Two hours after I left Ari at Heath’s house, I was beginning to lose hope when no one had spotted him yet. I’d called in every favor I was owed, and checked in with all my old informants. It was full dark, and wandering the streets wasn’t safe for anyone right now.

And with the darkness, the chances of randomly spotting him went down dramatically.

My phone rang with a call from an old CI who worked security at the cemetery on Frenchman Street.

“Otis? You got something for me?”

“What was this dude wearing? Gray shirt and navy sweatpants? ’Cause I just ran off some guys with my truck who were kicking the shit out of an old man in the cemetery.”

“Fuck. Yeah, that could be him. He okay?” I yanked my steering wheel in the other direction, heading for Otis.

“No, man. He looks like he got the shit kicked out of him. You want me to call 911? I’m on the northeast corner. Remember the place those punks tagged my tombs? Close to that.”

“Yes. Fuck. Call 911. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

For a moment, I debated whether to call Ari, but I wanted to be sure first. If it wasn’t her dad, I didn’t want her hopes up. I’d know if it was the right decision soon enough.

I turned two more corners, and finally my headlights cut across the gray tombs of the cemetery. A flashlight beam waved in the air.

Otis.

I bolted out of the Jeep and ran toward him, not bothering to turn off the car or shut the door behind me. When I skidded to a stop next to the dark human-shaped lump on the ground, Otis was still on the phone with 911, giving them the situation.

I snatched the flashlight out of Otis’s hand and flashed it over the man’s face. It was smeared with blood, but there was no doubt it was Ari’s dad.

Thank fuck.

I dropped to my knees at his side. “Mr. Sampson. This is Rhett Hennessy. I’m here to get you help. Okay, sir?”

He tried to roll to his side, but groaned instead.

“Mr. Sampson. Stay with me. We’re getting help. Can you hear me?”

His glasses were smashed and both eyes were swelling shut. Otis hadn’t exaggerated in the slightest. If anything, he’d understated the situation.

Jesus Christ.

I checked for immediate life-threatening injuries, my first-responder training coming back quickly. One of his legs was bent funny. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Heath?” His voice shook, but the fact that he was talking was a good sign in my book.

“No, sir. Rhett. We had lunch together yesterday.”

“You broke my window with a baseball.”

“Yes, sir. That was me. I’m really sorry about that. Can you tell where else you’re hurt?”

“My ribs hurt. They kicked me. Fucking assholes.” He pushed on the ground like he was trying to get up, but his leg buckled.

“Hold still a second, sir. We need to get you looked at before you try to move.”

“Something ain’t right. Think I’m gonna be sick.”

I reached out and laid a hand over his, not wanting to squeeze in case his fingers were jacked up. “Ambulance is on the way. We’ll get you to a hospital so they can check you out.”

I expected him to protest, but he just grunted. Shit, they must have worked him over real good for him not to argue about that. The man I knew was stubborn to a fault, just like his son and daughter.

Otis held the phone away from his ear. “They’re coming. They want me to stay on the line.”

“Good. Do that.”

“They made me go with them,” Mr. Sampson mumbled. My instincts told me to ask him what he meant, but his fingers curled around mine as he groaned in pain. “Wanna talk to Ariel.”

“Yes, sir. I can make that happen.”

I yanked my phone from my pocket and called Ari. “I got him. Ambulance is on the way. He wants to talk to you.”

She broke down in sobs that shredded my heart. “Oh my God. What happened? Is he okay? No, of course he’s not okay if you called an ambulance. Can I talk to him?”

“Hold on.” I extended the phone toward Mr. Sampson, flipping it to speaker. “Mr. Sampson, I have your daughter on the phone.”

“Ari? Heath’s getting pizza for dinner. You want some?”

She choked on her tears. “Yeah, Daddy. I’d love that.”

“Good girl. Missed you.”

“I love you, Dad. Missed you too.”

I took the phone off speaker as Ari’s voice cracked on the last words. “Hold it together. Where’s Carver? Get him to drive you to the ER.”

“How bad is it? Tell me the truth.”

I glanced at the broken old man on the ground beside me. “It’s pretty bad, but he’s gonna be fine.” I prayed I was telling her the truth.

She hauled in a breath. “I’m getting Carver. We’ll meet you there. Which hospital?”

I calculated the nearest one from where I was and gave her the name.

“I’m on my way. And, Rhett? Thank you.”

I hung up the phone as sirens and flashing lights pierced the night. “Mr. Sampson, help is here. We’re gonna get you all fixed up.”