights, the streets of Spearfish Lake had pretty well been rolled up this evening. With the leaves off the trees, there was a spot on Central Avenue where Charlie could look out the windshield to the state road intersection, and in the rear view mirror back to the lake. He couldn’t see one car moving in the entire two-mile distance. He gave some thought to heading out to the Spearfish Lake Café at the intersection for a cup of coffee, just to help kill the time, and wondered if it was worth the drive. The café usually didn’t close till ten, but if things were slow they had been known to knock off earlier. Tonight, Charlie could believe that they would be slow.

Might as well drive out and see, he thought. It would kill a few minutes.

He’d just made that decision when a voice came over the radio, the first in an hour or so. “City Two, Dispatch,” Linda Halifax’s voice came over the radio. “Caller reports a shooting with two down at the Lufkin residence, shows as 454 Railroad.”

Oh, shit, he thought as he picked up the microphone. “Roger that,” he replied. “I’ll need backup, and you’d better roll an ambulance.”

“On the way, but it’ll be a few minutes,” Linda replied as Charlie lit the car up and did a U-turn to head back toward a cross street that would take him to Railroad. Jeez, he thought. Maybe Cody was right. He hoped some backup would be right along; it was dangerous to head alone into the scene of a known shooting, but if none was available, well, that was that. There was no one else on duty at the Spearfish Lake Police Department; there was a pretty good chance that the county only had one car on duty, and it could be anywhere – Spearfish County was a big one. That meant that the backup would probably come from someone who was off duty, city or county. The two departments were located right across Central Avenue from each other and had a long history of working together and backing each other up. Although the relationship had deteriorated under Abernathy’s reign, it was still in force.

It was pretty clear that he was going to have to check things out, backup or no backup. While the ambulance would roll, the policy was that they wouldn’t get into the area of a known shooting without law enforcement declaring the scene secure. That pretty well meant Charlie, at least until someone else showed up.

Charlie pushed the cruiser as hard as he dared down a quiet city street, braked heavily for the turn onto Railroad, and slid to a stop behind a familiar-looking Ford Escort with the trunk sitting open. Oh, shit, he thought. That looks like Cody’s! Don’t fucking tell me . . .

He looked around as he got out of the car. Things seemed peaceful, although the door to the Lufkin house was standing open. Moving quickly but carefully, he drew his Glock, moved up the sidewalk and onto the porch, trying to stay out of a direct line with the windows and the front door. Outside the door and out of sight, he called, “Police!”

“All clear, Charlie,” Cody’s voice replied loudly, but remarkably emotionless. “They’re dead.”

Still being careful, Charlie risked a peek around the door, to see Cody kneeling on the floor, holding onto an obviously hysterical Janice, with the bodies of Jack and Bobby Lufkin on either side of them. “It’s all right, Janice,” he said more soothingly toward the girl. “It’s going to be all right. They’re not coming after you any more. The police are here, I’m here, and you’re safe, now.”

Charlie kept his gun in his hand as he stepped into the room. He took a quick glance around to make sure that no one else was in the room and noticed the phone off the hook on an end table, with Cody’s familiar P226 sitting beside it, and the magazine pulled out of it. “Cody, what happened?” he asked.

“I shot them,” Cody said flatly. “I had to protect Janice.”

Oh, shit, Charlie thought again. This was going to be a mess and a half. “Is that your gun on the table?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Cody told him. “It’s empty, I took the clip out and ejected the shell in the chamber.”

“Cody, what happened?” Charlie asked again, deciding to put his gun back in the holster.

“Not now,” Cody replied. “Get some help for her. She needs it bad.” He turned his attention back to Janice, who was still shaking and in hysterics, as he tried to sooth her again and again by telling her that she was safe now, that they’d never come for her again.

“Oh. Right,” Charlie said, reaching for the microphone of his portable radio. “Dispatch, City Two,” he called. “Scene is secure, one injury, two 10-14s.”

While they waited for the ambulance and backup to arrive, Charlie didn’t learn a whole lot more, mostly as Cody was busy trying without much success to calm the still hysterical Janice. She was crying and blubbering, but Charlie was able to make out her saying several times, “Thank God you came. They were going to kill me!” Cody was trying to hold some cloth around her, a couch throw or something, and Charlie realized that she’d had most of her clothes torn off. He did what he could to calm her, but realized that Cody was managing about what could be done.

Charlie did take in a little more. There was no question in his mind that Jack and Bobby Lufkin were both dead; it didn’t take a close look to figure it out. Jack’s body was mostly on his back; there was a small hole in his face just above the bridge of his nose, but from what he could see in the puddle of blood and brains on the floor not a lot remained of the back of his head. Bobby lay face down, a couple feet away, one hand on the shotgun, but there was an ugly, gory hole in the back of his head as well. He couldn’t help but wonder why Cody had taken head shots, rather than center of mass. Oh, well, he’d ask when he got the chance.

It was only a couple minutes before Charlie was aware of a second set of flashing lights outside. He heard steps on the porch, and a familiar voice yell “Police!”

“All clear, scene is secure,” Charlie yelled back, and looked up as Spearfish County Sheriff Steve Stoneslinger came into the room, gun drawn. He was wearing his brown sheriff’s jacket pulled on over a flannel shirt and blue jeans – apparently he’d been watching TV or something when the call came in. The Sheriff got to take his car home with him, so apparently he’d come straight from his house.

“Everything safe, Charlie?” Stoneslinger asked.

“Pretty much,” Charlie replied.

“Looks like you got a mess here,” the sheriff observed as he put his pistol back in his holster.

“You could say that,” Charlie agreed, realizing that it was going to be a mess indeed. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He was that. With Abernathy out of town and not likely to be back for a while, this was going to fall in his lap. It would be good to have Stoneslinger backstopping him, and might help to protect him from second guessing from the chief when he returned. It would still happen, but it might not be as bad, as Steve Stoneslinger was one of the good ones.

“What happened?” the sheriff asked.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask about the details yet,” Charlie said softly, trying to not further upset the still hysterical girl. “But it looks like Cody found those two doing a number on her and stopped them. That’s his weapon, over by the phone,” he pointed.

“That’s damn good shooting,” Stoneslinger nodded.

“If anyone can do it, he can,” Charlie agreed. “He outshoots me at the range all the time.”

Stoneslinger shook his head. “That’s the Archer kid you’re bragging on all the time?” Charlie nodded, and the sheriff continued, “Is she his girlfriend?”

“He said no when we talked about her earlier tonight out at the range,” Charlie said. “He told me he suspected unreported abuse, and asked me to look into it. I was going to call Shelly about it in the morning.”

“Then what was he doing here, anyway?”

Charlie shrugged. “I haven’t been able to ask him about it yet. You see why.”

“Yeah, I guess,” the sheriff nodded. He noticed more flashing lights outside, and added, “Looks like the ambulance is here. I’ll go tell them the scene is clear.”

Once upon a time Spearfish Lake had a hospital – not a large one, but adequate for emergency needs. However, a dozen years before, rising health care costs and decreasing payouts from insurance companies had driven it into bankruptcy; there was nothing that could be done but close it. That made a lot of people uncomfortable, since the closest hospital was now Camden General, over sixty miles off.

The Spearfish Lake Fire Department had done what it could to fill the gap, by upgrading its vehicles, equipment, and training from Basic to Advanced Life Support, with paramedics riding with the EMTs. The department now had four fully licensed paramedics, the newest and youngest of whom was Randy Clark, the owner of Clark Construction, the largest construction company in the region. He’d made any number of runs to Camden with gravely ill or injured people, so was prepared to deal with what happened; other than the surroundings, he’d had to deal with people in worse shape than Janice Lufkin.

It was difficult for Randy and the other EMTs on the ambulance crews to even get Janice on the gurney, mostly because she was doing her best to cling to Cody. Even as they evaluated Janice, Cody continued to hold her hand. After the first look over, he didn’t like what he saw: the girl had been badly beaten and was bleeding heavily. She had an open airway but looked to be drifting into shock. “Rod,” he called to one of the EMTs, “Get on the horn, see if we can get a chopper up here from Camden.”

“Doubtful with this weather, but I can ask,” the older man replied, pulling out a radio and making a quick call while Randy and the others worked to at least slow her bleeding. They were a good crew and worked together well; they were getting Janice stabilized when County Dispatch called back and informed them that there would be no chopper – the weather was below minimums.

“I guess that means we’ll have to transport her ourselves,” Randy said. “Let’s get her prepped for transport.”

“Cody,” she cried. “Don’t leave me! I’m scared, come with me!”

“I think I have to stay here,” Cody said soothingly, though in mild protest. “This is Mr. Clark, Mrs. Clark’s husband, you know him. He can protect you as well as I can. Maybe better.”

Charlie had been standing back out of the way. By now there were more police officers around – the county car had made it in; Patrolman Fred Piwowar from the Spearfish Lake force, due to go on duty at midnight had come in early, along with a couple of part-time officers. They were staying back out of the way, mostly outside, where all the flashing lights had drawn quite a bit of neighborhood attention. There were things for Charlie to do, but dealing with the injured girl was first on the list. Now, he spoke up, “Randy, when you get a minute,” he said.

“Yeah, just a second, Charlie,” he said, and turned back to the girl. “OK, Rod, now up and around,” he told his partner. It was more like two or three minutes before Randy could get free and step over to the two policemen and the sheriff.

“How bad?” Charlie asked.

“Pretty bad,” Randy told them. “She ought to be all right, but she might not have made it if we hadn’t been called. There are some bad wounds and still may be internal damage we can’t see.”

“Can you take Fred down with you?” Charlie asked. “I really need to get a statement from her but I can see it’s useless now.”

“I can take him with me, but it might be a while before he can talk to her much,” Randy told him. “She’s probably going to be sedated for a while.”

“Go with them, Fred,” Charlie replied in an instant. “Don’t push her hard, but get what statement you can on the way down, and find out if there’s any chance of a real talk with her anytime soon. If there is, stay there and I’ll send someone down for you.”

A few minutes later the ambulance crew had Janice ready to take to Camden. Cody held her hand as far as the door, and told her to hang in there, that he’d see her as soon as he could. He stood at the door watching as the crew loaded her into the red and white ambulance. Fred Piwowar got in with them, and soon they were gone in a blaze of flashing lights. “Thank God,” Cody said, holding onto the door frame as his knees buckled under him. He slid to the floor, leaning up against the wall.

Charlie knelt down beside him. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” he breathed heavily. “Give me a minute. I had to stay strong for her.”

“Just relax,” Charlie told him. “You made it; you’re just having an adrenaline crash. Do you need anything?”

“No . . . I’ll be . . . all right,” he said. “Shit. I had to do it. I’m sorry, I had to do it. I had to stop them.”

“You could have called 911,” Charlie said gently.

“Tried to,” Cody managed to get out, as tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Battery’s dead. Damn it. My own damn fault.”

“Is she your girlfriend, son?” the sheriff asked.

“No,” Cody protested. “Charlie . . . you said . . . I was her only friend . . . I couldn’t . . . let her down.”

“Cody,” Charlie asked. “Why did you come here at all?”

“Had a feeling . . . something wasn’t right,” he replied. “Figured it . . . couldn’t hurt . . . to check.”

Charlie shook his head. He’d had similar feelings that something must be wrong – just the kind of hunch that cops get sometimes. But he’d decided not to follow up on it so it wouldn’t screw things up for Protective Services, and that was a mistake, he realized. A mistake that could have cost Janice her life.

“Leo,” Charlie said to the part-time Spearfish Lake policeman still there with him. “There’s some power drink in my car. Can you go get it for me?”

“Sure thing,” Leo said, turning toward the door.

“All right,” Charlie said. “Steve, help me get him out to the kitchen. I think we’ve screwed this scene up all we need to for now.”

The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was hardly spotless or immaculate. It was, in fact, a major mess. Charlie pulled out a chair from the kitchen table to give Cody a place to sit, just as Leo came in with the blue power drink. “Here,” Charlie said. “Have some of this. It’s got a good shot of sugar in it, it’ll perk you up.”

Charlie pulled out a notebook, then sat down across the corner of the table from Cody. He wrote in it a bit, to cover a few of the things Cody had said earlier, while he mentally flipped a nickel. Realistically, he ought to read the kid his rights, right on the spot, but he was a minor, so that complicated things. To make it more complicated, it seemed likely to Charlie that this was going to turn out to be a righteous shoot; it was clear that Bobby had at least been going for the shotgun, and perhaps Jack had been, too. That would turn it into clear-cut self-defense. He needed to have a better idea of what had happened, a reasonable statement from Janice, but it looked that way to him. To press ahead without reading the kid his rights would louse up any case that would be brought, but he wasn’t about to read him his rights and try to get his side of the story without a lawyer present, once again, especially since Cody was a minor. He liked Cody, liked him a lot, and whatever happened, this would screw up his life beyond belief.

And, on the third hand, he felt like he could get more out of the kid here, while it was still fresh. Oh, hell, he thought. Better do this by the book or Abernathy is going to be pissed. “Cody,” he said. “Does your family have a lawyer?”

Cody was calming down a little now. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I know Dad has Mr. Schindenwulfe do some work for him.”

“All right,” Charlie said. “I’m not going to ask you anything about what you did until I can get hold of your parents and him. But can you tell me what the two men you shot were doing to Janice?”

“Her dad was holding her down by the shoulders,” Cody said, his body shaking, “and Bobby . . . Bobby was raping her. She was screaming, and her dad was hitting her to try to shut her up.”

That was about what Charlie had been expecting, and it complicated things further. If he’d been the one to discover it, he probably would have wound up doing just about what Cody had done.

“Something smells,” Sheriff Stoneslinger said absently.

“No, sir,” Cody replied. “That’s what was happening.”

“I don’t mean what you said,” the sheriff said. “I mean, this house smells. It’s bad in the living room, and worse here.”

“You’re right,” Charlie nodded. “It really reeks in here.”

“I’ve smelled that before,” the Sheriff said, walking around and sniffing. He walked to a door that might have gone to the basement and opened it; the smell immediately became worse. “I wonder,” the sheriff said, pulling his pistol from his holster. He opened the door wide – it was indeed a basement – and turned on the light. Slowly and carefully, holding the pistol in front of him, he descended the stairs.

“Well, well, well,” they heard him say after a moment. “Charlie, you want to come here and see this.”

“Leo, stay with Cody,” Charlie said, and got up, heading for the stairs. He saw Stoneslinger standing at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head, with his gun back in his holster. He went right down the stairs; when his head descended below the floor joists, he saw a collection of drums and cans that he couldn’t identify. “What’s this?” he asked.

“You got your work cut out for you, Charlie,” Stoneslinger grinned. “It’s your basic meth lab.”

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