at Eggers. “Stay still.” He was twisting in his chair, trying to see behind him. Risa had to set her weapon down to fumble with his bonds. She didn’t want to admit to the slight relief she felt when she no longer had to hold the gun.
“Hurry up! That fucker will be back any minute. Where are the others? Where’s McGuire?”
“Don’t worry,” she muttered. He was secured with duct tape, she realized with a sinking heart. And the most effective way to release him was with a knife to cut through it.
She didn’t have a knife. By touch alone she discovered that the tape trussed the man’s entire body to the chair. Even if she were able to free his hands, she couldn’t afford to expend the time necessary to loosen all of it.
Which meant she wouldn’t try. She reached out and tipped the chair toward her. Pulled.
“What the hell are you doing?” His whisper was harsh. Terrified. “Cut me loose!”
Risa bent to retrieve her weapon, but she had to holster it. She couldn’t drag Eggers to safety without both hands free. “Unless you happen to have a knife on you . . .” She pulled the chair with all her strength. Dragged it several feet before having to stop and rest for a moment. The man had to weigh one eighty. She pulled again. Moved him several more feet.
Then a shot rang out, kicking up dirt several yards away. She tipped the chair over in an attempt to make Eggers a less visible target and dropped to the ground, drawing her weapon with unconscious fluidity.
“Whoever is there, I’m giving you one chance to walk away. Leave him and save yourself.”
Risa strained to place the origin of the voice. It was coming from the brush on the opposite side of the clearing from the way she’d approached. “Baltes?” she called. “Philadelphia PD. You’re surrounded. Put your weapon down and come out with your arms raised.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, “Chandler?” The incredulous joy in that single word filled her with dread. “You’re not with the force anymore. But no one will ever know about that lie you just told. You’ll be dead by morning.” Another shot. This one closer. She rolled, her wet palms making her grip on her weapon slippery.
“We know about Lamont Fredericks,” she called, scanning the cover of brush and trees opposite her. “Eggers burned down Tory’s with Lamont in it. We know about your mother’s death. The foster homes. But you’ve left a string of bodies behind you. Darrell Cooper had nothing to do with this case. He was innocent. Killing him makes you as bad as Eggers.”
“Fuck that,” the detective screamed from his position on the ground. “Fredericks got what he deserved.”
“Cooper was a means to an end,” Baltes called out. His voice seemed to be coming several yards farther away from where it had last time. “No one was going to miss one more former foster kid after the system spit him out. This is your last chance, Chandler. I never wanted you to die.”
She saw a flash of movement. Aimed. One second stretched into another. It took every ounce of determination she had to finally squeeze the trigger.
Too late. She knew it even as the shot sounded. A quick little stab of fear arrowed through her. How much time had passed since she’d talked to Nate?
Not enough, she realized immediately. Her heart sank to the vicinity of her stomach. The only chance they had was for her to get beyond the fear. Beyond the past.
But if determination alone could accomplish that, Raiker wouldn’t have had to force her weapon on her again.
Belatedly, she answered the man. “You made a damn good attempt for someone not wanting me to die. You were scared, weren’t you? Scared of the sketches you saw on that pad you stole from my bedroom.”
“If you knew as much as you thought you did, I’d be in jail right now.”
She sited on the area the voice seemed to be coming from. Squeezed the trigger again. A moment passed. Had she hit him? The thought had the weapon trembling a bit in her hand.
“And you’re right. I want you dead almost as much as I do Eggers. McGuire I gave a pass to. Just pushed his sister to run to arrange a little distraction for him. But you . . . I don’t know what you are. How you drew those pictures. But you’ll die with Eggers. I’ve never