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G
wen put miles between herself and home,
unsure whether she’d be returning. Two suitcases sat in the trunk filled with clothes and personal items. If she never returned, she wanted to seem like a woman unable to cope, who’d ditched her family in an effort to escape life’s problems. It hurt to think that if she was killed, everyone would see her as a coward, but maybe that would give her the edge of desperation she needed for survival. It was too late to worry about it now. The die had been cast.

She drove hard, pushing the speed limit all the way. She only stopped for gas. She needed to eat, but the idea of it turned her stomach. The junk food she’d bought when she filled up for gas remained unopened on her passenger seat.

A hundred miles south of Fort Richardson, her legs developed a shake. She didn’t know whether to put it down to low blood sugar or fear. The shaking wasn’t a good sign either way. She pushed the problem from her mind and kept driving.

Road signs for Fort Richardson counted down the final miles, but she ignored them. She had to visit somewhere else first. She drove out to the home she’d grown up in. It had been painted green in her day. It was a pleasing shade of red now. The detour had a calming effect. As she stepped out of the car to stretch her legs and get a closer look, she found she was smiling. This place was filled with
so many happy memories, but it wouldn’t be for long. This place would become synonymous with Stephen Tarbell. She’d never be able to return here. The stain would be too indelible. Her smile fell away.

She went back to her car and picked up the main highway running through the area. She pulled out her cell and called Parker’s number.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“In position.”

“How is everything?”

“Busy. There are more people here than I would like. Rangers are hanging around.”

“It’s early yet. Nothing happens until the park closes.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“If I’m wrong, it doesn’t matter. If Tarbell kills me and there are witnesses, he’s screwed. He’ll go to prison and your work is done for you.”

“You want me to walk away if he gets picked up?”

“Yes.”

She could hear Parker’s mind working. A way out was presenting itself where he didn’t have to kill Tarbell.

“But he has to be picked up at the park, smoking gun in hand,” she said.

“Christ, Gwen, are you really going to let this guy kill you?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“But you’re willing to die for this prick.”

“Not for him. For my family. I won’t let him hurt them any more than he has. I would die to protect them.”

That silenced Parker. It was understandable. She doubted he had anyone in his life who would do the same for him. Parker looked out for Parker. No one fought for him, and he had no one to fight for. Selflessness was an alien concept to him.

“Have you seen Tarbell?” she asked.

“No. I’ll call you if I do.”

“I’ll have the phone on, but I
won’t be taking any calls until this is over. He believes I have this phone solely for talking to him. If he catches me talking on it, he’ll know I’m lying.”

“OK. I’ll hang up. Good luck, Gwen. I mean that. Just know I’ve got your back, OK?”

“Thanks.”

She put the phone in the cupholder next to her and concentrated on her driving. Images of Paul lying in his hospital bed, tubes and wires spilling from him, and Kirsten playing with J. Edgar kept filling her head, but she squeezed them out. Her family was all that mattered to her, but they couldn’t distract her. Not now. If she wanted to survive today, Tarbell had to be her focus. It was all about how to lure him into the shadows for Parker to do what he was being paid to do. It wouldn’t be easy. The situation was tenuous. Tarbell’s enthusiasm for punishing her might mean he got to her before Parker got his chance, but she didn’t think this was likely. As much as Tarbell thought he was better than everyone, he was a product of his obsession. All his hate was focused on her. As long as it remained that way, he wouldn’t see Parker until it was too late.

She wished she relished this moment, but killing Tarbell would bring her no pleasure or even closure, despite all he’d done to her and her family. Killing him was simply an act of survival. He was a virus that threatened to consume her if she didn’t stamp him out. Parker had been right when he said that this act wouldn’t leave her. She already knew it wouldn’t. A dark cloud would follow her forever, but it was the price that came with being the object of Tarbell’s twisted obsession.

She parked her car on the street half a mile from the park. She couldn’t leave it in the park’s parking lot. She would be leaving the park long after everyone else. Her car would draw attention after a while.

She got out and pulled on her waterproof jacket. Rain fell at a steady pace. The grim weather seemed to suit the occasion.

She emptied her pockets of her money,
driver’s license, and anything that could identify her onto the hood of the car, gathered them into a bundle, and leaned in through the passenger side to shove the bundle in the glove box. She needed only two things—her cell phone and Lynette’s revolver. The gun was in the rain jacket with six rounds in the cylinder and another twelve loose in a pocket. She grabbed the cell and locked the car. Then she hit speed dial for Tarbell.

When he answered, she said, “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Still on my way,” Tarbell lied. He watched Gwen through a pair of binoculars from a nice little hiding spot he’d carved out for himself in the trees opposite Fort Richardson’s entrance. He’d staked out the park since early morning. He wasn’t stupid. He would like to believe Gwen was telling the truth about sacrificing herself as part of some noble act, but he just didn’t buy it.

He needed to see what she had planned, and more importantly, who she’d dragged into this game. He didn’t know who would be her ally these days. He’d pretty much made sure she was alienated from everyone, but maybe there was someone he’d missed. The scheme was too elaborate for the cops. They wouldn’t take a chance like this with a civilian. Now, Private Security International was a different matter. They weren’t confined by rules and regulations, let alone the accountability of the police. It was a shame Petersen was dead. His knowledge would be very useful right now.

Tarbell waited to spot Gwen’s knights in shining armor. The moment he saw them, he’d be gone. He wouldn’t be drawn into a fight. He’d simply go home and take it out on Kirsten and Paul. It would make for a nice welcome-home present for Gwen. Of course, maybe it was just his paranoia driving him to believe she had a horde of supporters in the wings. She could still be a lone wolf, but a wolf, lone or otherwise, was
a dangerous animal. He couldn’t trust her. That was why he’d staked out the spot she named in her instructions.

“Where are you?” he asked as he watched her.

“I’m heading into the park.”

“You’re early. You wouldn’t be screwing with me, Gwen, would you? I wouldn’t like that. You know what I’ll do if you cross me.”

“I’m just here early, Stephen. There’s no need to panic.”

“I’m not panicking, just warning you.”

He had watched as Gwen walked around to the front of her Subaru and, leaning against the hood, emptied her pockets of cash and credit cards. With that task finished, it looked as if she had nothing on her except what she stood in. It was an interesting move that got his attention. It definitely looked as though she was alone, stripping herself of adornments before she sacrificed herself for the greater good. Maybe Gwen was going to be true to her word. He didn’t let the idea sweep him away. He maintained his healthy dose of skepticism for now.

“Stephen, I want this to go as smoothly as possible. I’m not going to cheat you. OK?”

“Sure, Gwen. Whatever you say. What are you going to do now?”

“Just wander around the park. I drove past it earlier, and it seems pretty busy.”

“You said it wouldn’t be.”

“It won’t be when it closes. Don’t leave your car in the park’s lot. It gets locked by the rangers.”

He smiled. “Nice try, Gwen. Who says I have a car?”

“No one, Stephen. Don’t make this so difficult for yourself. You’ve won. You’ve got what you wanted out of this.”

“Thanks for the advice, Gwen. I’ll be seeing you later,” he said and hung up.

He waited for her to make contact with her cohorts, but she didn’t. She didn’t signal or call anyone. She simply put the phone away.

“Gwen, are you really
going to do this?” he murmured.

Gwen headed back to the park. Tarbell tracked her progress from the safety of the tree line. No cars followed her. No people overtly or surreptitiously made contact with her. He let her enter the park and waited for someone to make a move on her before he followed her in.

He’d done his homework before coming here. Fort Richardson was an interesting place. It wasn’t just a park but a relic of a bygone era. It had been a gunnery outpost as part of the coastal defense system to protect the US from an invading threat from the Pacific. Outposts like this littered the West Coast. It called itself an island, but in reality it was a spit of land, fifty acres in size, that sat two hundred yards out into the ocean. An artificial causeway sturdy enough to take foot traffic and wide enough for a ranger’s pickup to access the island connected it to the mainland.

He guessed Gwen had chosen the park because of the causeway. At high tide, it became submerged. He saw the park for what it was—a trap. Once high tide cut it off, no one got on or off. But it was a trap that worked both ways. It trapped her as well as him. He smiled and followed a group of tourists across the causeway and onto the island.

Gwen had been right about the park being busy. He had no option but to encounter tourists. He played it cool and didn’t avoid anyone’s gaze. If someone greeted him, he greeted them back. Someone might remember him, but they’d have a hard job. He was a tourist, too. He was dressed like them. He looked like them. He was here to enjoy the park just like them. He did nothing to make anyone think otherwise. He’d slip from their minds before they reached their cars.

The island’s topography afforded him a number of good hiding spots. It was a flattened-out dome covered in trees. The only clear-cut area belonged to the decommissioned gun battery, its accessory buildings, and a picnic area. Where the island sloped into the water, the battery rose up to create a
concrete monolith to support the four large guns.

Gwen wandered from gun to gun in the bunker-like concrete structure, exchanging smiles with her fellow tourists and nothing else. She sat on a bench facing the water and stared out at it for half an hour. No one stopped to sit next to her. For the millionth time, Tarbell wondered if Ingram was playing some part in Gwen’s plan. If his people were here, they were certainly playing it cool. None of the couples, families, or occasional loners seemed out of place. No one walked the perimeter or feigned interest in the park while keeping close to Gwen at all times. Either these people were the best of the best, surveillance operative–wise, or they were who they appeared to be—tourists.

Just watching Gwen irritated him. She was salt on a wound, itching and burning in a way that had to be dealt with. He couldn’t believe he’d let her blight his existence. Well, it would all end soon. Not in days but hours.

He emerged from his hiding spot and went over to an events center perched on a ridge above the cannons. Gwen meandered from spot to spot, counting the time down.

He smiled and shook his head. He had to hand it to her. She was playing this straight. She really was going to sacrifice herself for her family. He would have admired her if she hadn’t done what she’d done to him first.

Rangers passed through the crowd announcing over megaphones that the park was closing. People filed toward the exit. The rangers ushered those out that didn’t. He retreated into the tree line for cover.

From his secluded spot, he watched for Gwen. She followed the main glut of tourists leaving but peeled off at the restrooms. She looked to be entering them but ducked down the side of the building. He waited for her to reemerge and she didn’t. It looked as if they were on.

“It’s time to reap what you sow,” he murmured.

“You got that right, brother,” an unfamiliar voice said.

Before Tarbell could react, a powerful
arm snaked around his neck, drawing him up onto his toes.

It looked as if Gwen had found herself another ally. Tarbell smiled. He was right not to trust her.

A hunting knife filled his vision. It was a nice knife. He wondered how it compared to the one hidden in the depths of his jacket pocket. If Gwen’s hired hand was going to show off his knife, it was only fair that Tarbell do the same, and in a swift movement he thrust his knife backward.

G
wen crouched down with her back against the
restrooms to hide. The surrounding trees did a good job of putting her in shadow. The rain added another layer of protection. Nobody looked up as they scurried along trying not to get soaked, not even the rangers.

From her position, she watched people head out of the park and across the causeway. The tide was coming in. Water was already slopping across the causeway’s low point, and it wouldn’t be long before it was submerged. The flow of people dwindled to a trickle, but she remained still. The rangers stood at either end of the causeway making sure everyone was leaving. She knew they’d return for a final sweep of the park to ensure no one got stranded on the island. She hoped Parker and Tarbell had found themselves suitable hiding spots.

When the last people returned to the parking lot, two rangers lowered the barrier and stood guard, preventing anyone from entering the park. The rangers on the island side called for any remaining visitors to leave while performing their final sweep. Gwen held her breath as one ranger checked inside the restroom before locking it. The rain ensured their final inspection remained a cursory one.

Gwen watched the rangers hustle across
the causeway and lock the barrier. She waited until they drove off before rising to her feet. She pulled out her cell and switched it off. If anything had gone wrong, it was too late to put it right. Fate would decide her future. There was no time to think, only act. If she kept to her plan, she’d survive this. The second her thoughts drifted, she was dead.

The rain was coming down hard now, and she pulled the hood of her rain jacket over her head. It obscured her peripheral vision, and the noise of raindrops striking the material drowned out the sound of footfalls. These were a couple of vulnerabilities for Tarbell to exploit, but it would hardly be more helpful to have the drenching rain driving straight into her eyes.

She knew this park well. This had been her and her sister’s playground as kids. Imagination filled the gaps left by the decaying structures. To them, it was a fully functional gun battery capable of blasting pirate ships and sea monsters out of the water.

She kept in the open, following the gravel roadway behind the guns. It would draw Tarbell out for Parker to pounce. It was a simple approach, but simple was good. “C’mon,” she murmured. “I’m here. Show yourself.” She tightened her grip around Lynette’s revolver.

She peered inside the empty rooms that were once the gunpowder room, shell room, and plotting room. When Tarbell made no move, she climbed the stairs to the observation level and crossed the top of the gun battery. The only way to reach the park below was a ladder set into the masonry structure.

She didn’t see Tarbell until he grabbed her. She had no idea where he’d come from, but it didn’t matter, he had her. He slipped an arm across her chest, keeping her pinned in place while the other cut into her throat. She gagged reflexively and yanked at his arm, but it was locked solid. Her racing heart and frightened brain demanded oxygen to fight back, but Tarbell’s vicelike grip prevented her from breathing.

She hoped to God Parker was closing
in. She wouldn’t last long under this punishment. Tarbell’s assault felt so much more violent now than when he’d assaulted her in Pace’s parking lot. If she had ever doubted his intent to kill her, she didn’t now. He meant it. He heaved back on his heels, hoisting her off her feet. Her weight put more pressure on her throat. A strangled yelp made it out as she choked against Tarbell’s forearm. Her eyes watered, blurring her vision. She yanked even harder on Tarbell’s arm with both hands. It had no effect.

“If you’re hoping for your playmate to rush in to save you, it isn’t happening. I took care of him, just like I took care of Tom Petersen.”

The revelations smashed into her. Parker and Petersen were dead. Tarbell had overcome a hardened felon and outwitted a seasoned cop. How was she supposed to stop him?

She broke into a series of ragged coughs, but the pressure on her throat prevented them from getting out. Pressure was building up from within her body as well as from outside. She kicked out with her legs but failed to strike a crippling blow.

“You’re dying, Gwen. How does it feel?”

She reached into her pocket and grabbed the revolver, but it snagged on her pocket. Panic overwhelmed her. Her vision had reduced to a smudge, and she yanked and yanked at the weapon to rip it free of its prison. It came away with a tear of material.

She didn’t think about the placement of her shot or any of the things she’d been taught during firearms training. She swung her arm up past her head and aimed, hoping for a head shot or anything to get him to let go.

She got her wish without firing a round. Tarbell released his grip. A sick sensation filled her when her feet failed to contact with the structure and she plunged over the edge. Gravity snatched her and hurled her the fifteen feet to the ground. She clipped the wall on the way down. It tipped her before she slammed into the wet dirt. The shuddering impact drove the remaining air from her lungs and her head bounced off the
earth, leaving her unable to breathe or think.

Tarbell clambered down the ladder. “I knew I couldn’t trust you, Gwen. You can’t trust anyone in this world.”

She hardly heard Tarbell’s taunts. Thoughts of survival swirled inside her head. She curled her hand tight around the revolver that wasn’t there. It lay twenty feet ahead of her. She pushed herself to her knees, but her body vibrated like a bell struck too hard and she collapsed. She crawled toward the weapon. She grabbed the gun, slipping her finger through the trigger guard, just as Tarbell stood on her hand. She yelled out and Tarbell pressed down even harder.

“Screaming won’t help.”

She gritted her teeth as her index finger broke under the pressure.

Tarbell removed his foot and kicked her hard in the ribs. She rolled away from the weapon and he picked it up.

“I can’t believe you brought a gun, but don’t worry, I won’t shoot you. I’m going to use my hands.” He pocketed the weapon. “No quick exit for you.”

“This isn’t over,” she said.

Tarbell grabbed Gwen by her jacket and dragged her across the ground toward the water. She tried to shake herself free, but her moves were uncoordinated. Tarbell simply slapped her feeble attempts aside. Just the act of being dragged made her dizzy and nauseous. It was as if her brain was slopping around inside her skull.

Rain splashed into Gwen’s eyes, but it couldn’t obscure the sight of Parker lumbering across the park, clutching his stomach. She almost cheered.

Parker disappeared from sight as Tarbell dragged her around the battery down to the shore. Small waves broke over the rocks. Never had such a comforting noise sounded so terrifying.

She wouldn’t die like this. Not helpless. She
didn’t care if she died today, but she wouldn’t die lying on her back like a stranded turtle. Tarbell might win, but he’d have to hide his battle scars when she was finished with him.

“I hear waterboarding is all the rage. You’ll have to tell me what it’s like.”

“Try it for yourself,” Gwen said defiantly.

Tarbell plunged her head into the water. Ice-cold, it acted as a slap to the face and snapped her senses back into place. The salt water invaded her nose and mouth. She choked on it and had no option but to breathe it in place of air. Tarbell’s grinning face looked down at her, distorted through the water. She struck out at his shifting image and caught him across the jaw. It did nothing to dislodge his grin.

Just as it became too much for her, Tarbell jerked her from the water. She came up coughing and choking, water clogging her nose and throat.

“No holding your breath, Gwen. That’s not how the game is played.”

He plunged her back in. She snatched a lungful of air before she disappeared below the surface again. She grabbed his forearms. Panic turned her fingers into talons and they bit deep into his flesh.

Tarbell shook his head in disgust and punched her in the stomach. Instinctively, she opened her mouth and sucked in more water before he yanked her free.

“What did I say about holding your breath?”

He forced her back down, deep below the surface. Her head connected with one of the jagged rocks and rosy tendrils of blood snaked through the water.

There hadn’t been a chance to grab a breath this time. She thrashed in an attempt to get above the surface. The world overhead turned white with froth. Tarbell pressed hard on her chest with his knee.

She didn’t know how much water it
took to drown a person, but she felt she couldn’t take much more. As if reading her thoughts, Tarbell jerked her free once again. Her chest burned from sucking in air.

“Consider this a baptism, Gwen. It’s the only way you’re going to get into heaven.”

“Heaven will have to wait,” Parker said from behind Tarbell’s shoulder. He put his weight behind a blow he drove into the side of Tarbell’s head.

It was like watching a building being demolished. Parker’s precision blow took Tarbell’s foundation out. He collapsed from the impact, falling sideways into the water, but he maintained his grip on Gwen, dragging her with him. Parker snatched Tarbell’s hand from her jacket and wrenched it free. She shoved herself clear of the water and sucked in the sweetest air she’d ever breathed. Her exhale turned into coughing, but she didn’t care. She was breathing. She pushed herself onto her feet, but overexertion and the weight of her waterlogged clothes took her legs out from under her and she fell facedown. She clambered to her feet again, this time more carefully. The rain was coming down harder than ever and the sky was a smudged bruise, but the world had never looked so beautiful.

Parker wore a gray hooded sweatshirt. Rainwater had turned it dark, but blood from a stomach wound had turned it darker.

“If anyone is going to meet their maker, it’s you, asshole,” Parker snarled as he pushed Tarbell below the water and held him down, putting his full weight on his chest. Tarbell wrestled to break free, but Parker was too big for him. The water wasn’t even knee deep but it was deep enough to drown Tarbell. He was finished.

This was the moment Gwen had thought would never come. It was a chance to revel in Tarbell’s pain for a change after what he’d done to her and Paul. But seeing Parker, driven by animal rage, slowly drowning Tarbell disgusted her. The fight was such a mismatch. Parker was a brute compared
to her gangly coworker. Tarbell’s true, weak nature was reflected in the pathetic sight of his skinny arms and legs flailing in the water.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Parker to stop. This wasn’t his fight. It was hers. Paying him to kill Tarbell felt like a huge weight on her gut. She closed her eyes, but the sounds of thrashing water and choking cries filled her ears. She steeled herself to stand by as he died. She’d been thrashing underwater moments ago, but Tarbell had taken no pity on her. In fact, he’d probably enjoyed it. She had to let the plan move ahead, but Parker was right. This day would leave a scar on her soul that would never heal. But as much as it would hurt, it was a worthy scar.

She opened her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. A glint of steel flashed in the water. Tarbell thrust his hand out with a knife tight in his fist.

Gwen cried out, but it was too late. The knife disappeared into Parker just below his ribcage. A crimson bloom spread around the knife handle. It was far more severe than the existing wound. Parker went stiff as if frozen in the moment. He held on to Tarbell, keeping him pinned below the water, but then his legs buckled, and he dropped onto his knees into the rapidly reddening water.

Gwen went for the revolver before she remembered Tarbell still had it. He had it all now—the gun, the knife, and her last hope.

Tarbell emerged from the water, clothes soaked to the skin, and shoved Parker aside. His strength gone, Parker slumped into the water, facedown.

Tarbell spun around to face Gwen. His hate bordered on a physical presence.

Gwen raced back to the shore.

“You can run, Gwen, but you can’t hide. Not from me. Not ever.”

His words followed her across the shore and into the park.