DOMINICK TWISTED THE key and pushed at the door.

It didn’t budge.

“Girls?” He pounded the surface with his fist. “Come on now, don’t do this to me.”

Something scraped on the other side. The deadbolt slid free, and the door cracked open.

“There we go.” He smiled at the barely legal Volta girl. “Going to let me in? I brought takeout.”

She shuffled backward, allowing him into the room.

“I got everything you asked for. Hope you’re hungry.” He set the plastic bags on the table then stepped back.

The two girls edged toward the table. They were starving and judging by their thin frames they were probably on some sort of diet lifestyle.

“Did you have time to think about my offer?” He sat on the edge of the bed.

“How do we know Dina killed Rosie? How can we trust you?”

“Look at what Dina’s done to all of us. She’s always been a jealous, evil girl. From the very beginning. She wanted to be Rosie, and when she couldn’t, she killed her. Just like I said. Made the feds believe our parents did it. Only a psychopath could do that.” He shook his head.

“What is it you want us to do?” the older sister asked. He couldn’t remember their names and didn’t want to ask.

“I think I know where Dina is, and I wanted to offer the two of you the chance to be there. For Rosie.”

“What are you going to do to Dina?” the younger sister asked.

“When you must cut, persuade the victim you are a surgeon.” Dominick spread his hands. “We’re going to make Dina come to us, and she’s going to beg to make things right.”

And then Dominick would dig four graves. One for Little Tony. Two for the girls. And one for his bitch sister.

His phone began to ring, breaking the moment.

Great. What new emergency awaited him?

Phillip.

Dominick was beginning to dread these calls.

“What?” He pressed the phone to his ear.

“We’ve got a problem.” Phillip’s easy going calm was gone. Those four words were tense.

“What happened?” Dominick stood and crossed to the bathroom. He didn’t need the girls overhearing this.

“There’s another body to deal with,” Phillip said slowly.

“Is LT there?”

“Yeah.”

“In the car with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“No.”

“Are you the only one that can hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“This is a problem.” Dominick closed his eyes. Little Tony had been by their side since the beginning, but he’d always been unhinged. Dominick knew it the day he saw the dead puppy. Most of the time he could excuse it. Throw some money at a girl Little Tony was too rough with. Whatever. But this was now a problem.

“What do you want us to do?” Phillip asked. He was a good guy, but he still had a mushy center. He wasn’t as hard as Dominick or Little Tony.

“That guy you killed, did you do anything with the body?”

“No.”

“Okay. Go back there. Clean up the body. And take care of the other thing. Can you handle that?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m coming tomorrow to wrap this up, then me and you, we’re going to take some time off. You got me?”

Dominick knew he was asking Phillip to do a lot. Killing your best friend wasn’t easy, but their line of work meant doing things outside of the lines. And Little Tony had to be put down.

DINA STARED AT HER plate, her mind roaring with speculation while Mr. Walters’ voice droned in the background.

Trevor had parked his SUV because he acknowledged there was a risk in driving it. That same day the truck was broken into.

It wasn’t a coincidence.

Phillip and Little Tony had been here. Maybe even following Trevor. He could have gotten hurt—because of her. He didn’t know when or how to stop. All these ex-girlfriends and their stories made sense the more Mr. Walters droned on. All Trevor wanted was to save the woman he loved most. His mom. Since he couldn’t, he wanted to save every woman who crossed his path.

Dina got that. She understood. The choices she’d made about her brother weren’t smart. She’d facilitated him following in their parent’s footsteps.

She lifted her head and peered out of the corner of her eye at Mrs. Walters picking at her plate. She hadn’t really eaten. No more than her husband had, but at least he’d been talking them all to death.

If Trevor continued down this path, he could die. Who would be there for Mrs. Walters then?

“Excuse me,” Dina mumbled.

She pushed to her feet and stepped into the kitchen. The weight of it all made it hard to breathe. Her scars ached in remembered pain. Her stomach knotted up.

This family couldn’t pay the price for her freedom.

What had she been thinking trying to get Phillip and Little Tony caught?

The car keys sat on the bar where Trevor had placed them. The light glinted off the metal surface.

Rudy’s place was forty-five minutes away. She could drive there, get him to hide her somewhere, dump the car and be out of this life before midnight. It didn’t solve her revolving problem with her brother and his friends, but at least no one else would get hurt because of her.

She picked up the car keys then tilted her head, listening.

Mr. Walters complained.

Mrs. Walters said nothing.

Trevor was in the back of the house.

This was her chance to do what she should have.

People like her didn’t get to face down the bad guys and live. She knew fairy tales weren’t real. Reality was ugly, bloody and mean.

Dina tip-toed into the living room. Exiting through the front door meant going past the dining room. Trevor was at the back of the house. Which left the garage.

She tried the heavy door in the kitchen and was rewarded by a wall of hot air, the smell of rubber mixed with grease and darkness.

The garage.

Dina backed out of the kitchen, straining to hear anything. She closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. This was the right thing to do.

The side door of the garage was unlocked, allowing her to slip outside without raising any alarm. She jogged toward the car, the weight in her stomach making each step a struggle.

She cared for Trevor. That was why she was leaving. There was enough blood on her hands already. She wouldn’t have his.

Dina climbed into the car and started the engine.

“Goodbye, Trevor,” she whispered.

Emotion tightened her throat and her eyes prickled.

Tears made it hard to drive. She couldn’t cry. That wasn’t allowed.

She accelerated down the street, her focus on putting as much distance between her and Trevor as possible. She couldn’t allow him to put this much on the line for her. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t his place. She would always be a magnet for danger.

Her heart felt as though it were pressed to her spine, barely beating in an effort to remain as close to Trevor as it could. She gripped the wheel with both hands and focused on the road out of town, passing the city limits sign, and the dark horizon.

It was appropriate that she was riding into the night. The darkness had always been her friend.

How stupid was she to think she could have it all? That Phillip, Little Tony and Dominick could be stopped without someone dying. She didn’t get to be safe or happy. That wasn’t in the cards for her.

At least she’d gotten to know Trevor. She understood him better than she’d ever expected. And they’d never lost that intimacy, either. She still got warm and fuzzy inside whenever they talked. Sure, the sex was great, but it was more than that. It was him. And she’d never have that again.

TREVOR HUNG UP THE phone with Casey for a second time and leaned against the wall. Grief and anger coiled inside of him.

This wasn’t fucking fair.

What was Parson doing in the parking lot? Why was he anywhere near Trevor’s vehicle?

The whole point of taking the SUV to the hospital parking lot and leaving it away from the other cars was to make it less of a target. To keep anyone from getting hurt. And now someone had died.

Trevor tipped his head back and stared at the glittery popcorn ceiling overhead.

Parson might be an old, cranky bastard but he’d been honest and kind. He was a great partner. Trevor didn’t deserve him.

“Trevor?” his dad called out.

He grimaced and resigned himself to fielding a few more blows from his dad. The old man was probably overjoyed something horrible had happened. Yet another opportunity to highlight how much better a detective he’d been and how life had been greater in his day.

Trevor stumbled down the hall.

Parson was gone. Dead.

Who was going to call his kids? His wife had passed away, but their children were alive. The grandbabies were Parson’s favorite thing in the world. Trevor had seen that gruff, old man exterior change.

Parson would never again hold one of his grandbabies.

Trevor had fucked up.

“Dad, I don’t want to hear it right now.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving all those feelings down deep.

They had the chance to catch Phillip and Little Tony now. Trevor had to focus on that.

“I think your girlfriend left,” Dad said.

“Dina? What?” Trevor stared at her empty seat and half-eaten plate.

“She excused herself and went to the kitchen. Stole my ring.” Dad lifted the wooden plaque he’d had made to house the Walter’s family Founder’s Ring.

“I did that,” Mom said.

“What?” Dad frowned at her.

“She was looking at it. I thought it might be pretty on her. It fit, too.” Mom sat up straight, her wide eyes on the candle center piece.

Dina slipping out while his back was turned again.

He’d seen her do this before.

“Shit,” Trevor muttered.

“Language,” Dad snapped.

Trevor bolted for the front door. He knew before he ripped it open what he’d find.

The car gone.

Curb empty.

“What’s wrong?” Mom laid a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s gone.” And he knew she meant it. Slipping out like that was a calculated play. If he didn’t find her soon, she’d be gone forever. She was that good.

“Gone where? Is she okay?”

“Mom?” He turned toward her and took her hand. Even under duress, he couldn’t be anything but patient with her. “I can’t talk right now. Dina might be in trouble.”

“Does this have to do with Parson?”

“Yes.”

“Go.” Mom shooed him, but there wasn’t anywhere to go.

Dina was in Sterling’s car. Something about that tickled the back of his mind. That was important.

He scrolled to Liam Jones’ number and hit dial.

“What?” Liam answered.

“Parson is dead and Dina just drove off in Sterling’s car.”

“Shit. Where are you?”

“My parent’s house. Is there a way to track the car? Find out where she is?”

“Yeah. We’re getting in the truck and headed to you. Here’s Sterling.”

Trevor paced up and down the sidewalk.

His sidearm was locked in the car.

His SWAT gear was in the trunk.

He had everything in there, and Dina had just walked out with the keys.

“Trevor?” Sterling Kuhn was a newcomer to Ransom and a friend of Jenna’s. When Sterling needed to get out on her own, she’d sublet Jenna’s old place and went to work at the Jones family store.

“Yeah. Hey.”

“I have a tracking device on my new car so that, well—”

“I know.” Trevor had seen firsthand what PTSD could do to her and the safety measures in place.

“I’m pulling it up on my phone now. It’s got a little delay, but it should tell us where the car was. Liam says he’ll be there in seven minutes.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Here’s Liam again.”

“Trevor?” Liam’s voice sounded different. Echoy. He must have turned on the truck’s Bluetooth.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Except Trevor had a good idea. A man had died and Dina thought it was her fault.

“Okay, I’m just putting this out there, what if don’t go after her? What if you leave her alone?”

“Don’t you fucking start with me, Liam. You don’t understand. If you don’t want to do this, don’t come.”

“I’m coming. We’ll have to drop Sterling off, but I’m coming. Give Alex a call. Looks like the signal is headed into Fort Worth PD territory.”

DINA PARKED HER STOLEN ride around the former from Rudy’s house. She’d driven by and seen a light on inside and his car was out front. For once luck was on her side.

There was no way to make everything right. She couldn’t return the car. She couldn’t apologize to Trevor. It was all so fucked up. She twisted the ring on her finger. Maybe she could have Rudy help her leave the car near a police station, then report it herself before she got out of town.

Yeah, that was a good idea.

She retrieved her bag from the backseat then shut the door. She stood on the sidewalk, staring at her reflection in the window. What she wouldn’t give to be free to jump back in that car and go back to Ransom.

This was why she’d had the rule in place about not getting involved with anyone. It made her connected to a place. Those emotional ties slowed her down and got other people killed.

She hit the lock on the key fob.

This had to be quick.

If Trevor wasn’t involved with the murder scene he’d be looking for her. He was a good detective. It wouldn’t take him long.

She hefted the bag up on her shoulder and braced herself for Rudy’s inevitable reaction.

He wasn’t going to like her showing up without warning.

Well, tough shit.

She’d tried to get him to take her fears seriously a week ago, and he’d ignored her. Now one man was dead and Dina had to live with the consequences of her actions.

Rudy’s lawn was more weed than grass. By the looks of it, no one had mowed it in weeks.

Halfway up the walk she spied the overflowing mail bin. He must have just gotten home.

She stepped under the porch overhang and pressed the doorbell.

When she next lay down to sleep, who would she be? Where would she be headed to?

The next life was a way station. A stop on the way to her real destination.

As a rule, whenever she changed identities, she had an intermediary name. One she’d use and discard once she found someone to set her up for real. She couldn’t continue to use Rudy or anyone who knew him.

Where the hell was he?

She knocked on the door.

“Rudy?” She put her face right in the crack. “Rudy, it’s me. Open up.”

She got a whiff of rotten eggs mixed with—

“Oh, God.”

Dina pushed back off the door, staring at the window.

That smell.

Her stomach clenched and the back of her throat tightened. She whirled, grasping the wooden support and bent over, emptying her dinner behind the bushes. She sank to her knees.

How had no one known?

She dragged the back of her hand across her mouth and peered up and down the street.

No one was out.

There were no nosey neighbors.

People kept to themselves here.

Was Rudy in there?

The presence of the car made her think he was, but what if there was another person dead in his house? What then?

She used the column to pull herself straight.

If the body smelled this bad, it wasn’t fresh. Whoever had committed the murder wasn’t here. They were gone.

What did Dina need?

New social security, driver’s license, some history.

Rudy was currently her only source.

If he had the raw materials here, could she make them herself? Nothing fancy, just to get by.

She didn’t have an option. She had to know if that was Rudy inside, and if it was, she had to help herself.

Dina strode around to the side of the house and let herself into the back yard. When she’d first come to Texas she’d stayed with Rudy for a week while he got her set up. Her memory of that time was better left forgotten.

The side gate stood ajar.

She peered into the back yard, but it was also empty.

This was her life. Why did she ever think she could be someone normal?

Dina edged toward the back patio door.

The security bar was up. There was no sign of movement or anything.

She reached for the handle and sucked down a deep breath.

This was going to be one of the most disgusting things she’d ever experienced

Dina opened the back door. The smell hit her like a wall. Her eyes watered and the sound of buzzing roared in her ears. She gasped, inhaling the putrid fragrance of death. It filled her lungs, clogging her nose. She turned and stumbled a few feet away, sucking in clean air through her mouth.

She couldn’t do this.

Her best bet was to rent a car and drive. She could go to a new city and make some contacts, pick a destination. But she couldn’t go in there.

The sound of tires squealing made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

Were the neighbors home? Did Rudy have friends coming over? Or—

“Get the cans.”

Dina froze. She knew that voice. He might be older now, but she knew who that was.

Phillip.

She whirled, looking for an escape, but she didn’t know where to go. If they saw her, they’d kill her. She had to stay out of sight.

Dina fled into the house, pulling the glass door shut behind her. Flies whizzed past her. A few landed on her arms. She shuddered and shook them off.

Where to hide?

Not in the kitchen.

The buzzing was coming from the living room.

She darted through the archway down the hall.

A coat closet.

She pulled the door open and stared at a wall of stuff.

Shit.

The sliding door squeaked.

She had to make this work.

Dina stepped past the old vacuum cleaner and found a place for her foot. She grasped the shelf over the rod and hauled herself into the hiding spot. Contorting herself to close the door was another matter, but she got it done.

The smell wasn’t as bad. The droning of flies was lessened. But she was a sitting duck in here if they found her.

She closed her eyes and listened to the muted voices of the two boys she’d grown up with in the next room.

Were they the ones who’d killed Rudy? Had they found him? Was that the way they’d tracked her to Ransom?

Dina covered her mouth and nose with her hand, eyes closed.

This wasn’t any way to live.

PHILLIP FELT AS THOUGH he were in a daze.

The sun cast long shadows across the street. The quiet neighborhood bode well for this little endeavor.

The burger Phillip had eaten sat like led in his stomach.

When Little Tony killed the cop, it was like a switch had been flipped. He’d killed their contact with no hesitation, then the guy in the parking lot. Both times it was unnecessary and without warning.

He would be a fool to say he was blindsided by the change.

The signals had always been there, he’d simply chosen to ignore them.

If anyone was going to put Little Tony down, it should be Phillip. It was only right.

He killed the car engine and got out into the hot, sticky evening.

“Get the cans,” he said to Little Tony.

Phillip needed to get inside and decide how he was going to do this.

If Little Tony saw it coming, Phillip wouldn’t stand a chance. He had to catch little Tony unaware.

Phillip entered the back yard through the open gate. They were lucky no one had ventured back here.

At the glass sliding doors he paused and peered inside. Already he could smell the odor of decomposition. With this heat the decomp would work faster. The air conditioning would only help so much.

Phillip pulled his shirt up over his nose then opened the back door. Sure enough, the odor sucker punched him.

“Oh, that smells awful.” He shook his head and stepped inside.

“Where are we putting these?” Little Tony stopped behind Phillip, two gas cans in either hand.

“One in the living room, one in the kitchen, then one on either corner of the house.” Phillip figured their best hope was in making the fire spread wide and collapsing the house before first responders could put it out. If he could only wound LT, the fire could then do the rest.

Little Tony set one can down in the kitchen then proceeded down the hall.

Phillip watched his friend duck into a bedroom on the other side of the house.

This was it.

He stepped into the living room and drew his gun. He’d never killed anyone before. Never had to. They worked with gamblers. Their profit died up if they murdered someone.

Little Tony’s heavy footsteps came closer.

Phillip took a step back and faced the body. The limbs were bloated and the skin a purple-black color.

“He might be too wet to burn,” LT said.

Phillip didn’t want to know how he knew that.

Little Tony grasped the can and twisted off the cap, then began pouring the gasoline on the carpet and the body.

Now.

Phillip lifted his gun.

Little Tony went still. He couldn’t see Phillip, there wasn’t a way, and yet they both knew what was playing out here.

“Is this you or D?” Little Tony asked. He lifted his head and let the can hang from his fingers.

“We both agree you’re a liability. You’re sick, LT.” Phillip’s hand shook.

“I’ve only ever done what’s best for us,” Little Tony said.

There was no one on this planet who was more protective, more loyal than LT. Phillip knew that. But he also knew LT had changed.

“I know, man. I—”

Little Tony whirled, flinging the can.

Phillip fired, then again, the shot going wild.

Little Tony lurched backward, but caught himself on the arm chair. Blood darkened his shirt. His face twisted, the rage coming on.

If LT got his hands on Phillip, he was dead.

He pulled the trigger again.

Little Tony threw himself toward the kitchen.

It was only then that Phillip saw the flames licking up the side of the room, devouring the drapes.

“Shit,” Phillip muttered.

He was not getting stuck in a cook box. His first instinct was to look for Little Tony. A bloody handprint on the wall and a smear on the back door were the only remnants of his friend and partner.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Phillip darted into the kitchen, gun up.

Would Little Tony prioritize escape or revenge?

A car engine started up, answering that question.

It was time Phillip worried about himself.