Table of Contents

1. Title Page

2. Copyright

3. Dedication

4. Chapter One - Occupational Hazard

5. Chapter Two - Twilight Ride Through the Plains

6. Chapter Three - We Don't Want Any Trouble

7. Chapter Four - The Interrogation

8. Chapter Five - Outsiders

9. Chapter Six - If You Never Ask, the Answer is Always No

10. Chapter Seven - Chasing Ghosts

11. Chapter Eight - Coffee with a Side of Trouble

12. Chapter Nine - Don't Let Your Imagination Get the Best of You

13. Chapter Ten - A Special Kind of Hell

14. Chapter Eleven - You Need to Be More Careful...

15. Chapter Twelve - Don't Question Your Instinct

16. Chapter Thirteen - A Uniquely Kansas View

17. Chapter Fourteen - Cacophony

18. Chapter Fifteen - Be Discreet

19. Chapter Sixteen - Intruder

20. Chapter Seventeen - It's a Date

21. Chapter Eighteen - The Kind of Trouble You Bring

22. Chapter Nineteen - Knight in Shining Armor

23. Chapter Twenty - All Good Things

24. Chapter Twenty-One - Truce

25. Chapter Twenty-Two - Night of the Hunter

26. Chapter Twenty-Three - How Much Can You Get For a Clean Conscience

27. Chapter Twenty-Four - Unexpected Visitor

28. Chapter Twenty-Five - Expendable

29. Chapter Twenty-Six - Decompress

30. Chapter Twenty-Seven - Everything is a Nail

31. Chapter Twenty-Eight - Death is a Delicate Art

32. Chapter Twenty-Nine - Desperation

33. Chapter Thirty - On the Road Again

34. Free Thriller Ebook-1

35. Tears of the Dragon

36. The Osiris Initiative

37. About the Author

The Delicate Art of Death

Ryan McGinnis

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text Copyright © 2023 by Ryan McGinnis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, email us at info@ryan-mcginnis.com.

ryan-mcginnis.com

To Amber, without whom I wouldn’t be doing any of this.

CHAPTER ONE

Occupational Hazard

"OKAY, STACY, THIS might sting a bit. Let me know if you feel anything." I nodded absentmindedly as the technician continued their work. I was impressed with the Clarion Burn Institute and the techniques they implemented. The techs were always so pleasant. Despite the pleasantries, the early treatments had been painful. But as a result, my recovery had been nothing short of miraculous. In the early going, it was tedious work, first fighting off infection, then working on speeding up the healing process, but they had done a remarkable job. Now, three weeks later, I was amazed at the progress. While I was far from healed, I was functional. This place was worth every bit of the money that the Citadel was paying them. My pulse sped up as I thought about the Citadel. My journey over the last several years had been strange and started with a year-long investigation into them. By the time it was over, I had fought side by side with them in a chaotic showdown that resulted in second and third-degree burns on both my back and side.

"If you don't mind me asking," started the technician. "What did you do to get burnt like this?"

It was a typical question. All of the technicians asked sooner or later. In my mind, I could see the leering face of that awful man, Gustav Heimler. I remembered vividly as he pushed me against the red-hot piping, my flesh sizzling as he did. I fought back, and the same piping turned half his face into a horror show. Most of all, I remembered that horrible face as it leered at me in a permanent death mask after being shot by his own gun. I shivered subconsciously. It was strong enough that the technician paused her work.

I glanced over my shoulder at her, "It was an occupational hazard."

The tech nodded, "Well, I hope you were well compensated."

I nodded as she went back to work. That was my big issue. I agreed I deserved compensation but didn't want to accept it from them. Jeremy Irons, the Citadel bigwig in charge of the cleanup at Axion, offered me a job on the spot. When I refused, he offered to pay for my treatment at a clinic they had a relationship with. The only reason I allowed that was because I knew I needed medical treatment, and with no insurance, I would take any help I could get. Finally, he gave me an envelope containing a debit card and PIN number. That envelope had stayed in my bag, but I never opened it. It was bad enough I allowed them to provide me with medical assistance. With the Citadel, nothing was ever free. I hadn't spent a year investigating them just to be pulled into their fold.

The technician finished up, and I got dressed, pausing long enough to assess the damage in the mirror. I definitely wasn't ready for swimsuit season. Both my arm and back had vastly improved in the several weeks since the treatment started. Still, it would be a while, maybe forever, before I was comfortable with their appearance. I put on the baggy hoodie that had become my garment of choice and headed for the door.

On my way to the car, I heard a voice over my shoulder.

"Hey! Hey!"

I turned to see a couple of guys approaching me. Subconsciously, my hand touched the handle of the knife I kept in my pocket. I recognized the one guy from the clinic. He was in the waiting room when I arrived. He was skinny and wore a jeans jacket and a black band t-shirt. His friend was balding with a straggly beard spilling over an oversized flannel shirt. They must have sensed my tension because they wisely stopped several feet away from me.

"Hey, easy. It's okay." They said as they eyed me like someone would a rattlesnake that was too close.

I glanced back and forth at them, "So, what do you want?"

The smaller of the two glanced at his partner and then back at me. "You're her, aren't you? Stacy Martinez?"

My eyes narrowed, "Yeah, do I know you?"

The man's eyes lit up as he slapped his friend on the shoulder. "See? I told you it was her! I recognized you from the news!" Turning to his friend, he continued, "She's the one I told you about! She quit the FBI because she got too close to the truth, and they wanted her to stop."

"Look, I don't know what you heard, but I'm sure it's mostly bullshit." I rolled my eyes. Jesus, not another one of these guys. I swear someday I'm going to dye my hair blonde to escape this.

"Wait, don't go!" Implored the man as I turned to walk away.

"We're on your side. I'm Jeff, and this is Stan. We know all about the secret world order and how they pull the strings. We think it's so cool that you took a stand against them. So what if the news says you're a nut. It's just because they want to discredit you. They don't want the truth to get out."

I turned to face the two men, who stumbled over themselves to back away from me. "Look, guys, I know you mean well, and I appreciate it. Whatever you think you know, you don't know shit. Do yourself a favor and go home."

They looked at each other with dejected looks before Jeff spoke up, "Okay, fine. We can take a hint. But can I ask you one thing before you go?"

I nodded. Jeff proceeded to pull a piece of newspaper from his jacket pocket. "Can you sign this?"

I glanced at the newspaper. It was from almost two years ago. The heading read 'FBI Agents Involved in Terror Plot' in big letters above the staff photos of myself and my old partner, Bill Logan.

I felt my skin flush as my temper exploded. "You've got to be kidding me?? If you know what's good for you, you'll get the hell out of here!" I screamed as I snatched the paper from his hand.

He and his friend turned and ran across the parking lot away from me. I looked down at my picture on the front of the paper before crumpling it into a ball. I shook my head and sighed as I walked to my Dodge Charger, tossing the newspaper in a trash can I passed along the way. They had no idea what I had been through the last few years. I could barely process it myself. The big question was, what do I do now?

CHAPTER TWO

Twilight Ride Through the Plains

THE HIGHWAY STRETCHED to the horizon as the Dodge Charger’s engine rumbled. My brief encounter with its previous owner in Georgia was part of the catalyst that led me to where I am now. I shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat as I drove. Despite the clinic’s work, nothing could keep my back comfortable for long, no matter how soft the leather was. Outside my windshield, the Midwest sky tried to take my mind off my back. Light blues mixed with purples before settling into the deep blue of a coming night.

I glanced at the GPS, another five hours to go. It had been six long years since I saw my sister, Angela. She married young and moved to Jackson, KS, with her husband, while I joined the FBI and went in the opposite direction. I stopped by once to meet my niece, but she was four years old by the time I did. Who does that kind of thing? Your sister has a baby, and it takes you four years to catch up with her? Even when her husband passed away a year later, the best I could do was make a phone call. I shifted in my seat, trying to squirm from under the uncomfortable truths I’d dredged up. After my partner and I ended up on the evening news, she reached out. Since then, we have fallen into the habit of calling or texting occasionally. Enough so that I felt comfortable asking if I could come to visit. After almost two years of living on the road, I needed to recharge. She was reluctant, and I couldn’t blame her. She understood that the news story was a mix-up, but she also knew what kind of work I did, which worried her. I swore to her that it was safe and I wasn’t in trouble. At least none that I knew of.

Trouble was a relative term in my world. My gaze fell on the black duffle bag on my passenger floorboard. It was an unassuming duffle bag, but its contents were another story. During my investigation into the Citadel, I discovered a network of safe houses and PO boxes that they used to keep their agents funded and cared for. During the confusion caused by their war with Axion, I had raided several of the PO Boxes. As far as I knew, no one had discovered the missing money, or if they had, they probably assumed it was Axion. At least, I hoped so. And, while it was a good amount of money, it was starting to run out. All the better reason to lay low with Angela and her daughter for a while. I needed time to figure out where I went from here.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I smiled as I saw the name of my ex-partner, Bill Logan, on the screen.

“Bill, how’s life on the farm?”

I heard Bill’s familiar laugh on the other end. When he laughed, which was often, Bill laughed with his whole being.

“Now, for starters, it’s a ranch, not a farm. I mean, currently, it’s just a cabin with a lot of land, so technically not even a ranch. It’s good to hear your voice, Stacy.”

“You too, cowboy. How are things up in Montana?”

“Quiet, which is how I prefer it. Lately though, I’ve been a little antsy, to tell the truth. As bad as it sounds, all the stuff we went through at Axion re-invigorated me. I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. I mean, other than the aches and pains. Speaking of which, how are you?”

I sighed to myself. It was amazing how much talking to Bill helped calm my nerves. “I’m good. The Citadel hooked me up with an excellent burn clinic. My wounds are sore but have improved dramatically over the last few weeks.”

“That’s great to hear! I was actually surprised you let them help you.”

“I don’t have insurance, so beggars can’t be choosers. I’m not entirely comfortable with it, but Jeremy swore there were no strings attached.”

“Well, I’m glad they are taking care of you. You know, you should come up and check out the cabin sometime. The wide open space would do wonders for you.”

I smiled at the thought of spending some time at Bill’s cabin. “That sounds great, Bill. I’ll take you up on that. Speaking of wide open spaces, I’m heading to Kansas to visit my sister.”

“Angela? That’s great! So I guess you guys are talking again?”

“Yeah, things are better than they used to be, that’s for sure.”

“Speaking of which, Stacy, I wanted to apologize for how I treated you when you quit. If I was weird or distant-“

“Knock it off, Bill. We’ve said all we needed to say on that subject. You and I are good, I promise. After everything we’ve been through with the Citadel, Axion, and Devos, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Stacy, that means a lot.”

“It’s no problem. And I mean it; I’ll take you up on that invitation as soon as I finish visiting with my sister, I promise.”

“Sounds good. Take care, Stacy.”

“You too, Bill.”

I tossed my phone back onto the center console as I glanced in my rearview again. The last few minutes, while talking to Bill, something was nagging at me. In the distance was a black sedan. It had been in my rearview mirror for a while, off in the distance. Maybe all these thoughts about the money made me paranoid, but something about the car bothered me. I slowed down, but the vehicle gained no ground on me. Were they matching my speed? A road sign advertised a truck plaza two miles ahead. Perfect. They were well-lit and usually pretty busy.

I shifted the car into the right-hand lane and watched the lights of the plaza in the distance. As I sped up slightly, the car in my rearview continued to keep its distance, neither gaining nor losing ground. Just as I was about to pass the exit ramp, I slammed on brakes, the Charger’s tires squealing in protest, and shifted all the way across the lanes of traffic and onto the ramp. As I coasted, the black car shot past me. The dimming light of the dying sunset didn’t allow me to look at the driver as the car disappeared into the coming night. I pulled into a space and put the car in park. I rested my head on the steering wheel for a few moments before rubbing my tired eyes with the back of my hand. What was that? If Bill could see me now, avoiding imaginary enemies driving down the interstate. God, I needed a rest. I sat and allowed my nerves to steady as I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror. The bloodshot eyes that stared back at me told me all I needed to know. I needed to get my shit together before arriving at my sister’s place.

CHAPTER THREE

We Don't Want Any Trouble

THE SUN BEAMED in my rearview mirror as I approached Jackson, Kansas. Last night I pulled off and slept at a rest area, getting as comfortable a night's sleep as I could in the driver's seat of the Charger. This morning I visited a rest stop to freshen up before heading to my sister's place. I pulled my shades down and glanced at the slightly less bloodshot eyes. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

My sister lived in a modest, two-story brick townhome across the road from a small park on the edge of town. They all recently had a fresh coat of paint, and the park was well kept up, with a couple swing sets, picnic tables, and a small playground. It looked like a slice of domestic bliss, midwest style. After parking, I grabbed my duffle bag and made my way up the sidewalk toward her place. It's funny. Lately, I'd dealt with international terrorists, assassins, and madmen, but my heart hadn't fluttered like it did now. What was it about seeing family that made me feel so vulnerable? I finally approached her door, the brass number 1306 shining above the frame. I knocked and waited. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and my sister stepped out. She wore a green pair of scrubs that indicated she had either just gotten off or needed to go to work relatively soon. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun.

"Stacy! How long has it been?" she said as she gave me one of those piercing Martinez gazes that the women of my family perfected long ago.

I shrugged, "Too long, sis, too long."

Angela looked me up and down before shaking her head. "You look like shit."

I squirmed uncomfortably inside as my younger sister stared me down. Finally, she let out a suppressed chuckle.

I grinned, relieved, as I watched a smile form on my sister's face. "Yeah, I mean, honestly, I do." I agreed.

Angela stepped forward and gave me a brief hug before pulling back. Her hand lingered on my shoulder.

"How have you been?" She asked before noticing the bandage sticking out of my shirt. "Oh shit, sorry. I forgot you said you were injured."

I waved her off. "Don't worry about it. The clinic did wonders for it. I think I'm well on my way to healing."

She nodded. "So, are you okay after all that? I know you had already been through a lot with all the mix-up and leaving the Bureau."

Her voice trailed off, and I saw the unsteadiness in her eyes. "No, I'm fine, I think. Banged up physically, but the doctors say I'll be good as new in no time."

Her brow furrowed. "I didn't mean physically. Stacy, you've been through a lot, mentally. I read all the time about people having PTSD from going through less traumatic things than you've seen."

I pulled off my sunglasses and looked her in the eye. "I told you I'm fine, and I meant it. I've been through a lot, but if you've forgotten, your big sister is one tough cookie."

Angela raised her eyebrows, staring into my tired eyes as she did. "Oh, I remember. But I also remember how much trouble you used to get into." She shook her head and stared at the ground for a moment. "Stacy, I just want to make sure we're safe. Olivia means the world to me; she's all I have. I can't let anything happen to her."

I shook my head in frustration as I felt my cheeks flush; maybe this wasn't a good idea. I didn't think about the fact that my own sister would be worried that I would endanger them.

"No, everything is fine. I'm fine."

Angela gestured toward my bandage. "That doesn't look fine."

I shook my head again, from frustration and hoping to shake the right words out. "It's nothing. I got burnt pretty bad while I was on an assignment, okay? It's not a big deal. All of that is over, and you're perfectly safe. If I thought there was any chance of danger, I wouldn't have come."

Angela's eyes darkened as she stared a hole straight through me. "You may think so, but what am I supposed to think? You show up looking like you haven't slept in who knows how long with bandages sticking out of your shirt. Then, you talk about your assignment. What kind of assignment? And for who, considering you don't work at the Bureau anymore?"

I look away, wanting to de-escalate the situation. My sister had the same temper as I had. The same fiery disposition all women in our family had. My Dad used to say a man had to be fireproof to withstand a Martinez woman. As I continued looking down the block, trying to figure out the right words to say, I heard tiny feet scampering toward me.

"Aunt Stacy! Aunt Stacy!"

The little dynamo that was my niece sprang out the door past her mother and grabbed my hand. Before Angela could protest, Olivia dragged me past her and into the townhome. I shrugged at my sister as a look of frustration crossed her face.

Olivia grasped both of my hands now. "Aunt Stacy, would you like to have tea with me?"

I looked down into her auburn eyes, her black hair pulled back with pink berets.

"Of course, I would! You run along and get it ready, and I'll be right there!"

Olivia giggled with delight and ran up the stairs. After she was out of sight, I turned back to Angela.

"Don't worry. Everything is fine. There won't be any trouble. I just need to rest and recoup for a week or so. You're right, I've been through a lot, but all I need now is peace and quiet."

Almost on cue, Olivia screamed from upstairs that she was ready. Angela shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, I hope so. Although, I don't know how much 'peace and quiet' you'll get around Olivia."

Angela led me upstairs to the front room. It was a modest bedroom with a dresser and a small bed. I walked to the window, which overlooked the park.

"God, this is a great view."

Angela walked up behind me, "Yeah, that's one thing I'll give Kansas; the views go on forever."

Olivia bounded into the room behind us. "Come on, Aunt Stacy, we shouldn't keep the tea party waiting."

I turned and threw my duffle bag down on the bed. Olivia frowned. "Be careful! Mom didn't tell you, but the frame sometimes comes out of the headboard. One day, I was jumping on it, and it fell apart and threw me into the floor."

I glanced at my sister, one eyebrow raised.

Angela shrugged. "She was using it as a trampoline. As long as you only plan on sleeping in it, you'll be fine."

As Olivia pulled me down the hallway, I glanced back at my duffle bag guiltily. I told my sister there would be no trouble when in truth, my duffle bag was potentially full of it.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Interrogation

"AUNT STACY, WHERE do you work?”

I looked up from my plate of spaghetti at Olivia sitting across from me. All evening she had been quizzing me about myself, as all small children tend to do, but this was the first time my employment had come up. The glare I got from Angela was unwarranted, but I understood.

"Well, Olivia-"

"It's Olive."

Olivia had spent much of the afternoon trying to hammer in my head that she preferred to be called 'Olive,' much to her mother's chagrin.

I smiled. "Well, Olive, I'm between jobs right now. That's why I had time to visit you and your mom."

"What happened to your arm?"

Man, kids don't miss a thing. I managed to keep my arm covered for most of the day, but she had finally noticed. Maybe I had the same kind of curiosity as a child. Perhaps that's what led me to the Bureau. I glanced at my arm and back up at my pint-sized inquisitor.

"I hurt it helping a friend."

Olive nodded and looked as though she was formulating her next round of questions when Angela cleared her throat. She had mainly stayed silent during Olive's dinner question session. Still, She took the pause as a chance to shift the topic before the questions got too tricky.

"So, how long do you plan on visiting?”

I shrugged as I watched my sister load more salad onto her plate from the large bowl on the table.

"No longer than I have to. I need to rest for a few days and let my arm and back heal more."

Angela nodded as she picked at her salad. "Where will you go after that?"

I thought about it for a minute while shoveling in a bite of spaghetti. "I'll probably visit an old friend up in Montana."

Just then, the phone rang in the other room. I had noticed the old-school telephone hanging on the wall earlier but didn't realize it still worked. Angela excused herself and left the room to answer. I looked over at Olive with a bewildered look on my face.

"Why does your Mom still have a landline?"

Olive frowned. "What's a landline?"

I chuckled. "Exactly."

Before I could say another word, Olive shifted gears and moved into round two of her interrogation.

"So, why did you stop going after bad guys with the FBI?"

When did this kid get so smart? I didn't even know she realized what I did for a living. She sat patiently as I squirmed, trying to come up with an adequate answer.

"Things happen. People change, and jobs change. It's part of life." It was a lame answer, and her judgmental look told me she agreed. I sighed but then looked back at her with a conspirator's grin.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Olive's eyes grew wide as she leaned forward and nodded vigorously.

"Don't tell your mom I told you this, but I still go after bad guys."

Olive's eyes lit up as she grinned at me.

"Promise you won't tell!"

She giggled as she pantomimed, zipping her lips shut. "I promise."

I turned as Angela sat back down at the table. Her eyes were swollen with tears as she drank her water.

"Sis, what's wrong?"

Olive got out of her chair and walked around to hug her mother. After hugging Olive for a moment, Angela looked over at me. She wiped the tears from her eyes before replying.

"My best friend, Jenn, was found dead."

My mind raced back to earlier that afternoon. My sister and I had been making small talk while Olive napped. I remembered her mentioning Jenn to me. They started at the hospital around the same time and had become fast friends.

"Oh, sis, I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Angela shook her head. "That's just it. They don't know. They say it's natural causes, but I don't see how that's possible. Jenn was only twenty-eight. She worked out all the time. She was in way better shape than I was. I don't know…." Angela's voice trailed off as she fought back the tears again.

I reached out and touched her arm. "It's okay, sis. The police will look into this. If there's anything odd, they will figure it out."

"That's just it. The Sheriff's Department is working on it, but according to Jenn's mother, they haven't found anything. There are no marks, no prints, nothing odd at all. It's so weird."

I sat for a few moments and gently rubbed my sister's arm. "You know, sometimes people, even young people, die. It doesn't always make sense."

Angela glanced up at me, her eyes swollen and red. "I know. It's just so sad. Especially after that girl passed away earlier this year. I swear, sometimes I think this town is cursed."

I glanced up. "Wait, Jenn isn't the first death?"

Angela looked up and sighed. "No. Another girl, Nancy Waters, died earlier this year. It was the same thing. She was just found dead. Nothing weird. No marks, no signs of struggle. The police wrote it off as natural causes, and no one thought anything about it. It was just tragic. Now another girl has died. It's just so weird. What're the chances of that?"

I furrowed my brow as deep inside me, I felt a switch flip on. "So, was the other girl the same age?"

"Yeah. The other girl was in her late twenties. Why?"

"It could be nothing, I don't know. I just have a feeling. Maybe I'll swing by the Sheriff's Department tomorrow and check out the files."

I felt my sister's eyes on me before I even looked up.

"Stacy, don't."

"What? Don't what?"

"Don't stir things up."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't. I could go to the Sheriff's Department, look at the files, and see if they missed anything."

"No. Come on, please. I know how you are?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Even though I knew exactly what she was implying, I just wanted to hear her say it.

Angela bit her lip and looked at the ceiling for a moment before leveling her gaze at me. "It's just that I know how you are. After all that stuff about a 'secret organization' or whatever you were involved in, it's not a good idea.

I felt my face flush. For half a second, I considered throwing down my napkin and storming out. I could take it a step further, grab my stuff, and go. I twisted my napkin into a knot in my lap. I get enough of the conspiracy nonsense thrown in my face without it coming from my sister. A tear rolled down my cheek, and I swiped it away before glancing back up. Olive was still holding onto her mom's arm. Her nose was red from crying. Angela's eyes were still red as she sat staring at me. I glanced down and sighed. I can't leave them like this. Slowly I shook my head.

"It wouldn't be like that, Angela. I only planned on glancing over the files to see if anything stood out to me. That's all."

"And what if you found something? How do you think the police would react to a stranger coming in and telling them how to do their job? I'm sad about Jenn's death, and it is strange, but I'll get over it. You have to remember, Stacy, you're just passing through. If you start a firestorm and cause a bunch of hurt feelings, it's no big deal to you. This is a small town. People will remember stuff like that. I still have to live here after you're gone. And if you cause a ruckus, I'll be the one to pay the price for it. It'll be guilt by association for the rest of my life. That's small-town life. No one ever forgets."

CHAPTER FIVE

Outsiders

THE FOLLOWING DAY Angela helped me with my bandages. She couldn't believe how fast my burns were healing. I didn't know how to tell her that is what happens when you have a multi-national shadow organization footing the bill. After she left to take Olive to school before heading to work, I sat down on the bed, opened my duffle bag, and dumped it onto the bed. I spent the next few minutes counting the bundles of money. Money that I stole from the very same organization that was helping me heal. I reassured myself that there was no way they could possibly know.

As I methodically counted the rolls of bills, I spotted the small envelope that had also fallen out of the bag. I thought about the debit card and PIN number that it contained. Jeremy told me it was a way of saying thanks, but I didn't trust it. Xavier Greene had once warned me that nothing comes without a price. Medical care was one thing. I couldn't turn that down, but the money was a bridge too far. I feared my phone would ring the minute I used the card, and they would need a 'favor.' My growling stomach shook me out of my thoughts, and I tossed the envelope into the bag. Looking around the room, I decided to stash the bag in the old air return. It was above the closet door, so no one would see it. Plus, it looked big enough that I should be able to stuff the bag in without restricting the airflow. I pulled a screwdriver from my other bag and climbed up on a chair to unfasten the return.

A short while later, I sat at the counter of Gina's Diner. It was a cute place a few blocks away from Angela's townhome. The diner's interior was decked out in a sunflower motif that seemed appropriate for a Kansas establishment. When I arrived, the place was packed. Fortunately, a spot at the counter came open beside the register. Fifteen minutes later, I was scarfing down a stack of pancakes and an over-easy egg when a girl walked up to the counter and ordered a latte. As she fumbled with her bag, she accidentally bumped into me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed.

I glanced up at her and found her staring back at me with intense blue eyes, peering from behind her black horn-rim glasses. She looked mortified to have disturbed me.

I shook my head. "Oh no, it's okay," I reassured her as I shifted in my seat to better face her. My back was healing, but it was still too stiff to twist my head around that comfortably.

She stared at me for a moment, and a smile crossed her face. "I'm Natalie."

She extended her hand, and I shook it, thinking it was like shaking a block of ice. I turned back to my food when she started to speak again.

"So, I don't remember seeing you around town?"

I sighed to myself and turned back to the girl. "No, I'm visiting family. I've only been here since yesterday."

"Oh wow, that must be so nice! I haven't seen my family in years."

"Yeah, it's nice. Say, pardon me for asking, but you don't exactly look like small-town Kansas yourself."

Natalie laughed. "Good eye! I'm actually in town for work. I shouldn't be here much longer, but it depends on how things go."

At that moment, the waitress returned with Natalie's latte. I was about to ask what she did because that's one of the rules of conversation, isn't it? If someone says they are in town for work, you're supposed to ask what they do. In any case, I returned to my food, determined to get another bite before it got cold.

As Natalie was paying the cashier, I overheard her say, "Oh, and I'll also pay for her breakfast."

I turned as Natalie stepped away from the register. Before I could say anything, she smiled at me.

"Us outsiders have to stick together, right?"

Before I could reply, she slid through the crowded diner and out the front door.

I shook my head, wondering how I always attract the weirdos. I'm sure Bill would have a theory about that. I glanced toward the front of the diner and spotted Natalie across the street, opening the door to her car. I took another bite when I realized what I had just seen. I spun and stood up, trying to get a better look, when I ran straight into an older waitress carrying several plastic cups. The water splashed all over my shirt.

"Oh, my goodness!” She exclaimed as she reached into her apron to grab a towel. I protested as she attempted to clean me up. When I finally convinced her I was fine, I glanced back up. Natalie and her black car were both gone.

I stood staring out the front of the diner for a minute longer before noticing everyone was staring at me. I sat back down and tried to go back to eating my breakfast. That couldn't have been the same car. It was just a coincidence, wasn't it? I convinced myself that it had to have been a coincidence. I didn't even get a good look at the car that was following me on the interstate. If it was even really following me. I sighed and slowed my breathing. Pretty soon, my mind stopped racing, and I returned to breakfast. My thoughts drifted back to Angela's friend, who passed away. That in and of itself was not an unusual occurrence. People die young all the time, and we're never guaranteed any time, but that wasn't what bugged me. What struck me was the fact that a second young girl had died in this small town in the past year. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it wasn't. One thing was for sure, despite my sister's warning, I decided to pay the Sheriff's Office a visit after I finished my cold pancakes.

CHAPTER SIX

If You Never Ask, the Answer is Always No

THE JACKSON SHERIFF'S Department was housed in a modest building on Fourth Street. An hour ago, I parked across the street and waited. I thought about what Angela had said to me the night before. It stung somewhere deep inside me. Why was it I could take almost anything from strangers, but one snide remark from my family cut straight to the bone? That may be why I so rarely see them. As I watched the building, I saw deputies come and go with disinterest. Finally, I saw the Sheriff stride onto the sidewalk and over to his cruiser. After he left, I waited a few more minutes before exiting the car, crossing the street, and entering the building.

I walked into the Sheriff's Department and glanced around. It looked pretty deserted. The only person I could see was a single Sheriff's Deputy. He looked to be in his late twenties. Perfect, my patience seemed to have paid off. I cleared my throat, and he finally looked up as I approached the counter.

"Hi! Sorry about that, I didn't see you there. What can I help you with?"

I glanced at his name tag. "Yes, Deputy Lang, I'm Stacy Martinez. I have a few questions about an ongoing investigation."

He stared at me for a minute and squinted as if trying to remember something. "Martinez? Are you Angela's sister?"

Jeez, does everyone know my sister in this town? I reconsidered my plan for a moment. I really didn't want this to get back to Angela. But I've come this far, so I might as well go through with it.

"Oh, why yes, I am! You know Angela?"

The Deputy nodded his head. "Yeah, she and I played softball together last year."

Softball? I learn something new all the time. I filed that away and made a note to ask Angela about her extracurricular activities later.

"Oh really?" I replied with a tone of surprise that was not manufactured. "I didn't know she played?"

Deputy Lang grinned. "Oh yeah, she's a great short-stop. I hope she plays again this year."

I smiled despite myself. "I had no idea."

"Well, she is pretty modest." Replied Lang. "So, are you in town visiting?"

"Yes, I am. I had a few weeks off and figured it was a good time to catch up with Angela and Olive."

The Deputy leaned back in his chair. "Oh, that's nice. Catching up with family is always a good thing, except for that one cousin of mine." His voice trailed off, and I decided not to take that bait.

Deputy Lang checked his phone and responded to a text before looking back up. "Well, what can I do for you today? You said something about an ongoing investigation?"

Here we go. I took a breath and pushed forward. If you never ask, the answer is always no, correct?

"Yeah, Angela was devastated when she heard about Jenn's death last night. I was wondering if I could take a look at the files?"

The Deputy scratched his head for a minute. "Oh yeah, you mean Jennifer Tanner? Yeah, that was a real pity. I went to high school with her." His eyes met mine. "But, that's a highly unusual request. I understand your concern, but I can't just let a civilian look at department files."

"I understand," I replied as I casually pulled out my old FBI badge. I opened it for a second before flipping it shut and returning it to my pocket. The effect was immediate. I saw Deputy Lang stiffen ever so slightly at the sight of it. He glanced from the pocket where I put the badge to my face and back.

He bit his lips for a second before looking up. "Should I be worried?"

"No, it's nothing official. I'm just doing Angela a courtesy, that's all. She's shaken up by it, and I decided to put her mind to ease by giving the case the once over. It's more for her peace of mind than anything."

Deputy Lang mulled all this over for too long, so I gently pressed it further. The last thing I needed was for him to call the Sheriff.

“If I can take a quick peek, I would appreciate it. We can keep it between us. What do you say?"

Deputy Lang looked at me for a moment before pushing himself back from the desk and standing up. He walked over to the gate and let me in.

"Okay, I'll let you take a quick look, but this goes no further, okay? I really shouldn't let you see it without getting the Sheriff involved, but if it'll help calm Angela down."

I flashed an understanding look at the young Deputy. "Oh, I'm sure it will do wonders for her. Do me a favor, though, don't mention it to her. She would be embarrassed to know I told you how upset she got."

Deputy Lang nodded and took me back to a small desk over to the side. He retrieved the case file and put it on the desk.

"Here you go, but if anyone asks, you did not see this."

I sat down at the desk and nodded. "Thank you so much, and my lips are sealed."

"Okay." Deputy Lang said as he went back to his desk. "Let me know if you need anything."

I nodded and turned my attention to the file. It was all pretty basic, maybe even sparse. A white female was found on the bed. No fingerprints, no signs of forced entry or struggle. According to the report, there was no bruising or trauma. They only found a few wool hairs on her, but that could've been from a blanket or jacket. I turned the page, but the report was incomplete.

I glanced over at Deputy Lang. "Excuse me, when will you have the Coroner's report?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "The Coroner is out of town. We should have something tomorrow or the day after."

I nodded and flipped through the report one more time. It was bare bones but thorough. I hated to say it, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary here. Maybe I overthought it? In any case, I needed to get the hell out of the office before the Sheriff showed back up and wanted to see my badge. At that moment, Deputy Lang got up to make some copies. I got up and crossed behind him, heading for the gate as he did. I dropped the file on his desk and reached for the gate. Just as I unlatched it, I heard him call out.

"Stacy, I got a text from the Sheriff. He is on the way back in. Are you sure you don't want to stick around and meet him? I wouldn't tell him you saw the file, but he might be able to give you more information."

I opened the gate and shot through it. That's the last thing I needed.

"I would, but I just realized I'm running late for an appointment. Thank you for all of your help!"

He responded, but I barely heard it as I sprinted out the front door.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Chasing Ghosts

I CRUISED THROUGH the central part of town before setting my GPS for the town library. As I listened to the Charger’s engine purr, I kept going over the report in my head. There was absolutely nothing out of place. According to the report, the girl simply died. Maybe she had an underlying condition that no one knew about? Maybe I had let my imagination get away from me. I absentmindedly followed the GPS’ directions, lost in my thoughts. I hoped the file would give me something, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. The thing that kept sticking in my head was that Angela had mentioned another young girl dying in the past year. It was probably nothing, but I figured I would at least satisfy my own curiosity, even if I was making something out of nothing.

A short while later, I sat in the archives of the town library. Any hope I had that they had digital archives was dashed when the librarian took me to a musty room at the rear of the building. After familiarizing me with their organizational system, she left me to go through stacks of old newspapers. I spent the next few hours reviewing the obituaries and taking notes on my phone. I really missed doing research. It had been my favorite part of being in the Bureau. After painstakingly going through every newspaper obituary, I finally raised up from my study and stretched my sore back. The scarred skin protested, feeling like it would rip apart, and I stopped mid-stretch. I reached back and tenderly rubbed my upper back as I studied the list in front of me. On it was seven women under the age of thirty who had passed away in the past three years. That seemed like a lot of young women to die in such a small town. Two of them had been killed due to injuries sustained in a car accident, so I could mark them off. Another died while on vacation in Colorado, so that left a list of four names:

Jessica Daniels

Erin Johnson

Nancy Waters

Jennifer Tanner

I sat and stared at the list on my phone as if the names were going to tell me some secret they carried amongst themselves. Even narrowed down, that’s a lot of young people to pass in this sleepy, small town. Or was it? Was I being objective here? Or was I letting my imagination get away from me? Had I decided that something happened here, so I was looking for a pattern to justify my stance? I put down my phone and rubbed my eyes. Last night’s sleep was the best I had gotten in a long time, but my reserves were low. Maybe I was being stubborn. I know my ex-bosses at the FBI would agree. After all, my refusal to let go of my investigation into the Citadel cost me my job. Even when given the explicit warning not to take the investigation any further, I couldn’t let it go. In the end, it cost me everything. I walked out in frustration at my superiors for trying to squash the whole thing and Logan for not having my back. Now, I’ve come to this small town to see my sister and niece. I’m supposed to be relaxing and healing, but here I am, once again, chasing ghosts.

I sighed and started returning the newspapers. I thought about how angry Angela would be if she knew what I was up to. She had told me to let it go. Why couldn’t I just move on? I placed the last newspapers back in their racks and picked up my phone. My finger hung over the trash can icon that would delete the list. It stayed there for several seconds, hesitating. The thing was, I was right about the Citadel, and I’m sure now that my bosses knew it as well. As much as I wanted to erase the names and just get some sleep, I couldn’t. If I were one of those girls on the list, I would like someone to ensure everything was legit. I saved the note and put my phone back in my pocket. My instinct says something was off. Maybe it’s right, maybe not. The only way I will know is if I follow this through.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Coffee with a Side of Trouble

AN HOUR LATER, I sat in Un-Brew-Lievable. It was a surprisingly hip coffee house to be situated in middle-of-nowhere Kansas. Dark wood beams and bookshelves full of books and games gave the space a cozy feel. I grabbed a caramel macchiato and settled into an oversized leather chair in a small nook. As I did, I pulled my phone out and stared at the list of names. I knew what I needed to do but dreaded it just the same. If I followed this through, I would have to speak to the families of at least a few girls. That way, I would either find something that stood out, or I would finally convince myself that there was nothing to it. Either way, I had to be careful not to ruffle any feathers. The last thing I wanted was to cause trouble for Angela. She was absolutely right that small towns tended to hold grudges. Once a family member caused trouble, the rest of the family risked being judged by association. If I caused trouble, it would reverberate to her or even Olive. Discretion was of the utmost importance.

"Hi there, stranger! Fancy meeting you here!"

I abruptly looked up from my phone, startled by the cheerful voice. I glanced up to see Natalie standing over me. She wore a purple beret and her black horn-rim glasses.

"Hi!" I managed to say as I closed my phone and slipped it back into my pocket.

Natalie's eyes followed the phone for a brief second. Did she see what was on the screen?

She nodded toward my jacket pocket, where my phone was tucked safely away. "What are you up to?"

I shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I was going over a few things I needed to sort out."

"Ah, gotcha." She replied as she slid into the comfy leather chair across from me.

"Mind if I join you?"

Inside I sighed. This was the last thing I needed. Couldn't Natalie tell I was busy?

I nodded because I basically had to. She was already seated, so it would be impolite to tell her otherwise. Wouldn't it?

Natalie crossed her legs, showing off the rather severe heels of her leather boots, and sipped her coffee, all while her electric eyes stared a hole in me.

I met her stare for a few moments, and the silence between us lingered. Finally, I decided to break the ice. "So, you said you are in town for work. What exactly do you do?"

She continued to drink her coffee and stare for a few moments before setting her cup on the side table and shrugging. "Business Management. I used to work for a large corporation, but recently they went belly up. So, for now, I'm doing temp work."

I took a sip of my macchiato and nodded. That had to be the vaguest description of what you do that I've ever heard. After a few moments, Natalie shifted in her chair.

"So Stacy, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm actually between jobs right now."

"Between jobs?"

"Yeah. I walked out of my last one. I've been freelancing, but currently, I'm not doing anything."

She glanced at the bookshelf for a moment before catching my eye again. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully, you'll find something worthwhile."

"Thanks," I replied. "I hope you find something permanent soon. Temp work only takes you so far."

Natalie grinned as she pushed her glasses back up onto her nose. "Oh, I'm sure I'll do fine. You know you have to be careful these days. The last thing you want is to get stuck in a dead-end job. There is honestly nothing worse." Her eyes caught mine again. "You know what I mean?"

I was beginning to think I didn't know what she meant, but I didn't like how she emphasized the word 'dead.'

She continued on without waiting on a reply. "Yeah, dead-end jobs are the worst. You don't start out thinking it's bad. One thing leads to another, and you're trapped with no way out. The next thing you know, it sucks the life right out of you."

She tapped her finger on the side table to emphasize the last several words. Her blue eyes seemed more intense than usual as she stared at me. Finally, she looked to the side and grinned as she glanced back at me.

"That's been my experience anyway."

She allowed her gaze to linger on me for a few seconds before looking around the coffee shop. Meanwhile, my gut was telling me something was off. Maybe I was being paranoid, but something seemed odd, and I needed to get away from her. I picked up my cup and stood up.

"Hey, it was nice running into you, but I have to run."

Natalie gave me a sincerely disappointed look. "Are you sure?"

I shrugged my shoulders, faking disappointment as well as I could. "Yeah, sorry. It's getting late, and I promised my sister I would help her prepare dinner. Have a good evening, though."

Natalie smiled. "You too! Enjoy your dinner! I'm sure I'll see you around."

As I exited the coffee shop, I glanced around at the cars but didn't see one that matched what I saw Natalie get in earlier. I wanted to run her plates to find some background information on her. As I got in the Charger, I chastised myself for wanting to run plates on a girl who, for all I knew, didn't know anyone in town and was just trying to make a friend. I fired up the Charger and rolled slowly past the front of the coffee shop. When I glanced into the window, Natalie was gone.

CHAPTER NINE

Don't Let Your Imagination Get the Best of You

"SO, WHY DO you need to see the incident reports for these three?" Deputy Lang asked as he handed me the folders.

"I'm just trying to be thorough," I explained as I went through the files. "It's mostly curiosity, that's all."

Deputy Lang nodded and went back to his duties. Today he hadn't been as welcoming as he was the first time I was here. I watched as he returned to the front desk and busied himself with paperwork. I knew I was pushing my luck coming back for more files. The first time had caught him by surprise and had seemed innocent enough. Judging from his demeanor, I'm worried I'm using up whatever goodwill he had for me. I brushed the thoughts aside and decided to get back to work. I flipped through the files, hoping to find something that stood out. Just like Jenn's file, each girl was found dead with no signs of foul play. No signs of struggle, foreign DNA, or substances in their system. Natural Causes were the listed cause of death in each case. As I flipped through the pictures, I noticed that the girls all had bloodshot eyes. Maybe I'm grasping at straws, but I remembered that was a sign of asphyxiation. As I made a note, a group of deputies returned to the station. Time to go. I used my phone to snap a few quick pictures of the reports so I could finish reading them later. I closed the folders and took them back to Deputy Lang.

"Here you go. Thanks for your help!"

He got up from his desk and took the files from me, setting them on the desk before motioning for me to follow him outside. I realized too late that he probably didn't want the other deputies to know what I had been doing. Once outside, the Deputy looked around and finally turned to me to speak.

"So, did that satisfy your curiosity?"

"Yeah." I nodded. “That was all the information I needed. Thanks."

He mulled something over in his head. "So, what did you want with those three files anyway?"

I shrugged. "The girls all died similarly to Jenn, so I wanted to compare them."

He shook his head. "Yeah, they all died of natural causes."

"Yeah, that's what you have listed in the reports. But did you notice the girls' eyes were all bloodshot? Isn't that a sign of asphyxiation?"

"Well, what do you think happens when you stop breathing? I mean, I get it. You want to look into this to soothe your sister's nerves, but don't let your imagination get away from you."

A weird knot formed in my gut as I stared at Deputy Lang. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The Deputy looked at the ground for a moment as he nudged some pebbles with his shoe. Finally, he looked back up, and his eyes met mine. "When you first visited the office, I thought your name sounded familiar, so I looked you up."

He opened his phone and held it out. It's a rather unflattering piece that showed up on a tabloid site. The headline read 'Conspiracy Nut Quits FBI to Pursue Delusions.' When the article came out, I wanted to throttle whoever wrote it. I threatened to sue, but that only made the reporters more bloodthirsty, and I realized I was playing their game by acting so angry. But didn't I have the right to be? I felt my face flush with rage as I looked off across the street to calm my emotions.

"Look, I don't want to cause trouble for you or your sister, but you have got to stop looking into this." He paused as if waiting for me to look back at him. I continued to stare at the Charger sitting across the street. I wished I could teleport into it and drive away from all of this.

"If you leave all of this alone," he continued. "I won't say anything to the Sheriff about you or your fake badge."

That was it. I couldn't take anymore. I started across the road without another word or even a sideways glance. I heard Deputy Lang call out to me, but I ignored him. At that moment, I either had to remove myself from the situation or smash him in the face. I climbed into the Charger, slammed the door, and put my head down on the steering wheel. Before I realized it, a sob came out, and tears started to flow. I squeezed the steering wheel as hard as possible as the emotion poured out of me. The past few years, I had seen so much shit, and even if I did open up about it, who would believe me? All I had pursued for the past few years was the truth, and where had that gotten me? I sat with my head down for a few more moments, letting the emotion move through me. At moments like this, I was glad for the tinted windows. The last thing I wanted was to give the young Deputy the satisfaction of seeing me wallow in embarrassment and frustration. When I looked up, the sidewalk was empty. Deputy Lang had apparently returned to the office, satisfied that I wouldn't be a problem. I opened my phone and flipped through the pictures of the reports. Maybe he was right. Perhaps I was making something out of nothing. Or maybe I'm doing it to overcompensate for never being there for my sister. Whatever the reason, maybe I should delete these pictures and spend the rest of my visit resting like I initially set out to do. Just then, I noticed something in one of the reports. It was a minor footnote, but it caught my attention.

I quickly scanned through the other three and found the same detail. In each case, a few tiny wool fibers were found, just like they saw on Jenn. I stared at the words on the screen. Part of me wanted to ignore it, delete the file, and get on with my vacation, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I weighed my options. As much as I would love to walk back in and shove this little find in the face of the Deputy, I knew he would dismiss it. Or worse, I would be in trouble for impersonating a Federal Agent. So, the Sheriff's Department was definitely off the table. If I was taking this any further, I was on my own.

CHAPTER TEN

A Special Kind of Hell

MY HAND HESITATED inches from the front door. I debated with myself whether I really wanted to interrupt the person on the other side of it. Whether I wanted to bring back all these painful memories. At this point, I knew I was taking a chance, but to figure out if there was something else going on, what choice did I have? I realized I had been standing in front of the door for too long with my hand extended, intending to knock but unable to summon the courage to do it. Without warning, the door swung open, cutting short my internal debate and forcing me forward on my path.

The woman in the doorway looked old beyond her years. Grief could do that to you. Although she was probably in her fifties, she had deep lines on her face and wisps of gray in her hair. She looked me up and down impatiently as I took a step back.

"May I help you?" She asked, in the tone of voice you would reserve for door-to-door salesmen.

"Hi. Mrs. Daniels?" I started, realizing that I was so worried about whether I should be doing it that I didn't think about what to say when I got here. "I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about your daughter, Jessica?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "My daughter passed away last year."

"Yes, I know. I wanted to ask you some questions related to that."

"Who are you? Some reporter?" She asked as she stepped back to close the door.

I placed my hand on the door to stop her from closing it. "No, no, I'm an intern with the Sheriff's Department. I'm doing a routine audit to ensure everyone followed proper protocol."

It wasn't the best excuse I had ever come up with, but it would have to do. Mrs. Daniels seemed to buy it because, after a few moments, she opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch with me.

"There isn't really much to tell." She said as she stared at the faded wooden porch. "We came home and found Jessica lying peacefully on her bed. It was like she just fell asleep or something."

The pain was palpable in her every word. I felt like an ass for even being here talking to this poor woman.

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

She looked up at me and gave me a weak smile. "Thank you. I appreciate it. You know everyone says it, but they can't possibly imagine what you're going through. The grief you feel every morning you get up and your daughter isn't there anymore. How can they possibly know that level of grief?"

I waited, hoping to let her emotions recede as she looked out over the yard. "I can't imagine what you must be going through. It has to be so hard."

She sighed and continued looking at the yard before turning to me. "Do you have children?"

"No, ma'am, I don't."

"Well, then you couldn't possibly know. To bring a life into this world only to see it extinguished before it even hit its prime. It's a special kind of hell."

I only nodded and let the silence hang. This wasn't easy for this poor woman.

"So, what was your daughter like?"

At this, she seemed to perk up ever so slightly. "Oh, she was a good girl. Healthy, active, smart, loving, everything you would want in a daughter. She got into things when she was young, but what child doesn't?"

"Did she have any health problems?"

She shook her head. "No, I can't say that she did. She had to get a yearly physical for her job and was in great shape. But, I've already gone over all this with the Deputies."

"Well, yes, but as I told you, I'm assisting in an audit of some of the Department regulations, so I'm just making sure everyone did their job correctly."

This seemed to satisfy Mrs. Daniels, and she nodded slightly while looking back out over the yard.

I decided to cautiously move forward. "So, the case files said they found some wool hairs on your daughter. Did she own a wool scarf, jacket, or blanket?"

Mrs. Daniels's brow furrowed. "No, she didn't. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, as I said, I'm just reviewing everything in the file and ensuring they followed all rules and regulations."

"But why do you care about that? Do you think someone made a mistake? Do you suspect foul play?" She asked as the anxiety began to swell in her voice.

"Um, no, not at all. I was just confirming what was in the report."

My explanation didn't soothe Mrs. Daniels as she turned to me, a look of anger welling up in her eyes. "You know, I think that's about enough. I don't know what you think gives you the right to come around here asking questions about my daughter. Haven't I suffered enough?"

I put my hands up to calm her down, but she didn't relent.

"I have half a notion of filing a complaint with the Sheriff. How dare they send an intern down here to harass me after all I've been through."

Oh shit. This was bad. Really bad.

"Mrs. Daniels, please, I apologize. I didn't mean to make you upset. I was really just doing my job. Please don't call the Sheriff. I don't want to lose my job. Please, I'm begging you."

Mrs. Daniels didn't reply as she walked past me to her front door. Before entering it, she turned to face me.

"Get the hell off of my porch."

Without another word, she slammed the door.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

You Need to Be More Careful...

"GOD, WHAT A freaking disaster!" I exclaimed as I slammed the door to the Charger and slumped into my seat. I had known I was taking a big chance interviewing one of the parents, but I definitely picked the wrong one. All I could hope now was that she'll cool off and not follow through with reporting me to the Sheriff. Now the question was, do I keep pushing forward? If so, do I dare speak to another one of the parents?

Just then, I noticed movement in my rearview mirror. I wasn't sure what it was, but I was sure I saw something. I sat utterly still, entirely focused on figuring out what I thought I saw. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, I saw it. A man leaned cautiously out from an alleyway between two buildings. I saw sunlight reflect off of something in his hand. It might have been a camera lens, but I was too far away to tell. Suddenly I threw open the door to the Charger and jumped out. The man disappeared from sight as I ran toward the alley. I stopped short of the entrance, not wanting to jump into an ambush. After steadying myself, I ducked around the corner, but the passage was empty. There wasn't even a dumpster to hide behind. I noticed this area must flood because there were spots in the alley where dirt collected on the pavement. It didn't take a trained eye to spot the fresh bootprints that trailed across the dirt patches. I reached behind my back and checked my sidearm as I followed the boot prints down the alley toward the back of the buildings. At the corner, I paused, straining to hear any sound that might reveal an ambush. But other than the sound of the rustling wind, there was nothing. I stepped around the back of the building with one hand on my pistol. There was no one there. I turned and looked both ways on the single-lane, partially paved road behind the strip of buildings. Suddenly a door flew open behind me, shattering the silence as its metal frame bounced off the brick facade. Startled, I drew my sidearm and spun around, ready to fire.

"Oh shit! Don't shoot!" Screamed the elderly gentleman as he dropped his mop and bucket. Water splashed up on his white apron as he held his arms high.

"Oh my God! I am so sorry!" I sputtered as I quickly stashed my pistol back behind my back. "I followed someone into the alley, and they lost me."

The old man bent over and grabbed his mop and bucket from the ground as an exasperated look played out over his wrinkled face. "Dang fool! You almost gave me a heart attack! There's no need to go waving guns around all over the place. This isn't New York City!"

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry. Say, you haven't seen anyone running through this alleyway, have you?"

The old man shrugged his shoulders as his bushy eyebrows furrowed. "No. I opened this door to throw out my mop water, and there you were. Scared the daylights out of me. You need to be more careful, or someone will get hurt!"

He entered the doorway and slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the alley. His words echoed through my head. I did need to be more careful. I didn't know what it was, but after everything I'd been through with the Citadel and Axion, my nerves were shot. I had heard of combat veterans suffering from similar conditions. Is that what this feeling was? Could I even trust my own instincts? I was sure I was doing the right thing looking into this girl's death but was I? Not to mention the girl I had run into twice now. What was her name? Natalie? She was odd, but why was I being so paranoid. I sighed as I leaned back against the wall. Other than Angela, I didn't know who I could trust, including me. My instincts had never steered me wrong, but what if I had some kind of PTSD from everything I'd been through? How could I trust my judgment? My gut told me something was happening here but was it? Everyone thought I was nuts, but it couldn't just be in my head. I needed to talk to someone who understood what I was going through, and I knew just the person…

CHAPTER TWELVE

Don't Question Your Instinct

I SAT ON a bench in a small park near the east side of town. It was a nicely manicured park with a walking trail and a water feature on the far end. It was also a spot where I could get good cell service, which is only sometimes the case in the Midwest. I checked my watch as I listened to the seagulls as they squawked and fought over some spilled french fries on the edge of the parking lot. It had been almost an hour since I left a message. Maybe he wouldn't call back. He told me if I ever needed him, all I had to do was call. But I also knew you couldn't always get to your phone in his line of work. I glanced over at the seagulls still fighting over leftover fast food. What were they even doing here in the middle of the country? What was I doing here? I may have had more in common with them than I thought. My phone rang, and I picked it up. The screen read 'Unknown Call.' Could it really be?

"Hello? Xavier?" I said as I answered the phone.

"Stacy! It's good to hear your voice! Is everything alright?" Answered the always calm voice of Xavier Greene. Several years ago, my partner and I were assigned a case to track him down and retrieve his cargo. When things went sideways, we ended up working with him, and he ended up saving our lives. One other time I became entangled with him as we raced around the world to rescue my ex-partner. During that time, I had built up a rapport with Xavier and had to admit it was pretty cool having a world-class assassin on my speed dial.

I sighed as I started filling him in on everything. He listened intently to everything I had to say about Jackson, the girls, Natalie, and the whole thing. When I had finished, he was quiet, no doubt mulling over everything I told him. In the background of the phone call, I almost thought I could hear the wind roaring in the distance.

"So," he started as if slowly calculating what to say. "What does your instinct tell you?"

I shook my head. "That's just it. I don't know if I can trust my instinct. I'm all over the place. I don't know if what I'm feeling is really there or if I'm cracking up under pressure."

"Why do you question your instinct? It's gotten you this far."

"Well yeah, that was before everyone started thinking I was some crackpot conspiracy nut."

"What does what everyone else thinks of you have to do with anything?"

"Well, I mean, nobody trusts me. Everyone questions everything I do."

"So? They aren't privy to the information you've seen. To the uninitiated, a lot of things seem absurd. Who cares what any of these people think?"

"I don't know. It's just hard."

"I know. Those who live this type of life know it isn't easy, but it's the life we choose. Or, in some cases, the life that chose us. Either way, you shouldn't doubt yourself. You've saved my life several times, and few can say that. You're a remarkable woman."

Maybe it was the angle of the sun, but I felt very warm at the moment.

"Thank you for that, Xavier."

"You're welcome, Stacy. It can be hard sometimes, but your instincts have carried you a long way. I wouldn't start doubting them now. As far as the car and the girl you keep running into, all I can say is this: I run into all sorts of strange people in my line of work. Beware if you run into the same one too often because it likely isn't a coincidence."

I smile as I think about this strange man. In some way, I feel bonded to him by all the combat and trauma we've shared. "Thanks for the advice, Xavier. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem, Stacy. Call anytime." Over the phone, I thought I heard the sound of a distant bell tolling. "Stacy, I have to go. Please take care of yourself."

"I will. By the way, where are you-"The phone clicked dead. That was a mystery for another time. I sat on the bench, feeling the wind blow through my hair and listening to the seagulls as they continued their raucous negotiations over rations. Maybe they weren't lost, and neither was I.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A Uniquely Kansas View

AFTER MY TALK with Xavier, I felt rejuvenated. I was determined to see this through but needed a better strategy. As I walked up the steps to the front porch of the two-story Victorian home owned by the parents of Jennifer Tanner, I was determined to skip the deceptions and be myself. I rang the doorbell and waited. After a few moments, a woman opened the door. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and although she had put on makeup and was wearing a bright blue blouse, you could tell she had been crying recently.

“Mrs. Tanner?”

The woman looked me over cautiously. “Yes?”

“I’m Stacy Martinez, Angela Martinez’s sister. I wanted to stop by and give my condolences.”

To my surprise, her face brightened. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar! Come in, please.”

She led me into her living room, where we sat on the sofa. It was a modest-sized living room. Not small by any means, but cozy.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? Coffee?”

I smiled. “No, ma’am, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome. It’s just been so different without Jennifer around.”

“I’m sure. I can’t imagine. When I heard it, I couldn’t believe it.”

“I know. We’ve been devastated. One minute, Jennifer was here, then gone.” A cloud passed over Mrs. Tanner’s face for a moment. No doubt, grief trying to escape from deep inside. After a few moments, she shook it off, and the smile returned.

“So, you’re Angela’s sister? How long are you in town for?”

“Oh, just a few weeks. I thought it would be nice to catch up with her and Olive. I hadn’t seen them in a long time.”

“That’s so nice. I’m sure they appreciate it. So, did you know my daughter?”

I shook my head. “No, unfortunately, I only knew her from all the pictures that Angela used to show. She spoke about her all the time.” That was actually a bit of a white lie. I had heard Angela mention ‘Jenn’ only when speaking about their work.

“That’s so nice. Angela is so sweet, and that little Olive, so precious!” Then her face lit up. “Do you want to go upstairs and see Jenn’s old room?”

The next thing I knew, we were upstairs in the bedroom. As Mrs. Tanner explained, Jenn had been staying with them while saving up for a place of her own. The room was immaculate. Mrs. Tanner made sure I saw Jenn’s old track and swimming medals and various pictures of her and Angela. At first, I had thought it would be weird to see her room, but this was Mrs. Tanner’s way of celebrating her daughter’s life, and I was here for it. As she spoke, I glanced out the window and was treated to a uniquely Kansas view. The house across the street was only one story, so you could see past it and into endless fields that seemed to go on forever over the flat landscape of central Kansas.

“Isn’t it a wonderful view?” Asked Mrs. Tanner.

“Yeah, that’s pretty impressive.”

“Jenn used to sit at that desk in front of the window and study. You can sit there for a minute if you want.”

I thought sitting at the dead girl’s desk would be a bit weird, but I indulged her grieving mother and sat down.

Just then, the phone rang downstairs.

“I’m going to go downstairs and answer that. I’ve been expecting a call from the funeral home about the service. You sit there as long as you like.”

I nodded, and Mrs. Tanner disappeared down the steps. Perfect.

The minute I heard her answer the phone, I got up and walked to the closet. Opening it, I quickly looked through all of Jenn’s clothes. Nothing seemed to match the fibers that were found. I paused to ensure I still heard Mrs. Tanner talking and continued my search. I checked the top of the closet and the small plastic cabinets at the bottom. No sign of any wool garment anywhere. That’s so odd. How would there be wool fibers on Jenn if she didn’t have anything with wool on it? I closed the closet and walked over to her bed. There was a blanket at the foot of the bed, but it was the wrong material. Strange. At that moment, I heard Mrs. Tanner hang up the phone downstairs.

“Everything okay?” I asked as I met her in the doorway.

“Oh, yes. The service is set for this coming weekend. Oh, please tell me you’ll come?”

“Of course, I will. You can count on it.”

She walked me downstairs and saw me out. She seemed hesitant to let me go, and I felt bad for leaving. The poor woman was lonely and grieving, and I hated to leave her. But now my head was full of questions. Four women were dead, all found with no sign of foul play, and yet all four were found with a very trace amount of wool fibers on them. What did this mean?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Cacophony

I SPENT THE next hour or so driving around town, staring at the wispy clouds as they blew across the endless Kansas sky. I thought about the girls who would never come home to see their parents again, never get to play in a softball league, and never fall in love. It was such a tragedy; those worlds shattered forever. After my last few years, I was intimately familiar with tragedy and loss and how it could change you. I was almost too aware of how much I had changed over the last few years and couldn't help but wonder if my experiences were affecting my judgment now. I knew Xavier told me to trust my gut, but could I? I'd spent so long looking over my shoulder that maybe it was all I knew now. To me, every shadow was an ambush point, every stranger a potential assailant. What happened with those girls was a tragedy, but was it a case of foul play or just coincidence? The wool threads were the only things I could see out of place. But was it actually a clue, or was I grasping at straws? There was also Angela to think of. The last thing I wanted to do was cause her any trouble. I'd pushed my luck so far and gotten nothing for it. As much as I didn't want to, I needed to share what I'd found with her and see what she thought. After hearing what I had found so far, if she wanted me to drop it, I would.

Satisfied with my action plan, I pulled up to a stoplight when something caught my eye. Several cars back was a black sedan. How long had it been there? I'd been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn't paid any attention. A quick beep of the horn from the car behind me reminded me that the light had changed. I waved my hand and started through the intersection, watching the sedan in my rearview as I went. It continued straight across the intersection, following the same route as me. Was it a coincidence? I decided to casually find out. As I approached a gas station on my right, I hit my blinker and pulled into the parking lot. As I expected, the black sedan continued on past the station. As it passed, I immediately pulled out into traffic behind them.

I pulled out my cell phone and balanced it on my steering wheel as I closed in on the car. When I was close enough, I snapped a quick picture of the license plate and tossed my phone into the cupholder. Immediately the black sedan, a recent model Chevy Malibu, whipped into the other lane and accelerated rapidly, passing the car in front of it as it whipped back into traffic. For a split second, I was stunned that my intuition about the car may have been correct. I smashed the gas pedal toward the floor, and the Charger roared to life. I cut into oncoming traffic and passed the slower car as an oncoming truck laid on its horn in protest. The Malibu accelerated quickly, but it was no match for the Dodge Charger. I quickly closed the distance between us. However, I still needed to figure out what to do when I caught up to it. It's not like I was a law enforcement agent anymore. As we sped toward the outskirts of town, I was thankful that traffic had dissipated. The last thing I needed was a Sheriff's Deputy to show up in the middle of this.

The Malibu slammed on brakes and slid onto a side street. My tires screeched in protest as I followed onto the unpaved road. The Malibu pushed on, slinging gravel and dust onto my windshield. The Charger stayed on its tail, the engine roaring in protest as the rear end threatened to fishtail at any moment. The Malibu took another quick turn and hooked a left between two buildings. I recognized its strategy. It knew it couldn't outrun the Charger in the straightaways, so it was trying to keep switching back in hopes it would lose me in one of the turns. As strategies go, it wasn't bad.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, fighting like hell to keep the Charger from spinning out. Suddenly the Malibu whipped back onto a straightaway and accelerated away from me. I punched the accelerator, spraying rock as the Charger fought to gain traction on the road's gravel surface. The tires finally caught, and we shot down the dirt road like a rocket. As I gained ground on the Malibu, I realized that we were running parallel to a set of train tracks. I pushed the accelerator further toward the floor, risking a spin-out as my speed increased. Out in the distance, past the cloud of dust stirred up by the Malibu, I could see the dark shape of an oncoming train. My eyes widened as I realized what the Malibu must have planned.

The roar of the motor was deafening as gravel bounced off the windshield. I could hear the roar of the train engine as its horn blew frantically at the chaos heading toward it. Suddenly the Malibu swung right, shooting across an unguarded crossing. The oncoming train missed it by inches. I slammed on the brakes, unable to follow the Malibu through. The sudden deceleration caused the Charger to lose traction and spin out of control on the dirt road. For a second, my entire world was chaos as the car rotated out of control, and the train roared by. Finally, the cacophony ended as the Charger stopped at an angle across the dirt road.

The dust cloud dissipated as I watched the train cars roll past me. My heart pounded in my chest as the adrenaline subsided. I closed my eyes and laid back in my seat, willing away nausea and bile that I felt creeping up my throat. I fumbled for my water bottle and took a long, cold drink. I scanned the other side of the tracks as best I could, but it was no use. The black Malibu was long gone. By the time the train passed, it could be anywhere. But at least I had the picture of its license plate. I grabbed my phone out of the cupholder and opened my photos. There was a picture of the back of the car, clear as day, but the license plate was a bright blurred white. I stared at the photo before tossing the phone onto the passenger's seat. I had seen that tech before. It was used to avoid traffic and surveillance cameras but wasn't readily available to the public. So the question was, who was in the black Malibu, and how did they have access to that kind of advanced tech?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Be Discreet

"SO WHAT'S BUGGING you?"

After the ordeal with the black Malibu, I stopped by the carwash to clean up the Charger before heading home to cook dinner with Angela and Olive. Angela raised an eyebrow as she watched me scrub the pan we used to make enchiladas a little too thoroughly. She knew me well. All I had thought about the entire time was how to approach her about the situation. She had specifically asked me not to get involved, and I had gone against her wishes and did it anyway. I shrugged as I rinsed the pan.

"Oh, just stuff. You know how it goes."

"Yeah, I do. And I know you. By the way, I ran into Jenn's mom at the store. She said you were really nice when you visited her this afternoon."

Well, shit. Guess the cat was out of the bag.

"Angela, I was going to tell you."

"You were going to tell me what?" I didn't need to see her to know what look I was getting. I could feel it burning a hole in the side of my head.

I dried the pan and put it away under the cabinet. "I was going to tell you that I have been looking, very discreetly, into Jenn's death."

I leaned back against the cabinet and looked at my sister. I could see the heat building behind her eyes. Since she was young, her temper was like a volcano; it would build slowly, and you never knew whether she would vent off a little steam or completely blow her top.

She looked up at the ceiling for a moment before letting out a long sigh that ended with her slapping her dishtowel hard against the cabinet. Olive stepped through the doorway, assessed the situation, and quickly left the room.

"So, after you told me you would leave it alone? Knowing how difficult you could make it on myself and your niece? You still just couldn't resist, could you?"

She paced back and forth across the kitchen floor, her voice rising as she did. "You know, you've always been like this? Stacy always has to find 'the truth,' no matter the collateral damage her crusade causes. Jesus, Stacy, can't you ever leave well enough alone?"

I fidgeted under her glare before looking away. "You're right. Once something gets in my head, I get obsessed with it. Blinders go on, and nothing matters but reaching the destination. But," I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I wanted to broach the last part. Finally, I decided that if I'd come this far, I could go all the way. "I might be onto something."

Angela frowned at me, her anger temporarily giving way to puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

I explained the extra fibers found on each of the girls and how I discovered that at least two girls never had anything in their wardrobe that would match them. After I finished my explanation, Angela stared out the window for a few moments before turning back to me.

"So, that is odd. But it's also a little far-fetched. You may be trying too hard to find a connection that isn't there."

I nodded. "Trust me, I've been struggling with that very fact for a few days now. I wasn't even sure I wanted to bring it up to you. A colleague advised me to trust my gut instinct, or I may not have even brought it up to you."

Angela picked at her fingernail for a moment as if contemplating everything I'd laid out for her. "Still," she started while still staring at her fingernail. "If something wasn't on the up and up…." She let the thought trail off before looking me in the eyes. "I would want Jenn to have justice."

"I know. I would want that too."

"What did the Coroner's report say?"

"I don't know. For some reason, the report hadn't been turned in yet." I wisely left out the part about getting kicked out of the Sheriff's Department.

"Then, you need to speak to the Coroner. Just for all of our sakes, be discreet."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Intruder

THE NEXT DAY, my trip to the Coroner’s office was a bust. Dr. Travis Brown was still out of town helping a neighboring county and wasn’t expected back till later that day. I had really hoped he would already be back. Now I had no choice but to bide my time until he returned. I decided the logical course of action was to head back to Angela’s place and take it easy. Maybe I would actually get some rest for a change.

As my key entered the lock, Angela’s front door slid open. I froze. I had locked the door when I left this morning; of that much, I was sure. I placed my keys back into my pocket and reached under the back of my jacket, laying my hand on my sidearm. I pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped through.

“Angela? Angela? Are you here?”

Nothing. I closed the door and stood in the entryway, straining my ears for any out-of-the-ordinary sound. I drew my pistol and started working through each room on the first level, ending in the kitchen. Nothing looked out of place, and the backdoor was still locked. I walked back around to the steps and stopped. For a few moments, I stood there, unmoving, watching for any sign of movement upstairs. When I hadn’t heard or seen anything, I stealthily crept up the steps to the second level, carefully avoiding the fourth step. As I had discovered the first day there, the fourth step creaked loudly when you stepped on it. If there was someone upstairs, the last thing I wanted to do was let them know I was on the way up. Once upstairs, I checked Olive’s and Angela’s rooms. In both cases, the rooms looked untouched. Finally, I approached my room. The door was sitting slightly ajar. When I left this morning, I closed it, like I always did.

I took a deep breath and bounded through the door, leading with my weapon. To the untrained eye, the room looked as normal as the other two, but not to me. My ex-partner Bill Logan had taught me how to set up a room so I would know if anything had been disturbed. Every morning before I left the room, I would place hairs on the top edge of my dresser drawers. If someone else opened the drawer, the hair would fall off. As I checked the dresser, I could tell all four drawers had been opened. Next, I turned my attention to the closet. I threw the door open with my left hand while keeping my pistol trained. Besides my clothing being slid to one side, everything looked like it was still there. Satisfied that the intruder was no longer in the house, I slipped my weapon back under my jacket. What the hell was this? It wasn’t a simple attempted robbery. The rest of the house was untouched. Why was my room, in particular, targeted? Suddenly I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I looked up at the air return and noticed that one of the screws wasn’t all the way fastened.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” I muttered as I grabbed a screwdriver from my nightstand and pulled a chair over to the return.

I worked quickly to unfasten the screws holding the grate in place. When both screws were out, I pulled the grate off and tossed it onto the bed. The return was empty. My duffel bag, and all the money in it, were gone. I jumped down off the chair and tossed the screwdriver on the bed. I felt lightheaded as the entire world fell away from me. That was all the money I currently had. Who the hell could have taken it? Who the hell would have even thought to look in the vent for it? They couldn’t have seen it by accident; I pushed it too far back into the return for someone to have glanced up and noticed it. I leaned against the wall briefly before slamming my hand into it.

“SHIT!!!” I yelled to no one in particular. I slammed my hand against the wall several times until it started tingling. Finally, I pulled myself together and turned to look out the window when something caught my eye. Across the street, on top of a picnic table at the park, sat Natalie, the strange girl I had met earlier in the week. She was staring straight up at my bedroom window. When she saw me looking at her, a smile formed on her face, and she waved. Beside her, also on top of the picnic table, was my black duffel bag.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It's a Date

MOMENTS LATER, I stomped across the street, never taking my eyes off Natalie. Ever since I came out of the apartment's front door, she had a smirk. As I approached, the smirk remained, making me angrier. I stopped just short of the picnic table and glared at her.

"What the hell are you doing?" I growled as Natalie sat there with an amused look on her face.

She frowned. "What's the matter? Lose something?"

I glanced around to ensure no one was close by and pulled back my jacket to reveal the pistol I had stuck in my waistband.

"Not as much as you're getting ready to lose," I replied, letting my jacket fall back over the pistol.

Natalie laughed. "Oh man, Stacy, what the hell do you think you're going to do? Shoot me right here in the middle of a park in small-town Kansas, in front of all these people?"

For all my posturing, it was all a bluff, and she knew it. I glanced around the park. Children laughed, and groups of mothers hung out on the park benches.

Natalie chuckled as she patted the table beside her. "Calm down and have a seat. There will be time for fun later."

Reluctantly I took a seat beside her. We sat in silence for a few moments before I sighed. "Okay, what do you want?"

Natalie ignored me and continued to look out across the park. "That's a nice bag you have there. It's got a lot of money in it too. You should consider opening a savings account instead of carrying it around." She paused and glanced over at me, a mischievous grin on her face. "But it isn't your money, is it?"

I looked away across the park. A few moments later, Natalie laughed a mirthless laugh. "That's what I figured. I told you I was a business manager, but I never told you where I worked. Until very recently, I was the front-end business manager for Axion Technologies."

Shit. This was bad. Axion Technologies was the public side of the business run by tech mogul Jim Devos. Behind the scenes, Axion had used their technology to infiltrate the Citadel and almost succeeded in wiping them out. My last encounter with them had led to my back and arm being covered in second and third-degree burns. I thought I was clear of them for good after that.

When I didn't respond, Natalie continued. "Yeah, I was the front-end manager, but I had 'special skills.' I was the wolf among the sheep, you could say. I oversaw all the public-facing operations but could do much more if the situation called for it. Mr. Devos installed me there as a fail-safe."

Natalie looked down and scuffed the bench with her boot. "So, one night, I was awakened by a huge explosion. When I got to my post, a group of SUVs had blasted through the front gate. I knew we were in deep shit. So, I ran out into the confusion, found a medic, and acted like a confused, delirious clerical worker. My 'damsel-in-distress' routine worked perfectly. Of course, I took out the medic and switched clothes with them. Next thing you knew, I was milling about the medic tent. Then, I saw you. I heard a couple of medics talking about how you were the girl that blew up the server building. I've been following you ever since then."

I sat, trying to comprehend my situation. This psychopath has been following me ever since the incident at Axion. Because of that, I accidentally brought a world of trouble to my family. I glanced over at Natalie. She was picking at her fingernails leisurely as if she had all the time in the world.

"So, as I asked before, what do you want?"

Natalie glanced at me with an incredulous look on her face. "Why, I thought that was self-explanatory. You took everything from me; now I get to take everything from you."

"Leave my sister and niece out of this!" I growled as I slid my hand under my jacket to the butt of my pistol.

"Oh, I had every intention of taking them out. But this bag of money you're dragging around changes everything."

"In fact," she continued as she patted the duffel bag. "This bag of money might just buy your sister and her little child their lives."

My grip tightened on my pistol. Slowly, I felt rational thoughts being overrun by the urge to protect my family at all costs. Natalie observed me carefully like a cat would watch its prey, waiting to pounce. The tension seemed to draw to a fever pitch when suddenly it was shattered by Olive bounded up to us.

"Hi, Aunt Stacy!" She exclaimed as she smacked my leg. I immediately released the grip on my pistol and reached out to grab her hand.

To my dismay, Olive turned to Natalie. "Are you a friend of Aunt Stacy?"

Natalie leaned in with a warm smile on her face. "Well, we only met recently through work, but I'm sure we're going to be great friends. I'm Natalie. What's your name?"

"Olive."

"Olive? Well, that's a great name!"

"Olive," I interrupted, determined to cut the conversation short. "Why don't you go play on the swings. I'll join you in a few minutes after I finish up with Natalie."

"Okay! Deal!" With that, Olive took off across the park for the swing sets.

"Cute kid."

I turned and grabbed Natalie by her jacket. "Shut the hell up! I don't want you to ever come near her again."

Natalie reached up and gently pulled my hand off her jacket. "Take it easy, Stacy. I'll make you a deal. Meet me at the Athletic Park tomorrow night. Bring this beautiful bag of money with you, and Olive and her mother won't have a thing to worry about."

I looked at her with a look of confusion. "What do you have in mind?"

Natalie grinned. "Oh, it's simple, really. Come to the Athletic Park at midnight. You can't miss it. It's the only place in this godforsaken town that has real trees. Bring the bag of money and come alone. If you tell anyone about our little rendezvous, your sister and niece are dead. Otherwise, tomorrow night we settle it, for real. If you kill me, you walk away free. If, or should I say, when I kill you, I take the money and go my own way. Easy peasy."

With that, Natalie hopped off the picnic table, leaving the duffel bag beside me. As she walked away, she turned and winked. "See you tomorrow night, don't be late."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Kind of Trouble You Bring

THE FOLLOWING DAY I headed to the Coroner's Office. As hard as I had tried, sleep hadn't come for me. I considered postponing my investigation until after my late-night reckoning with Natalie but decided against it. I needed something to keep me occupied. Otherwise, I would spend the rest of the day thinking about it. Who was I joking? I would spend the day thinking about it anyway. At least this way, I would keep myself busy.

As I walked into the office, I was met by the receptionist. A man entered the office from a rear door as I signed in. He was tall, of average build, with short brown hair and a chiseled jawline. I assumed from his white coat that he must be the Coroner. The receptionist called him over.

" Hi. I'm Travis Brown, the county Coroner." He said as he grasped my hand in his.

I looked up into his grayish-blue eyes, which lit up when he smiled. "Oh, hi! I'm Stacy, Stacy Martinez."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Martinez."

"Oh, it's Ms., actually. But you can call me Stacy." Why in the hell was I suddenly getting so flustered?

Behind me, I heard the door to the office open. I turned in time to see the Sheriff enter and make a beeline for us.

Travis turned to the Sheriff. "Morning, Sheriff James! I wasn't expecting you this morning."

The Sheriff nodded to Travis Brown. "Morning Travis, I was just passing through. Do you mind if I borrow Ms. Martinez?"

Oh, shit.

Before Travis could respond, Sheriff James grabbed me by the arm and escorted me back out of the Coroner's office and onto the sidewalk. Once outside, he let go of my arm and fixed me in his gaze. The Sheriff was probably a foot taller than me and had deep lines on his face. I felt like a small child standing in his shadow.

"Ms. Martinez, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Um, I don't know? I'm not sure what you're referring to?"

The Sheriff shook his head. "Well, where the hell do I start? You harass my employees and impersonate a federal officer to gain access to department files. As if that wasn't enough, you impersonate an employee of the Sheriff's Department and harass a citizen of Jackson. Should I go on?"

I felt my face blushing as I look down at the ground. "No."

"No?" He continued. "You think that's enough?"

"It's just that when I looked through the case files, I found a few things that I thought warranted a second look."

Before I could continue, the Sheriff cut me off. "Look, I know about you and your history. I don't know what kind of trouble you think you are stirring up in this town, but I'm here to tell you, forget it. My department did its job to the best of its abilities. Those cases are closed because there wasn't a case, and that's that."

When I didn't reply, the Sheriff glanced at the Charger sitting across the street. "Is that your car?"

I glanced at the car but didn't reply.

"You know I have reports of a similar vehicle operating around town at high speeds and recklessly. You are lucky no one managed to get the license plate number because if it matched your car, I would impound the vehicle and arrest you."

I bit my lip. What was the point? The Sheriff had obviously made up his mind.

After a few awkward moments, Sheriff James' voice softened slightly. "Listen, the point is, I could arrest you for a litany of offenses, but out of respect for your sister, I'm going to let it slide."

I glanced up at the Sheriff looming over me. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me. I'm doing this for Angela. Your sister has a hard enough time raising a child on her own in this town. She doesn't need the kind of trouble you bring. I can't put it any plainer. Get out of my town as soon as possible. If you slip up one more time, I will throw your ass in jail. Do you understand?"

I stood there for a minute, thinking how much I would love to tear into him, before finally giving him a nod.

"Good. Get out of here, and don't make me regret going easy on you."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Knight in Shining Armor

THE KEEN CUTTER was one of several bars in Jackson. It was your typical small-town watering hole, lit mainly by the neon beer signs on the wall. I sat at the bar contemplating my third shot. Around me, locals watched a football game on the TV, and pool balls clattered behind me as someone broke for a new game. I couldn't care less about any of it. All I could fixate on was the fact that I had screwed up. I alone was responsible for bringing a killer into Angela's world. Her life and her daughter's life were now in danger, and it was entirely because of me. Besides that, I had also managed to get myself, perhaps her by proxy, in hot water with the Sheriff. How had I managed to mess this up so bad? All I wanted to do was lay low for a few weeks and rest. Instead, my baggage had followed me to town and threatened to ruin everything for her. I pounded back the shot and felt the burn travel down my throat. The bartender held up the bottle, but I signaled him to hold off. My night was far from finished. The chaotic journey I had been on for several years faced a possible reckoning tonight. I thought about the strange girl I met in town a few days ago. Tonight she would either kill me, or I would kill her. I didn't want to kill her, but I didn't see any other way. If I didn't, she swore she would kill Angela and Olive. What choice did I have?

Just then, a man stepped up to the bar. I didn't turn to look at him, despite the fact he was standing inches from me. I could smell the whiskey on his breath as he signaled the bartender for another beer.

"Can I get you another of whatever you're having?"

I turned and looked up at him from my barstool. He was tall with long reddish hair and a beard to match. A straw cowboy hat sat atop the unruly mass of hair. He raised his eyebrows at me as he awaited my answer.

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I think I'm probably about finished up here."

"Oh, what's the matter, darling, don't see anything you like?"

I turned to see two more guys behind me. The one who had spoken wore a ball cap and a shit-eating grin. They formed a semi-circle around me, trapping me at the bar.

"Hey, don't take offense, it's getting passed my bedtime, and I need to head home."

I turned to lay my money on the bar when one of them reached out and grabbed my arm.

"That's no way to be! Why don't you come over here with us? Maybe you could be my lucky charm?"

I spun and twisted the man's wrist at a sharp angle. "Not unless you count a broken arm as lucky!"

Before he could respond, I shifted my grip, brought my hip against him, and threw him across the floor. Laughter erupted from several spots around the bar as he pulled himself out of the ground. His face was beet red as he looked around the room, still trying to process what had happened.

Once he got his wits together, he turned toward me. "You're going to pay for that—"

Before he could continue, Travis Brown appeared and stepped between the group of men and me.

"Easy, Scott! Settle down. Do you remember what the deputy told you after last week's football game? The last thing you need is more trouble."

The man stopped and stood there, rubbing his chin. Finally, his friends grabbed their beers and moved back toward the pool tables. The burly one with the cowboy hat put his hand on Scott's back, and without another word, they returned to their pool table on the far side of the bar.

"You okay?"

I turned to Travis; his eyes beamed at me, even in this dim light.

"I'm fine. You know I didn't need you to swoop in and save the day? I can handle myself."

He nodded. "Oh, of that, I have no doubt. But, as much as our friend Scott there didn't need any more trouble, I figured you probably needed it even less."

I chuckled. "Oh, so you heard about my run-in with the Sheriff?"

"Well, I saw it out the window. I don't know the specifics, but I know a chewing out when I see one."

I shrugged. "Well, I probably deserved it."

"I doubt it. Sheriff James can be a bit of a bully when he is wound up. He tends to be pretty protective of the department, so he doesn't like outsiders getting involved."

"I've noticed."

"In any case." He continued. "I felt bad for the way he treated you. The way I understand it, you were looking into the Tanner death?"

"Yeah. I'm just trying to give Angela some piece of mind. A few small things didn't quite add up to me."

Travis raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

I shook my head. I thought about the razor-thin amount of evidence that had sent me down this rabbit hole. I was tired and honestly didn't feel like going over all those details again.

"Oh, nothing major. I don't really feel like talking about it."

"I get it. You've had a rough evening."

I laughed. "I've had a rough year or two."

He smiled the kind of smile that could make small-town living tolerable. "I know what you mean. It's okay. I'll tell you what, why don't I bring the report to your place tomorrow morning? You're staying with Angela, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," I replied before adding. "Do me a favor. Wait till after Angela takes Olive to school. I would rather they not know about any of this."

He smiled. "That's fine. I'll swing by and pick us up some coffee."

"That sounds great."

"Good. It's a date."

"Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves." Damnit. The words slipped out before I could catch myself. Fortunately, he laughed.

"Okay. Fine. Say, you wouldn't happen to want another drink, would you? I have a booth over in the corner. Those guys won't bother you anymore."

That honestly sounded fantastic. But, on this night, I would have to pass. I glanced at my watch.

"I would, but I've had enough already. Besides, I still have some things to do."

He looked at me with an incredulous look on his face. "In this town? At this time of night?"

I smiled at him over my shoulder as I turned to walk away. "You have no idea…."

CHAPTER TWENTY

All Good Things

NATALIE SAT ON the trunk of her car as I pulled up to the Athletic Park. The facility was a collection of baseball diamonds, soccer fields, and basketball courts, all sectioned off by chainlink fence. On the other side of the parking lot were walking trails intertwined with a wooded section. It was a nice park, no doubt the crown jewel of Jackson, Kansas. I eased the Charger into the spot behind Natalie's car. As I did, I noticed her car, a new model Fusion, was a deep blue. So, she hadn't been in the black car I chased earlier in the week. But if it wasn't her, who was in the black car? She may have switched cars after our chase. I made a mental note to check on that. If I survived tonight. Natalie continued to drag on her cigarette, oblivious to the headlights shining on her pale white skin. I switched the car off and got out, sliding the duffel bag over my shoulder.

"You're early." Said Natalie as she threw her cigarette down and hopped off the back of the car.

"I figured there was no use in waiting. Besides, you have no room to talk. How long have you been sitting out here?"

Natalie ground out the cigarette butt under her heel. "Not long. Before we got to business, I wanted to soak in this big night sky." She pointed at my shoulder. "I see you brought the money."

I nodded. "Not that it's going to do you any good."

She laughed. "That's the spirit. So here are the ground rules: no guns, no backup. So if you're carrying a piece, leave it in the car."

I stared at her for a moment before walking to the trunk of the Charger. Slowly I slid my pistol out from under my jacket and placed it in the trunk before closing it.

"Why no guns? I kind of pegged you for a 'by any means necessary type.'"

Natalie shrugged. "I like to play with my food. It keeps it interesting. Now, come on."

I followed Natalie down the path into a wooded area. I stopped at the edge of the woods.

"How do I know this isn't a trap?"

Natalie paused and turned toward me. "What did you think we were going to do? Fight under the bright lights of the soccer field? I wanted some privacy for this."

When I didn't respond, Natalie shrugged. "Okay, fine. You pick the spot then."

I looked around at the small wooded grove in which we stood. "What's wrong with here?"

Natalie looked around for a moment before turning back to me. "Well, it isn't as secluded as I wanted. The last thing we want is for a Sheriff's Deputy to notice when he is out on patrol. But, what the hell, it's your funeral."

I set the duffel bag on a picnic table under a tree and turned to face Natalie. "So, how do you want to do this—"

I jerked my head to the side as a knife narrowly missed me, striking the tree beside the table. I turned to stare at the blade and heard Natalie cackling at me.

"Just like that." She replied.

I turned to face her as I struggled to bring my heart rate under control. The knife had jolted me, and the surge of adrenaline that was now flooding my system was not my friend. Natalie slowly circled closer to me as she pulled another blade from beneath her jacket. I reached into my back pocket, pulled my Bench-made Claymore blade, and flicked it open. In response, Natalie's eyes seemed to twinkle in the moonlight.

"Now we're talking. Let's see what you've got, Stacy Martinez."

We circled ever closer to each other as my heart beat in my throat. Thanks to the adrenaline, all of my senses were in overdrive. I could hear every leaf crunch under my feet, the insects chirping in the night, and my breathing. I needed to calm down. I used to excel in combat. However, it had been a long time since I was in the Bureau, and I didn't have the luxury of a regular training schedule. I watched nervously as Natalie switched the grip on her blade and inched ever closer. Abruptly, she lashed out at me. It was a crisp, swift slash aimed at my mid-section.

Instinctively I stepped back to dodge it, and the blade passed within an inch of my midriff. Natalie immediately brought the knife around in a half circle and slashed down at my neck and shoulder. Again, years of training kicked in, and I evaded her attack as the still-healing skin on my back protested. In response, I threw a slash of my own. It was sloppy and nervous, and she slid around it easily, slashing my arm as she did. I jerked my arm back and stepped away from her. I could feel the sting of the wound as the warm blood flowed underneath my sleeve. Natalie followed me and jabbed her knife at my shoulder. I managed to dodge, but the blade tip grazed me, slicing open a minor cut. Whether it was instincts, adrenaline, or some combination of both, I caught Natalie's wrist as she attempted to jab me again. Shifting my weight, I spun her and slashed the top of her arm and shoulder. Before she could respond, I kicked her in the back, knocking her away from me. I watched as she rolled across the ground and back up onto her feet. She reached back and touched her shoulder. Her fingertips were covered in blood when she pulled her hand back. She held her hand up towards me, showing off the blood.

"Nice. I knew you had it in you." She wiped the blood on her shirt. "Now, let's get serious."

Immediately she stepped forward with blinding quickness. She slashed at me, and I ducked her strike, replying with a slash of my own. She shifted her stance, and my forearm struck her instead of the tip of my blade. She elbowed my shoulder, knocking me off balance, and I felt her blade glide inches from my neck. Instantly the knife shifted directions and slashed at my midsection, ripping my shirt to reveal the vest I had on underneath.

"Oh, you're wearing protection, cheater!" She pouted for a moment. "That's okay. It just makes it more challenging for me."

With that, she stepped in, slashing at my throat and immediately following it up with a jab. I ducked and went to counterstrike, but she blocked my arm and caught me with a knee to my stomach that knocked the wind out of me. I stumbled backward to avoid her blade, and she followed it up with a kick that caught me in the sternum, knocking me reeling across the ground. The scar tissue on my back and arms ached as I struggled to pull myself together. I regained my senses in time to see Natalie attempt to stomp the hand still holding my blade. At the last second, I slid my arm out of the way and slashed her calf, drawing a profound flow of red as the blood seeped out.

"Ow!" Natalie screamed as she hobbled back away from me.

Finding myself suddenly on the offensive, I pushed to my feet and charged Natalie despite the pain of my still-healing skin. I slashed at her throat, but she blocked the move and spun, smashing my hand against a tree. I felt my knife slip from my hand as Natalie shifted her weight and flung my body into the tree. Luckily I turned at the last second and hit it with my shoulder and not my collarbone, but the impact was still jarring. Before I could react, Natalie wrapped her arm around my neck, pulling me back into a rear-naked choke. I struggled, but her grip around my neck was tight. She increased the pressure, and I felt my airway closing. She glanced over her shoulder at my face, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"That was really fun, Stacy. But you know what they say?" She held up her knife for me to see. I knew my throat was exposed to her, and I was totally helpless to stop her.

"All good things must come to an en—"

Instantly red mist sprayed on my face, erupting from Natalie's back. She spun, letting go of my neck and tumbling to the ground. I spun around, disoriented and lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. As I turned, I was struck by something and felt a sharp pain in my chest, spinning my body around as I dropped to the ground, hurled by the impact. As I hit the forest floor, one thought ran through my head.

I had been shot.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Truce

FOR A FEW moments, I lay on the ground of the forest area, the iron smell of blood filling my nostrils as the burning in my chest slowly dissipated. I reached up and felt for the wound. Luckily, the shot had hit the top of my vest. I didn't think it penetrated, but I would still have one hell of a bruise. Once I felt the pain in my chest ebb, I rolled over. Nearby, I saw Natalie. She had also struggled into a semi-seated position, blood seeping out of a wound near her shoulder.

"You bitch! I thought I said no backup!" She sputtered when she saw me rise up.

"Whoever it is, they aren't with me."

"Then why am I the one who got shot?"

"I was shot too. Right after you fell. Whoever it is, they aren't with me."

Natalie was silent for a moment as if contemplating the situation. "How bad are you hurt?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It hit my vest, so I escaped any real damage."

Natalie groaned. "Well, that figures. I don't think it hit anything vital on me. If there's an exit wound, I should be okay."

"There's definitely an exit wound."

"How do you know?"

"Because my face is covered in your blood."

"Good point."

I struggled to my knees and crawled over to a nearby tree, my chest burning like a lump of hot coal pressing into my flesh. Peeking out, I now saw a third car. A black car.

"Shit."

"What is it?" Asked Natalie as she propped herself up against a tree.

"There's been someone following me in a black car. Until tonight, I thought it was you. When I pulled up, I realized your car didn't match."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, that black car is parked in the lot next to our vehicles. I don't know who it is, but we need to haul ass if we're going to survive."

"What's this 'we' shit?"

I shrugged at Natalie. "Strength in numbers? We have issues, but someone is clearly trying to take us out. At this point, I don't think you're in any shape to argue."

Natalie sat for a moment, biting her lip. Finally, she slapped the tree with her good arm. "Fine. Point taken. We have a truce till this is over."

"Good. We need to get under better cover if we stand a chance."

I slid over next to her and nodded toward the woods. "That's our only chance. Out here, we're sitting ducks."

Natalie nodded as I slid her good arm onto my shoulder. Slowly I helped lift her to her feet. We huddled behind the tree, listening for any sign of someone approaching. We heard nothing but crickets and the occasional coo of a night bird. I glanced over at Natalie, maybe it was the moonlight, but her face looked a little paler than earlier.

"You ready? We'll have to keep low and make a break for the tree line."

She took a deep breath and nodded. We huddled close together and broke for the trees, roughly ten feet from our hiding spot. As we reached the tree line, another shot rang out and struck a tree beside our heads. We didn't look back as we dove into the cover of the forest as another shot splintered the trunk of a small tree.

We ran further into the woods, the sparse underbrush grabbing our pants. I pushed a limb out of the way and didn't notice a small stump until I tripped over it, sending us both tumbling.

"Damnit!" Sputtered Natalie as she grasped her shoulder.

"Sorry, I didn't see it in the dark."

I helped Natalie up, and we hobbled further into the shadows provided by the trees.

After a few moments, we stopped to listen. Cricket chirps filled the silence for a few moments.

I turned to Natalie. "Maybe, they left?"

Natalie shook her head. "I doubt it. Although I will say, whoever it is really sucks."

"What do you mean?"

"I've known plenty of assassin types. We should have both been dead before we knew what hit us. Whoever this is, they aren't very good at their job."

"Maybe so, but if we keep giving them chances, they may get lucky."

I felt Natalie shake her head in the darkness. "Yeah, we're injured, and I can't go any faster thanks to the cut on my leg."

"And you're leaving quite the blood trail."

"Thanks for the reminder, captain obvious."

"My point is, we can't keep this up. Even if it's a rookie, they have a gun, and we don't. Sooner or later, I don't like those odds."

"I agree. But what are we supposed to do about it?"

As we sat in the forest's darkness, we heard a stick cracking as if under a boot. I huddled closer to Natalie and whispered into her ear.

"I think I've got an idea."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Night of the Hunter

I CROUCHED BEHIND some undergrowth as Natalie continued through the forest. As she reached the clearing we had hastily scouted out, she collapsed onto the forest floor face down. Now, we wait. For a few minutes, all was quiet. The only sound was the chirping of crickets as the night continued its rhythm. Then I heard it. Off to my left, a stick cracked, then another. My heart raced in my throat. This whole plan depended on my not being discovered. As I waited in the darkness, a thought crept into my head. What if they had night vision goggles? If that were the case, I was as good as dead. I slowed my breathing. I had no way of knowing what kind of equipment they had. All I could do now was concentrate on staying calm and sticking to the plan. My heart raced as I heard another stick crack, this time very close to my position. I resisted the urge to scoot further into the underbrush. The least amount of movement could give me away. Slowly, I saw him come into view. He was about fifteen feet to my left and easing toward the clearing. From his silhouette, I could tell he wasn't wearing night vision goggles. I breathed a sigh of relief. But as he passed my position, I noticed he was carrying a high-powered rifle with a scope and a suppressor. He entered the clearing and approached Natalie. He moved slowly, swinging the gun back and forth. He apparently wasn't convinced that this wasn't a trap. Finally, he stood next to Natalie. This was the moment of truth. Slowly he leaned in and nudged her body with his rifle. She didn't move. In the back of my mind, I hoped she hadn't passed out from lack of blood. He relaxed his grip on the rifle and reached to turn Natalie over. The minute he touched her, she spun over onto her back and kicked the gun out of his hand. With lightning-quick precision, she struck him in the face with a palm strike, stunning him. I had to hand it to her. Injured or not, she had a lot of fight left in her. The man stumbled backward as Natalie rose to her feet. Before she could launch her attack, he stepped forward, striking her on her gunshot wound. She winced in pain, and he backhanded her to the ground. As he straddled her, I saw my opening. He pinned her arms under each of his legs and began choking her. Quickly, I grabbed his rifle and cracked him in the temple with the butt of the gun. He slumped over, unconscious.

I turned to Natalie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I was starting to wonder if you had second thoughts and took off."

I shook my head. "Of course not. I just had to wait until I was sure you had his full attention."

"Whatever." Natalie sputtered as she slowly climbed to her feet. She stood with her hands on her knees for a few moments, seeming unsteady. I reached for her, but she batted my hand away.

"I'm fine." She said as she approached her former attacker. Pulling a flashlight from her pocket, she swept it over him. Surprisingly, he wasn't wearing tactical gear, although he had a shoulder harness with a pistol in it. Natalie reached down and pulled the gun from his holster while I checked his pockets.

"Has he got a cellphone?" Natalie asked.

"No, I don't see one. No ID either."

"Is he wearing a vest under his jacket?"

"No," I replied as I stood up. "Why?"

"Just curious." Replied Natalie, as she shattered the stillness of the night by firing several rounds into his chest.

"Jesus Christ! Why the hell did you do that?" I screamed.

Natalie shrugged. "Two minutes ago, this guy would have choked me to death. Seemed like the right thing to do."

I shook my head. "Well, now we need to get the hell out of here. Someone is bound to have heard those gunshots."

"Eh, it's rural Kansas. They'll just think it was a hunter."

"Maybe. But now we can't question him as to who sent him."

Natalie ran her flashlight over the body once more. "Or which one of us they were really trying to kill. Good point."

She stuck the pistol in her waistband and switched off her flashlight.

"Come on, help me hide the body, and we'll get the hell out of here."

We stashed the body under a pile of leaves behind a fallen tree and headed back.

"So I've been thinking," said Natalie as we made our way through the forest. "Do you think it was the people you stole the money from?"

I shook my head in the darkness. "I doubt it. I don't think anyone knows that the money is missing, and besides, they have no way to trace it to me."

We walked in silence a little further. The only sound was the crunching of the leaves under our feet.

"So, who's money is it?"

"I would rather not say."

"Of course not. But I've been shot tonight, so I need to know."

I sighed. "Fine. I took the money from the Citadel."

Natalie stopped dead in her tracks. "Are you serious?"

When I didn't respond, Natalie continued. "You're either the ballsiest person I know or the biggest idiot. That has to be who sent that goon. Although, I thought they usually dealt in much higher level assassins."

I thought of Xavier, wherever he was in the world. I shuddered to think if he had been the one after us.

"I highly doubt it was them."

"Why?"

"Honestly, they would probably call me if they had a problem with me."

"They have you on speed dial? You're crazy if you trust them."

I shook my head as we continued through the woods. "I don't. But this doesn't feel like them. I mean, it just as easily could have been Devos. He certainly has a bone to pick with me."

"That's impossible. Devos is dead. The Citadel got him when they raided Axion."

I looked back at her through the filtered moonlight. "No, they didn't. He escaped. There was a private airfield at the back of the compound."

Natalie looked away for a few moments as if processing this new information. "No. There's no way. I don't believe you."

"I know it for a fact. I heard the first-hand account of how Devos escaped."

We walked along for a few moments; the only sounds were the crickets and leaves crunching under our feet.

"But, why hasn't he called me if he is alive?" Natalie muttered quietly.

We walked in silence when Natalie turned and punched a random tree. "After all I've done for him. Why did he abandon me?"

Natalie stomped out into the clearing where a short while ago, we had fought. She stopped and swayed back and forth before collapsing to her knees.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, probably blood loss catching up with me." Explained Natalie woozily.

"We don't have much further to go. Hang on a second."

I jogged to the picnic table and grabbed the duffel bag before helping Natalie. With her leaning on my shoulder, we made our way to the parking lot. I unlocked the Charger and eased her into the passenger's seat.

"Wait, no. Take my car!" Protested Natalie as I slid her into the passenger's seat.

"No way. I've been in hot water with the Sheriff, and he knows what car I drive. If a deputy comes patrolling or responding to the reports of shots fired, I can't have my car anywhere near this park."

I climbed into the Charger and started the engine, the rumble of the motor shattering the still of the quiet night.

"Now give me the address for wherever you are staying, and let's get the hell out of here."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

How Much Can You Get For a Clean Conscience

SUNLIGHT STREAMED IN the window as I slowly lapsed into consciousness. Last night Natalie guided me to an extended stay on the edge of town where she had been staying. After we cleaned up her wound, I tried to talk her into going to Urgent Care, but she stubbornly insisted on keeping a low profile. Instead, she had taken something from her own supplies for the pain and passed out in bed. At some point, I must have passed out on the couch from exhaustion. I slowly rolled over on the sofa and let my eyes open. I glanced over at the bed and saw Natalie staring back at me. She looked like death itself. Her face looked even paler than the night before, and she had dark circles under each eye. I slowly raised up on the couch.

“Are we still cool?”

Natalie stared at me for another few seconds before sighing. “Yeah. I mean, even if we weren’t, I’m in no shape to do anything about it.”

I sat up on the couch and rubbed my stiff neck. “I still think you need to go to Urgent Care. I know there was an exit hole, so you’re not worried about the shrapnel, but you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Natalie shook her head. “No way. I don’t need the kind of attention that attracts. Besides, I have a person I can go to when this sort of thing happens. I just need to rest and regain some strength.”

She started to rise up in bed but grimaced and slid back down onto the pillows. “So, why did you save me last night after I told you I would kill you? It would’ve been a lot easier for you to bail.”

I shrugged and instantly regretted it as the pain from the bruise on my chest blossomed outward. “If I’ve learned anything in the last few years, people are just trying to survive. Circumstances and allegiances change. Someone I consider a close ally was once my opposition. It happens.”

Natalie glanced at the ceiling, pondering what I said. “That’s nice, but I don’t know if I would’ve done the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot.”

I grinned. “Well, lucky for me, it wasn’t. Either way, that’s on you. I’ve got a clear conscience.”

Natalie chuckled before grimacing in pain again. “Well, let’s see how much a clear conscience can get you. In my experience, it’s worth jack and shit.”

I shook my head and laughed as I looked down at my shirt. It was covered in Natalie’s blood. “Well, either way, I’ve got to get cleaned up before I can return to my sister’s house.”

“Yeah, that’s not a good look. Wouldn’t want to scare the kid. Tell you what, why don’t you grab a shirt out of the closet. I’m close to your size.”

I stood up, steadied myself, and stretched. My body ached from head to toe as I shuffled to the closet. Upon opening it, I saw a surprising amount of blouses and shirts. I pulled out a black t-shirt and threw it over the chair.

“Excellent choice. We may not always see eye to eye, but I’ve never questioned your taste.”

I shook my head and snickered as I unbuttoned my shirt. Without thinking, I slid it off and tossed it to the floor, my burn scars exposed in under my tank top.

“Jesus, that’s impressive.” Said Natalie. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her eyes had widened as she stared at my back.

“That’s what happens when you play with fire.”

“I suppose so. Looks like it’s healing well.”

I shrugged as I slid the black t-shirt over my head. “I’ve got a good health plan.”

I grabbed my jacket as I headed toward the door. “I’ll pick you up some food and supplies and drop them back off, then I’ve got to head to my sister’s place. I’m sure she’s going to be worried sick.”

Natalie nodded as she lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes. “Take your time. There’s a keycard for the door on the dresser. I’m going to get some sleep.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Unexpected Visitor

THE RUMBLING OF my stomach was almost audible over the growl of the Charger's engine. After leaving the extended stay, I picked up some supplies at the store, including some handy wipes to clean the dried blood off my passenger seat.

Afterward, I stopped by a fast food drive-through and started back toward the extended stay. But the smell of the greasy, savory food that permeated the air had brought me back from survival mode, and my stomach protested nonstop. I contemplated grabbing a handful of tater tots from the bag, but my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Stacy, did you forget about me?"

Oh crap. It was Travis Brown, the town Coroner. I actually had totally forgotten about him. My mind scrambled to come up with an excuse.

"Oh, Travis! I'm so sorry. Something came up at the last minute. Can we do tomorrow instead?"

I heard him sigh. "You sure do stay busy for someone who came to town to rest. I suppose we can, as long as you'll actually be here tomorrow."

"I promise. I'll see you tomorrow morning, same time."

"Sounds like a plan."

I stuffed my phone into my jacket pocket and hoped Travis didn't think I was too big of a flake. I shrugged as I pulled into the parking lot of the extended stay. Nothing I could do about it now. I could see why Natalie picked this place. It was on the edge of town and pretty deserted. The exact kind of place you would stay if you wanted to avoid unwanted attention. I had seen plenty of these over the last couple of years. I grabbed the bags of supplies and food and started to her room. However, as I approached, I noticed the door was cracked open. Instantly I froze in the hallway and eased the bags to the ground. Slipping my gun out of my waistband, I approached the door. Inside I could hear signs of a struggle. I checked the safety of my pistol and charged through the door. Inside, a man had Natalie pinned to the floor with his hands around her throat. Immediately I leveled my weapon at the back of his head.

"Freeze! Stand up and keep your hands where I can see them!"

The man glanced over his shoulder and released his grip on Natalie's throat.

"Easy, lady. I'm standing up now." He said in a voice that was part bass, part gravel pit.

Slowly he raised his hands and rose to his feet. He was tall with a bulkier build than our attacker from last night. He turned to face me as Natalie scooted across the floor away from him. He stared at me with dark eyes sunken into his pockmarked face.

"Take it easy. I'm cooperating."

He took a step forward.

"Stop where you are," I commanded. The large man stopped in mid-stride, still staring at me.

I met his gaze. "If you take one more step, I'll shoot."

He nodded and stood there with his hands up. I glanced back at Natalie, still sitting on the floor, propped up against the dresser. Suddenly, with almost inhuman speed, the man lashed out with a kick that knocked the gun from my hand. Damnit. Before I could recover, he charged and shoved me back into the entryway, knocking the wind out of me. As I struggled to regain my breath, I saw the man chuckling to himself as he bent over to pick up my gun. Before he could grab it, Natalie lunged, hitting him in the back of the leg and causing him to fall back to the floor. There they struggled as Natalie attempted to wrap her arm around his neck. Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet as the man raised up and threw Natalie off of his shoulder like she was a small child. Reflexes took over as I charged forward and struck him in the face. I followed up with a kick that connected with his gut, causing him to stagger backward. Sensing an opening, I threw another punch, but he caught my arm and threw me across the room and into the wall. I saw stars, and my mind raced as I struggled to stand. He threw a kick at my chest that would have collapsed my lungs, but I got my arms up and grabbed his foot, absorbing most of the impact. Holding onto his foot, I braced my foot against the wall and shoved him backward with all the strength I had left. He fell, cracking his head on the coffee table and knocking himself unconscious. I sagged back against the wall, gasping for breath. I glanced over and saw Natalie lying on the floor near the closet. Fresh blood stained the front of her shirt, where her wound had no doubt reopened.

"You okay?"

Natalie looked up, a deep bruise forming on her throat. "Yeah." She replied in a raspy voice. She struggled for a second to catch her breath before continuing. "Do me a favor and close the front door. We need to figure out who this guy is and, more importantly, who sent him."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Expendable

"YOU KNOW THIS guy?"

Natalie shook her head. "Never seen him before. You?"

"Nope."

The large man lay on the floor in front of us, his hands and feet fastened with zip-ties. We quickly got to work and emptied his pockets. We found a couple of receipts, a wallet, a couple of knives, and a cell phone. Natalie looked through the receipts while I sifted through his wallet.

"His ID says his name is 'Jim Dobbins,' although I'm sure that's an alias."

Natalie tossed the receipts aside. "It matches the name on the receipts, but if you were going to use a fake identity, wouldn't you come up with something better than 'Jim Dobbins?'"

She picked up his phone. "Ugh. It's locked with face ID. You know this was a lot easier when it was opened by your fingerprint. Open his eyelids."

I look at her, confused. "What if he wakes up?"

"If he does, I get the extreme joy of beating him unconscious. Now hurry up. There's no other way to open this phone."

I reluctantly squatted down beside the oversized head of Jim Dobbins. Glancing up at Natalie one last time, I reached down and gently pulled both eyelids open. Jim's eyes stared blankly ahead. Natalie worked feverishly, shifting the phone back and forth in front of his face.

"Can you hurry up? This is creepy as hell."

"I'm trying, I'm trying. You have to get it just right."

She flipped the phone around to check it. "There. It's open."

I quickly let go of Jim's eyelids. As I did, I heard him moan quietly.

"Shit. I think he is starting to wake up."

Natalie looked around and reached behind her before throwing me a roll of duct tape. I tore off a strip and pressed it in place over his mouth.

Afterward, I joined Natalie on the couch as she flipped through the phone.

"You find anything?"

"Yeah." Said Natalie as she continued to scroll. "Check this out."

She held out the phone. On the screen was a text conversation between Jim and an unknown number. At the top of the conversation was a grainy picture of me taken from a security feed. I recognized the surroundings.

"That's the server room at Axion."

Natalie glanced over at me. "You sure?"

"You've seen my back. Do you think you would ever forget if it was you?"

She nodded, and we continued reading the conversation. In the subsequent texts, I'm labeled a 'liability,' and Jim is given instructions to handle me. Further down, we find a picture of Natalie and me sitting in the coffee shop. The unknown person on the other end of the text conversation recognized Natalie. He told Jim she was a loose end that needed to be tied up. He then instructed Jim to take both of us out.

"Whoever that was, they knew you too."

Natalie stared at the screen, rubbing her chin. "Why would they label me a loose end?"

"You know it has to be Axion?"

Natalie shook her head. "But I was loyal? Why would they try to eliminate me? Freaking assholes…"

I glanced over at Natalie. "Devos is only loyal to himself. Everyone else is expendable."

Natalie didn't respond. She scrolled through the rest of the phone, but there were no voicemails, calls, or emails. Satisfied, she tossed the phone to the floor and sat back.

"Those assholes. I'll show them who's expendable."

We sat in silence for a few moments before I looked back over at Natalie. She was staring at the window, obviously lost in thought.

"So, what now?"

She continued to stare out the window. "Now? Now, I'm going to call up some friends to pick up me and my new friend Jim. Then we'll find out what he knows, whether he wants to tell us or not." She glanced at me. "You best be gone before they get here."

"Are we cool?"

Natalie nodded. "Yeah, we're cool. You saved my life twice. That's got to count for something. Write your number down on the notepad by the bed, and I'll text you when I find Devos."

After writing down my number, I got up and headed for the door. I stepped out into the hallway and retrieved the bags of supplies, as well as the food. After sitting them on the counter, I turned to leave. I paused at the door and glanced back at Natalie. "I left you some money in the bag with the supplies."

She gave me a stern look. "I appreciate your help, but I'm not a charity case."

"Don't consider it charity. Consider it my investment to help you find Devos."

Natalie stared at me for a few seconds before nodding. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Good luck."

With that, I walked out the door and back to the Charger. I thought about the now cold fast food I had left on the counter and shook my head. I never did get those tater tots. Guess I'll have to settle for whatever Angela had in her fridge.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Decompress

LATER THAT NIGHT, I sat on the bed in my room, attempting to decompress. The last twenty-four hours had worn me pretty thin. Angela was understandably upset that I never came home last night. I told her I had been out later than I thought and decided to sleep at a hotel instead of risking waking anyone up by coming home. It wasn't entirely untrue. In our business, lying was part of the game. So, we were taught the best way to lie was to build it around a nugget of truth. That was one of the things I learned while at the Bureau. And make no mistake, I hated lying to my sister, but she didn't need to know the truth.

I was relieved that I had made peace with Natalie, but it didn't change the fact that I had endangered my family. There had been not one, not two, but three killers on my trail, and I had led them straight to my sister's doorstep. How could I have been so naive and stupid? And who's to say they were the only ones? A chill ran down my spine as I thought about the potential danger to Angela and Olive. I was so irresponsible to come here. On the road, it's my own ass on the line, but now I've also endangered my family. I glanced up at the grate of the air return and the duffel bag that was stuffed within. If I called The Citadel and accepted their offer, would they help ensure Angela and Olive were safe? Would they even care? I shook the thought from my head. The best thing I could do for them would be to get as far away from them as possible. Maybe tomorrow, I'd call Logan and see if his invitation still stood.

There was also the matter of my investigation. Before Natalie threw a wrench in the works, I was supposed to meet with Travis and finally get to see the Coroner's report. I had stood him up this morning, but he took it surprisingly well. It was my luck that I would meet a nice guy who was easy on the eyes and then have to leave town without explanation. I mean, what could I say? 'Sorry, I have assassins on my trail, so I must go.' I mean, who does that? I wanted to finish looking into the deaths, but I felt I needed to leave town in case anyone else followed me. If I was lucky, I could call in one of the few favors I have left at the Bureau and pass the report on for them to review. That sounded like the best plan of action. Tomorrow I would get up, enjoy coffee with Travis, and check the report. Then I would pass it on to a friend at the Bureau and leave it up to them to follow up on it. That afternoon I would tell Angela something had come up and I needed to leave town. I hated not finishing what I had started. Still, I couldn't bear placing Angela and Olive in danger for another moment. I rolled over and turned out the light. Tomorrow I would say goodbye to this sleepy town and be back on the road.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Everything is a Nail

I HAD BEGUN to worry that he would stand me up when I heard the knock at the door. Moments later, we sat on the couch in Angela's living room, the aroma of blueberry muffins and coffee filling the air.

"Sorry I flaked on you yesterday. It's been a crazy week."

Travis sipped his coffee and smiled. "It's okay. Although, I will say, you seem busier than anyone else in this town."

I laughed as I thought about everything that had happened in the past thirty-six hours. If Travis only knew…

"So," he said, reaching into his bag. "Here is the report you wanted to see. Just don't tell the Sheriff I let you look at it."

I shook my head. "Trust me, I don't plan on speaking to the Sheriff again if I can help it.”

"I don't blame you." Replied Travis before biting into a muffin.

I flipped through the pages while absentmindedly sipping my coffee. Nothing looked out of place. However, it was a bit basic. Maybe I'm used to a more thorough report, but this seemed minimal.

"Satisfied?" Asked Travis after I had flipped through the last page of the report.

"Yeah…"

"But?"

I sighed and laid the report on the coffee table. "I don't know. I guess I was expecting more."

Travis shrugged. "I get it. But, I mean, there wasn't much to it."

"Yeah, I get that. But how does a girl this young die of 'natural causes?' It just doesn't make sense."

"I felt the same way. I even followed up with her medical doctor in case there was an underlying condition that I didn't know about. There was nothing."

"But she was so young. It doesn't seem possible that she would be young and healthy, then suddenly pass away."

Travis shook his head. "It happens all the time."

"Yeah, I know. But when I saw the other girls… I don't know. It just put up a red flag for me. My gut instinct was that there was something more to it."

"Other girls?"

"Yeah, the other girls. Over the past three years, a handful of healthy and athletic girls passed away at a young age."

Travis' brow furrowed. "How did you come upon this information?"

"Local library. One of my specialties at the Bureau was research. When I see that many in that short of a time in a small population, it tends to seem suspicious to me."

"I suppose that's natural. After all, everything is a nail to someone with a hammer."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that, given your background, it would be in your nature to be suspicious. More coffee?"

"Oh, sure." I handed him my cup as he reached into the bag and pulled out a carafe. After he refilled my cup, he returned it with a couple of creamers.

I nodded at the report as I fixed my coffee. "That may be true, but that doesn't mean there isn't something going on that no one noticed. For instance, there is the matter of the fibers."

"What fibers?"

"In the police reports, they made reference to fibers that were found on Jennifer's body. They seemed to think they were wool."

"Yeah. I actually spoke to the police about that. We decided that was a coincidence in Jennifer's case and was most likely from a blanket or jacket she had worn recently."

"I doubt it. I checked her closets, and she doesn't have any blankets or coats that would contain them."

"Wow. You have been looking into this thoroughly, haven't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I also know for a fact that the fibers were also found on the other girls."

"Really? Interesting."

I watched Travis over my coffee as I took a long gulp. Even with a good night's sleep, I still felt the effects of the last two days. I needed all the caffeine I could get.

"I'd like to pass this report and the other three to a friend at the Bureau. They could take a look and figure out if there is a connection. If you don't mind?"

A cloud seemed to pass over Travis' face. "I mean, Stacy, do you really think that is necessary? I admit, it's a tragedy that a girl died, but I hardly think this is a matter to call in the FBI."

"And I would agree if it was one girl. But this isn't just one girl when you zoom out and see the bigger picture. This is multiple girls in a sparse population over a relatively short time. That seems to indicate a pattern."

I sat my coffee on the table but missed the coaster, almost sending it tumbling. I fumbled with it and managed to steady it. What was going on? My fingers tingled slightly. I pulled my hand back and massaged them to get feeling back in them.

"And you would like that, wouldn't you?"

I stared at Travis. The sudden cruelty in his voice caught me totally by surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Travis held my gaze for a few moments. "You would love to find something that would get you back in the Bureau's good graces, wouldn't you? I mean, I don't blame you. You must be missing those Federal paychecks."

My cheeks flushed as I felt my heart rate rise. "That's not it at all! You can't sit here and tell me that those girls dying in that short time don't strike you as odd?"

The last few words slurred as my tongue felt thick in my mouth. Maybe I hadn't recovered as much as I thought. I definitely needed a nap after Travis left.

Travis nodded and picked up the folder off the table. "Maybe. But what struck me as odd was that our little town had been peaceful and quiet until you rolled in, filled with conspiracy theories and accusations. You even got into a fight at the bar the other night. Given your history, what am I supposed to think?"

I felt the anger welling up inside me like a volcano about to erupt. Yet, I couldn't entirely focus on it. My brain felt sludgy, and even though I was angry, I couldn't manifest it for some reason. It seemed to be slipping away into a fog.

"You need to leave!" I replied as I sprung to my feet. When all at once, it was like all the stability and strength left my body. As if standing up had used the last of my reserves. The room started to spin. I tried to focus, but my mind refused. I heard Travis say something but couldn't figure out what it was. I glanced at the coffee on the table. Amongst the cacophony of thoughts and noises running through my head, one rang out over the rest.

I had been drugged.

I glanced at Travis, who had moved closer to me now. I reached out, attempting to push him away, but my arms were like rubber. He brushed them aside, and I felt him lowering me onto the couch as everything faded to black.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Death is a Delicate Art

I DIDN'T KNOW how long I'd been out when I finally faded back into consciousness. The first thing I noticed was that I felt as if something was fastened to my face. I tried to reach and feel what was there, but my hands wouldn't move. Why wouldn't my hands move? I tried to twist my body, but my legs wouldn't move either. My mind felt as if it was full of concrete. I desperately tried to remember where I was, but my thoughts came slow, like molasses on a cold Kansas winter day. I lay there, lost in my haze for what felt like forever. My thoughts drifted along as I did. After a while, I felt my strength returning, and I shook my head, trying to wake up. At that point, my memories all came rushing in at once, like a roaring waterfall. The argument. The coffee. I had been drugged!

Instantly my eyes sprang open. There was a mask of some sort over my face. I panicked and tried to bring my hands to my face, only to discover they were bound above my head. A quick tug of my leg confirmed that my ankles were also tied. I strained to lift up my head and look around. Through the limited vision allowed by the mask, I saw that I was in my room, upstairs in Angela's house. I could also see a hose running from the mask to a tank on the nightstand beside the bed. I glanced down and discovered I had been stripped down to my tank top and underwear. I almost hyperventilated as I continued to strain against my restraints. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement and turned my head to see Travis entering the room. He smiled at me as I lay exposed on the bed. He checked the tank and placed a cold hand on my stomach. I struggled furiously at my restraints as my skin crawled from his touch.

"There, there, take it easy. Hope you had a nice nap?"

I forced my breathing to slow. No matter how bad of a situation, I needed to get my nerves under control.

When I didn't respond, Travis shrugged and continued. "So, you must be pretty confused right now, and I don't blame you. I would be too. I really liked you, Stacy. However, I've got a pretty good thing going here, and I can't have you poking around and stirring things up."

He gestured towards the tank. "So, what I have here is an oxygen tank. Currently, it's supplying you with breathable air. Now, in a few moments, I'm going to turn the tank off, at which point you'll run out of air and suffocate."

Travis paused as if waiting to see if I had any questions. I continued to stare at him in silence. He continued when he was sure I didn't have anything to say.

"Now I have your hands and feet bound with silk, but I've taken the precaution of placing wool padding between the ties and your skin to minimize the damage. Hence the fibers you found on the other girls. Once you've passed, I'll remove all the evidence and set up the scene. I'll crush up some pills and put them in your mouth and on the nightstand. And since I'm the coroner, I can even fix the report to show it was a suicide."

"You bastard."

He grinned. "I knew I would get a response out of you eventually. I have to thank you for pointing out my errors. Only having to deal with small-town law enforcement caused me to grow sloppy. Those fibers would have eventually become a problem if someone had paid attention. Now, I'll have to find another way or cover my tracks better. You see, death is a delicate art, and I'm an artist. I take life and then rearrange it. I construct the exact scene that I want people to see. It's like a diorama. In your case, it will tell the story of a suicide victim. Poor little crazy Stacy couldn't take it anymore. Her mental health took her job, and then her life."

I pulled at my restraints, ignoring the pain of my scarred skin. "You son of a bitch!"

Travis laughed at my display as he checked his watch. "Oh well, time to get on with it. I don't have all day. I wonder who will find you first; Angela or her daughter?"

With that, Travis reached over and turned off the valve supplying me with oxygen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Desperation

I WATCHED TRAVIS walk out of the room and felt the oxygen flowing into my mask begin to wane. My heart rate rose rapidly until I felt it in my throat. That was one thing I did not need. I absolutely could not panic now. I remember how my dad taught me to hold my breath underwater as a kid. It would hopefully buy me some time if I could hold my breath. I attempted to suck what was left of the air into my lungs, but the supply had run out. I yanked at my restraints repeatedly, but they wouldn't budge. My mind raced as I tried to figure out a way to get the mask off my face. I felt my vision going cloudy from lack of oxygen. I only had moments before I would pass out. I didn't want it to end this way. I was horrified at the thought of Angela or Olive finding me like this.

Wait. Olive. For some reason, she stood out in my head. What was it Olive had told me in this very room? What did she say?

'Be careful! Mom didn't tell you, but the frame sometimes comes out of the headboard. I was jumping on it one day, and it fell apart and threw me into the floor.'

That's it! Instead of pulling on my restraints, I began to push on them with everything I had left. My vision blurred, and spots swirled before my eyes as I pushed against the bed frame with every last ounce of strength. Finally, I heard a crack, and the side rail popped loose from the headboard, sending me crashing to the ground. I tumbled off the mattress, my hands still fastened to the headboard as it fell on top of me. My adrenaline kicked in now as my lungs ached for oxygen. I only had moments before he would be back. I had to find a way out. I looked to the side and saw my pants lying on the floor, my knife sticking out of the back pocket. Could I reach it? I twisted my body as the still-healing skin on my back and arms protested. I slid my hand closer, dragging the headboard with me until I finally reached my blade. I flipped it open, maneuvered it, and slid the blade between my wrist and my restraints. Straining, I sliced through the strap and freed my hand. Quickly, I cut my other hand and feet free. I yanked the mask from my face and gulped a lungful of oxygen just as Travis burst through the door.

Before I could react, he kicked the knife out of my hand and rained down on me with stomps to the side of my head. I nearly passed out from the combination of the blows and the rush of oxygen back into my system. I tried to focus my brain on fighting back but slumped against the wall as I felt the weight of Travis' knee on my chest. I could feel him scrambling around for something as I tried to get my thoughts together. Suddenly, I felt the mask slipping back over my face. No! Come on, Stacy, fight back! At the last second, another surge of adrenaline flooded my system, and I grabbed the mask, struggling to keep it from sealing on my face. However, he had the leverage, and I felt the mask slowly slipping back into place. I desperately struggled, slapping and pushing at him, trying to gain some advantage. Amid my life-or-death struggle, I got out from under Travis' knee, and he fell forward, releasing his grip on the mask as he did. I felt his breath in my hair and realized his head was now just inches above mine. I reached up, trying to find some way to cause damage. As my thumb found his eye, I felt his hands wrap around my throat. He tightened his grip, and I felt my throat constricting as desperation filled my mind. My body was weak, and my mind raced. Out of sheer instinct, I pushed my thumb into his eye socket as hard as I could manage. I felt liquid begin to flow, and Travis screamed as he pulled back from me, grabbing at his injured eye. In a daze, I reached up and removed the mask once again. Oxygen flooded my lungs, and I felt lightheaded. I looked up and saw that Travis had his back turned to me as he grabbed his face, trying to assess the damage.

I needed to regroup while I had the chance. I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. I looked around but didn't see my knife anywhere. Slowly I used the nightstand to help pull myself to my feet. My arms and legs felt like jelly, both from being drugged and from lack of oxygen. I leaned against the wall, spent, gasping for air, bracing myself for his next onslaught. At that moment, I realized I was staring at the oxygen tank on the nightstand. As Travis turned to face me, his right eye bleeding profusely, I grabbed the tank and swung it as hard as possible. The tank bounced off the side of his head with a loud crack, and he slumped to his hands and knees. Without hesitation, I swung again, striking the back of Travis' head as he fell flat on the ground. I drew back to lash out again, but there was no need. He was no longer moving. For several seconds I stood over him, tank in hand, waiting to see if he stirred. When he didn't, I stumbled over to my pants and collapsed to the floor. After a few moments, I finally grabbed my phone and dialed 911.

CHAPTER THIRTY

On the Road Again

"HOW'S YOUR THROAT?" Asked Angela as she eyed the fresh bruises. The swelling had gone down on my cheek, but it and my throat were still shades of purple.

"It's fine, really. It's not as bad as it looks."

It had been several days since the Sheriff's deputies had burst into Angela's home and discovered me lying in a heap in the corner of the bedroom. When they searched Travis' house, they found a secret room inside his closet where he had kept trophies and notes from all his kills. Before moving to Jackson, Kansas, he had started in a neighboring state. Thanks to me, a lot of families were going to get closure. Afterward the raid on Travis' house, the Sheriff apologized for misjudging me.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Olive, who offered me a cookie. I smiled as I took it from her.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Asked Angela as she snuck a cookie off of Olive's plate.

"I think she could be a private investigator!" Said Olive with a grin.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

Olive smiled. "And I could help you!"

I shook my head, laughing. "I don't know about that. You're probably a bit too young."

"Maybe!" Olive replied as she stuck her tongue out.

Angela patted her on the head. "Why don't you run along and let your Aunt rest a little?"

After she had left, Angela leaned in closer. "Thank you again. I'm sorry for doubting you. That creep would still be out there if it wasn't for you. None of us would be safe."

"You're welcome. The bad thing is, I liked Travis. He seemed so nice on the surface."

Angela laughed. "So, you're an ace investigator but a horrible judge of men?"

"Apparently."

"So, seriously, what are you going to do now? You know you're welcome to stay with us for a while."

I thought of how lovely hanging out in this quiet little town would be. But then I remembered what had happened a few days prior. As much as I wanted to stay, I had to keep moving. If for no other reason than to keep Angela and Olive safe.

"I don't know. I'm thinking of visiting a friend."

"Oh yeah? Anybody special?" Angela said with a wink.

"Ha! No! Just an old friend."

Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at the number. I recognized the area code as Montana, the same as Logan's.

"Hello?"

"Stacy Martinez?" Asked the voice on the phone.

"Yeah. Who's asking?"

"Ms. Martinez, this is Steve Johnson. I work at the Montana office with Bill Logan."

"Hi. I don't understand. What is going on?"

"Well, ma'am, you're listed as the emergency contact for Bill Logan. I don't know how to tell you this, but last night, his cabin exploded."

My heart sank, and I felt like the entire world had collapsed. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Stacy, what's wrong?" Asked Angela.

I waved her off as I returned my attention to the phone. "Is he?"

"We don't know, ma'am. They are still putting out the fire. We haven't found a body yet, but we are fairly sure he was home because his vehicle was parked out front."

Before replying, I bit my lip and steadied the emotions that threatened to pull me under.

"Okay. I'm on my way."

I hung up the phone and slid it into my pants pocket. Without thinking, I stood up and started upstairs to get my things.

Over my shoulder, I heard Angela. "Stacy, what's wrong? Where are you going?"

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to her. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Go? Where?"

"Montana."

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Former punk rocker, musician, web designer, artists, tea drinker, documentarian, nature lover, part time writer of Haiku, and most importantly, thriller author. I’ve seen many a gritty backroom and alleyway and my stories draw inspiration from that time. When I'm not writing and reading, I'm tending garden, hiking and hanging out on a tropical beach.

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One - Occupational Hazard

Chapter Two - Twilight Ride Through the Plains

Chapter Three - We Don't Want Any Trouble

Chapter Four - The Interrogation

Chapter Five - Outsiders

Chapter Six - If You Never Ask, the Answer is Always No

Chapter Seven - Chasing Ghosts

Chapter Eight - Coffee with a Side of Trouble

Chapter Nine - Don't Let Your Imagination Get the Best of You

Chapter Ten - A Special Kind of Hell

Chapter Eleven - You Need to Be More Careful...

Chapter Twelve - Don't Question Your Instinct

Chapter Thirteen - A Uniquely Kansas View

Chapter Fourteen - Cacophony

Chapter Fifteen - Be Discreet

Chapter Sixteen - Intruder

Chapter Seventeen - It's a Date

Chapter Eighteen - The Kind of Trouble You Bring

Chapter Nineteen - Knight in Shining Armor

Chapter Twenty - All Good Things

Chapter Twenty-One - Truce

Chapter Twenty-Two - Night of the Hunter

Chapter Twenty-Three - How Much Can You Get For a Clean Conscience

Chapter Twenty-Four - Unexpected Visitor

Chapter Twenty-Five - Expendable

Chapter Twenty-Six - Decompress

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Everything is a Nail

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Death is a Delicate Art

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Desperation

Chapter Thirty - On the Road Again

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Tears of the Dragon

The Osiris Initiative

About the Author