“Anyone else starting to think this was a really bad idea?” he asked as he pulled the car through the front gate to the mayor’s house. He was alone in the car, but it was only a second later before he heard Detective Natalie Metcalfe’s smoky warm voice in the earpiece shoved deep in his right ear.

“I’m pretty sure I told you those exact words just eight hours ago, but someone wasn’t willing to take the time to start a formal investigation.”

“Yeah, but I was safe and sound in my office then.” He said it jokingly, but it was only to mask the panic that was rising in his chest.

Ethan had talked to Hollis on Sunday, and after he’d stopped being pissed about not being included in the growing clusterfuck sooner, he’d contacted a friend at the Cincinnati Police Department. That cop then directed Ethan to Natalie Metcalfe, one of the lead detectives in Indian Hill where the mayor lived. She was known for being completely straight and narrow. A total by-the-book cop. Unfortunately, she’d had more than a few run-ins with Rowe and Ward Security, so she wasn’t a big fan of private security and private detectives.

It had taken them a good chunk of Sunday and all of Monday morning to convince her to not go directly to the mayor and question him. They needed proof without tipping the man off that they were closing in on him.

What Shane got was two cops and a wire.

Not exactly the cavalry he’d been hoping for.

That wasn’t true. He also had Quinn and Royce in a vehicle close by. Dominic was sticking close to his dad until this was all over. Quinn had weaseled the code out of Natalie for the wire signal if he promised to keep his distance from the operation. Quinn was secreted away in the surveillance van that belonged to the agency where he could listen in on the conversation, but he couldn’t talk directly to Shane.

Shane wanted Quinn safe. It was the only way that he could go into that house. He was still coming to grips with being in love for the first time in his life, and the thought of Quinn being in the line of fire made him break out into a cold sweat. He liked Quinn in the van—not in the action.

Tonight, he had one goal: get the mayor to admit that he’d murdered his wife. The police could do nothing without a confession or at least some kind of proof that there had been foul play when it came to Brenda Spring’s death. Quinn had tried to argue for someone to sneak in and clone the hard drive for the security system, but Shane knew that would require Quinn getting into the house. And that was never going to happen. No, he was fine wearing the wire and digging for the confession.

Okay, maybe he had two goals. He also had to get out alive.

Pulling the car to the side of the long driveway in front of the main entrance, Shane wiped the palm of his right hand on the leg of his pants before shifting it into park. The sun was setting behind the trees, casting long shadows over the house. It was hard to remember that he’d seen this place as warm and inviting just a few days earlier. Now when he looked up at the dark windows and carefully trimmed landscaping, it reminded him of something out of a horror movie. That nice, unassuming family that always hosted the block barbecue was really a family of ax murders who used the bones of their victims to sculpt furniture for their rumpus room.

If he survived this, he swore he was never watching another fucking horror movie. For the rest of his life, he was on a strict diet of romantic comedies and buddy action flicks. Preferably curled up on his couch with Quinn and Norma Jean.

He had to get through this part to get to that happy dream, though.

Swallowing hard, he walked up the stone path to the front door. The kids had to be home. If the kids were home, then nothing bad could happen to him. And he had cops at his back, protecting him. Royce was with Quinn, keeping him safe.

He was ready.

With one last deep breath, he pushed the doorbell, the tinkling chime echoing through the house. He waited only a minute before footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor. The door opened to reveal a smiling Gerald Spring. He was dressed in a pair of slacks and a white button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms, and his hair was slightly disheveled as if he’d been working for long hours at his desk.

Everything about the man shouted normal, hard-working guy who didn’t have a violent bone in his body. A victim. A target purely because he was running for political office. Nothing in his eyes, in his smile, indicating that he was saying anything but the truth.

“Shane, thanks for coming over,” he said enthusiastically. He stepped back and waved for Shane to enter before shutting the door behind him. “I’m sorry about the short notice. I wanted to sit down with you and get an update on the situation. We’re down to the last two weeks before the election and things are getting crazy around here.”

“How are the girls dealing with it?” Shane glanced around the entrance, straining to hear any other sounds of people, but it was as silent as a tomb.

“Not bad at the moment. They’re staying with my parents for the next couple of weeks. I tend to have a lot of campaign workers coming through my house, and I don’t want them disturbing my daughters’ routine.”

Shane’s stomach sank at Gerald’s words. He was counting on the presence of the kids as a buffer. “That’s understandable.” He forced a smile, pushing down his own fears while maintaining an easy conversation. If he didn’t act like he suspected anything, the mayor might keep talking. “But the last time I saw the polls, you had a good lead on your opponent. That’s got to take some of the stress off.”

“The polls are good, but I’ve never been one to trust them. The fight isn’t over until the voting is closed.” He winked and then started to lead the way across the polished wood floor to the kitchen. “How about a drink? Iced tea? Or maybe something harder?”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Shane followed him into the kitchen and stood by the center island while he watched Gerald grab a glass out of the cabinet and fix himself some ice water. He tried to glance around for a sign of the bodyguard, but the man was nowhere in sight.

“So what do you have for me? Did you manage to track down who has been hacking into my accounts?”

“We have a lead on a person.” Shane paused, gripping the edge of the granite countertop. His leg was starting to throb from standing so long. The half a painkiller he’d popped before leaving the office wasn’t cutting it, but he didn’t want to risk being groggy when going up against Spring and his bodyguard. “We think it’s someone from your wife’s past.”

Spring frowned, causing lines to cut through his brow. “I can’t imagine who. Everyone loved my wife.”

“But maybe this person didn’t love you.”

“Who?”

“I’d rather not say just yet since it’s speculation. We need more evidence. I don’t want to ruin an innocent person’s life.”

Gerald grunted. Ice clinked in the glass as he set it down on the counter. “You’re a good, honorable man, Shane. You’ve always struck me as being fair.”

“I try.”

“Is there anything that you can tell me?”

“We’ve put up traps and guards to protect your accounts, so you shouldn’t have any troubles with the hacker.”

“Good. How did you find her?”

Shane clenched his teeth, fighting not to outwardly react. He’d never given the person’s gender. “We uncovered emails written by your wife. Emails in an account that you didn’t give me. It was linked to her personal account.”

He watched the mayor closely, trying to keep his breathing even and steady as his pulse raced. Gerald gave no signs that he was at all surprised that his wife had an email account that he didn’t know about. He simply nodded as if he were following along with Shane’s story.

“Did you beat your wife, Gerald?” Shane demanded, his voice hardening.

A soft sigh slid from Gerald’s parted lips and his eyes remained on the melting ice in his glass. “My wife was a very sick woman. Few people knew that.”

“The instances she detailed when you beat her matched with times when she was out of the public eye. When she didn’t appear with you at functions.”

“She was sick.”

“There were pictures attached to some of the emails. Black eyes. Bruises around her neck as if she’d been strangled by a pair of large hands.” Shane had struggled to open those attachments when he’d realized what they were. There hadn’t been many and after just the first one, he’d been ready to shoot Spring himself.

“Was it an accident?” Shane pressed when the silence stretched from the mayor.

“An accident?”

“Killing your wife? Did you have an argument too close to the stairs? Just a little shove to get her away from you? And then the next thing you know, she’s falling down the stairs, breaking her neck?”

Gerald’s sigh was louder this time. Lifting his head, his smiled at Shane and it was like a mask had fallen away. The nice, honest man that had invited Shane into his home was gone, replaced by a sinister figure with evil bleeding out from his soul. Holy fuck, how had he not seen it earlier?

“You know Shane, you’re not my only visitor today. I had an old friend drop by for an unexpected visit. I think you’d really like to talk to her.”

A cold knot of fear formed in Shane’s stomach. He could too easily guess who Gerald was holding, making the whole situation ten times more difficult. It was no longer just about getting a confession and getting himself out alive.

“Gerald, I’m just looking for the truth,” Shane said firmly but calmly.

Lifting his left hand, he pointed a gun at Shane. “I liked you, Shane. I really did. You’re a good guy. The kind of person that I’m fighting for as mayor. The kind of person I want to support to help make our city truly great.”

“Whoa!” Shane took a step back, putting his hands up. “There’s no need to pull a gun on me.” God, he hoped the damn wire was still working, because his backup needed to know that this meeting had gone south fast.

“We’re ready to charge when you give the signal,” Natalie firmly said in his ear.

Geronimo was balanced on the tip of his tongue. It was the code word they’d agreed on if things got too dangerous and the police needed to storm the house. But he couldn’t get himself to say the word. Right now, Gerald Spring was talking and not pulling the trigger. If he was willing to talk, then Shane might be able to get a confession out of him. He also needed to set his eyes on Spring’s other “guest.”

“But I think I do, because I know that you’re not being honest with me. It’s not your fault, of course. She got to you. She got to my wife too.”

“Gerald—”

“Come with me. Let’s go have a chat with the woman who is trying to fucking ruin my life,” he snarled, showing a hint of anger for the first time. But it was like lightning. A flash and then his expression smoothed over again, the sinister smile back in place.

“Where are we going?” Shane asked as Gerald gave a little wave of the gun toward the back set of stairs off the kitchen.

“Let’s go down to the man cave. That’s the perfect place to take care of this sort of thing.”

Moving behind Shane, Gerald herded him across the kitchen to the stairs. As he was about to take the first step down, Gerald’s right hand landed heavily on Shane’s shoulder, stopping him. He held him there, the muzzle of the gun pressing hard below his shoulder blade on the other side of his speeding heart.

“And to answer your question,” Gerald said as he leaned close, his hot breath brushing against the shell of his ear. “It wasn’t an accident. My wife didn’t fall down the stairs. I shoved her filthy, lying ass over the railing on the second floor and her head shattered on the hardwood like a dropped watermelon.” He then gave Shane a small shove so that he’d walk down the stairs.

Pain screamed through Shane’s thigh as he slowly limped his way down to the basement, leaning heavily on the railing as he went. A small part of him wanted to celebrate that he’d gotten the confession he’d been looking for, but he was still at gunpoint and he had no idea what he was walking into.

Taking a breath, he opened his mouth to say the code word when he turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs…and his heart skipped a beat. Kate was there. Fuck.

Tied to a chair in the middle of the room on top of yards and yards of plastic sheets. They protected the carpet and the furniture that had been pushed back against the walls from blood splatter. Behind Kate stood Carl, Gerald’s bodyguard, with a gun pointed at the back of Kate’s head.

He could only guess that she’d been there a while. A thick piece of duct tape stretched across her mouth while her eyes were swollen shut. Cuts and bruises covered her face and arms, and blood streaked down her pale skin to soak into her torn black turtleneck. She didn’t move at the sound of Gerald’s voice, but Shane could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

The code word was swallowed down. There were two armed men and now two hostages in the house. And there were only two cops sitting outside. Shane had his gun tucked in a holster on his ankle, but those were some damn bad odds for him and Kate.

“What have you done to this woman? You tortured her,” he said for Natalie and the other cop. He prayed that Quinn didn’t do anything stupid like try to storm the house. The man had an enormous heart and even without using her name, Quinn would be able to guess that Shane was looking down at Kate Masters.

“Don’t act like you don’t know who she is. What she’s done!” Gerald growled. He shoved Shane hard into the room, causing him to take a few stumbling steps. The plastic rattled loudly underfoot and pain lanced up the back of his leg. “She corrupted my wife.”

“She loved your wife!” Shane shouted back as he regained his balance.

“Bullshit! If she loved Brenda, then she would have left her alone. She would have respected our marriage vows. She kept trying to convince Brenda to leave me and take the kids. As if I was going to allow two fucking lesbians to live in sin and corrupt my poor girls.”

“She had her own son, who was a good man that loved his mother. How is that a threat of corruption?”

A dark chuckle left Gerald and his smile widened. “And I had that little bitch killed too when he came to meet you.” He made a tsking noise and Shane followed Gerald’s gaze over to his bodyguard. “He was supposed to kill you too just in case the boy managed to tell you something, but he fucking missed.”

And Shane had never been so grateful in his life. “So you knew the entire time that it was Kate who hacked you.”

Gerald’s grin returned to his lips as he looked at Shane. “Yes. I just hired you to figure out what you knew. Hoped you might even draw her out if you did get close.”

“But how did you know about our meeting? I’m assuming it was Carl who was shooting at us in Sawyer Point.”

“Carl put a tracking device on your car the first time you came to visit. He kept an eye on you, followed you to the park. I knew it was only a matter of time. Figured he could kill you and her, then just sweep this whole mess under the rug.”

“That’s it, Shane. We got everything we need to take this dirtbag down,” Natalie whispered. It was hard to believe but she actually sounded giddy. The only problem was that he was standing between two shooters and had no idea how he was going to get himself and Kate to cover before the cops charged on the place.

“You’re planning to kill another innocent woman after killing her son—”

Gerald reached over and grabbed Shane roughly by the shoulder so he could pull him close. His fist twisted Shane’s sports jacket. “There’s nothing innocent about that whore. She…” His voice suddenly dropped off and his fingers moved along Shane’s shoulder, pressing into something. Shane’s stomach clenched. He knew what Spring was feeling. The wire that hooked into a little Bluetooth pack taped to his back. The earpiece was wireless, but there was a thin wire required to help boost the signal.

“What the fuck is this?” he said. He pulled at Shane’s jacket and shirt, but Shane batted away his hands, backpedaling away from him. He couldn’t get closer to Kate to help her, but he wasn’t far from the bar.

“What is it?” Carl demanded. Out of the corner of Shane’s eye, he saw the hulking bodyguard start to step around Kate so that she was no longer between Shane and the other man.

“I felt a wire.”

“You didn’t fucking check him when he came in the house? He’s probably fucking armed!”

“Shane! What’s going on?” Natalie started shouting in his ear. “We need you to give the signal that you’re clear.”

“Fuck,” Shane said on a resigned sigh. It wasn’t going to get any better than this. “Geronimo!” He laughed right before he snatched a bottle of bourbon off the bar by the neck and smashed it against the side of Spring’s head. The caramel-colored liquid was a sparkling starburst of glass and refracted light for a second.

Gerald and Carl jumped back while Shane dove behind the bar for cover. He twisted his body, landing on his back. Struggling with his pants for a heartbeat, he grabbed his gun and fired the second that Gerald’s face came into view. The shot went wild as he’d planned. He didn’t want to kill the bastard.…Well, maybe he wanted to kill him a little bit…but he really wanted him to go to jail and rot there for the rest of his life.

“You didn’t take his goddamn gun?” Carl roared.

“I wasn’t expecting him to come in here armed!”

“You’re a fucking idiot. I can’t—”

Carl’s outraged rant was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open on the first floor and the thunder of footsteps. The police had finally arrived.

“I’m not going to fucking jail for you.” Carl’s voice was a vicious snarl before Shane heard the door to the backyard open and hit the wall.

“You can’t leave me!” Gerald cried. “You’re my fucking bodyguard. You’re supposed to protect me.”

Carl never answered.

Shane shoved back to his feet and slowly rose, his gun at the ready should Spring try to take a shot at him. As Shane peeked his head above the bar, Spring spotted him again, his expression shifting from lost and bewildered to rage.

“This is all your fault!” He swung his gun around and started firing off shots. Shane instantly dropped back down so that the bullets plowed through the wall of liquor bottles behind him. Glass exploded in the air and alcohol poured down on him in a cool, sticky waterfall.

“Police! Drop your weapon!” Detective Metcalfe’s voice thundered over the shots. “Put your hands in the air.”

“But…but…” Gerald said plaintively but a second later, Shane heard the gun thud to the carpet and plastic.

As Shane struggled back to his feet, he found Natalie shoving Gerald down and slapping handcuffs on him as she recited his Miranda rights. Her partner was checking over Kate Masters. She was moving a bit, indicating that she was now conscious, but she looked like hell.

“The bodyguard,” Shane said as soon as Natalie stopped talking. “He ran out the back.”

“I’ve called in backup. They’re on their way.”

“But he’s getting away.” Shane wanted to run after Carl, but his leg was causing him too much pain. Spring might have been issuing all the orders, but Carl pulled the trigger that killed Kate’s son. He was the one shooting at Sawyer Point just a few days ago. He also likely had a hand in Kate’s torture. The man needed to go down with Spring.

“We’ll get him.”

That seemed doubtful. He had a head start. They didn’t know if he was still on foot or if he’d grabbed a car.

And that was when it hit him that the detective hadn’t been the only one listening in on the conversation caught by the wire. Quinn was sitting in the Merleau surveillance van listening to every word.

Icy fear smashed into his heart and stole his breath away. His knees wobbled and he clutched the edge of the bar until he could suck air back into his lungs.

“Don’t, Quinn,” he gasped. “Don’t fucking do it. Don’t go after him. I’m begging you.”

But Quinn didn’t have a mic to talk to him. There was only silence.