It took all of Tess’s restraint not to smack him again. She quickly replaced the baton in its ring and stepped forward. Grabbing hold of his uninjured forearm, she jerked it toward her, causing a howl; then she bent the wrist and twisted it back in a textbook wrist lock, spinning him forcefully face-first into the wall so she could apply the handcuffs, even as he hollered.

“I will not stay behind bars, I promise you.”

Tess applied the cuffs quickly and roughly, mind overcome with dread about what had happened in downtown Rogue’s Hollow.

“It’s over, Beck, and you are the one who will pay for what you just did. You are under arrest.”

He cursed. “If it’s the last thing I do, ahh . . .”

Tess ignored him and locked the cuffs in place, her focus now shifting to her radio so she could find out what had happened in the Hollow.

“Darn right, it’s over.”

Tess, grip tight on Beck’s upper arm, stepped back and turned. Livie Harp stood there, shotgun up and ready.

“Move out of the way, Chief. It’s time to end this for good. And you, Pastor Mac, stay back.”

Reflex made Tess step in front of Beck. “Livie, no, don’t. There’s no reason to do this. He’s a threat no longer.”

“As long as he’s breathing, he’s a threat.” Harp tried to move around, get a clear shot at Beck.

Tess moved with her, blocking the shot, a fleeting thought crossing her mind: My dad died protecting an innocent woman. Do I want to die protecting evil?

52

Harp had fury in her eyes and a death grip on her shotgun. Tess scrambled, knowing that she had to derail the anger, defuse the moment.

“I can’t let you kill him. He deserves to be in a cage.” She put a hand up. “Surely you can see that will be worse than a quick death, Heather.”

Harp’s glare flipped from Beck to Tess. “What did you call me?”

“Heather. That’s your name, isn’t it? Heather Harrison.”

Tess saw surprise flicker across the woman’s face and her resolve waver. In her periphery, she also saw shock hit Oliver.

“I haven’t been her for a long time. She was stolen from me—by him, by Porter Cross. You could say that they killed her. Cross met his end, but he—” she jammed the gun toward Beck—“he deserves to die for that and for so many other crimes.”

Tess held her hands up, making certain that she blocked the shot. Oliver had picked up the remote and her gun. Tess shot him a glance, hoping he understood that she wanted him to stay back, not to try anything.

Her concentration returned to Harp. “No, he deserves to rot in prison. Killing him now, like this, will put you in prison. That would be wrong.”