Atonement Read Free

he posed, ready to write. “Deputy Rivers, we’re recording this as we go. You’re well aware of your rights to have legal representation, and at any time you feel the need to ask for someone to come in, we’ll stop and wait.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Okay”—the attorney scribbled something on his pad—“take us through what happened out there today at the Walker residence.”
    O’Hanlon studied her as she retold her side, probably looking for the hiccups in her presentation or maybe a particular facial expression she might have when she came to a particular part. But she knew all the signs of someone poised to rip apart her words. The three NCIS investigators had done it to her after her last mission, and they’d shredded her to bits, leaving her nothing but a liability and a burden. She pushed those dark days aside and focused on the present. O’Hanlon didn’t seem to pick up that her mind wandered while her story didn’t.
    When she finished, she focused on the attorney.
    “Deputy, why did the sheriff choose you to take the shooting position? Especially when there were other deputies on hand?” the attorney asked.
    A muscle in Nic’s lower back twitched. “Excuse me, sir, but have you seen my dossier?”
    The attorney picked up a sheaf of papers, then set them down on the desk. “Right here.”
    “Then you know that I was a sniper in the Marine Corps, correct?”
    “So it says.”
    Heat filled her face. Either he was mocking her, or the man seriously doubted her capabilities. Tamping down her temper, Nic clenched her fingers. She’d squared off against this kind of sexism when she made it into the ranks of US Marine snipers and fought it off as she silenced every man stupid enough to want a shoot-out against her.
    “If I were to hazard a guess as to why the sheriff chose me, a highly trained sniper, to take a shooting position, it might be because there was no one else there to do it. As to why the other deputies were not called on to do the deed is simple. One is a greenhorn to this job. The other was a family member of the deceased who was told to remove himself from the situation.”
    “We have well-trained SWAT members in the Eider city police, Deputy Rivers,” O’Hanlon said.
    Her gaze slid to him, resisting the urge to show that the sardonic smile was playing havoc on her. “I believe the sheriff asked for assistance from Eider PD, and they were on the way. But the situation had escalated to the point we couldn’t wait.”
    “And”—O’Hanlon shifted out of his relaxed position and placed his elbows on the desktop, leaning against it—“you just happened to have your rifle handy?”
    “I always have my rifle handy. It goes with me every time I’m in the squad car. Just because I’m not in the Corps any more doesn’t mean my skills aren’t needed on my new job, Detective. Had I not been there? Had I not been trained as a sniper to take down threats in deadly situations, those children would be joining their mother.” She peered at the attorney. “And that, sir, is why the sheriff chose me to shoot. To save those kids’ lives. If I had a single regret, it would be that it wasn’t in time to save their mother.”
    • • •
    The Priest watched the muted scenes play across the TV screen. Yellow crime tape fluttered behind a male reporter and beyond that, the darkened home where tragedy struck. He rolled the rosary beads between the fingers of his right hand and tapped the armrest with his left. The image flashed to earlier footage of the home after the cops swarmed the place. The scene of the Walker family hostage situation ended in two deaths.
    Peace filtered into his system at the sight. The family had been cleansed, the wife paid for her sins, and her husband was free of his guilt. Atonement.
    But not fully. The children were still alive, and the husband hadn’t died by his own hand.
    The image on the TV switched to a full view of the McIntire Sheriff’s Department. The