Her Last Breath: A Kate Burkholder Novel

just inside the French door. Not trusting my legs, I lean heavily against the desk, holster my .38.
    “Nobody move.” I’d intended the words as a command, but they’re little more than a whisper. “Don’t move.”
    On the wall next to the ruined door, I see a wash of headlights and the flashing red and blue strobes from T.J.’s cruiser. I choke out a sound; I don’t know if it’s a sob or a laugh of irony because even though no one was killed here tonight, he’s too late to save any of us.
    In the dim light I see Armitage lying on the floor, looking at me, his hands still secure behind his back. “I’ve been shot,” he croaks.
    I see blood on his shirt, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. I don’t go to help him. I’m not sure I can move, even if I wanted to. My arms and legs are shaking violently. I can feel my heart pulsing in my throat. The pound of it making me dizzy. I stumble to the light switch by the door, flip it on. Stark light rains down. Glass and bits of wood from the French doors cover the floor. The shattered lamp lies in pieces next to the desk. Drops of blood from my injured hand glitter like tar against the hardwood floor. The shotgun lies just inside the French doors. I see Mattie standing on the deck outside, unmoving, looking like the dazed survivor of some natural disaster.
    Using the desktop for support, I start toward her. Glass crunches beneath my boots as I cross to the door. I open it, step onto the deck. “Mattie.”
    Slowly, she turns to me. Her face is pale. Eyes that had once been so lovely and full of mischief are cruel and level on me.
    I know better than to feel anything at this moment, especially for a woman who doesn’t deserve compassion, least of all mine. But some emotions are so powerful, some losses so profound, that they can’t be stubbed out by logic or will. My brain orders me to go through the motions and do my job. Cuff her. Make the arrest. Be done with it.
    Since I used my cuffs to secure Armitage’s hands, I tug the zip ties from my belt. “Turn around and give me your wrists,” I tell her.
    When she doesn’t move, I reach out, turn her around, and slip the ties around her wrists, pull them tight. It doesn’t elude me that while my hands are shaking, hers are rock steady.
    Once the ties are in place, I turn her to me. “Where’s David?” I ask.
    She looks at me, but there’s nothing behind her eyes. It’s like looking into the face of a mannequin and expecting to see life. “I had to do it,” she says. “He wasn’t supposed to live, you know. He was the only one left who knew.”
    Using my forearm, I push her against the wall, hold her in place. “What did you do?”
    “Chief?”
    The sound of T.J.’s voice spins me around. He’s standing at the door, his .38 in his hand. “You okay?” He starts toward me, his eyes flicking from me to Armitage to Mattie. “What happened?”
    “Get someone out to the Borntrager farm,” I tell him. “Fast. I think she hurt the boy. Ambulance, too. Hurry. ”
    Never taking his eyes from mine, he hits his lapel mike and puts out the call. When he’s finished, he crosses to me. “What the hell happened?”
    Somehow I get the words out. It’s as if someone else is speaking them. Someone stronger than me. Someone who isn’t coming apart on the inside.
    The radio cracks to life as the call goes out and I know every cop on duty within a ten-mile radius is making tracks to the Borntrager farm.
    “I need to get out there. Check on the boy.” I start toward the door only to realize I don’t have a vehicle.
    “No offense, Chief, but you’re looking a little shaky on your feet.”
    He’s right. I don’t know if it’s from my ordeal in the water, the alcohol that was injected into my bloodstream, or the shock of learning my childhood friend is a monster, but I’m shaken and dizzy. That’s not to mention the shard of wood sticking out of my hand, which is starting to hurt in earnest now that my adrenaline has ebbed. But I’m worried about David. I can’t help but think of all the terrible things that could have happened to him.
    T.J. squats next to Armitage and begins checking him for weapons. I turn toward Mattie. She’s looking at me, as if trying to figure out how to work the situation to her advantage, how to play me. Never taking my gaze from hers, I place her under arrest. She remains silent as I Mirandize her. “Do you understand your rights?”
    Before she can reply, a