“He’s dead, Tuck.” Gabe’s words were cold and even. “He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Audrey realized most of the men were watching, listening, and their approval sounded clearly in the cold mountain air.

“Good.” “Got what he deserved.” “Drag him out of hell and kill him again.” “Teach him to screw with our pretty librarian.”

Tears burned her eyes as she realized no one blamed her. That they’d come, armed and ready to risk their lives…for her. Our librarian. Misty-eyed, she looked from man to man. Had she thought she didn’t belong?

“Thank you.” Her voice cracked but carried through the clearing. “Thank you all.”

Chapter Thirty-One

When a man bleeds to save your ass, you know you got no finer a friend. ~ First Sergeant Michael “Mako” Tyne

Gabe listened as a blue-grass trio played the classic “John Henry” song to an appreciative audience. The Lynx Lake Park bandstand was nothing fancy, just a two-foot high raised platform with a roof over it, but it served the purpose. Everywhere he looked were clusters of people, some at picnic tables, some on blankets on the grass. Bright coolers and picnic baskets added color. The early August Saturday evening was clear. At ten-thirty, the sun was starting to set. A breeze past the park’s pedestal grills brought the fading aromas of burgers, hot dogs, and salmon.

It’d been an interesting three-or-so weeks since what the townsfolk were calling “The Kidnapping.” Personally, he’d titled it the “clusterfuck of a day.” It’d be a long time before he got past the sight of Audrey getting shot. Falling.

He also remembered her sheer courage, the fury on her face, as she’d stood, firing bullet after bullet at Buzzcut. If she hadn’t diverted the man’s attention, Gabe would be dead.

Damn, she was something.

And his nightmares—and hers—would fade with time. The law enforcement, reporters, and everyone else in the known universe were finally gone. Aside from the trials awaiting the survivors on Spyros’s team and Baumer, life in Rescue had returned to normal.

In fact, he’d started interviewing people for Baumer’s old police officer post.

Strolling through the park, he greeted people, dodged children, and considered going back to the grill for another burger.

“Hey, Chief.”

At Uriah’s call, Gabe stopped. “Evening, you two.”

On a dark blue saddle blanket, Sarah and Uriah were enjoying their drinks while their daughter Rachel finished off a hot dog. Sarah tilted her head back. “So, Gabe. Are you enjoying the mini-fest?”

“I am.”

“I have a feeling the townsfolk will go for a bigger event next year,” Sarah said. “The entire atmosphere is more welcoming to tourists these days.”