Stranded

storm. And Jack giving them a chance to run? There was no way she could find her way through the forest with Tully barely able to walk.
    Suddenly she felt Tully yank at his own zipper, helping her, not wanting her to stop. His head lolled with his chin to his chest. No words. A slight groan as she lifted and peeled the jacket off. She was able to tear away his polo shirt. And then she got a good look at the damage and she fought a wave of nausea. She had seen plenty of bullet wounds but usually on dead bodies that no longer required her help.
    The hole still oozed dark blood that had the thickness of motoroil. The tissue around the rim of the wound was red and angry. Though she initially thought he had been shot in the heart, the bullet had hit much higher. It looked like it had gone all the way through his shoulder. She reached behind him and fingered the exit wound. He winced and stiffened.
    Was it good or bad that the bullet had exited?
    She started cleaning it, first with the water.
    “You need to leave me,” Tully said, so softly she barely heard him.
    Maggie glanced back and was glad to see Otis and Jack busy opening cans and packages, hungry and not interested. The thunder was a constant rumble. If she had a hard time hearing him, then so would Jack and Otis. Still, she leaned close.
    “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
    “Leave me,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let him kill us both.”
    “It wouldn’t matter because if I left you behind,
Gwen
would kill me.”
    She thought she saw a hint of a smile.
    She held up the whiskey bottle for him to see. Then she ran a thumbnail through the seal and leaned close to him again. “This is going to hurt like hell.”
    He surprised her by putting out his hand for the bottle and she gave it to him. He took a long swallow. He handed it back and said, “Let’s do it.”
    She wet down the towel with the whiskey but then remembered and whispered to him, “Do you still have those pills in your pocket?”
    He gave a slight nod.
    The antibiotics for his sinus infection might not be strongenough to battle this infection but it was worth a try, even if she had him take all that was left.
    With his free hand he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the plastic ziplock bag. With it came a pen and he handed her both. It took her a few seconds to realize that it was the one Gwen had given him. His James Bond pen.
    She felt a hollow emptiness. Cool as the pen was, an X-Acto blade, a light beam, and a screwdriver wouldn’t do them much good. And neither would the nifty GPS without being able to report the coordinates. When she looked at Tully she saw a flicker of despair, and she knew that he realized all that, too.

CHAPTER 65

    QUANTICO, VIRGINIA
    “Otis could not have done this on his own,” Gwen insisted. “I am not defending him, I’m just saying, how would that be possible?”
    “He could have managed to get one of the trooper’s service revolvers,” Kunze said as he paced the conference room.
    “But he hasn’t ever hurt anyone before. He’s gone to great lengths to
not
hurt people every time he’s set a fire.”
    “His juvenile records are sealed,” Alonzo told them without looking up from his laptop. His fingers continued to tap. “There was a reason he was sent to Boys Town, I just can’t access it.”
    “He certainly didn’t kill the tattooed biker in the barn,” Racine said. “Or the woman they found in the black garbage bag. He couldn’t have killed Gloria Dobson and Zach Lester either. He was already in prison.”
    “Those had to be his friend Jack,” Keith Ganza agreed. “Jack was there today. He planned this ambush.”
    “But who the hell is Jack?” Kunze yelled and the entire room went silent. Even Alonzo’s fingers quieted.
    Gwen finally breached the tension. “Agent Alonzo, you said this couple took care of other troubled boys.”
    “That’s right. Boys and a few girls. Dozens of them over the course of three decades.”
    “Is there any way to get those names? Or are they classified?”
    Alonzo saw where she was going. “I’ll find out.” And his fingers got back to work.
    Kunze had stopped his pacing and now he stood at the end of the table, his eyes on her.
    “I’m sorry, Dr. Patterson.” He looked genuinely remorseful. “I should have never allowed you to be on this task force when two people you care about are involved.”
    “You don’t owe me an apology. I had