Page 36

CHAPTER 36

I turned to look for the cane and was hit from behind. Air escaped my lungs with full force, and I lost my footing, falling face first onto the sandy hill. The sharp grasses cut at my face and hands. I pushed up to my knees and did my best to spit the sand out of my mouth, to wipe it from my eyes with my shirt sleeve.

I knew what had hit me.

And who.

I scrambled back at the sight of a pair of boots, attached to a pair of legs, attached to a man.

Terrence Slade.

But … how?

And though I still didn’t understand why he’d come after me and those I loved, there was a connection, after all, between that case in Jackson Hole over a decade ago and the human-trafficking case I’d solved in Savannah.

But again … how?

I’d just spoken with him last night.

He’d been at his house in Jackson Hole.

My contact had confirmed it.

As the realization dawned that I’d been duped, I cursed myself for not pinging that call. Such a simple investigative maneuver, yet I’d dismissed it—because I’d felt so certain that it was just too complicated for the villain to have been him. The simplest conclusion was usually the right one, per Occam’s Razor, and that had been my reasoning for not bothering with tracing this man’s phone.

Each of us took a fighting stance.

Him with the cane.

Me, crouched, with my martial arts training, two strong legs, and two bare hands.

No more waiting.

I launched myself at him, coming in with an intended throat punch. He swung the cane, and I juked backward. At the same time, I managed to catch the end of the cane with one hand, then two, and I twisted. He lost his grip, eyes wide with surprise when I turned full circle, the cane now in my hands.

Was I that good, or had he let me win the round?

I wielded the cane like a baseball bat, and he grunted a menacing laugh, holding his hands in the air, as if giving up the fight.

“Well done, Sloane. And so good to see you again. My brother enjoyed talking with you last night.” He winked. “I knew you’d call.”

His brother? So, that was how it had happened.

“Your brother ? Why would he pretend to be you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re the reason we lost our lucrative side hustle.”

“Human trafficking?”

“That, and all the dirty work that comes with it. What else would I be talking about?”

“It was you , wasn’t it? You were involved in Olivia’s abduction all those years ago.”

He sneered, twisting his face into an evil grin. “It’s about time you put it all together.”

I’d just about pieced it all together, but questions remained.

“I’m guessing it’s the reason you lured me here, to Savannah, the place I took down Hugh Barnes,” I said.

“Hugh was my friend. We worked together back then, before you meddled in a business that wasn’t any of yours. You ruined everything. Everything! I thought I could put it all behind me. But I couldn’t. I stewed for years, and then one day, I decided there was only way I’d ever get past it. I needed to take you down.”

My breathing was short and rapid, the adrenaline and the cool wind cutting my lung capacity, despite my physical fitness. Not to mention my gritty eyes, which had started watering. With my vision blurred, all I had to go on was instinct now.

“This … is over,” I said.

Another laugh. “Oh, but it’s not.”

He withdrew a pistol from his waistband. “On your knees.”

My first instinct was to lunge, reach for the gun.

But I knew better.

He had the upper hand—for now.

I moved to my knees.

“Throw me the stick,” he grunted.

I tossed the cane back to him.

My mind whirred. I had been unprepared for the showdown—just reacting instead of working within my typical well-planned offensive. Terrence was going to shoot to kill.

I need one more chance . One more chance to make things right. To put him behind bars, protect my loved ones.

The click of the gun cocking echoed in the wind.

A voice from behind the dune rang out. “Terrence Slade, put the gun down.”

Every part of my body was trembling, and I fought to stay upright. Relief surged through me, and I gave in to the feeling, falling to the sand …

A gunshot cracked through the air.

I jolted and covered my head. It was impossible to tell for sure, but it seemed like I could hear the whoosh of the bullet near my ear.

Then more gunshots. I stayed low.

“How could I have missed her? Such an easy shot,” Terrence said, like he was talking to himself. Then, shouting now, “You’re good, officers. But you didn’t hit the bullseye. Not yet.”

I lifted my head. Terrence had shifted his position, taking cover behind several massive boulders.

I turned and saw two officers.

They dropped to their bellies amidst the sea grass and shrubs.

If one of their bullets hit the boulders, it could ricochet and hit any one of us.

I prayed they had backup.

“Officers, I care not if I live or die,” Terrence bellowed. “Just stay out of my way while I take care of some unfinished business.”

Another shot rang out.

This time, Terrence hit his mark.