Chapter 47 - The Executioner’s Bargain
Davenport stepped across the threshold, the rifle raised at low ready, eyes fixed on Arthur's throat.
"Stand away from him, Detective," Charles ordered, his breath billowing in the freezing air.
"You're out of jurisdiction, out of bullets, and out of time."
Vance did not step back.
Instead, the detective lunged forward, grabbing the rifle barrel with both hands and shoving it toward the ceiling.
A shot blasted through the cedar roof, showering them both with sparks and burning splinters.
Vance threw his shoulder into Davenport's chest, slamming the older man into the cast-iron woodstove.
The rifle clattered across the floor, spinning toward Arthur's feet.
Davenport snarled, pulling a serrated combat knife from beneath his poncho and slashing downward.
The blade caught Vance along his forearm, opening a deep, dark red line through his flannel shirt.
Vance grunted in pain, stumbling back against the wall as blood dripped onto the floorboards.
Arthur stared at the fallen rifle, his hands numb, his body trembling from the bone-deep chill.
Davenport raised the knife again, stepping toward Vance to deliver a lethal thrust.
"Arthur! The poker!" Vance roared, dodging the flashing blade by inches.
Beside the woodstove rested a heavy, forged-iron fireplace poker, its tip hooked and blackened by years of fire.
Arthur didn't think.
He grabbed the iron rod with both hands and lunged forward from the floor, putting every ounce of remaining strength into the swing.
The iron slammed into the side of Davenport's knee with a sickening crunch.
Davenport shrieked, collapsing sideways into the snow drifting through the open doorway.
Vance swept his boot forward, kicking the knife out into the dark.
Vance pinned Davenport's throat against the floor with the iron poker, his face inches from the bleeding lawyer.
"Where is she heading?" Vance demanded, pressing down until Davenport choked. "Where is Eleanor going?"
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Davenport gasped, clawing at the iron bar across his windpipe, eyes wide with terror.
"The lighthouse..." Davenport wheezed. "Ravenscliff... the cutter is waiting for her in the cove!"
