Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (book recommendations TXT) 📕

Despite the fact that John’s attention was diverted by his parents’ argument, he still held the gun aimed at her and was far too close for her to have any hope of his missing if he pulled the trigger. She patted the wall behind her, judging its thickness. In the ER, she’d taken care of civilians caught in the crossfire when bullets had gone through apartment walls. At this range even if a shot missed her, could it pass through to where Beth and the baby were hiding?

“Rachel,” the reverend said in a patronizing tone. “Don’t meddle in affairs you know nothing about. You can’t coddle the boy; he needs to take responsibility for his actions.”

“Maybe you two can take this outside,” Harper suggested.

They ignored her. “You push him too hard,” Rachel told the reverend. “Besides, you’re the one who knows nothing about it. John didn’t kill Spencer. I did.”

“You? No.” The reverend suddenly seemed smaller, taking a step away from his wife and sagging against the metal storage shelves.

“John and I went there to get the money John lost. Spencer was on the phone with you, ready to get into his SUV when he saw us. I couldn’t let him tell you what had happened, how John had lost all that money—there was no need for you to know since we were going to get it back anyway. I grabbed at Spencer’s arm as he was stepping up, climbing into the driver’s seat and it pulled him off balance. His feet went out from under him and he twisted and fell, hit his neck on the edge of the running board.” She grimaced. “There was a snapping noise and he didn’t move after that.”

Leah noted that Harper’s free hand was in her pocket and she wondered if the detective was recording her own mother’s confession. She wasn’t sure what to think about that, although she was certain Luka would approve. But she also saw that Harper didn’t have a clear shot—they needed to stall until Luka could arrive to help. “Did you know Spencer was still alive?” she asked Rachel.

The older woman flushed—with anger or shame, Leah wasn’t sure. “We had no choice. John put him back in the car and we let nature take its course. It was God’s will, that’s all.”

“God didn’t leave the car running or shut all the windows and doors,” Harper snapped. She edged past Rachel to focus on her brother. “Put the gun down, John. Now. Last warning.”

“Don’t you dare threaten your brother,” Rachel screeched, lunging and pushing Harper into the life-sized Magi. Harper stumbled and fell off balance, but quickly righted herself, putting her back to the nativity characters, facing her family and covering them all with her gun.

“You listen to me, Naomi Harper,” Rachel continued. “You’re going to go out there and tell the police that there’s no one here, that you have no idea where the girl is. Or better yet, send them on a wild goose chase, buy us some time.”

“I can’t do that. You just confessed to murder.”

“Fine, then arrest me. But it wasn’t murder, it was a mother protecting her son, remaining loyal to her family. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

A stricken look crossed Harper’s face as if her mother had physically slapped her. “Don’t make me choose. John, put down the gun and both of you come with me. Now.”

“Me?” John protested. “You can’t arrest me!” He whirled away from Leah to face his sister straight on, raising his gun.

Leah shoved his aim away from Harper, but he still pulled the trigger. The shot went wild, pinging against the metal shelves. She threw her weight on John’s arm, but he flung her away. Then Harper was there, twisting his wrist behind his back, until he dropped the gun into her hand and ended up on the floor, crying in pain.

“Now, stay down,” Harper told him as she handcuffed him.

“What have you done?” Rachel cried. Both Leah and Harper whirled away from John to see Rachel on her knees, cradling the reverend in her arms. “What was he thinking?” she said, tears streaming down her face. “He could have stopped you, saved John. But instead he jumped in front of a bullet. A bullet meant for you.” Her face contorted with hatred as she spit the words at Harper. “You made John shoot his own father. It’s all your fault!”

Forty-Six

Leah gently disentangled the distraught woman’s arms from where they’d wrapped around the reverend’s head. There was blood, a lot of it. But when Leah palpated his skull, a shard of blue metal rattled from the back of the reverend’s jacket onto the floor.

Not a bullet, a piece of shelving. And it hadn’t penetrated the skull, merely grazed it. Probably a ricochet. The real damage had been caused by Matthew’s fall—his head had hit the floor hard enough to stun him, possibly also causing a concussion. The reverend’s eyes blinked open, confirming her diagnosis.

His wife didn’t even notice. She lunged at Harper as Harper handcuffed her brother’s wrists and hauled him to his feet. “He did nothing wrong,” she screeched. “Arrest me, not him.”

Harper’s cold, expressionless stare stopped her mother in her tracks. “Believe me, we will.” Two ERT officers swarmed through the door and restrained Rachel.

“What the hell happened here?” Luka asked as he limped through the door behind them. He stood aside as the ERT men dragged John and Rachel out. They were quickly replaced by two more, crowding the doorway, guns still drawn.

“Rachel—” the reverend moaned. Then he slumped back. “My God, what have I done?”

“Stay still,” Leah told him in a soft voice. “You’ll be okay.”

“But, my son, my wife…” His voice trailed off.

Harper opened the hidden door and beckoned for Beth to come out. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. Dr. Wright is here to look after your baby.”

Beth emerged, her eyes wide with fear, face ashen as she clutched her baby to her chest. Leah left the reverend