A voice floated to him on the breeze. “Stop right there, bitch. I said stop.”

Lance slowed and quieted his steps. He didn’t want Isaac to have any warning that he was coming.

The trail opened onto the overlook clearing. Isaac stood in the mouth of the trail, his back to Lance, the gun in his hand pointed at Haley.

Placing each step carefully and silently on the trail, Lance eased up behind him and pressed the butt of his own gun into the back of Isaac’s head. “Drop it.”

Isaac froze for a second, as if he needed time to process his failure. Then his gun hit the ground, and his hands shot into the air.

Relief flowed through Lance. Haley was going to be all right.

But across the clearing, a voice said, “I don’t think so.”

Lance glanced ahead. Haley stood in the center of the clearing, about ten feet away from Lance and Isaac. Fifteen feet in front of her, at the entrance to the path that led up to the road, Chase Baker stood with a rifle in his hands, pointed at the sky. He lowered the barrel until it was aimed at Haley. Chase had cut off her escape route.

“Put the gun down or I’ll shoot her.” Chase handled the weapon with the comfort born of a lifetime of use.

Lance’s brain whirled. Now what? If he dropped his gun, then he and Haley were dead. Chase would shoot them, or even worse, take them to a secondary location and kill them there. Then Chase and Isaac would roll them off the overlook or bury them in the woods somewhere. Giving Chase control over the situation would not increase Haley’s and Lance’s odds of survival. Isaac and Chase had come here to kill Haley. They weren’t going to walk away after all the effort they’d gone through to get to her.

If Lance didn’t lower his gun, Chase might shoot Haley. But Lance would definitely be able to take Isaac down. Then he’d only have to worry about Chase. Haley might survive a bullet wound if help came quickly.

“I like my odds with the gun,” Lance called out. If he shifted his aim over Isaac’s shoulder, could he hit Chase before Chase shot Haley?

Chase was twenty-five feet away from Lance, too far away for an accurate handgun shot in the dark. Haley was in the way, and Lance’s vision was blurry from the fire.

“I mean it.” Chase wagged his rifle. “I can’t miss her at this distance.” His long gun was a much more accurate weapon.

“Why do you want her?” Lance asked.

“Fuck you!” Chase yelled. “And drop the gun, or I’ll blow a hole right through her.”

“You’re going to shoot her anyway.” Lance kept his voice calm. “And I’m going to blow the back of Isaac’s head clean off. Then I’m going to shoot you. However you look at it, I’m the one who’s going to survive.”

He tried to sound as if he didn’t care that much if Haley was shot, but the fury building inside him—and the soot he’d swallowed—wouldn’t let him. His voice was Clint Eastwood harsh.

“I’m going to count to three, and then she’s dead.” Chase raised the rifle to his shoulder. “One. Two.” Something snapped.

Lance’s heart skipped a beat.

A gunshot blasted. Haley dropped to the ground and rolled toward the overlook. To Lance’s horror, she slid beneath the metal barrier and went over the edge.

Chase had shot her.

Holding Isaac by his ponytail, Lance leveled his gun over Isaac’s shoulder at Chase. But Chase’s rifle barrel tipped toward the ground. His hands opened and released his grip on the stock. The weapon clattered to the earth. A heartbeat later, Chase dropped to his knees and fell on his face in the dirt. Behind him, on the dark trail that led up to the road, Morgan aimed her Glock at the place where Chase had been standing. Her face was frozen with shock, as if she were surprised at what she’d just done.

Chase hadn’t shot Haley.

Morgan had shot Chase.

For one full breath, Lance just stared. Then Morgan seemed to wake up. She walked closer to Chase, bent down, and placed her fingers on his neck. “He’s dead.”

Her tone was too matter-of-fact as she shifted her aim to Isaac. “I’ll cover him. See if Haley . . .” Her voice broke.

Lance burst into action. He scooped Isaac’s gun out of the dirt, shoved it into his waistband, then lunged toward the overlook barrier. Leaning over it, he called, “Haley!”

Where could she be? He hadn’t heard her body strike the ground or crash through the branches of the trees below. Could she be hung up on the slope somewhere?

He pulled his flashlight out of his pocket and played the beam of light into the ravine. It was too deep for him to see the bottom. He searched the side of the gorge.

“Do you see her?” Morgan called.

“No.” Lance called out, “Haley!”

“I’m here.” Haley’s voice startled him. She was closer than he’d expected.

Lance turned the light toward his feet. Haley was splayed upright against the side of the ravine, her face and body pressed into the earth, both hands holding on to the bottom rung of the metal barrier. Her bare feet dug for purchase in the side of the cliff. Finding none, she dangled.

She was alive. She hadn’t fallen over the side. She’d intentionally dropped over the edge.

Lance let out the breath he’d been holding. He extended a hand toward her. “Give me your hand.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid to let go, but I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

Lance aimed the flashlight on the slope below her feet. “There’s a boulder nine inches from your right foot. If your foot is at six o’clock, the rock is at two o’clock. Prop your foot on it, then reach for my hand.”

Haley raised her leg. Her bare toes felt for and found the rock. She braced against it, then looked up at him. Her eyes were white-rimmed with fear.

Lance reached for her hand. “You can do it.”

Their gazes met. Haley swallowed, and determination tightened her jaw.

She pushed off the boulder, released one hand from the barrier, and stretched toward him. Lance caught her by the wrist and pulled her up and over the rail. Her feet hit the earth, her knees buckled, and she began to sob.

Lance turned his attention to Isaac, forced him to his knees, and secured his hands behind his back with a zip tie.

Morgan rushed to the girl’s side, wrapped her arms around her, and told her, “It’s all right. It’s all over.”

Morgan supported Haley with an arm around her waist. “Let’s get you out of here. You’re freezing.”

“Where did you come from?” Lance asked Morgan.

The breeze blew her hair across her face, and she shoved it back. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch you, so I drove to the other end of the trail and circled down from the road.”

She was so smart, he thought with a giddy burst of pride.

Haley was wearing only thin yoga pants and a T-shirt. She’d used her sweatshirt to stem Sharp’s bleeding. Lance took off his jacket and wrapped it around her. Looking at Haley’s bare feet made him think of his own, and his stitches began to throb. He suspected his dash down the trail had torn them.

A small price to pay for surviving. Not that he’d had much to do with that in the end. Morgan had saved them.

Esposito and two state troopers ran into the clearing. Lance handed Isaac over. Then he moved to Haley’s other side to support her. She was moving gingerly, both of her feet hurting. The cold, rocky trail must have been brutal in bare feet.

He caught Morgan’s eye over the girl’s shoulders, then scooped Haley into his arms. She weighed nothing. But she’d survived. Toughness had nothing to do with bulk and brawn and everything to do with determination and the ability to think under duress.

He glanced at Morgan. She defined grace under pressure. As she fell into step beside him, he knew that was exactly the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life: with her at his side.

Morgan grabbed Esposito’s arm. “How is Sharp?”

“I don’t know.” The ADA looked at the ground and shook his head. “He didn’t look good. I’m sorry.”

Lance’s heart squeezed as he carried Haley up the trail to the road. He couldn’t imagine life without Sharp. Dread fisted in his gut.