We headed outside, and I was struck anew by the depth of the darkness. Lula’s cabin didn’t have electricity, and I had no idea how close her neighbors were. While it took a second for my eyes to adjust, there was no denying the sound we both heard: a car was approaching on the county road.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Wyatt snuck a glance at me, studied the lane leading to the county road, and then grabbed my arm. “Come on.”

We raced down the steps, moving toward the tree line to the west, away from the creek.

The sound of the vehicle came closer and headlights appeared on the lane. My fear turned to relief when I saw it was a sheriff’s SUV. A familiar face was behind the wheel.

“It’s Marco,” I said, pulling free from Wyatt’s hold. “He heard me.”

I started to leave the tree line to run to Marco, but a gunshot rang out nearby, shattering the driver’s window of SUV.

Wyatt dove on top of me as he pushed me to the ground.

“Marco!” I screamed.

Another shot rang out, and Wyatt’s full weight held me flat on the ground. Marco’s car continued on toward the shack, coming to a stop on the other side of Wyatt’s truck. Its headlights illuminated the sagging front porch. The back window of his SUV had been shot out.

“Son of a bitch,” Wyatt growled. “It’s coming from the trees close to the driveway.” He rolled off me and got into a squat.

Another shot hit Wyatt’s truck.

“He’s aiming at Marco,” he said, pulling me to a squatting position too. “Let’s make a run for the trees ahead.”

I got to my feet, hunching low to the ground, and Wyatt kept himself between me and the gunman as we ran for cover.

The next gunshot was aimed in our direction, and another shot quickly followed from behind Wyatt’s truck. Marco.

“Give it up, Conrad,” Marco called out. “Backup’s on the way.”

“And who are they going to believe?” Paul shouted. “A veteran deputy or a deputy who’s thick as thieves with the Drummonds?”

“Maybe they’ll believe this,” Marco said. Paul’s voice filled the air, radiating from his car’s stereo system, turned up full blast, as the Explorer’s headlights switched off.

“You stay away from Mitzi or I’ll make your life a livin’ hell. Trust me, girl, I’ve got the power to do it.”

The words he’d said to me when I’d showed up at Mitzi’s house to ask her questions.

The volume lowered and Abby’s confession played. How had Marco gotten that?

Marco shouted, “You’ve been under investigation, Conrad. And Abby Donahey’s statement will be the nail in the coffin. Come with me peacefully.”

“And spend the rest of my life in prison on trumped-up charges?” Paul’s voice carried across the small clearing.

Wyatt leaned into my ear and whispered, “Keep going around toward the back of the cabin.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

“Get answers, but he’ll know my location, so we need to separate. I can’t risk him shooting at me and hitting you.”

“I don’t want him shooting at all,” I protested.

“Me neither, but something tells me we’re not going to get our wish.”

“Be careful, Wyatt.”

“I will. Go.” He gave me a little shove, and I started walking through the trees while my voice and Paul’s filled the air from the Explorer’s speakers.

“Turn it off!” Paul said, his voice sounding closer, which meant he was moving through the trees toward Wyatt. “I’ve heard enough.”

The recording stopped, and the silence was eerie.

“Who called in the anonymous tip the night of my arrest?” Wyatt asked.

“Mitzi,” Paul said. “Heather convinced her to do it, but it’s eaten her up ever since. Even though you could have easily bought your way out of it. You chose to be a stubborn ass. Just like that stupid Heather.”

Sirens sounded in the distance.

“Give yourself up, Conrad!” Marco shouted again. “You might be able to get a plea bargain if you give up some of the other crooked deputies.”

“No way in hell!” A barrage of gunfire followed.

I ducked down even though the house stood between me and the bullets. I considered running toward it. Would it be safer close to the house or here in the trees?

I held my breath as I waited to hear from Marco and Wyatt.

Nothing.

The sirens grew louder, and I inched my way closer to the creek, but the silence was overwhelming, and every step seemed to give me away.

“Wyatt?” Max shouted from in front of the house.

Max was here? Had he come with Marco?

Wyatt didn’t answer.

Another round of gunfire came from the trees, closer this time.

Had Paul shot Wyatt? I tried not to panic.

One thing was certain, I didn’t want to just sit in the trees and get shot. After the next exchange of gunfire, I made a run for the back of the house, then worked my way toward the front, stumbling on a few rocks scattered next to the house. I could see Max outside the Explorer on the passenger side, but Marco was out of view.

Max caught sight of me, his startled face illuminated by the dashboard lights. He held up his hand to motion for me to hold still.

The sirens sounded like they were on the other side of the tree line, and I wondered if Paul was going to give himself up or if they’d have to kill him.

I made my way to the edge and peered around to see Marco standing between his Explorer and Wyatt’s truck, his service gun at his side.

Suddenly, Paul broke out from the trees, charging straight for Wyatt’s truck and letting out a yell that sounded like a battle cry. He held his handgun aloft, with his arm straight out, but he hadn’t fired a single shot. Was he out of bullets?

“Shoot me!” Paul shouted as he slowed down, firing a shot and hitting Wyatt’s truck.

“No,” Marco called out. “I’m not lettin’ you off that easy.”

Paul stalked toward the front of the truck, his gun still raised. “I’ll kill you, Roland!”

My breath caught.

“Marco,” Max said in a low warning.

“I’m not killing him.”

I didn’t want to kill him either, but I wasn’t about to let him hurt Marco. While I didn’t have a weapon, there were river rocks scattered on the ground around me. I picked up a hefty stone and hurled it at him, but I only managed to brush his arm.

He came to a halt, shifting his attention to me, and I scooted back around the corner and picked up two more rocks, ready to hurl them.

“Stop where you are, Conrad!” Marco shouted, but Paul ignored him, walking past the front of Wyatt’s truck.

“Shoot him, Marco!” Max shouted.

Paul turned his gun toward Max and pulled the trigger. Another gunshot followed from Marco, but Paul remained standing.

Several deputy cars rounded the corner at the lane and streamed into the clearing, their headlights partially blinding. Paul turned and pointed the gun at Marco. Suddenly, Wyatt was behind me, and he threw his own rock, hitting Paul dead center in the back.