It’d been nearly six weeks since anything new about Slade had come to light, and Krista was losing her mind. Wendy’s roommate was representing them, but according to Stella, attorney at law, there was a process to these kinds of things, and all the paperwork needed to be filed. They were still trying to get in touch with the women at Myles’s former detachments too. Stella figured the more evidence and statements they gathered, the harsher the sentence.

But Krista was getting antsy. Brock had asked her to lay low and she’d complied, but it was getting more difficult to not take matters into her own hands as the days ticked by. Valentine’s Day had come and gone, and the first day of spring was just days around the corner. Slade was still slinking around the station, popping up like a creepy weed that stinks, stings and chokes the life out of all the other plants around it. He made “kill” eyes at Krista whenever he could, but otherwise he’d been staying away. Allie had officially gone on light duty as well, so she and Krista spent every free minute they had digging into Myles Slade any way they could. From stalking his social media to carefully mentioning his predatory ways around the water cooler, they were on the hunt.

Hunting a predator.

Thankfully, things between Krista and Brock were going well. She was so over having chaos in every realm of her life that the fact that her “love life” finally seemed to be on the upswing was a serious plus. After their date night and evening with the ottoman, things seemed to fall into a comfortable and pleasant routine between the two of them. He was attentive and slowly opening up, and she was as horny as ever, ready and willing to jump his bones the moment she walked in the door. It was the perfect relationship.

“Can you explain to me why Heath’s truck has dual tires on the back, while the rest of the Harty boy fleet only have single tires?” Krista asked one night as she and Brock were lying in bed. They were both a tad breathless, and Krista’s ass stung like a bitch, so now it was time for pillow talk. Their new deal was, if she let him be in charge, he had to give her fifteen minutes of pillow talk afterward where she could ask him questions and had to open up.

She didn’t normally like relinquishing the control, but it was definitely nice getting to know him. Plus, the man was really coming into his own with that flogger.

“Because my baby brother is immature, and his vehicle is proof of that,” Brock said with a yawn.

Krista wrinkled her nose. “Meaning … ”

“Meaning, he has the biggest dick and therefore needs the biggest truck because he is the biggest dick.”

“H—” She scrunched up her nose again and spun onto her side to face him. “How do you guys know he’s the biggest?”

Brock rolled his eyes. “You’re having my baby. Don’t be fantasizing about my little brother’s big dick. It’s not that much bigger.”

Krista scoffed. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, like, did you get them all out and measure?”

He made a face as if he’d just sucked on a lime. “No. We’ve obviously measured before. Wrote the measurements down and put them in a hat.”

Oh, okay. That made sense. It was still weird, particularly to Krista, who had just the one brother. If she’d had a sister, would they have compared breast sizes? She didn’t know. Men were weird.

“I’m driving around in a big penis truck?”

“Yep.” He yawned and rolled over to face her, pushing her over to her other side in the process. He scooted in behind her and cuddled up close. Spring was in the air, but it was still damp and cool outside. The cuddling was welcome.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“It’s not for much longer. Heath will be back soon. And then we’ll get you a new car.”

“I want a truck.”

His chuckle ruffled the hair at the nape of her neck.

“A big beefy black one.”

“We’ll see,” he said softly, pulling her tight.

“Or maybe a white one. Show less dirt. The yin to your yang.”

“You are that,” he replied sleepily. His hand cupped her breast gently before traveling down her abdomen to the swell of her belly. “Sleep now. More sex and questions tomorrow.” His lips found her neck, and it was if he knew exactly where the button was, because she sighed instantly, her eyes closed, she melted into him and was asleep in seconds.

It was just after lunch on a Friday, and Krista was itching to get home. Brock had brought out the flogger again the night before, and a delightful tingle on her backside was a pleasant reminder all day.

She sat down at her desk, a fresh cup of decaf Earl Grey tea in hand, when she noticed her phone flashing. She’d left it on her desk when she stepped out to go and grab a sandwich for lunch.

One missed message. One voicemail. It was from Marlise.

She punched in her code and listened.

“Krista, hey. You’ll never guess the shit Wendy and I uncovered. We know why Wicks lets Slade get away with murder. The shit Myles has on the staff sergeant is huge. Call me back ASA—” Then the message cut out.

Krista replayed it three more times, hoping to hear a background noise or another voice or something to give a clue as to why Marlise’s message cut out early, but she heard nothing. It made sense in some ways. Marlise wasn’t dumb enough to be leaving a message like that out for anyone to overhear. She was probably home or in her car or the empty locker room or something. Maybe someone came in and she didn’t want them to hear.

Wrinkling her nose in confusion and about to call Marlise back, a text message from Wendy pinged her phone just as Krista put it to her ear.

“Hey! We’ve got news on Slade and Wicks. Meet Marlise and me at your old place ASAP.”

Krista texted her back right away. “Awesome. I just got the message from Marlise. Why my old place?”

It was roughly five minutes before she got a reply. Five long minutes.

Wendy: “Privacy. Come now.”

What the hell? That wasn’t like Wendy at all. If anything, they’d all go back to the Ogden Point coffee shop to discuss things. It was out of their jurisdiction and in a public place. Something was up.

She texted back. “Are you okay?”

Wendy: “Come NOW!”

It had to be a setup. Fuck. Had Wicks gone to Myles and let him know what was going on? Did Myles or Wicks find out they’d all been investigating them? Had Stella filed anything to alert Myles they were on to him? Did Myles have her friends? Did Wicks? Or was this a setup to get her alone?

Either way, she had to go. If her friends were in trouble, she couldn’t just leave them.

She called Brock as she headed out to her car, but there was no answer. She sent a mass text to all the Harty Boys about the call and text, swung her belly behind the steering wheel and peeled out of the police station parking lot.

At her old place, Marlise’s sporty little Honda Civic sat around back where Krista used to park her car.  There were no other vehicles around. Her old landlords must be out. But where was Myles’s car? Was it a setup after all?

She quietly shut the door of Heath’s penis truck, drew her gun and made her way toward the house. Instead of going straight for the front door, she snuck around back to do a bit of recon. The blinds were all closed. Had she done that before she left last time? Had Mrs. Geller? She was going in blind.

Slowly, she crept around the house, careful not to let the gravel crunch under her shoes. She paused next to the living room window for the suite and held her breath, hoping to hear something—anything.

Should she text Marlise?

No.

If it was a setup that would give her away.

Making her way around the house to the Gellers’ front door, she tried the knob. They rarely locked it. It was open and she let herself inside, once again careful not to let her footsteps make any noise. She padded softly over to the vent on the floor in their dining room that she knew was situated directly over her living room. Kneeling down, she put her ear to the floor.

Nothing.

Fuck.

If it was just Wendy and Marlise they’d definitely be talking.

But maybe Wendy hadn’t arrived yet and Marlise was just sitting down there quietly playing on her phone.

“Hey there, darling!” came a whisper from the living room.

Krista jumped where she knelt and spun around only to see Collette, the Gellers’ African grey parrot, bobbing her head in her cage.

“Hey there, darling. Hey there, darling. Lookin’ good. Lookin’ good.”

Krista shook her head and let out a phew. Her heart beat a million miles a minute and her stomach was in knots. “Don’t do that, Collette. Not cool,” she whispered.

The bird squawked. “Not cool. Not cool.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Krista gritted out.

“Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up,” Collette mimicked.

Krista growled low in her throat, shot the bird a dirty look and then put her ear back next to the vent.

Collette skittered along her perch, knocked her bell and then skittered back. “I want Wonder Bread, Joyce. None of that multigrain shit,” she said. “Multigrain shit. Multigrain shit. Hey there, sexy.”

For fuck’s sake. Krista was about to get up and go throw the sheet over the stupid bird’s cage when the heavy stomp of a boot behind her on the wood floor caused her to pause. The cool steel barrel of a gun pressed hard against her temple.

“So lovely of you to join us.”

That voice. It would haunt her every day for the rest of her life.

Hands up, she turned around to face him.

His smile was disgusting. Full of triumph. He thought he’d won.

“You bitches just had to dig, didn’t you?” He snagged her elbow and took the gun from her hand before dragging her back outside and down to her old suite. Marlise and Wendy were both handcuffed and gagged, sitting wide-eyed on the couch. “Now I have all my girls.” With a jerk and a shove, he pushed her toward the couch, the gun still pointed directly at her. “Well, except for Mullins … but I’ll take care of that dyke later. No witnesses.”

“You okay?” Krista whispered to both Wendy and Marlise.

Mirror-image eyes of panic stared back at her, but they both nodded.

The toilet in the bathroom flushed.

Who else was here?

“Ah, good,” came a familiar voice as Staff Sergeant Wicks came into view, doing up his fly. “They’re all here.”

“Staff sergeant?” Krista whispered. “Why?”

Unlike Slade’s, the staff sergeant’s light-brown eyes showed he still had a conscience. He wasn’t entirely on board with whatever Myles had planned. His gaze landed on Krista, and his eyes softened. “I really hate that it came down to this, Matthews. You’re all good cops.”

Wendy squeaked next to her, her eyes growing fierce as she glared at the staff sergeant.

“What did Wendy and Marlise find out about you?” Krista asked. Maybe if she kept them both talking, she could come up with a plan to disarm Slade or, at the very least, give Rex or Brock time to get here and rescue them.

Wicks looked a bit embarrassed. A flush colored his cheekbones, and his jaw tightened. Myles was definitely the one calling the shots here.

Myles rolled his eyes, the gun in his hand wobbling slightly. “Junior detectives Lee and Dougherty discovered that I’ve been blackmailing the staff sergeant here.”

Rolling her eyes at the glee Myles was getting from it all, Krista turned her attention to the man who she still believed had a soul. “What does he have on you, sir? Surely it can’t be that bad? Whatever it is, we can help you. You help us, and we’ll help you. You don’t want to do this. You don’t have to do this.” She was determined not to let her voice crack. She needed to remain calm, collected and confident. If either man knew she was terrified, they’d use that against her. She had to save her friends. Her hand fell to her belly, and a new thread of fear wormed its way through her. She just had to save them.

“I found out that the staff sergeant here has been accepting bribes from a well-known crime family here in town. He looks the other way when it comes to some of their more”—his grin made Krista’s stomach do a somersault—“lucrative business practices, and they pay him handsomely.”

Wicks’ eyes burned with hatred as his gaze swung up to Myles.

“When I discovered that juicy bit, I began using it to my advantage,” Myles went on, clearly enjoying the entire scene more than the rest of them.

“That’s why all our sexual assault claims haven’t gone anywhere,” Krista stated. It wasn’t a question. Wicks had the power to stop the complaints in their tracks. He could even erase them from the database and lean on HR to drop the case altogether. Krista glanced at Wendy and Marlise, and they both nodded to confirm it. Then she looked back up at Wicks. “Sir, is it really worth the safety of your officers? Myles is a predator. He needs to be stopped.”

Myles snorted. “It might be, if ol’ Wicksy here didn’t have a massive gambling problem and wasn’t in the hole up to his eyeballs. He needs that payout from Yanni. Big time.”

Wendy made a noise next to her to confirm.

Krista went to stand up. Perhaps she could appeal to the human within Staff Sergeant Wicks. She just needed to figure out how. But Myles was quicker, and the cold barrel of the gun was suddenly pressing into her temple once again. “Sit your ass down. The three of you are going to pay for your nosiness. And then I’m going to go take care of your friend.”

“Allie,” Krista breathed.

“Neither she or her dyke wife were home when I went there earlier.” He snorted and tilted his head toward Wendy and Marlise. “But these two morons were, and it was so easy to immobilize them and get them here.”

The gun was still pointed at her head, but Myles was busy nattering away. Like a true narcissist, he wanted to regale them with just how clever he was. How he’d managed to outwit them all. But this gave Krista time to think. She still had the spare holster on her ankle as Brock had suggested, so if by some chance she could reach down beneath her pants and bring out her gun, then she and Myles would be at a standoff, or he’d have her riddled with bullets before she even stood up. And her only allies were currently tied up and gagged. Myles’s unwilling ally would probably rather shoot her than take the high road and have his countless indiscretions as a staff sergeant brought to light.

She’d seen Myles at target practice. He was good.

She was better.

Could she knock his arm and disarm him without the possibility of the gun going off and hitting Wendy or Marlise?

Was the staff sergeant armed? Now that his secret was out—and it was a doozy—he’d probably feel as though he had to silence them all.

Fuck.

They were stuck.

“Myles,” she whispered, “you don’t have to do this. We can all keep our mouths shut.”

He snorted and knocked the barrel harshly against her head until she saw stars. “Fuckin’ rookies. You all had to just go pokin’ your noses where they don’t belong. Couldn’t leave well enough alone. I had a good thing going, you know? And you,” he pushed her again with the gun, “fucking prude. Wouldn’t give it up. Had to make me work for it. Then I tried to just get rid of you altogether, but your stupid moron of a boyfriend had to be there to save the day.”

Oh God. Her brakes. Her tire.

Krista bit the inside of her cheek. She could not let him see how scared she was. Terrified for Wendy. For Marlise. For her baby.

“Please, Myles. Don’t do this. You’re a good cop. Don’t do this.” She glanced at the staff sergeant. “Sir, please.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Matthews,” Wicks said with reluctance in his voice.

Myles appeared almost bored. “All right, I’m gonna fuck you, and then I’ll get rid of you all.”

Krista’s hand fell to her abdomen, her eyes roaming Wendy and Marlise’s faces. Tears welled up in Wendy’s eyes, and Marlise shook with fear.

The staff sergeant nodded, his face betraying his disgust in Myles. “You want me to take care of these two, then?” He jerked his strong chin toward the other two women.

Myles frowned before bobbing his head. “May as well.”

“No!” Krista screamed, trying to wrench her arm free from Myles. “NO!” But he was stronger than her. She was no match. His fingers dug painful trenches into her arm as he lugged her farther down the hall toward her bedroom. “Please, Myles. Don’t do this. Don’t hurt Wendy and Marlise. You’re better than this. Please don’t hurt my baby.”

He tossed her onto the bed, and with the gun in one hand, he kneed her legs apart and climbed on top of her. His fingers wrapped around her throat. “I bet you like it rough, don’t you? Like that big Neanderthal boyfriend of yours fuckin’ you hard.” He slapped her hard across the face with the gun-heavy hand. Stars burst behind her eyes and her stomach lurched. He was straddling her belly, and the pain, the pressure was too much.

“Myles … please,” she cried.

“That’s right, bitch, beg for it.”

He smacked her hard again across the face before lurching off her and standing at the foot of the bed. Refusing to let go of the gun, his hands fumbled with the high Spandex panel of her maternity jeans.

Her mind, as throbbing and fuzzy as it was, immediately went to the gun on her ankle. He was going to find it.

She lifted her head and noticed her foot was right between his legs. He was struggling to get her pants down her thighs. She needed to act fast before she was immobilized.

His head was down, and he was deep in concentration, so she levered herself up and kicked him hard in the balls. Then, pushing herself up, she head-butted him, sending a cursing and groaning Myles back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch!” he wailed, his hand over his crotch. Blood gushed out of his nose. She’d gotten him good. Krista quickly took inventory of his hands and realized he was gun-free.

Where was the gun?

Ignoring the pounding in her skull, and with lightning reflexes, she reached for the gun on her ankle holster. She cocked the small snub-nose .38 just as Myles lifted his head.

“You’re under arrest,” she whispered.

His chuckle made her skin crawl. And now with the red blood all over his face, he really did look like the creepy clown that wanted to peel off her face.

Then he charged her.

She pulled the trigger. Twice. Double-tapped center mass to stop the threat. Myles stopped, a stunned expression on his face just before he collapsed forward on top of her.

Shoot to kill.

Or be killed.

Thunderous footsteps coming down the hall had her cocking her gun again and aiming it at the door. Even with Myles’s body on top of her, she could still defend herself, defend the baby. The door flung open, and the staff sergeant, gun in hand, stood there. Without a second thought, Krista shot him in the shoulder, causing the gun to fly from his hand.

Then she leveled the barrel at his chest. “It doesn’t have to end this way, sir,” she said smoothly even though her entire body hurt from the weight of Myles on top of her. “Let us help you.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” he said, regret in his voice. His free hand pressed into the gunshot to stop the bleeding. “If only the three of you didn’t know so much.” He stepped forward, no fear on his face. Only … acceptance?

She had no idea if the staff sergeant had “taken care of” Wendy and Marlise yet. She only hoped that he hadn’t and she could get out and save them. His eyes landed on Myles’s gun on the floor by the door. He reached for it.

Only Krista was faster.

Shoot to kill.

Or be killed.

He didn’t even have a chance to stand back up before his body crumpled to the ground.

Krista’s ears were ringing from the gunshots, and her body raged in pain from Myles’s dead weight. She wasn’t sure if that was just her pulse pounding in her ears or boots thundering down the hall.

Suddenly, Myles’s body was being pulled from hers, and there was Brock, his face a mix of terror and then, when she blinked at him, relief.

“Oh thank fuck,” he breathed, hauling her up and pulling her into his chest. Rex and Heath appeared in the doorway as well, their eyes surveying the scene.

“Holy shit,” Heath murmured. He knelt down and checked the staff sergeant’s pulse. “He’s still alive.”

Rex checked Myles’s pulse. “This one’s not.”

“Wendy? Marlise?” She was going into shock, but she had to know if her friends were okay.

Brock’s arms around her loosened, and he held her by the shoulders. “They’re okay.”

Krista finally let out a full breath, the tears of relief tumbling down her cheeks as her body began to shake.

Brock pulled her back into his arms, shushing and stroking her head. “It’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Wendy and Marlise appeared in the doorway, Chase looming behind them like a grumpy mountain.

“Thank God,” Wendy whispered, pushing her way into the room. Brock released Krista, and Wendy went to hug her when Krista doubled over from the sudden stab of pain to her belly, crying out as it spread around her entire midsection and into her back.

Brock’s hands landed on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?

Another shard of pain, this one harder and longer. She fell to her knees on the bedroom floor, and that’s when she noticed the dampness between her legs and the blood staining her gray pants.

“I—I think there’s something wrong with the baby.”