Page 112 of The Devoted Game

“Stop right there.”

Ryan stopped in front of a headstone. The moonlight provided enough illumination for him to make out the name.

Daniel Fincher

Our Angel

“Ryan McBride, meet Daniel Fincher, my son.”

When you got past all the other bullshit, for Martin Fincher, this was what the whole nightmare was about. This and the wife he’d kept at home long after her death.

Ryan turned to face Fincher. He wagged the weapon to remind Ryan not to forget.

“I’m sorry about your son, Fincher. But hurting Grace won’t bring him back.”

Fincher shook his head. “It was all their fault. They should have been more careful. Walmart trains their employees to watch for things like that.”

“What about you?” Ryan asked, taking a risk. “Where were you when Daniel went missing?”

Fury contorted Fincher’s face. “Daniel and his mother went to Walmart. Deirdre fainted and the paramedics had to be called. Her heart,” he said pointedly. “We didn’t know then. Katherine Jones should have been watching out for Daniel, but she wasn’t. By the time I got there, he was gone.

“And that Allen Byrne,” Fincher snarled, “he sacrificed security to make another dollar when he already had more than he could possibly ever hope to spend. Trenton, Worth ... they were all responsible for the pain. They all found their atonement.”

“Some more than others,” Ryan reminded him. “Worth is dead.”

“That wasn’t my doing.” Fincher shook his head firmly. “That was your mistake.”

“You’re right,” Ryan agreed. Trying to cajole the guy since confrontation hadn’t worked. “It was my fault.”

“Sit down,” Fincher ordered. “Lean against the headstone.”

Ryan held his ground. “I’ve done everything you asked. But this is as far as I’m going. If you don’t give up Grace’s location, you’ll just have to shoot me now.”

“I am not a murderer.” Fincher inclined his head and studied Ryan. “You must know I would never be so crass. Deirdre would never forgive me. I cannot let her down. She needs a hero, and since you have failed to live up to her expectations, I have no choice but to step up to the task. I’ll be her hero now.”

Sweat rose on Ryan’s skin. The fear expanding inside him closed his throat. Fincher was right. Ryan knew better than to believe it would be this overt or easy.

Fincher glanced at his wristwatch. “In twenty minutes, unless help arrives, the lock on the door to the unit where Nameless is being held will be released with a nice little popping sound that will alert him to the change.”

Ryan gritted his teeth to hold back the anguish ripping him open inside.

“How long do you suppose it will take him to get to her?” Fincher shrugged. “There’s a hammer and a crowbar lying outside her door. The handy backpack in the SUV was full of wonderful tools. Oh,” he added as if he’d only just remembered, “and the key to the lock on Agent Grace’s door.”

Sheer hatred lashing through him, Ryan lowered to a crouch, then took a seat atop the blanket of earth covering Daniel Fincher. He leaned against the headstone when what he wanted to do was pounce on that son of a bitch. But he couldn’t. Not until he knew Grace’s location.

“Your blood is going to spill, McBride,” Fincher warned, “in atonement for your sins.” He set the brown bag on the ground at Ryan’s right hand. “Drink. It won’t hurt so much if you numb yourself.”

“Nice to know you’re concerned about my comfort.” Ryan reached into the bag and brought out a fifth of Jack Daniel’s. It was the first good thing that had happened all night. He opened it and took a healthy swig. “Now make the call,” he told the bastard, his tone dead cold.

“More,” Fincher ordered.

Ryan chugged a few more swallows, his throat and gut seizing at the burn. “Make the damned call,” he repeated. He didn’t need a watch to know the minutes were ticking down.

“In the bag,” Fincher said then, “there is a blade from a box cutter. Take it out.”

At least now he knew what Fincher had in mind. Ryan reached into the bag and pulled out the blade.

“Cut your right wrist first, then your left. As soon as you’ve made the second cut, I’ll call 911 and provide Grace’s position. I’m certain the Bureau will be thrilled to have captured the other half of the accomplice killers known as Nameless in addition to finding Grace alive and well.”