"What's he doing here?" he demanded, clearly identifying Jude as Mason from the 7-Eleven.
"You killed him!" I exclaimed in breathless horror.
"He's not dead." Calvin nudged his foot into Jude's rib cage. "I didn't aim to kill. And I used a small-grain bullet to minimize the damage. But this is that guy from the gas station. Your boyfriend. What's he doing here?"
"You-shot him,” I stammered, my mind still reeling.
"'Him' meaning Ace, short for Mason, got it. Mason, the guy who abducted you and who now has my map. I take it he's not really your boyfriend?" he commented dryly.
"If we don't do something, he's going to bleed to death!"
"Quiet or you'll wake Korbie,” Calvin chided me, walking a slow circle around Jude's body, keeping the gun trained on him as he did. "He's in shock. Help me tie him up before he comes around."
"Tie him up? He needs a hospital!"
"We have to keep him detained until we're able to contact the police. We're making a citizen's arrest. Once he's tied up, I'll treat his injury. Don't look so scared. What's the worst that could happen?"
"He could die."
"Would that really be so bad?" Calvin continued, in a mild voice that struck me as far too calm, even for Calvin. "He left Korbie in a cabin to die, and he forced you to guide him through the freezing mountains. You nearly died, Britt. And now we have evidence proving he killed a girl last year. Look at him. He's not a victim; he's a murderer. He forced his way inside the cabin tonight with the intent to kill you, and probably me and Korbie too. I shot him in self-defense.”
”Self-defense?" I echoed, shaking my head in bewilderment. "He wasn't armed. And we don't know for sure he was trying to kill us."
But Calvin wasn't listening. "Go to the garage and bring me the rope. It's on a shelf to the left of the door. We have to restrain him before he becomes conscious."
I saw the logic in Calvin's plan, but my feet stayed rooted to the spot. I couldn't bring myself to tie Jude up who appeared near death. The blood had drained from his face, which reflected more ghost than man. Were it not for his short, shallow breaths, he would have looked at home in a coffin.
I tried to sway myself to Calvin's line of thinking-Jude deserved this-but my heart kept holding me back. What if he did die? He didn't deserve that. The idea of him gone forever slashed me to pieces. Jude was right. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and taken off. I had questions, so many questions, and now I might never get answers. I couldn't believe this might be the end to our story. We'd never had a chance to set things right, to come to an understanding.
Calvin paused in his inspection of Jude long enough to look across the room at me with an expression of exaggerated patience. "The rope, Britt."
I left the room, shaking.
Calvin was right. I couldn't be emotional about this. We had to arrest Jude.
In the garage, I stretched up on my toes to pull the rope off the highest shelf. I hesitated, once again wondering if it was really necessary to tie Jude up. It wasn't like he could run off. As I fiddled with the rope in my hands, I saw a rust-brown stain matted into the fibers. Blood. I wrinkled my nose, wondering if Calvin had used the rope previously during a hunting expedition. The dried blood flaked off under my fingernail. Was it sanitary enough for tying a man with an open wound?
I put the rope back on the shelf and grabbed another one from behind it. After a quick check, I determined that though dusty, it was cleaner than the first.
Upstairs, Calvin had closed the bedroom door. I opened it, and was immediately overwhelmed by the sour stench of fresh blood. Calvin had thrown a few towels on the floor to keep from slipping on it, and had managed to haul Jude onto the bed, where the sheets were already darkening with red.
Reluctantly, I handed him the rope.
Calvin searched hastily through Jude's pockets for weapons. Finding nothing, he knotted Jude's wrists to the posts of the headboard. He repeated the maneuver, securing Jude's ankles to the footboard. Jude lay stretched in the star formation of an eighteenth-century prisoner about to be drawn and quartered.
"Now what?"I asked, trying to quell the sickening wave inside me.
"I stop the bleeding and we wait for him to wake up."
Not a half hour later, a loud, cursing growl stirred me from where I dozed on the living room sofa with my head in Calvin's lap. I didn't remember slouching sideways onto him, but I must have, because not a moment after the pained swearing carried down from the bedroom at the top of the stairs, Calvin jumped to his feet, depositing me roughly on the leather couch cushion.
He was already striding toward the stairs. "Don't come up,” he told me, tossing a warning glance over his shoulder. "I want to talk to him alone."
There was an edge to Calvin's voice that made me shift uneasily. If he roughed up Jude, it wouldn't look good when the police arrived. And they would arrive. Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow. With luck, the sun would melt the snow on the roads enough that we could go for help.
I knew Calvin wouldn't like it if I second-guessed him, but he wasn't thinking logically. His anger had obviously taken control. He'd killed Shaun, and I was scared he'd do the same to Jude. He couldn't cover up both murders. The fact that he was acting like he could, only proved he was in over his head. I had to help him step back and think clearly.
"Calvin,” I said. "Don't touch him."
Calvin halted on the stairs, squinting down at me with his jaw clamped fiercely. He held himself so rigidly, he reminded me of chiseled stone. "He hurt my sister. And he hurt you."
"He didn't hurt me."
Calvin scoffed. "Are you hearing yourself? He kidnapped you. He marched you through the freezing mountains like a prisoner."
How was I supposed to convince Calvin-without sounding brainwashed-that Jude had saved my life? Jude had treated me humanely. He'd promised to help me to Idlewilde, when it would have been easier for him to leave me to freeze in the woods and make his own escape. Even after I'd given him the map, he'd stayed with me. If I hadn't run off, he would have stayed with me to the end, I was sure of it.
"Stay out of this,” Calvin said. "You've been through a lot, and you're not thinking clearly."
"I've been through a lot, Calvin,” I said, jabbing a finger at my chest. "I know what happened out there on the mountain. And I'm asking you to leave him alone. Let the police deal with him." He studied me with his head cocked slightly to one side, baffled.
"Why are you protecting him?"