I covered my mouth to stifle a scream.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” the third guy said in disgust. “Now we’ll never find it.”

“It wasn’t in any of the rooms we checked or the one where he was hidin’. He moved it and planted that camera to implicate us,” the first man said. “I suggest we keep lookin’.”

The second guy turned directly toward my unit, but a streetlamp was behind him, and a dark shadow crossed over his face.

“Goddammit!” he cursed, then stomped across the street toward a red truck parked on the opposite side of the road. A long scratch ran along the back panel. I could see a figure sitting behind the steering wheel. The second guy climbed into the passenger side as the other two followed, jumping into the pickup bed before the truck drove away.

I stared after them in shock. I’d tried to save that boy and all I’d done was hasten his assassination.

Bolting for the door, I fumbled for the latch. Once I got it open, I clicked the button to turn off the car alarm as I ran to the boy, only second-guessing my decision when it occurred to me that he was still alive and might be armed himself.

“Help,” he said. Between the dark and the bruising and swelling, it was hard to make out his features, but he looked young. Barely driving age.

I fell to my knees next to him, dropping the gun and the key fob onto the concrete as I searched for his wounds. The parking lot lights didn’t illuminate much, but it wasn’t hard to see the spreading stains on the shirt over his chest.

“Oh, God…” I briefly considered running into my room to get a towel but didn’t want to leave him. In desperation, I stripped off my long-sleeved thermal shirt, leaving me in a cami in the cold, but I barely noticed. My focus was on pressing the shirt to his chest to stop the bleeding.

He whimpered in pain.

“You’re her, ain’t you? Are you gonna finish me off?” he asked in a reedy voice, his eyes wide with fear.

Why would he think that?

“No, I most definitely am not. I’m here to help you,” I said, trying not to panic. “I need to go call 911.”

I started to get up, but he grabbed my arm. I could have easily broken free from his weak grip, but I stopped.

“You have kind eyes,” he said with a soft smile. “My momma always said you could tell a lot about a person by lookin’ ’em square in the eyes.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I asked, “Will you let me help you now?”

“I need you to give my granddad a message.” When I didn’t answer, the fear in his eyes increased. “Please.”

My throat tightened. “Okay. Then I need to call 911.”

“Tell him I had to do it.” His jaw trembled. “Tell him I’m sorry I hurt him. That I tried.”

Not trusting myself to speak past the lump in my throat, I nodded.

“Tell him I have the evidence to put them away. The code’s on my hand.” He turned his left hand palm up, and I took a quick look at the numbers—5346823—that were slightly smeared in blue ink.

Those guys had found the camera, but maybe he had already gotten what he needed from it—maybe the footage was stored elsewhere. I knew nanny cams sent the footage to a website. The code must be an access code.

The shirt under my hand was becoming soaked with his blood. “Okay. I’ll tell the police.”

“No!” he shouted, then began to cough.

Blood splattered on my arm and my shirt and I tried not to recoil in horror.

“Don’t tell the sheriff,” he said, his words barely audible. “Some of ’em are part of this. It was one of their deputies that shot me.”

The chill that shot down my back had nothing to do with the cold night air.

I needed to call for help, but he was quickly bleeding to death, and I was scared to leave him alone. Besides, the room phone didn’t even work. So I did the next best thing.

“Help!” I shouted. “Help!”

The kid gave me a sad smile. “I ain’t gonna make it. You’re wasting your breath.”

I shook my head. “No.” Then I leaned back my head and screamed at the top of my lungs.

Lights flicked on in the second floor of the tavern as well as in one of the motel rooms.

Knowing help was on the way, I turned my attention to the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Seth.”

“I’m gonna stay with you, Seth.”

Tears welled in his eyes. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Still pressing on his chest with my left hand, I reached for his hand and held on tight.

“You’re gonna tell my grandfather, right?” he whispered. “You look like a nice lady. You’ll keep your promise?”

I nodded, trying not to sob. “I promise, Seth. I’ll tell him.”

“And not the sheriff.”

That one was harder to promise, but if he didn’t want the sheriff to know, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be the one to tell them he had something on them. Besides, if a deputy had really shot him, who could I trust? “I’ll only tell your grandfather. No one else.”

His grandfather could figure out what to do with the information.

“Thank you,” he whispered with a little cough.

“Carly?” I heard Max shout in panic as he sprinted across the street in jeans, barefooted and bare-chested. “What happened? I heard you scream!”

“I’m okay,” I said as he approached. “We need an ambulance.” But Seth’s hand had become limp and his chest wasn’t rising and falling under my hand. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly up at me.

“You’re covered in blood,” Max said, his voice tight with worry. “What happened?”

“Seth was shot,” I said, feeling numb.

Oh, God. He was dead. He’d died holding my hand as I’d soaked up his blood in a shirt I’d only worn for a few hours. It all felt surreal.

Max tried to pull me to my feet, but I resisted. “No! We need to give him CPR.”

Kneeling on one knee next to me, Max gently pulled my hand from Seth’s chest, and lifted the teen’s shirt to survey the oozing wounds on either side of his chest. Cursing under his breath, he lowered the shirt. “CPR won’t do any good, Carly. He’s lost too much blood.”

“We have to at least try!”

He gave me a sad look. “No. You need to let him go.”

I stared at Seth in shock. I’d just witnessed a murder and I couldn’t trust the sheriff’s department.

My complicated life had just become exponentially more difficult.

Chapter Five

In a daze, I let Max pull me to my feet. I was only vaguely aware when he began leading me across the street toward the bar.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” I said, feeling like I was watching the scene from afar.

“Neither are you,” he said, wrapping an arm around my upper back and tugging me to his side. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up.”

“We need to call 911.” I pulled away from him. “I have to stay with Seth.”

“Seth’s already gone. No point in you freezin’ with him.” He ushered me through the front door to the tavern, and as soon as he was through, he shut the door and dropped his hold on me. The room was pitch black except for a faint glow of light toward the kitchen. Terror shot through me, but I resisted the urge to reach out and hold on to Max for dear life.