As he rounded the back of the building, Sutton heard sobbing. Then he saw Leslie, sitting with her back against the brick wall, huddled in a fetal position. Anger burned over him, sending sharp pains shooting up the base of his skull. He whirled around, looking for Howie, but he was nowhere to be found.

He stepped up beside Leslie. “Hey, you okay?”

She jerked, looking up at him. The sight of her took his fury to new heights. Her right eye was swollen and purple, a thin trickle of blood running from her lip. “Go away. Please,” she squeaked, her voice breaking. She gulped a few times, making a wheezing sound as her shoulders shook, then she buried her head in her knees and continued weeping.

Maybe he should’ve walked away, but it wasn’t in him to retreat. He couldn’t walk away when everything in him screamed that he needed to help this woman. He sat down beside her in the dirt of the alley and let her get it all out.

When Leslie realized he was beside her, she lifted her head in surprise. The blood from her lip was smeared across her face, tears spilling down her cheeks. She sniffed and used the back of her hand to wipe her nose, which was running like a faucet.

“Why?” She took in a ragged breath and tried again. “Why are you still here?” She took in more labored breaths, trying to get her emotions under control.

“Because I never could leave a man, or woman, behind.”

“I don’t understand. You don’t even know me.” Her shoulders were still shaking.

He gave her a tiny smile. “I know you’re hurting and that you’re desperate—desperate for it all to stop.”

She hugged herself, clamping her lips together.

He touched her arm. “Tell me about Howie.”

Panic seeped into her eyes, her lower lip trembling.

“Why don’t you leave him?”

A laugh scratched through her throat. “I can’t.” The sorrow was replaced by a wild look, reminding him again of an abused animal.

“Because you love him?”

She shuddered. “Because he’ll kill me and my son.”

He went cold all over. “Why don’t you go to the police?”

A macabre smile split her lips. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” She shook her head. “You don’t know Howie. He has nothing to lose and he never gives up.” Her voice dribbled off into a stilted silence.

Sutton ran the options through his mind. He could take Leslie to the police to file a report, but like she said, it wouldn’t do any good. Howie would just take his wrath out on Leslie and her son. Alarm slithered down his spine. There was a child involved. There was no way Sutton could turn his back on this. Today was about honoring Doug, so he would fix this. Then he could go out knowing he’d done something right.

“How long has Howie been beating you?”

“We’ve been together … almost ten years.”

It boggled Sutton’s mind to think Leslie had been putting up with this for a decade. It was a miracle she wasn’t dead already. “He’s been beating you the entire time?”

“No, he was all right, at first, as long as he stayed off the bottle. It got worse a couple of years ago when we found out our son has leukemia.”

Sutton felt like the air had been knocked out of him. “Why then?”

“He’s angry that our boy’s dying, I suppose. Blames me. Says if I’d taken better care of him, then he wouldn’t have gotten sick.” She sucked in a breath. “Or that if I earned more money, we could get him better treatment.”

His jaw clenched. That was ridiculous. Cancer could affect anybody. “What type of work does Howie do?”

“He was working at a warehouse job, driving a forklift, but got laid off six months ago when he showed up drunk.”

The more Sutton learned about Howie, the more he detested the guy. Maybe he should’ve gone with his first inclination and beat Howie to a pulp. “So, let me get this straight, Howie sits around on his bum, then beats on you, blaming you for your son’s illness.”

She let out a half-laugh. “Pathetic, I know.” She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes bulging. “This isn’t me. I was never gonna be one of those women who let their husband beat them.” She cleared her throat, spreading her hands. “And yet here I am.” Her brown eyes hardened to black. “I don’t care what Howie does to me. I just have to take care of my son.”

“Is he being treated?”

She brought a fist to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Sutton touched her shoulder. “Leslie?”

“Yes.” She sucked in a breath. “Chemo and radiation, but it’s not helping. There’s an experimental treatment in Scottsdale, Arizona. It’s been yielding good results for Doug’s type of leukemia, but I’ll never be able to afford it.”

Sutton jerked. “What did you say your son’s name was?”

“Doug.”

An incredulous laugh gurgled in his throat. Seriously? Her boy’s name was Doug? This was too much. Moisture rose to his eyes as he blinked it away.

A sob escaped Leslie’s throat. “I—I don’t know how I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Sutton managed to get out through his own strangled throat. This was insane. More than a coincidence.

She turned to him, the raw desperation in her eyes cutting him to the core. “Let him go.” Her voice broke as she wiped at the tears. “I—I don’t want to lose my son.”

Someday a doctor would look sympathetically into Leslie’s eyes. I regret to inform you …

No parent should ever have to hear those words. “Do you think the experimental treatments will cure him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but if there’s the slightest chance—”

He nodded, knowing he would’ve gone to the end of the Earth and back if it could’ve saved his Doug. Then it occurred to him that even though he couldn’t save his son, he could help Leslie … give her son a fighting chance. A flicker of hope glimmered in his chest. He marveled at the feeling, something he thought he’d never experience again. A tiny prick of light had managed to penetrate the dark fog. He turned to Leslie, locking eyes with her.

“What if I can help?”

“How?” she asked, wariness seeping into her voice. But with that wariness came a blip of hope.

“Where is Howie?”

She shrank back. “I appreciate your help, but you don’t know how ruthless he is. You look … like you aren’t someone to mess with but he’s sneaky. He’ll hurt you. Maybe even kill you,” she stammered.

He chuckled dryly. “Though unlikely, it would do us both a favor.”

“What?” She looked confused.

“Nothing.” He let out a long breath. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on helping Doug get better.” He offered a smile. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find a way to get those treatments he needs.”

Her lower lip quivered. “I pray every day for a miracle.”

A miracle? That’s what Agatha had asked for. “Where’s Howie?”

“Are you sure about this, Mister?” She shook her head. “You’ve been so kind, and I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m a friend. That’s all you need to know.”

She smiled through her tears. “No, you’re an angel. Thank you for talking to me.” She laughed to herself. “I’m such a mess.”

“Would you like for me to take you home?”

“No, I need to finish my shift.” She rose to her feet, wincing in pain.

Sutton also stood. As battered and bruised as Leslie was, he didn’t see how she could work. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the rest of the day off?”

“No, the evening shift will be busy and we’re shorthanded as it is.” She took in a deep breath. “I need this job. I keep makeup with me, for, you know …”

To cover up the damage, his mind supplied. Disgust rankled his gut. “Okay. Tell me where to find Howie.”

She blinked a couple of times.

Sutton touched her arm. “Let me help you. I promise it’ll be okay.” The air seemed to hold its breath as she reached a decision.

“He didn’t say where he was going, but I suspect he’ll be at his usual haunt—Jack Riley’s Bar and Grill.” She spat out the words like they left a nasty taste in her mouth. She searched Sutton’s face. “What’re you going to do?” Her voice sounded small and scared.

“Make sure that he never hurts you or Doug again.”

“If you could accomplish that feat, then it really would be a miracle.”

He gave Leslie a nod, knowing this would be the last time they ever spoke. “I hope all goes well with Doug’s treatment … and that you get your miracle.”

She hugged her arms. “Me too.”

Sutton left the diner and drove to Jack Riley’s. Just as Leslie said, he found Howie sitting near the bartender, hunched over, downing a shot of whiskey. Sutton left the bar, then sat in his Tesla to wait.

According to the sign posted beside the door, the bar stayed open until two a.m. Sutton sighed, leaning back against his seat. He couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the situation. He’d planned this day down to the detail, thought he’d be long dead by now. He never dreamt he’d be sitting outside a bar waiting for some bozo to come out so he could take care of him.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his trusted friend, Landry Stevens. They’d served in the Royal Navy together and had an agreement. If one of them ever needed a favor, the other would return it without hesitation. Landry ran a private security firm and was so well connected that Sutton knew he could help with any situation. Sure enough, when Sutton explained the problem, Landry had an immediate solution.

“I’ll get in touch with my friend and tell him to expect your call,” Landry said. They spoke for a few more minutes, Landry expressing his condolences about Doug, before Sutton ended the call.

Sutton couldn’t explain it, but something had changed after his conversation with Leslie. Now that he was focused on helping her, his own problems weren’t as painful. Almost like … a miracle. It was empowering to know that he could make a difference in someone’s life—give Leslie and her son a shot at hope. This problem was within his power to fix. “Bet you didn’t see this one coming, did you, Doug?” he said aloud with a chuckle. “Well, it’s okay. Neither did I.”

It was after midnight, and Howie still hadn’t emerged from the bar. Sutton figured the man was so drunk by now that he wouldn’t put up much of a fight. Shame, really.

Sutton’s senses went on full alert when Howie stumbled out of the bar. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing through the process. He wasn’t sure where it would go down, exactly, but he’d meet the objective. He assumed Howie would get into a car, but was surprised when he walked down the sidewalk instead. That must mean that Leslie lived nearby. This would be easier than he thought.

Sutton inched behind Howie, his Tesla moving soundlessly at a snail’s pace, the headlights turned off. When he bought the car, he’d figured out how to jailbreak it to get rid of the annoying whine at low speeds that was supposed to alert pedestrians. Who knew it would turn out helpful in a covert op like this?

He had to make sure and keep enough distance between him and Howie, so he wouldn’t get suspicious. He glanced at the storefronts on either side of the street. Even though there wasn’t another person in sight, there were too many street lamps to make a move here and risk being seen or picked up on a random surveillance video. When Howie turned down a dark alley, Sutton’s pulse shot through the roof. It was now or never. He pulled behind Howie and got out.

He figured Howie would hear movement and turn around, but he kept staggering forward like he was oblivious. He got close enough to tap Howie on the shoulder.

Howie grunted and turned. “Whadda ya want?” he slurred, his arm flinging into the air. He teetered, trying to catch his balance. “I told you to put it on my tab.”

“Remember me?” Sutton glared at Howie.

Howie swayed back and forth as he looked at Sutton, his face blank. Then something clicked as his eyes widened in recognition. “The man from the diner!”

“The man who has nothing to lose.”

Howie tried to run, but his reaction time was slow. Sutton caught his collar and spun him back around. Howie cursed and balled his fist, but Sutton executed a quick uppercut to the jaw. Howie laughed then lashed out, punching and kicking, but he was no match for Sutton. He methodically pounded Howie’s face a few more times, until the weasel fell to the ground. He bent down and felt for Howie’s pulse. Still going. He was just passed out cold.

In a flash, Sutton went to his car and opened the boot. Then he picked Howie up and heaved him over his shoulder, grunting in the process. The dead weight was heavy. He hobbled back to the car and dropped Howie into the boot. The empty air around Sutton crawled like ants over his skin, and all he could think about was getting out of here before anyone saw him.

He got back in the car and wiped the sweat from his brow. His heart was pounding so fiercely it felt like it would beat out of his chest. He reached for his phone and punched in the number.

A man answered on the first ring. “Hola.”

“Javier, it’s Sutton, Landry’s friend.”

“Sí, señor, I’ve been expecting you. I understand you have a package for me.”

“Yep, he’ll make a fine addition to your prison.”

“I’ll have someone meet you at the designated location. You know where that is?”

“Yes.”

“Perfecto. Park near the road. We’ll find you. Adios, amigo.”

“Adios.” Sutton hung up the phone, a surge of adrenaline spiking through him. Howie would no longer be able to hurt Leslie or her son. “Phase one, check,” he said aloud, a smile overtaking his lips as he set his GPS for Tijuana and pulled out of the alley.